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Six months ago was the old days, as hard as that was to believe. Carly glanced up and saw a tattered and faded American flag flapping listlessly in the breeze.
“Did you bring the cookies?” the man asked her.
Justin cocked his revolver. “Back the fuck off.” His harsh tone should have been more than sufficient warning, but the man was too far gone to pay any attention.
The man had rushed out of a house along the highway when he saw them, his face crumpled in anxiety. Justin had already shoved him away once, but he was intent on Carly. He grabbed at her again, and Carly darted behind Justin.
“They should be here by now!” The man’s agitation seemed to be increasing by the moment. “Why didn’t you bring them?”
He was filthy—his clothes spattered with vomit, his hair matted to his head. He was probably in the same clothes he’d been wearing when he had the Infection. “I ordered them two months ago! You should have brought them!”
Sam jumped between them, his legs splayed and his head lowered as he snarled. The man swiveled his head to look at him and confusion replaced the anxiety.
“I had a dog. I can’t find him.”
“We haven’t seen him,” Justin said. “Why don’t you go look for your cookies and your dog over there?” He pointed to the woods behind the house from which the man had emerged. The man wandered off, successfully distracted.
Justin and Carly remounted their bikes and increased their speed until the house was a dot in the distance behind them.
“It’s terrible,” Carly said. “There isn’t anyone to care for him or for others like that poor woman with Jeremiah. I wish there was something we could do for them.”
“Shooting them would probably be the kindest.” Justin’s tone was grim.
“That’s awful!”
“But the truth. They’re not going to get better, Carly. Without anyone to take care of them, they’ll freeze or starve. And some of them may hurt others, like that man in Fraser.”
“I can’t believe compassion has died, too.” Carly kept her eyes on the road and blinked hard to force back tears, “It’s like everything that made us good has dried up and withered away, and all that’s left is the basic, animal drives.”
“That’s not true, Carly. Our society has undergone a setback, that’s for sure, but there are still people who are good.” He gave her a faint smile, and Carly smiled back. Pessimistic about human nature he might be, but Justin tried to look on the bright side for her sake. “Think of the number of times we’ve traded. Most of the people we’ve met have been decent people trying to survive under difficult circumstances. If society manages to rebuild itself into a civilization again, it will be through the efforts of those people and people like you, who want to help others.”
“What about people like you?”
Justin hesitated. “I’m not really sure how to answer that question. You’re one of the builders. But I don’t know what my role would be. ‘Town Pessimist,’ perhaps?”
As he’d intended, Carly smiled. “I think you’d be one of the leaders.”
Justin snorted.
“No, I’m serious. You said people would gather around a strong leader for protection. Well, you’re a strong leader. You know all of this survival stuff, and you’ve been in the military, so you know about battles and defenses. You’d make a very good leader.”
“I’m not patient enough, and I’m not compassionate, like you, Carly.”
Carly held back a snort of her own, just barely. Justin saying he wasn’t patient enough was like the Pope saying he wasn’t Catholic enough. “Well, maybe I could be your vice president and help you with that.”
“Sure you wouldn’t rather be first lady?”
Carly stole a quick glance at his face. What did he mean by that? Did he mean—?
“Think about it. You could cut ribbons and make inspiring speeches to schoolchildren. And everyone would copy your outfits.”
“Ugh.” Carly wrinkled her nose. “I’m no good at speeches.”
“You’re great at talking.”
Carly laughed. “That’s different.”
“Only because you think it is. Giving a speech is just talking to more than one person.”
