The three refugees drew close and stood a respectful distance away, staring at the body. "What do we do?" muttered Ben.
"Do we dig a grave or something?" asked Reese.
"With what?" demanded Jo. "I plum forgot to bring a shovel. You remember one?" she asked Reese.
Reese’s mouth compressed into a thin line. He shook his head, then scratched at the stubble on his chin. "There's nothing we can do for her. I have a feeling she's not going to be the last…one…we find,” he said, unable to say ‘body.’
"So, you're saying we just keep moving, walk around her?" asked Ben.
“Unless you got any other suggestions?” said Jo. “Yeah…pretty much. Like he said, she's dead. Ain’t nothing we can do for her. We can’t even bury her."
“It just doesn’t seem right," Ben muttered.
Reese sighed. “It's not right. This is about the most horrible thing I think I've ever seen. But there's nothing anybody can do about any of this now. The only thing we can do is make sure we survive. And I aim to do that. I hope whatever god she believed in shows mercy on her soul, and—I’ll pray for her family and loved ones—but I'm sure she'd understand if we just keep moving on our way."
"You keep telling yourself that, buddy," Ben muttered as they shuffled past.
By mid-afternoon, they’d rounded a curve and waded across the new creek, created when the Jordan River overflowed its banks during the tsunami and washed out most of Route 3. As the road turned northwest, they came across a cluster of buildings with one jagged sign sticking up out of the rubble pile, proclaiming it to be the Trenton Health Center.
Jo insisted they stop and look for supplies. Hot, sweaty, and quickly reaching his exhaustion point after being awake most of the night, Reese was all too ready to agree. The three of them shuffled their way through the debris and climbed in through a hole in the front wall of the health center. Inside, wires and lights hung from the ceiling, and the humidity level rose to intolerable conditions, but it was out of the direct sun.
"What an interesting smell you've discovered," Ben groused, wrinkling his nose as he leaned on his crutch. "That's got to be the worst thing I've ever smelled in my life!”
"Better get used to it," Reese said, trying not to cough. "It's only been a day since this thing hit. In the next few days, things are going to get pretty ripe around here."
Jo picked her way cautiously through the rubble, past overturned chairs, tables and exam beds. She coughed. "All the more reason to try to find what we can and skedaddle." She gave a little cry, and bent to pick up a red satchel, emblazoned with a white cross on the cover. "Like this! First aid kit!” She turned it over in her hands and water dribbled out one pocket. "A little wet, but could be useful." She turned and tossed the bag to Reese, who barely caught it.
"Little heads up next time, yeah?” Reese grumbled as he examined the wet satchel in his hands.
“Settle down, Francis,” Jo quipped. “Time to put your big boy pants on," Jo said, picking through the debris. She peered into the darkness leading down one corridor. "I don't much fancy the idea of heading down there in the dark. Anybody got a flashlight?"
"Nobody's got anything, Jo," Ben said, slapping the wet jeans on his legs. "We’re not exactly running the most well-equipped expedition in the world, you know?"
“Ahyup,” Jo muttered, bending over to examine something at her feet.
"Now who's sounding like a local?" Ben said with a laugh. He grunted, and overturned a reception desk, revealing a pile of boxes. “Lookit—anybody need some face masks?" he asked, holding up a box of N95 masks. The cardboard, saturated for more than 24 hours, separated at the seams and spilled individually wrapped masks all over the ground.
"Actually," Reese said, "grab those. They might come in handy.” He opened the red satchel, flinging water drops aside, and spread the main pouch for Ben to drop a handful of the plastic wrapped masks inside.
"Look for bandages or water—any kind of sealed medicine. Preferably some antibiotic stuff," Jo advised. "I've got a feeling we’re all going to have our share of cuts and scrapes—ain't no good anybody getting an infection.”
"How long we gonna stay here?" Ben asked, leaning on his crutch by the hole in the wall they’d used as an entrance. "I'm not gonna be much good on one leg, I’ll tell you that right now. This place is givin’ me the creeps."
“That’s fair,” Jo said, turning and putting her hands on her hips. She looked at Reese. "What say you, fearless leader?"
"Fearless leader?" Reese parroted. "Now wait a minute—”
“Oh no," Jo said, pointing at him. "This was your harebrained idea. You're the one that got us off that island, you're the one that saved our keisters with that little switcheroo out on the water—in my mind, you're the one in charge."
"She's right, you know," Ben said, tilting his head toward Jo.
"So, the question is, do we stay here for the night or do we keep moving?" Jo asked. She looked up at the ceiling, missing more than half of the acoustic tiles. "I mean, this place is trashed, but it's a roof over our heads."
Reese shook his head. "I don't want to stay here. It's only…” He looked at his watch. “It’s only 5 o'clock—we still have a few hours of sunlight left. I say we push on."
Ben pulled his phone out and looked at the map again. "According to this, we should be hittin’ the outskirts of a little town called Ellsworth…about 3 miles northwest of here."
Reese picked his way through the
