Andy suddenly sensed that he wasn't alone. He leaned backa little bit, pretending to flex the muscles in his back and out of the cornerof his eye, he saw "her" standing there... the one that had causedall this. That wasn't completely fair. She had merely caught the one whostarted all this.
"You see anything?" Amanda asked.
He just shook his head, unsure of whether to sound cheerfulor reveal his true gloom about the whole situation. He was new to these people,hardly more than an afterthought to them. The men scared him, almost as bad asthe women. No one here had even bothered to get to know him. At the movietheater, it was all "Get me this." or "Where do you keepthat?" They just took without offering.
Andy understood. He was doing much the same thing withthe group. Just watching, waiting for the shit to hit the fan like it had backat that office building. He couldn't believe he hadn't shit his pants on thefall down from the third floor. What a nightmare that would have been, shittydrawers and no stores around that didn't require him to wade through a sea ofthe dead.
Maybe it was time to take a little himself, find out ifthis group of people was worth sticking with. "Are you glad that she'sdead?"
He turned to face her, not giving her the easy way out.She bit her lip and continued to look out over the water, avoiding his gaze."She tried to kill my friend."
"The friend who might die anyway and drag us allalong with him," Andy said.
"He's not going to die. I know it. Joansays..."
"Joan says she doesn't know if he's going to wake upor not. For all we know, she was trying not to give us the bad news."
Amanda looked at him, and he saw the hurt there. He saw agirl who had sent another girl, someone she had known for weeks, someone shehad fought for life with, to a waterlogged grave. "You don't know shit,"she said.
Amanda pushed back from the edge of the bridge andstalked away angrily. Andy looked at the sky. "Nice going, dipshit. Theone time someone bothers to talk to you and you treat her like completeshit."
People had never been his strong suit. That's why he hadabandoned his life in North Carolina, too many burned bridges, too many peoplelooking to beat his ass, including his own family, wherever the hell they werenow. 3,000 miles away, there was probably still a few good old boys who wouldput a bullet in his ass if he showed up there now.
Now here he was at the end of the world, making friendsleft and right. He turned around and watched the small camp. The men wantednothing to do with him. The girls wanted even less.
He spotted the leader of the military men, SergeantTejada. Now there was a man that knew how to get things done. Using the bridgeas a base of operations was a terrible idea in Andy's estimation, but SergeantTejada seemed like the type of dude that knew when to cut and run. Maybe theyhad a place for him here. Whatever decision he was going to make was going tohave to be made quick. The survivors were gathering... their time on the bridgewas almost done.
****
Sergeant Tejada watched the survivors drag their sorryasses out into the middle of the encampment. They were about as prepared fortheir journey as Sergeant Tejada was to put down his rifle and call it quits.They shuffled their way into the circle of cars, their faces matching the lookof that blonde girl as she had stood on the edge of the bridge waiting for herpunishment to be meted out. They looked like they were getting ready to marchto their death. Maybe they were.
"I see you've all made your decision," heannounced. The soldiers not at their posts turned and regarded the survivors,temporarily halting their card-playing, reading, and, for one soldier, histanning.
The bald black man, Lou the man had said his name was,stepped up, nodded his head, and said, "Yeah, we've decided to moveon."
"Well, that's just fine," Sergeant Tejada said.
"Most of us anyway..." he said, hesitating asif there were more on his mind.
He already knew what was coming. Life in the world of thedead wasn't so complicated. It was all about making it through the day andwaking up strong enough in the morning to make it through the next. "Ifigured you might say that."
"Thing is, we wanna know, if we leave some peoplehere with you, are they going to be safe?" the tall cowboy said. SergeantTejada spared him a glance. That one didn't say much, but when he spoke,everyone listened.
Sergeant Tejada waved his hand around, imploring thesurvivors to look around. "You can see we're well armed. If things getbad, we'll move what we got and fall back, either to the west side of the riveror the east side."
The mean-looking broad, the one with the dead eyes, said,"That's not what we're talking about."
He knew perfectly well what they were talking about. Hejust wanted to see if they were going to say it. "I won't let them gethurt on my watch." That was as good as he could do. If he could help it,nothing would happen, but should he fall... well, he couldn't very well beresponsible for that could he?
"That's how it has to be I suppose. We got twopeople that are staying. Rudy, the unconscious fellow in there and Amanda. WhenRudy wakes up, if he wakes up, they're going to follow after us," Lousaid.
Sergeant Tejada's mind boggled at the implication. Theidea of that girl and that red-haired boy walking through the city to findtheir friends was ridiculous. They wouldn't make it two goddamned Portlandblocks. He just nodded his head.
"I'm staying too," said a young man. Surprisewashed over the other survivors' faces, except for the woman with the deadeyes. From what Sergeant Tejada had seen of the kid, he was quiet, always offto the side, an
