“Well,” he said, sounding a lot more resolute than he felt, “first off, I think we should rest and get some more food. Whatever that little bald psycho shot us up with, probably an animal tranquilizer, it was nothing to mess with. I still feel like hell. And then we’ll need some sleep. I think, oh, another day or so should do it.”
“And then?”
“Then, we go on,” said Justin. “After all, as far as we know, Mr. Lampert is still alive. And as long as he is, there’s still a chance, however slim. Oh, I know that this man—the one who took Mr. Lampert—I know he’s got a car and guns and we’re on foot and that theoretically we have no more chance of finding him and catching up to him than we do of flying to the moon, and even if we do he’ll likely just shoot us, but still, I propose that we try to follow him. It may be hopeless and it may be stupid, but until I see Mr. Lampert’s body or have definite proof of his death, I can’t quit. Not even after all this.”
He thought of telling Erin that he didn’t expect her to come along, that she’d more than done her duty and could go her own way if she so desired, but then, feeling that it would be somehow deeply insulting, said nothing. Swails herself only smiled and nodded.
“You know something?” she said.
“What’s that?”
“I was really hoping you’d say that.”
“Well, good,” said Justin. “So it’s settled. Now let’s see if we can’t find somewhere decent to sleep.”
Since it was the only intact structure in sight, they bedded down as best they could in the cramped, smelly shed. The Kid returned as they were doing so, appearing as silently and unexpectedly as he’d left, with a pair of what looked like gophers clutched in his grubby fists. Going straight to Erin, he proffered the dripping, bloody things, but she shook her head in disgust and held out both hands in rejection.
“No thanks!” she said. “Not a big fan of raw rodent, thank you.”
Unconcerned, tossing the little carcasses into a corner, the Kid crouched at a safe distance like an untamed cat and stared at them. Justin couldn’t help but notice that he spent most of his time gazing at Erin.
“I think he likes you,” smiled Justin.
“Yeah, I think you’re right,” said Erin. “but man, he sure stinks, doesn’t he?”
“Yes, well, personal hygiene is probably not too high on his list of priorities.”
“Guess not. Do you think we should try to, I don’t know, civilize him? I mean, we could at least give him a bath.”
“Hmm, I don’t know,” said Justin. “After all, just look at him: Does he look like he’d just hop into a nice tub of hot soapy water?”
“No, not at all,” ceded Erin. “In fact, he looks like he’d take my arm off if I so much as tried to touch him.”
“Indeed.”
“How old do you think he is?” wondered Erin.
“Oh, I don’t know,” said Justin. “Six, seven years? It’s kind of hard to tell, and I’m no pediatrician.”
“Pretty amazing,” said Erin. “But, what about later, when we go? We can’t just leave him here on his own, can we?”
Justin shrugged. “I suppose it’s his decision. If he wants to come with us, well fine. If not? Well, he seems to have survived this long.”
“Yeah, I guess you’re right.”
Through this exchange, the Kid, a deeply quizzical expression on his smudged features, sat riveted in attention, as if he was watching the strangest thing he’d ever seen, and looked from speaker to speaker as if it was a tennis match. When they fell silent, he refocused on Erin.
“Well,” said Justin finally, yawning, “at this point, I don’t much care, I’m afraid. We’ll just see what happens.” He lay back on his makeshift bed (mostly rags and grass) and heaved a sigh. “Now get some sleep. We’re going to need it.”
“What about him?” Erin said. “I mean, do you think it’s safe to just go to sleep around this kid? What if he does something while we’re asleep?”
“Like what?” said Justin wearily. “Rob us? We don’t have anything! Or kill us? He could have done that any time he’d wanted to, while we were unconscious and helpless. No, I think we’re safe enough.”
“Well, OK,” said the other. “I just wish he wouldn’t stare at me like that.”
Justin almost laughed. “Don’t worry,” he told Erin. “It’s probably just a schoolboy crush. You should be flattered!”
“Hey, great,” said Erin acidly, trying to get comfortable. “Let’s just hope he doesn’t bring me any more presents.”
The next day, they were basking in the sun, digesting a meal of oatmeal (scavenged from the flotsam) and fried gopher, when the Kid, who’d been sitting and watching them, as always, suddenly bolted to his feet. Thin frame tensed, he tilted his head back, sniffed the air, and cast about. Then, gesturing madly for Justin and Erin to follow, he ran for his shed. In another two seconds, he had vanished within.
“What’s eating him?” asked Erin. “It’s like he’s scared of something.”
“Yes,” frowned Justin. “And if he’s afraid, maybe we should be, too. Come on, let’s get under cover.”
They hid in the shed for a few minutes, watching out of a crack in the door, as the sun beat down and the flies buzzed, but nothing happened. Justin was about to give up and leave the sweltering little pillbox, but then he heard the sound of footsteps and the swish of someone walking through grass. Tensing, he looked around for a possible weapon, but soon sagged in relief as a familiar voice rang out.
“Hey, anybody here?! Doctor Case? Y’all in there?”
“Oh, thank Christ,” said Justin, sagging. “It’s only Bowler.”
“Yeah,” Erin sighed, wiping her brow. “Bowler. Now, what say we go see what he’s been up to.”
As it turned out, the young man had evidently been up to quite a lot. Excitedly, once he’d had some water and a little oatmeal, he told his tale.
“I woke up and y’all were still dead to the world, so I dragged ya’ll into that little shed thing, and there was this kid—well, I guess you met him by now. Anyway, I got up, feeling like shit, and looked around and whatnot, had some water an’ some of the kid’s rabbit meat. But y’all were still out, you know? And the kid, he didn’t talk or nothin’, so I figured well, I better see if I can’t find some help, you know? Maybe there’s somebody or something around that can help us.
“Anyhow, I just started walkin’ up the road, you know? I thought maybe there’d be an old strip mall or something. Even a survie compound. So I walk and I walk, all morning, and finally I come to this old convenience store. Like an SA. It looks pretty beat-up, even burned a little, but it’s still standing, you know? So I go over to the place, wary-like, and look around, and there’s obviously still some stuff left in there. Food packages, cans, bottles… well, y’all know what that’s like, when you find somethin’ like that, you gotta go for it. Not like there’s a lotta that kinda stuff left, you know?”
“Yes, of course,” nodded Justin. “Go on.”
“OK, so I go on in there, right? Real careful, takin’ my time. And it looks OK. No one around, nothin’ stirrin’, place don’t look like it’s gonna fall down or nothin’, and I go over to this rack, where there’s some chips, you know, and then Wham! All of a sudden, this big fuckin’ hole opens up, right under my feet, and I fall, like, shit I dunno, twenny feet or so. Just whoosh! And all of a sudden I’m layin’ at the bottom of a hole!”
“Are you alright?” asked Erin solicitously. “Were you hurt?”
“Naw, I’m OK,” waved Bowler. “Couple scrapes. But here’s the weird part: it wasn’t just a hole. It was more like a shaft, you know? Like a tunnel. Course, it was dark, so I couldn’t see too far, but it had to go on for quite a ways.”