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I blink, thinking about this possibility, excited about the idea of doing something so new and different. “Where are they?”
“’Bout seventy miles from here,” Travis replies. “Northeast. We can show you on the map if you want.”
“That’s too far.” Jackson cuts in, sounding very bad-tempered. “This is as far as it’s safe for us to go. We don’t travel any farther, and we’ve got to get back home tomorrow.”
“But—” I cut off my own objection when I get a look at his face. At something almost desperate beneath the scowl. I turn back to Layne. “We do need to get back. We’ve got someone really sick. But maybe we can help with seeds and other supplies. We could drop them off somewhere close to our farm for Mack or someone to pick up?”
“Yes, that would be perfect. He should be passing through that way sometime next week. We’ll see if we can arrange something.” Layne is grinning again, stroking the vegetables in the bag like they’re a beloved pet.
“We’ve got to get going now,” Jackson says, putting a hand on my back and giving me a nudge toward the ATV. “It’s gonna be dark soon.”
“There are some houses out by the Walmart that aren’t totally destroyed. You can probably spend the night in one.”
We say our goodbyes, and they drive off. Jackson is glowering and silent as we get back in the ATV.
“What?” I demand after a minute.
He gives me a narrow-eyed look but doesn’t answer.
It’s probably just as well.
***
WE FIND THE OLD WALMARTeasily and spend about an hour moving rubble and hunting for medication. A lot of it has already been cleared, but we find a lot of usable clothes that we pile up to take home, and Jackson finds a good pair of work boots that fit him perfectly, which is a godsend because his are barely being held together by threads and tape.
There’s more stuff here we could take with us and use if we had room in our vehicle, but most of it we have to leave. We finally find the corner with the pharmacy, and my stomach sinks slowly as we make our way through the debris.
Most of the pills are already gone, and nothing we can find that’s left are the antibiotics we really need.
I keep searching, even after I’m pretty sure there’s nothing to find here.
Jackson lets me for a while, but eventually he comes over to where I’m bent over, digging through a pile of mostly empty bottles for the second time.
“Faith,” he says, reaching down to put a hand on my shoulder.
“There might be something here.” The words don’t come out with a snap. It’s more like a stifled sob.
“There’s not. I’m sorry. It’s dark now, and we can’t stay any longer. We’ll keep looking tomorrow morning. We can hit as many places as we can on the way home.”
I straighten up and hug my arms to my chest, giving the destroyed building one more desperate scan. The section in front of us is illuminated only by the headlights on the ATV. Everything else is in the dark.
Jackson is right. This is dangerous. We shouldn’t be here.
There’s nothing to find anyway.
My throat feels like it’s swelling to twice its size. I try to swallow over it.
“I’m sorry, kitten,” he murmurs roughly. “But can we please go now?”
I nod, completely wordless. We get into the ATV, and Jackson drives us away. We find a neighborhood nearby with quite a few houses in questionable condition. We look until we find one that appears stable and that has a garage where we can keep our vehicle out of sight.
Jackson breaks a window to get into the house. We have a quick, quiet dinner of pork jerky, tomatoes, and bread. We brought drinking water with us, but there’s no water here to wash with, so we just pee outside and then Jackson moves some furniture to barricade us in one of the bedrooms.
It’s not as safe as the farm where we have a wall and guards and booby traps. But it’s as secure as we can get while traveling. The area is completely deserted, and no one will know we’re here from looking outside. The only way anyone could find us would be accidentally.
I feel safe enough to climb under the sheets of the queen-sized bed—still made up neatly with a pretty quilt—wearing just my panties and tank top.
Jackson is still cleaning his rifle the way he does every night, using the light of an old lantern lit by a battery that’s supposed to last forever.
