Chapter Fifteen Allison
Allison didn’t bother consulting her journal or notes for her next stop. She knew the ultimate goal was the cabin. However, the only clue she had to its location was that it was between the party where she started and the forest she awoke in. Something about the cabin flashback kept creeping its way to the forefront of her mind. It was important. But for now, there was safety in numbers. I need to find that town.
Allison drove throughout the rest of the night, keeping her eyes peeled on the road behind her. No sign of the black truck. Her gas tank was near empty and she had to pull over and empty her reserve gas into the tank so Old Blue could keep moving. As the sun rose, softly illuminating the road with early morning light, Allison spotted a hand-printed sign: “Populated Area Ahead.” Allison smirked as she passed the sign. Try to take me in front of an audience, fuckers. Hopefully, they wouldn’t even think she would head to a town. As the sun continued to rise, its light glistened on the morning dew covering the road ahead. Allison’s heart fluttered at the sight. Beautiful.
She glimpsed a sign that read, “Welcome to Harbor, Population 3,000,” but in spray paint the word “New” had been added before “Harbor.” So, this must be New Harbor now. She turned onto the street indicated on the sign and followed the remaining signs until she reached a makeshift wall with a gate guarded by a few men with large guns. No alarm bells sounded in her head. They were not in black, so they were not Collectors. Allison slowly approached the gate and the guard waving her forward and rolled down her window as one of the men approached her vehicle.
“Welcome to New Harbor.” The man who had to be close to her dad’s age smiled at her as he spoke. His army green cargo pants and t-shirt were worn, but clean. “We welcome all into our town, but we have some basic rules and laws you must follow. They are simple. No violence, no stealing, everyone works. Are you agreeable to that?”
“Yes, sir. That sounds great to me,” Allison replied, a genuine smile plastered across her face. For the first time in days her muscles were relaxed, her stomach calm, and her breathing easy. It was an odd sensation to feel so normal when she was so accustomed to being on unceasing alert.
“Great. First, I need to scan you to make sure you aren’t infected,” the man said as he pulled a retina scanner from his back pocket.
Allison tensed. Will it show I’m a former Infected? Will they let me in? Allison nodded her head, and the man held the device level with her eye and started the scan. The machine beeped, and the man looked down at the screen. He smiled.
“You’re all good. Head straight down this road; you will see the town hall about two miles down on your left. Pull in there and they can get you some food and a place to stay while you are here.” He waved his arm toward the gate.
The gate opened. She pulled through and saw people walking on the sidewalks, talking, laughing, living seemingly normal lives. She drove slowly as she took in the splendor of New Harbor. So many people. She had not seen so many people in one place since she was at the medical camp and that was not a fond memory. Almost every open area had a garden in it that was being tended by people of all ages. People waved at her as she passed, and she couldn’t help but wave back. She wished she could stay here or somewhere like it forever. But that life was not for her, at least not now, maybe never. Children frolicked in yards, people entered and exited different buildings, and everyone seemed happy.
She parked in front of Town Hall. The walkway was dark red brick and lined with flower beds full of colorful blooms. She admired the flowers while she walked to the door. An older woman in a white t-shirt with hummingbirds and pink flowers on it greeted Allison. Her pants were khaki and barely grazed her ankles. Her hair was light brown, pulled back into a loose bun, with streaks of gray. She smiled warmly.
The woman’s name was Kathy, and she smelled like cold cream, but in the best possible way. She echoed the same rules the gate guard had presented, adding that anyone wearing the army green color was security. They were responsible for enforcing the laws and leading the supply runs. Kathy showed Allison into an auditorium with distinctive stations set up. Kathy picked up a canvas sack from a table in the entryway and handed it to Allison. They walked from station to station as the woman chatted about the town and handed Allison different items to put in her bag. Toothpaste, toothbrush, deodorant, a bar of soap, shampoo—no conditioner, unfortunately. Kathy said they had run out. She received one pair of jeans, two shirts, and a pair of combat boots in a tan color that were only slightly too big. Two sports bras, and two pairs of underwear and socks. Allison never felt happier to receive clothes as a gift. Yet another station had feminine hygiene products of which Allison acquired three boxes. When the last box of tampons dropped into her canvas bag she couldn’t resist hugging Kathy. Allison wrapped her
