Sidney considered putting a few of them out of their misery, but decided against it. The damn things weren’t very smart, but even they would have to realize that somebody was shooting at them. About the only thing that overrode their hunger was the desire to spread the illness that afflicted them. They’d abandon the deer and come after her and Mark.
“Okay, it’s time to go,” she whispered.
“No meat today?”
“No meat today,” Sidney confirmed.
They were already feeling the pinch in their bellies after being forced to leave the Campbell farm. There, they’d had refrigeration, a vegetable garden in the summer, cattle and chickens for milk and protein, and even central heating against the winter chill. That luxury had allowed them to all sleep in separate rooms and enjoy privacy.
Their current hideout was easily defended, but almost all of the amenities were gone. Only one of Vern’s cows had made it. The others had been killed by the infected along the route between the two places. They still had nine chickens and one ornery rooster, but their egg production had been sparse since the move. The chickens and the cow were under guard twenty-four-seven. They were the group’s sole source of fresh nutrients. Everything else was coming from canned food right now. That had to change.
Sidney shifted to stand up and felt her hip bone dig into the ground. She’d always been rail-thin, but after Lincoln’s birth, she’d enjoyed seeing a few tiny curves in the mirror. Those were already gone.
“Follow me,” she directed, ordering Mark to trail behind her. She wasn’t a military person—hell, to be honest, she’d been a city hippie before everything went to shit and didn’t really like the military or what it represented. But she’d fallen into the role easily out here. The militia-like nature of their little group was the only thing keeping them alive. Without all the guns and ambush tactics that Vern knew, they would have been dead a hundred times over. She may not have liked the military, but she was damn good at it.
Sidney and Mark made their way down the middle of a country dirt road that was lined with stalks of dried corn. A few weeks ago, she’d been worried that their tracks in the snow could lead the Iranians to their new home and tried to brush snow over them, but Vern had calmed her down a bit. The infected wandered all over the place, so there were human footprints covering the landscape. Their presence wouldn’t be of any use to an Iranian tracker.
Not trying to disguise their trail saved them a massive amount of time, which was good because Sidney’s breasts ached. She needed to drain them. Baby Lincoln had stopped suckling at her, but she still pumped what little milk she was able to produce into bottles for him. She didn’t make enough on her own to nourish the boy, so she supplemented with formula, which, consequently, is how Mark came to be with their group when Jake found him at the grocery store.
She thought about Jake as she made her way back to the next landmark on the return trip. He often crossed her mind. There’d been a spark between them that neither of them had bothered to deny. His relationship with Carmen had complicated their feelings for one another, but now that the Hispanic woman was no longer seeing him…
It didn’t matter. Jake was an idiot for following after Grady and he was probably dead. The only thing left for Sidney now was to keep her new family safe. She was well-suited for the task. Her fingers tightened around the rifle’s pistol grip unconsciously. She would do whatever it took to ensure everyone made it through this disaster alive.
The sounds of a truck in the distance sent the two of them into the corn. A single truck drove slowly down the snow-covered road. It was headed in the same direction they were, which meant it was going toward the new hideout. In the back, four soldiers huddled together for warmth. “You ready to earn your pay?” she asked the boy beside her.
“What pay?”
She shook her head. “Just set that thing up and wait until they pass. Then hit all of them in the back.”
Mark set up the machine gun like Vern taught him. He’d done it over and over in the past few days, drilling until Vern was satisfied that he understood the weapon’s functions. It was ridiculously large for the fifteen year-old—or was he sixteen now? His birthday was in early March, but she couldn’t remember what day of the month it was. Her heart was already hammering in her chest.
“Set,” he stated.
“You okay with this?” she asked as the truck rumbled closer.
“It won’t be my first kill.”
Sidney glanced at the boy. He was set in, ready to fire the machine gun. He looked every bit the hardened warrior that she imagined herself to be. One part of her wanted to applaud his killer instincts and his ability to adapt to their current situation. But the overwhelming feeling that descended upon her was simply that of sadness. It was crazy that such a young man was totally committed to carrying out violence in this screwed up world. That was probably the most frightening part of this whole experience for her. How much farther into madness would they be willing to
