A nod.
She held on to him with one hand in case he lost his balance, and unbuckled his belt with the other.
“Noreen!” she shouted. “Get up on the hood, and help him out the window. But watch out for his right wrist.” She focused back on Craig. “We need to switch seats.” She glanced into the back of the car, thinking she might be able to move there and get out of his way, but the roof was crushed too far down. “I’m going to have to crawl over the top of you while you shift over here. You can do that, right?”
“I think so.”
The transfer was awkward, and not without pain on Craig’s part, but successful.
“Now through the window,” she said.
“I’m not sure I can.”
“It’s either that or stay in here the rest of your life, because I’m pretty sure the fire department’s not coming.”
He seemed to actually be considering the choice.
“Come on. Let’s go,” she said as she gently pushed his shoulder.
With reluctance, he leaned over the dash and stuck his head through the window.
“Let me help you,” Noreen said, outside.
Working from either end, the two girls maneuvered Craig out of the car. As soon as he was clear, Martina followed.
“Let me take a look at that wrist,” Martina said.
He gingerly held out his right arm.
After she pushed back the sleeve of his sweater, she nodded. “Oh, yeah. That’s broken.” Though no bones were sticking out of the skin, the arm was already bruised.
“Hurt anywhere else?”
“Everywhere else,” he said.
“Achy painy or really hurt?”
He shrugged. “Achy painy, I guess.”
“All right. We should wrap up that wrist. Come on.”
As they walked back to Noreen’s car, Martina asked, “Tell me, hotshot. How long have you had your license?”
“What does it matter?”
“Well, you did nearly kill us, so that gives me the right to know.”
“I’ve had it long enough.”
She smirked. “Wasn’t your car, was it?”
“Yeah, it was.”
“It looked pretty new to me.”
Looking guilty, he said, “No one else was going to use it.”
She rolled her eyes, and opened the passenger door of the car. “Get in.”
Before Riley could get in on her side, Martina said, “Do you know him?”
A shrug. “I’ve seen him around, I think.”
“And?”
“And what?”
“And why are you acting like you don’t like him?” she asked, because that was exactly what Riley had been doing since they’d pulled Craig out.
Her friend shrugged. “No reason.”
“Uh-huh,” Martina said, unconvinced.
“You guys getting in or not?” Noreen called from the driver’s seat.
Riley opened the back door and got in, but kept as much distance between herself and Craig as she could. He didn’t even seem to notice her. That’s when the truth dawned on Martina. It wasn’t that Riley didn’t like Craig. It was the opposite.
The realization made her think of her own boyfriend. If she had survived the flu, Ben must have, too. He’d also lived through the original Sage Flu outbreak, after all. That was how they’d met.
She wondered where he was.
She wondered how he was doing.
But most of all, she wondered if she would ever see him again.
“Martina, let’s go!”
Craig’s appearance made the girls curious how many others were still alive. They decided to split up and drive through town, honking their horns and making as much noise as possible to see if anyone else came out.
Martina also drove by Coach Driscoll’s house because she should have been immune, too, but no one was home. That made sense, though. Coach usually went back east for the holidays.
Sadly, when they regrouped two hours later, the only people anyone had seen were a handful of the sick still strong enough to look out a window.
“How long until you think they’re all dead?” Ruby Gryting asked.
“A few days, maybe a week,” Martina said.
“And then what?” Jilly asked.
When no one seemed to have an answer for that, Craig raised his unbroken arm.
“You don’t have to do that,” Martina told him. “Just say what’s on your mind.”
He lowered his arm. “Sorry.”
“What did you want to say?”
“Um, well, I think that what we do next, well, we should look for others who are still alive.”
“We just did that,” Valerie said. “No one’s left but us.”
“I don’t mean here. There’s got to be others in other places right? Look at us.”
“We’re alive because we all had the flu before,” Amanda said.
“I didn’t,” he said. He looked at Riley. “Did you have it before?”
A slight blush came to her cheeks as she shook her head. “No.”
“We can’t be the only two. But even if we are, what about all those other people who survived the outbreak last spring? There has to be at least a few hundred.”
That made everyone think for a moment.
Martina nodded. “You’re right. We do need to find whoever’s left. Life is never going to go back to normal. The more of us together, the better.”
“But how are we supposed to do that?” Valerie asked. “Drive from place to place and honk our horns again?”
More silence.
“I know how,” Martina said, recalling her experience the previous spring. “Radios. CBs.”
“Don’t those have limited broadcast?” Amanda asked.
“Yeah, and aren’t they just for truckers?” Valerie said. “What if no one’s in a truck?”
“Don’t you think other people will think about this and try it, too?” Martina argued.
Valerie thought for a moment, then said, “I guess it couldn’t hurt, huh?”
Martina stood up. “We can pull one out of a truck, or maybe one of the stores in town has one, and set it up here.”
There were voices of support and nods from the other girls.
“Um, there are other things we could try,” Craig said.
“Okay,” Martina said. “Like what?”
“Ham radios. Those go farther,” he said. “A friend of my dad’s has one set up at his house.”
“Great idea.”
“And…”
When he didn’t continue, Martina said, “And what?”
“Well, I was thinking, what about K-Ridge?” he said.
Martina looked at him, confused. “K-Ridge, the radio station?”
“Yeah.”
“They only broadcast, don’t they? We couldn’t talk back and forth.”
“Yeah, but couldn’t we broadcast how to get ahold of us on a ham radio?”
Martina stared at him. “That’s…not a bad idea, either.” She looked around the room. “Does anyone know how to operate a radio station?”
As expected, no one answered.
“All right. Who wants to learn?”
28
Where the hell did the Audi go?
Isaac Judson searched the road ahead, knowing he wasn’t going to spot it. Playing a hunch when they’d reached the intersection, he had instructed the man driving his car to go left. But here they were, several miles in, and no sign of the other vehicle.
He should have probably let the car go, but it had come from the direction of the camp, and raced away from him the minute they saw each other. That’s what had piqued his curiosity. Why would they run? In a world where almost everyone was dying, wouldn’t they wait when they saw someone else on the road?
His sat phone rang.
“Yes?”
“Sir, it’s Peyton. We’ve reached the camp.”