He heard a grunt from behind, and he turned to see the woman struggling with the cart. There was something in the way of the wheels, perhaps a body, perhaps a broken piece of a car, a bumper or a muffler that had fallen off. The ground underneath them was a mystery.
He watched, still moving ahead on his own path, as the dead began to close around her. Fuck her, he thought. That's what she gets. Without realizing it, he found himself whistling, drawing the attention of his men. "Someone help her out." Though his brain knew that it was stupid to risk helping her, old habits died hard.
Brown was the first to move, and then Masterson came with him. Tejada didn't know where they found the energy to jog, but they trotted towards the lady. They chopped down a few Annies with their hatchets, and Tejada made a mental note to himself to have everyone sharpen up their hatchets when they found a resting spot. They were probably sharp as butterknives by now.
Once the dead were down, Masterson and Brown helped the lady lift the cart up and over whatever was blocking the road. Then, without a word spoken between the trio, they trotted back to their position. Tejada gave them a nod, and they continued forward, chopping down Annies like trees, like jungle tour guides with hatchets instead of machetes.
A half-mile down the road, he turned around again to see if he could find something about the lady that would let him know that she was an acceptable tradeoff for Day. When he turned around, he was shocked to find that she was gone. She had disappeared without saying a word. "Epps, I thought I told you to keep an eye on her."
Epps turned around, his eyes big like he was going to find himself doing pushups in the snow.
"I could have sworn she was just there."
Tejada shrugged. In the distance, they heard a shotgun blast. The woman was still alive. Now her life was her problem. With a heavy sigh, Tejada said, "Let's get a move on. We can't save everyone."
Epps nodded, and they all tried to put the image of Day's death out of their minds. They didn't think about the shotgun blasts in the distance. They didn't mean anything. It was just another noise, one that they needn't concern themselves with.
****
Rudy sweated heavily in the sunlight. His eyes were almost blind from the shine of the sun on the snow. The sunshine felt good, and he tried to remember the last time he had been out in the sun, soaking it up like he was now. He had relinquished Tejada to Gregg and Masterson for the time being.
He had carried the man for several miles, largely in silence, with Amanda on the other side. They walked together now, stepping where the other soldiers stepped. There were Annies under the snow, broken-backed, frozen things that could pop up anywhere. Besides the one that had gotten Day, Allen had stepped on another one. He had fallen backward, scrambling in the snow and kicking it in the face with his boot as it crawled after him.
Luckily, Epps had been right next to him. He was able to plant his hatchet in the back of the Annie's skull before anyone was hurt. But still, the thought was in his head that at any moment, he could step on his own death. The snowfield in front of them was like a minefield, but instead of being filled with exploding mines, it was filled with flesh-covered mines riddled with disease.
His feet and shins were so frozen from walking that he didn't think he would notice if anything bit him. He was worried about Amanda. She wasn't built for this type of cold. The last thing anyone needed out here was frostbite. It seemed like the entire world wanted a piece of them, the Annies, the cold, random survivors who showed no gratitude.
He couldn't believe how the woman they had helped had offered them nothing, no sign of thanks, no anything. She had almost killed a couple of them with her shotgun, and she never even offered a word of apology. But maybe that's why she was still alive. Maybe she had been making it through this entire world by worrying only about herself, never offering apologies for the things she did.
When she had disappeared, Rudy was thankful. He didn't want anything to do with a person like that. She would do anything to survive, and that meant sacrificing one of them, perhaps killing one of them, if it suited her needs. That was not what they needed. Not even a word of thanks. It still bugged him.
"Let's call it a day," Tejada said.
Rudy flinched at the word "day," instantly reminded of the poor man's demise. He had never really liked Day. He didn't think anyone did. He was the sort of guy that you just tolerated having around. He was another body. He did his job, often with snarky comments and an attitude that made it seem like he thought he was above all of the menial tasks that Tejada doled out. But he did his job, and he was
