Broussard slowly shook his head. “We found a working cure.” He rubbed at his neck. “Once it’s had a chance to spread, what’s left of Humanity will be able to start rebuilding.”
She turned and raised a brow at him. “You mean the five or ten percent of the original population that didn’t starve to death already?” She paused and gave him a tight lipped smile. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound so…”
“Hopeless?” He chuckled. “Trust me, I know what the odds are. But we have to keep the faith that Humanity will pull through this.”
She turned and stared out at the bleak landscape. Line after line of empty buildings and abandoned vehicles painted a picture that she feared was mankind’s future: A whole lot of nothing.
Simon staggered through the streets, his shotgun braced over his shoulder and the bottle of whiskey dangling from his free hand. He found it harder and harder to breathe and he was squinting from the brightness.
Fuck me. The light is killing my head.
He quickly crossed to one side of the street and found a convenience store and pushed the door open. His eyes immediately adjusted to the dim within, and he listened for any threats. Satisfied that it was safe, he made his way toward the counter.
Glancing to the side of the register, he saw the small display of knockoff sunglasses. He pulled a pair of aviators and slipped them on. Even in the darkness of the shop, the tint gave him almost immediate relief.
He sighed heavily and lifted the liquor bottle to his lips, pausing for a moment before slowly lowering it. He glanced behind the counter and saw what he was looking for. He couldn’t remember what it was called, but he knew it like the back of his hand.
He tried to reach across the counter; it took him a moment to realize that his attempts were futile. He walked around to the end and entered the little area where the shopkeeper would have spent the majority of his time.
He snatched the bottle of acetaminophen from the shelf and ripped the flimsy cardboard box open. He fumbled with the plastic bottle a few moments then just bit the cap off. He jammed his finger past the foil tamper seal and pulled the poly cotton out, tilted the bottle back, and dumped a half dozen tablets into his mouth.
Without thinking, he began to chew them as his eyes searched for something that he rarely sought.
Water.
Simon found a gallon jug with a picture of a baby on it. He tore the plastic cap off and tilted the jug back, drinking nearly half of it before he dropped the container to the floor. He spun again, slowly taking in what little was left on the shelves.
He glanced down the aisle and saw the door to the tiny storeroom. He quickly snatched his bottle of liquor from the counter and marched to the rear of the building. He kicked open the door and leveled the shotgun into the inky blackness.
He was surprised that, even with the aviators on, he could see. He quickly rummaged through the nearly bare shelves and his boot kicked something on the floor. He bent low, pulled a plastic container from beneath the metal shelf, and lifted it. His mind couldn’t really make out the letters on the front, but he knew what he held.
He peeled the plastic cover off and pulled out a familiar snack, sighing as he shoved the chunk of dried meat into his mouth and began to chew.
Jerky! This is called…jerky.
Simon sat on the cool concrete floor of the store and savored the flavorful meat. He lifted the liquor bottle and hesitated. He stared at the contents and knew that this wasn’t what he really wanted.
Not really.
He slowly came to his feet and made his way back out to the shop. He grabbed another bottle of the baby juice from the lower shelf and pulled the cap off. The cool sweetness of the water seemed to saturate his body as he swallowed.
Simon lowered the jug and continued to chew the meat in his mouth. He stared out of the large windows of the storefront and could just make out the occasional Rager darting from shadow to shadow.
He stepped closer and watched as they all headed to the west.
Tucking the plastic container of jerky under his arm, he edged closer to the front, the light beginning to hurt his eyes. He crept closer; his gaze followed the lone figures sprinting furtively between cover until they all entered a large brick building.
Simon swallowed the mouthful of jerky and leaned out of the door of the store. He looked up the block and studied the structure.
Hotel.
He didn’t know where the word came from, but he was certain that was what the building was. He couldn’t focus on the letters well enough to read them, but that didn’t matter. Somehow, he knew what the building was used for.
Absently he reached into the jerky container and pulled another piece out. He slipped it into his mouth as he watched more of the pale creatures dart between buildings, all making their way toward the hotel.
He smirked and lifted the gallon jug of baby juice. He took a long pull from it as a rudimentary thought took root in his dark and evil mind.
Idiots. He continued chewing as a smile crossed his lips. Useful idiots. Just what I need.
Chapter 4
Roger paused in the hallway and stared at the activity center some parents had created for the smaller children. Trevor hovered over Patricia as she cautiously played with the smaller kids. Two mothers stood by anxiously, watching her every move.
Roger glanced around for a moment, half expecting Hatcher to storm out and order the pair from the grounds. It took him a moment to remember that Hatcher
