“All right, you’re right. Load him up.”
Were they taking one of the workers away?
Would there be some kind of protest, a fight? After all, it didn’t sound like it was a volunteer program they were running.
But there was nothing. No fight. No struggle. Hardly even a word. Just some more mumbling, and a couple words here and there from the two men.
The next thing Max knew, the metal door was shutting again. It slammed down into the concrete and once again the room was dark.
It’d take Max’s eyes a little while to adjust. He’d have to wait until then before he made any moves.
For now, it seemed like they were in the clear.
As Max waited for his eyes to adjust, he felt his pulse with his fingers. His heart rate was going down, but it was still elevated. His body had been ready for a fight that hadn’t happened.
“What the hell just happened?” whispered Mandy through the darkness.
“No idea,” said Max. “We’ll wait a couple more minutes and then we’ll find out.”
“You’re worried they’ll come back?”
“It’s a possibility.”
So they waited.
Maybe they should just leave, get out of the whole rest stop as soon as possible. This wasn’t any of their business, whatever it was that was going on.
But they couldn’t leave just yet. Whoever had come and opened the cargo door might still be out there, waiting. They’d see Max and Mandy as they left the building.
After enough time had passed, it didn’t seem like the cargo door would open again.
“Come on,” whispered Max. “Let’s see what happened. Then we’ll get out of here.”
Slowly, Max and Mandy left their hiding place and began walking through the candle-lit area.
People were laying on the wooden pallets just before. Some were curled up. Many lay on their backs, spread-eagle, with their mouths open and their eyes glazed over.
There was a young man with long hair on one of the pallets who looked dazed. Next to him, there was a small bag of white powder lying on the ground. A needle and syringe lay next to it.
“So this is what they were giving them, you think?” said Mandy, bending down to examine the baggie more closely. “What do you think it is?”
“Careful,” said Max. “Don’t touch it.”
“Why not?” said Mandy, her hand mere inches away from the bag.
“Before the EMP, I read news stories of heroin laced with a drug called Fentanyl. It’s a synthetic opiate that’s many times more potent than anything else, active in the micrograph range and very deadly. Even just touching it can lead to fatalities.”
“Oh,” said Mandy in surprise, pulling her hand away. “But it wouldn’t kill me, would it?” She looked worried, and wiped her hand on her pant leg. “I mean, if he injected it…”
“Probably has a high tolerance,” said Max, peering at the man. “Whatever that stuff is, it sure seems like the men who were here were dropping off drugs. Everyone’s more out of it than before they arrived.”
“They really are,” said Mandy, casting her eyes around the room at the other half-awake figures. “But why would someone come here and give drugs to a bunch of these employees? It’s really weird.”
Max nodded. “It’s weird, yeah,” he said, his eyes falling on Jones, who was off in a new corner, curled up in the fetal position. “Let’s see if our friend Jones has anything to say about it.”
They walked over, and Max nudged Jones with the toe of his boot. “What’s this all about, Jones? Who were those people?”
“They’re helping us,” muttered Jones, his voice slurred.
“Helping you how? By bringing you drugs?”
Jones nodded sleepily.
“That’s not going to help you,” said Mandy, sounding angry.
“Why are they doing this?” said Max.
Jones didn’t answer.
“What are they getting out of it? Are they taking something from you? What are you giving them?”
Jones looked up at Max with half-opened eyes. “They take us sometimes.”
“They take you sometimes?” said Mandy. “What the hell are you talking about? He’s just talking gibberish. Come on, Max. Let’s get out of here.”
“No,” said Max. “I think he’s trying to say something. You’re saying they’re taking some of you away?”
Jones nodded.
“Like one at a time? They take one of you each time they come?”
Jones nodded and then he closed his eyes, going back into his sleepy trance state.
“What the hell?” muttered Mandy. “They’re keeping them all here, and taking them away one by one? What in the world would be the goal in something like that? Whatever it is, it’s sick.”
“Yeah,” said Max. “I can’t figure it out either.” His eyes kept moving around the room, studying it. “What it means to me is that people are starting to get organized.”
“Organized?”
“Yeah. There’s some group out there that has the basics of survival already covered. They’ve got resources and the time to come here and do whatever it is they’re doing. They’ve got access to not only food but drugs, and they have some strange and probably twisted goal in mind. Groups like the militia in the suburbs, and the compound, they’re all going to start growing in power. Some will take over others, consuming them and growing bigger and more powerful.”
“Doesn’t sound good.”
“No,” said Max. “No, it doesn’t.”
“I wish we could have gotten farther away from the East Coast,” said Mandy. “I wish we could have made it far out to some rural area in the middle of the country, like your original plan.”
“Well,” said Max. “We might end up doing that someday. But for now, it seems like our camp is our best option. We can hide out there while whatever it is here goes on.”
“We just have to get back there.”
Max nodded. “Do you think we should try to help them? These people here?”
Max didn’t say anything for a moment. “They’re too far gone,” he said. “And it’s not like they didn’t have a choice.”
Mandy nodded stiffly. “Well then, let’s get out of here. I don’t like the idea of being stuck in here again if those people come back.”
“We’ll go out the way we came in,” said Max.
14
Somehow Janet had gotten away from the house. Somehow she hadn’t run into any more of the militia members. Somehow, she was still alive.
It didn’t make sense. She should be dead. She knew it intellectually, and she knew it in her body, deep in her bones that felt cold.
Her muscles ached and her head pounded with the worst headache she’d ever had. Her skin was covered in a cold sweat and her heart pounded in staccato intervals.
She should have lost hope, hope of killing Sarge. She should have taken this as an opportunity to just get away. She could start over somewhere new. She could get out into the woods and live by herself. She could hunt and gather, like her ancient ancestors.
No one got away from the militia. Not former members, at least. She was beyond lucky, and she should have taken the opportunity and run with it.
But she wasn’t going to do that.
She was going to find Sarge if it was the last thing she did.
She was sitting next to a small creek. The water flowed slowly around the rocks and pebbles.
It wasn’t yet dark out. She’d spent the day hiding in the reeds at the edge of a park, and when the sun had started to fall in the sky, she’d woken up and crawled to this creek not far away.
It might have been around four o’clock. But it was hard to tell without a watch.
Why hadn’t they found her as she slept?
Maybe it was just luck. Maybe she’d gotten far enough out of their way.