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Bill asked the man, “How many have come through here?”

“’Bout a hundred pilgrims last week.”

Cough. Cough.

Bill, in the middle of the conversation, wised up and stepped back. Lexi seemed to not care. They left him, and headed to find the lobby.

“What do you think is wrong with him?” Bill asked.

“I don’t know. His coloring is odd. It’s not just pale.”

“You think it’s our flu?”

Lexi shook her head. “No, not at all. First, with that cough, that stage of the flu, he’d be too ill to be playing a slot machine. Then again, he was drinking heavily. But I heard the cough. It rumbled, it was productive.”

Bill chuckled. “Yeah, he had it productively on his chin.”

“Exactly,” Lexi said. “Did you notice the color?”

Bill snorted a laugh. “Uh, no. Well, yeah, but what does that matter?”

“Our flu didn’t come with a productive cough. It was so thick it stuck in the chest. And also, when it was ejected, it was thick and brown. Remember? It was blood laced. This guy’s phlegm was frothy. More than likely he may have pneumonia. But who knows?”

They followed the signs to the lobby and when they arrived, it wasn’t what they expected. A wire cage fence was erected around the front desk, and a man wearing a dirty county police officer uniform stood up. His face was unshaven, hair wiry, and he had a shotgun draped over his shoulder.

“Welcome, folks.” He stepped to the counter.

“Hi,” Lexi said. “We’re only passing through.”

“Going east?”

“Yes.”

“Isn’t everybody?” He smiled.

Lexi returned the smile. “The man in the casino told us we can get a room for the night?”

“Ah, Charlie. He loves those slots. He doesn’t even get up to take a piss. Has a bottle right next to him.”

Bill winced. “Glad I missed that.”

“I bet,” the man said. “Well, we aren’t a fancy resort, we’re a stopping post. We ask that you don’t cook anything in the rooms. Fire hazard, you know. You can do so outside or in designated areas of the hotel. Clean up after you leave. Sanitizer is in each room.” He pulled a sheet of paper forward. “We’re pretty secure. I have guys on watch. You can’t see them, but they’re there. Kind of defensive against trouble. Not that we have seen a lot of trouble. Folks are pretty good, just wanna go east. Glad I’m not there.”

Lexi was curious. “Why not?”

“More people, more problems. Kind of like a reverse return to the Wild West now. Quiet, empty, and I like it. You can control what you have and what you need when you aren’t fighting for scraps against a thousand starving people.”

“Makes sense,” Lexi agreed.

“So you’re pretty protected here. One of the things we ask if that you check your weapons. We’ll give them back when you leave.”

Lexi looked at Bill.

Bill replied. “We have a knife.”

“A knife?”

“We have an ax,” Lexi said. “It’s in the car. Tire iron? Does that count?”

“A knife, ax and tire iron?” the man said. “What kind of knife?”

Bill laid the six inch hunting knife on the counter.

The man pushed it back. “It’s fine, you can hold on to that. Man,” he shook his head and added with some sarcasm, “you guys are prepared.”

Lexi smiled. “We try.”

“I’m joking. What in the hell is wrong with you two?”

Lexi cocked back. “I’m sorry?”

“You’re crossing the country with a knife, an ax and a tire iron. This isn’t a Stephen King world. This isn’t all the bad in one place, all the good in another. Good and bad are scattered about. More bad roam. Especially, I’m guessing, the further east you go.”

“We discussed this,” Lexi said. “We don’t believe in guns.”

“Well, you should. And if you change your mind, we have some you can barter for.”

“Thank you,” Lexi said.

“Okay, that’s the rules. Now what do you have to barter for the room?”

Lexi peered up at Bill. “What do we have?”

“We have some food,” Bill said. “Some water. Not much. “

The man shook his head. “Food and water don’t barter here. I’d take that knife, but I’d feel guilty leaving you defenseless.” He sighed. “Any gold? Silver? Brass? Pennies? You got pennies, they melt down.”

Lexi shook her head.

“What the heck, people?”

“What about skills?” Bill asked. “Can they be bartered?”

“Depends,” he replied. “What’s your skill?”

“Not me,” Bill said. “Her.” He pointed to Lexi. “She’s a doctor.”

Suddenly, the officer’s entire demeanor changed. All expression dropped from his face and even his voice changed. “Are you serious?”

“Yes,” Lexi said with a nod and swung her knapsack forward. “This is my bag. I have some stuff, not a lot. I really don’t want to barter medicine if I don’t have to.” She grabbed a small billfold and put it on the counter. “Here’s my ID.”

“You still carry ID?”

“You never know.”

He glanced down. “Alexandra Martin. You worked for the CDC?”

“Lexi. Call me Lexi. And yes.”

“And she’s good,” Bill added. “She’s really good. I worked two outbreaks with her.”

The man slid back the billfold.

“My skills won’t get us a room?” Lexi asked with disappointment. “Surely, I can help someone? I mean slot machine guy…”

The man held up his hand, halting her. “You’re a doctor. That skill will barter you more than just a room here. We have everything but a doctor. And lady, I can’t tell you how glad I am to see you.”

* * *

Mick took a second, because that was pretty much all he could spare. He took that second to acknowledge the pain in his gut and the feeling of being a complete failure.

All of his good intentions had gone right out the window. This was supposed to be a simple trip; a week, maybe more. The happy go lucky camp had seemed perfect after they stumbled upon it, and Mick hadn’t given a thought to marauders rampaging through the camp. It hadn’t even crossed his mind. How stupid was he?

He was responsible for the kids; he had promised Dylan he would take care of the boys, and now they were gone.

Were they hurt? Scared? Or had they been taken by those men? Mick couldn’t figure out what the hell they’d want with the kids. He didn’t trust that their intentions were good considering they had blasted through the defenseless campsite.

The car battery in his SUV was gone. In fact, any means of transportation had been dismantled or rendered useless.

There was still generator power to Ethan’s trailer and while Mick scoured the camp for goods, he used that time to charge his phone. Not that he expected to make a call, but who knew if the phones would come back up? Mick was actually surprised they had gone down, especially since the struggling government was using them to communicate with Henry in Lodi.

Chris had his phone, he’d track that. Family GPS. Dylan had called that dumb, considering the boys never left Lodi. But Mick had called it a precaution in case their dad took off with them.

It was a cheaper phone, fewer bells and whistles, and therefore it kept the charge longer. For that Mick was grateful.

And Chris did have his phone. Mick checked the camper. Their coats and hats were gone, and so was the notebook Chris always wrote in.

Mick scoured the camp for clues as to what happened. It appeared the attackers had hit the gate to knock it open, and then shot a person right away, twice. A double tap.

They moved fast, in and out. They took commodities like gas, tires, things for cars. There didn’t seem to be any dry goods left. And the box of deer jerky that Ethan told Mick about was gone.