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  “Let’s finish eating this great stuff and go see Mom.”

  “Yum!” Simon said, his smile twisted into a grimace that made Kate laugh.

  And did that ever feel good.

  CHAPTER 7

  Plans

  Kate led the way into her mom’s room, and saw an empty bed. Simon nearly collided into her.

  Then they both looked to the window where their mother was standing, holding one of those metal walkers that old people use, and then—with a smile— started shuffling toward them.

  Steps away, the nurse, Karen, looked on, a big smile on her face as well. Kate led the way into her mom’s room, and saw an empty bed. Simon nearly collided into her.

  Then they both looked to the window where their mother was standing, holding one of those metal walkers that old people use, and then—with a smile—started shuffling toward them.

  Steps away, the nurse, Karen, looked on, a big smile on her face as well.

  “You’re up,” Kate said, pointing out the obvious.

  “She’s doing great!” Karen said.

  “Little tricky,” her mom said as she lifted the walker a bit and took some more steps. “Bit of practice, and I think I might manage with just a cane.”

  Simon walked over to his mother. And Kate was suddenly afraid that he would tell their mother now what they had seen.

  While Kate felt that it was best they talked about it when they were alone.

  Just the three of them.

  “That’s great, Mom,” Kate said fast as if that might keep Simon quiet.

  But then with a glance from her brother, nodding toward the nurse, his lips tight, she knew she didn’t have anything to worry about.

  He didn’t say a thing. Just smiled as his mother closed the distance to one end of the room, and then turned.

  “Now, don’t overdo it,” Karen said. “A few more ‘laps’ then back to bed. Still healing, you know…”

  Christie nodded, then, after one step, now closer, Kate looked right at her.

  A silent message.

  That Kate was sure her mother got.

  We need to talk.

  Alone.

  Christie turned to the nurse. “Think I’ll stop for now. More later, okay? And now a little visit with my kids.”

  Karen nodded.

  “Sure. Maybe a walk down the hallway before dinner?”

  “Great.”

  Karen smiled, looking from Christie to Kate… Simon.

  Then left the room.

  The door open.

  Kate walked over to the door—waited a few moments, and then gently pushed it shut tight.

  *

  Christie sat on the bed, Simon sitting close, Kate standing.

  My big girl, she thought.

  “Looks like you’re doing good, Mom,” she said.

  And Christie thought, She didn’t shut the door to tell me that.

  “Least I can move. Healing is going well. Yeah, so not bad.”

  Quiet then. Christie looked at Simon, whose eyes were trained on his sister.

  Until Christie had to say: “Okay. What’s up?”

  Kate nodded.

  “Down the hallway, at the other end…”

  “Where we weren’t supposed to go,” Simon added.

  Where of course he went.

  “We saw something.” He took a breath. “It was scary, Mom.”

  Christie nodded. She had talked to the doctor about this hospital. What was going on.

  More importantly: How it could keep going on. All these people, holed up here, hiding.

  “What did you see?”

  And now Simon slid off the bed.

  “It was a wall. Made out of things like”—and he pointed to the metal pole that held her IV drip, now no longer needed—“those things. And chairs. A big wall, a pile of junk.”

  “Like it was made to keep things out,” Kate added.

  Christie nodded. She could guess what that “wall” was, and what it meant.

  This place, with its fence, not always secure.

  It had been attacked, and it could be again.

  Christie cleared her throat. “I understand.”

  She didn’t know what to say. She had hoped she could recover here, get stronger. For the past few days, that had been her only thought—that and the idea that her kids were safe here.

  But that wall meant something else.

  “Mom—we don’t think we should stay here much longer,” Kate said.

  “Any,” Simon added.

  Christie turned to him.

  “Any longer,” Simon said. Then, after he looked away, “I got a bad feeling, Mom.”

  And after what Simon had been through, how could she ignore his feelings?

  At that moment, before she could respond to her son, the door opened. Karen stuck her head in. “All good?”

  Christie smiled, nodded.

  Wondering whether Karen had any idea what this “meeting” was about.

  “Just wanted to let you know that the doctor will be by in a bit, check things. I told him you’re doing great with the walker. Maybe can use a cane soon.”

  Christie forced a smile. “Thanks.”

  Karen nodded and then, maybe—Christie thought—sensing that the door had been shut for a reason, the nurse backed out and shut the door tightly behind her.

  Kate took a step closer.

  Her voice a whisper.

  “Mom. We need to plan.”

  Simon nodded.

  Christie looked at the two of them. She had told them that they would be doing things, deciding things—whatever happened—together. And while she had hoped she could have gotten a few more days to not think about things, that wasn’t going to happen.

  “Okay. Let’s talk. Just like we agreed.”

  She took Kate’s left hand, steering her to sit on her left.

  Then Simon’s right hand as well, holding it tight.

  “What do you two… think?”

  Kate took the lead, telling Christie about the wall of chairs, tables, metal at the end of the hall. “I’m guessing there’s been break-ins.”

  “Could be. At least one, I guess,” Christie said.

  “Maybe more, Mom,” Simon added. “No one has told us that though. Pretty sure people here aren’t too happy we’re here.”

  She turned to her son.

  “What do you mean?”

  “Dunno. But the looks they give us? Like they wish we’d just go away.”

  “The nurse, Karen… she’s nice,” Kate added quickly. “But, yeah, well… people look at us.”

  Kate nodded.

  Christie could have suspected that.

  With everything scarce: food, supplies, weapons and ammo… the stuff of life these days. All in limited supply. Newcomers would definitely be unwelcome.

  The big question: how unwelcome?

  “Okay, Sorry, kids you had to, um, deal with that. I just had hoped… while I got better…”

  Now Simon took over. “Mom. We don’t think this is a good place to be when they come.”

  “The Can Heads,” she said.

  “Yes,” Simon said. “But the others too. They’re out there somewhere. Those people how they caught me… who had me in a noose, caught…”

  She thought for a moment that Simon was about to crack. His eyes glistened, and she felt that there was nothing she could do to stem the tears.

  Her own throat tightened.

  They hadn’t talked about that night.

  Not yet.

  Now they sat, the three of them talking quietly.

  Plotting, she thought.

  Because that’s what they were doing. The three of them, alone, trying to figure out what to do.

  “But there’s a fence, kids. That big electric fence.”

  Christie squeezed her kids’ hands.

  Kate shook her head. “Then what about the wall we saw, Mom? If that fence always works, if it’s always dependable, why is that whole side of the buil
ding closed?”

  “It’s like…” And now Simon slid off the bed, freeing himself from his mother’s handhold. “…they’re all hiding here, just waiting for the next attack.”

  He turned and looked right at her, seeming so much not like a boy.

  He’s changed, she thought.

  His voice so serious, his meaning clear.

  “And we can’t do that.” A breath. “We can’t hide.”

  She looked at Kate. Maybe her daughter better understood how long it takes to fully recuperate, understood that Christie would want some more time.

  But Christie meant what she had told them. If there was one thing they could depend upon, it was her promises, their trust in her.

  She had to hold true to that.

  “Okay. The doctor’s coming in soon. Let me talk to him… about how I’m doing. About what we might do…”

  “When we can leave here,” Simon said.

  Christie nodded. “That too. ’Cause… well, we can’t just leave. I mean, to just go out there. I mean, we need to figure out where to go, what we will do.”

  Another moment where she came close to losing it.

  “You saw our home, our development. That’s gone. We have to have a place we’re going if we leave, right?”

  Kate nodded. Simon didn’t seem so sure.

  “I guess so,” he said. “But if we know we shouldn’t stay here, then does it really matter if we know where we’re going?”

  Christie took a breath.

  Her son’s logic amazing.

  And grim.

  “Okay, you two. Let’s… not get ahead of ourselves. Let me talk to the doctor, try to learn what I can about what’s been going on here, and outside.”

  “Then we leave… soon,” Simon said.

  Christie smiled at him. “Then… we come up with a plan,” she said. “May take a few days. Do you think you can just—I don’t know—be okay for those days? Be patient?”

  She looked especially at Kate. There could be special dangers for a teenage girl in a place like this.

  No matter how nice the doctor and his nurse seemed.

  Which meant… they might not have a lot of time.

  “That sound all right?”

  Then—an amazing moment—Kate looked at Simon, and they nodded to each other.

  The two of them, who used to fight over just about anything.

  How she wished for all that bickering to come back.

  “Okay,” Kate said. Then her daughter smiled. “Good to see you walking, Mom. Keep getting better.”

  “Doing my best,” Christie said. “Now I think I’ll lie down.”

  She nodded. “Come on, Simon.”

  They walked out of the room, now leaving the door open a crack.

  And Christie lay back in the bed.

  Not so much in need of rest, as time to think.

  The question huge, overwhelming…

  What do we do?

  What the hell… do we do?

  CHAPTER 8

  A Bedside Chat

  Christie opened her eyes and saw Dr. Martin, clipboard in hand, standing beside the bed.

  “Doctor,” she said.

  She realized that even the small amount of walking she had done had taken a toll and that she might not be as strong as she thought she was.

  Still, as she promised her kids, she’d have to have this conversation.

  “Ah, awake. Hear you’ve been tearing up and down with the walker. Good to hear. Let me look at the wound and see how that’s doing, hmm?”

  Christie nodded.

  The doctor seemed so warm, reassuring… a character out of a Norman Rockwell painting, an old-time doctor of a type that she would have thought had vanished a long time ago.

  But then she remembered that all the other doctors from this place had indeed vanished.

  This Dr. Martin had to be a very special breed.

  It made her think that maybe she’d like to stay here longer.

  But then, she didn’t know what it was like outside the hospital room doors, out with the other people, getting looks, being the “unwelcome visitors.”

  He peeled back the blanket and sheet, and then looked down at the bandage.

  “Don’t want to remove it completely. Not if all’s good. Just want to take a look at the stitches… so here we go.”

  She felt the adhesive pull at her skin.

  The doctor nodded, then up to her face. “Looks great. Never was the best one for knitting things up, but must say… not too bad. And it’s not wet, dry and healing’s going well.” A nod, the doctor pleased to pass on the news. “All good.”

  He pressed the bandage back into place. “We’ll change it this evening. Fresh compress… maybe something smaller.”

  He pulled the blanket and sheet up and started to turn away.

  “Doctor,” Christie said.

  He stopped, turned in place.

  Had to be other people here who needed his attention. Kids with colds, pregnant women, people who had been hurt… attacked just getting here.

  Only one man, and probably so much to do.

  Still, “Can I talk to you a bit?”

  He didn’t immediately nod or smile. But Christie watched him narrow his eyes, a wise look that suggested to her that maybe he knew what was about to come.

  Finally he said, “Sure. Of course.”

  He pulled a chair close to the bed. He too glanced at the open door but didn’t shut it.

  After all, he didn’t know what she was going to talk about.

  “Doctor, I wonder… I’ve been talking with my kids. And just wondering about things…”

  A small nod.

  Suggesting… go on.

  So she did.

  “About this place, the hospital. Everyone here. Just wondering about how safe we are.”

  She waited, thinking that he would immediately offer reassurances.

  Instead, this doctor who seemed so warm, chatty even, was quiet.

  “About the danger here.”

  She wondered if he knew she was referring to all kinds of danger, and not just the packs of Can Heads prowling outside.

  Then, “Ask away.”

  She described the “wall” that her kids had seen, and what it obviously meant.

  And then, a bit harder to say, how her kids felt those looks from people making them feel unwanted.

  The doctor rubbed his chin, weighing his words.

  “I do… what I can here, Christie. The thing I was trained for, hmm? Help people”—A smile now—“repair them, just like I did with your leg. Deal with everything that comes here… that’s what a doctor does. And I do it here because it’s a hospital, yes? We have rooms, beds, some medicine—though the supplies get less and less.”

  Christie tried to figure out where he was going with this.

  “So, you ask about safety? And I frankly don’t know what to tell you. Yes, we’ve been attacked. That pile of junk, that ‘wall,’ was made after the last one. The fence went down, and in they came. Lost people that night. But that was over a month ago. Now we have backups. I think…”

  Hesitation there, as if he really didn’t believe it.

  “…think we’re safer now.”

  “And the people here?”

  “Hmm?”

  “How safe are they?”

  No smile now.

  “The people here, they’re all types. Like any community of people just… thrown together. Technically, this is still a hospital, so maybe I should be in charge.”

  A beat.

  “But I’m not. A group of men seems to run things, not that anyone elected them.”

  “So… outside this room, it’s a different world?”

  “Yes. And I’m not saying it’s not safe here, for you, your kids. It’s a world of people just trying to stay alive in the face of something they don’t understand.”

  “They’re afraid.”

  “Exactly. And we know what fear can do.”

 
Christie thought over his words before continuing.

  Then, “Thank you for answering my questions. I’m thinking that… as soon as possible… it might be best if my kids and I leave.”

  Another squint, the doctor in the room not liking that.

  “You still have healing to do, more rehabilitation. I think any thought of that, any discussion… well, it’s not for now.”

  And then Christie got a sense that there was something that he hadn’t told her, that now he was about to tell her.

  Then, he did. “I have a question for you.”

  Christie’s turn to nod.

  “Were you a runner?”

  “Um, before kids, yes, I always ran, even the early years. Did 5Ks, even a few longer races.”

  “I imagined as much.”

  “And we had a treadmill. Jack didn’t like the idea of me running around our neighborhood. Though it seemed perfectly safe, he always said…”

  He always said.

  And she could hear his voice, so strong, so straight, so clear in her ears. And it was almost too much.

  She waited a moment.

  A breath.

  “I ran on the treadmill. Tried to stay fit. Really important, especially after everything changed.”

  “After the Can Heads…”

  Then the doctor looked down at Christie’s leg, as if he needed say nothing more.

  “What is it?” she asked.

  “Even after you heal, even after your leg is all better, there’s been muscle damage. Also, some nerve damage. It will heal, but…”

  She could figure out the rest.

  “You’re saying… I won’t ever run again?”

  A nod. “In a bigger hospital, we could do advanced tissue work, perhaps give you better mobility. But here, with what we have, I can get you walking—”

  “You already have.”

  A smile. “Yes. But you won’t be able to run with that leg. I just needed you to know that.”

  And Christie nodded, though she had only started to process what the doctor’s words meant.

  In this world, not be able to run, what did that mean?

  What could that mean?

  Can Heads could be so fast. Those people that she saw herding children.

  Children.

  They could easily outrun her.

  Slowly, the meaning of Dr. Martin’s words was sinking in. She would have a vulnerability that—in this world—could mean the difference between life and death.