I tore the room apart searching for the gun matching the bullets. There was none. I checked the end tables beside the bed, under the mattress, and found only two pocketknives. I took both. A pair of oiled winter boots looked like they would fit Sue. They joined my pile.
The second bedroom was for guests. It held little of interest. The bathroom yielded a razor and many blades. In the cupboard under the sink were tampons. I grabbed all there were. A pair of scissors for cutting hair caught my eye and I took them.
“Time’s up,” Sue called softly.
I raced back to the master bedroom and tossed my treasures onto the bed, then folded the four corners of the bedspread to the middle and hefted it over my shoulder. In the kitchen, Sue had been discreet in what she took. Neither sleeping bag was very full. When she saw the load I carried, she said, “I can get both of these.”
At the rear door, I paused and closed the door with the rope in place to hold the pot suspended again. The umbrella stand was still guarding the front door. If we returned, we would know if others had been here. I gathered the corners of the bedsheet again and slipped them over my shoulder, the contents in the bulge riding on my back.
Turning to leave the rear deck, Sue grasped my forearm with fingers that had turned to claws. “People.”
Her whispered word was like the hiss of a mountain lion encountered on a narrow trail. Every muscle in my body tensed when I heard whispered voices in the white stillness. I paused on the deck and felt the vibration of the front door opening and closing. We went down the steps, turned and silently raced for the nearest trees.
Once under the low branches, I turned and looked back. Our fresh footprints in the snow were clear and unmistakable. Instead of trying to outrun pursuers, I motioned for Sue to follow me.
We kept under the trees but moved almost halfway around the cabin where we were much closer but could see if anyone used the back door and tried to follow us. My idea was that from there I could easily ambush him, or them. It was a shot hard to miss. If they didn’t follow us, no problem. Live and let live.
The rear door opened, and I held my breath. The little pot crashed to the wood deck and shattered. A man and a woman cautiously emerged. He carried a rifle. It looked like one used for elk or deer. She had a six-gun in a holster fit for 1890 west of the Mississippi. It was worn on the outside of her down coat. The row of shiny brass shells in the loops reflected the dim sunlight the snow clouds allowed to pass.
He used the scope on the rifle to examine the trees where our tracks entered the trees. Luckily, we hadn’t stayed there. She knelt and examined our footprints carefully. She said something. He shook his head. They went back inside.
I was not satisfied. Not yet. They could still follow us.
We moved closer to the front door, always staying out of sight. They emerged carrying bundles in their arms. His rifle was slung over his shoulder, a stupid thing to do. The thought came that I could shoot her first because she wore her weapon exposed at her hip, then shoot him at leisure. It was a thought, but an uncomfortable one.
The reality was that I couldn’t shoot them. They had done nothing to me. If the situation were reversed, I would have examined the footprints in the snow, just as they had done. They knew we had been there a short while earlier. They had chosen not to follow us.
We withdrew after the couple was out of sight down the road. The falling snow grew heavier and we hurried to our tunnel. Yes, I considered it our tunnel.
Sue said without preamble, “Do you think very many people died? I mean everywhere. In my town, it seemed like most people did. I only saw a few alive before heading for the mountains.”
“Darrington?” I asked.
“How did you know that?”
“It’s the only town near here. I didn’t think you’d walked too far.”
“What about you?” she asked.
“Arlington. Larger, but I had a car so drove most of the way here. Only twenty miles, on a two-lane road. Chancy, but it seemed the best option. There were still a few cars on the road when I bugged out, so the worst hadn’t happened.”
“Then what?”
“I followed the Sauk River a bit and parked at a wide place beside the road as if that matters any more. Years ago, I explored the mine with my dad when he took me deer hunting.”
She peered at me curiously. “You had a car and this place was the best you could come up with?”
“It was. It is. Civilization sort of ends here in Darrington, my dad used to say. Nothing but mountains east of here until you reach Lake Chelan on the other side of the Cascades. South of here, the mountains are probably filled with thousands of people who fled Everett, Seattle, and Tacoma. For me, the fewer the better.”
We trudged ahead. After maybe ten minutes, she asked, “So you got out of town before most were sick or dead?”
“Yes.”
“What if it was all a false alarm or something?”
“Then, I guess I’d have gone home. I still may. Or hope to.”
“You didn’t shoot those people at the cabin when you could have. I thought you were going to. I was sure of it.”
“They did us no harm.”
She was quiet again. Then as the granite wall that held the tunnel entrance came into view, she said, “So, that’s the new rule about killing? Do not attempt to do harm to me and I won’t shoot you?”
We were almost at the entrance of the tunnel when I answered. “That’s a pretty good way to phrase it. I’d maybe add one more thing.”
“Which is?”
“Don’t let me think you’re going to harm me. Not really the same as attempting it, but for instance, if those two back there at the cabin had begun to search for us and followed our tracks, I’ll have taken it as a threat.”
We put our plunder down beside the dead fire and started sorting out the items. The good pair of boots were a little large for her, but she laced them up tight and they were fine with two pairs of socks. After walking around the tunnel to try them out, Sue was quiet for a while then said, “The rules have really changed since the first people got sick sixteen days ago. That was not very long ago when you think about it.”
She wanted to talk. I had rounded the number of days to a couple of weeks, not the precise number of sixteen days. That showed a clear differentiation in the way we thought. I cleared a space, sat on a ledge of rock and said, “I wonder if the entire country was devastated the same way, the same amount of deaths. And those that survived, like us, are we immune, or lucky, or smart? And was it only America? I would assume Canada was the same as us, and Mexico. What about Panama? South America and the rest of the world? I never heard about them.”
Sue said, “For all we know, there may only be only four people left alive on the planet and we considered killing half of them today.”
Damn. She had a way with insights and words. I went to the cave entrance and made sure the snow had completely covered our tracks. It was warming and the snow beginning to melt. The depth was less than yesterday but tonight it would probably freeze again.
She said, “We should get the other food you hid. I know we’re tired, but what if the snow stops? The new tracks will lead anyone here, so we won’t be able to get it then. We really need to stay inside until the spring melt, and that has to be over a month away.”
She was right.
I hadn’t thought of any of that. “We’ll use sleeping bags again to carry the food.”
We used a different route to get near the cabin. The food in the first stash was right where I’d placed it, covered with a little brush and snow. We rushed it to the tunnel and went for more, our eyes watching for any signs of people. We saw none.