After Grace

24. Three Weeks Later

Everywhere I looked there were signs of old panic. An overturned car burnt down to its nuts and bolts on the sidewalk, baby clothes on the street, broken glass peppering the asphalt. Travis and I moved in and out of the stores at either side of the road without words, our eyes glossing over the scattered debris which lay like fragmented memories from a time when this now silent town was nothing short of bedlam.

Though I had no real interest in bringing anyone else with me when I went scouting for supplies, Wilson had insisted I take Travis, promising me he was the best shot of anyone in the group, and reminding me that all the other hunters had already paired up and gone off in different directions, also in search of supplies. If he didn't come with me, I would have no cover.

After searching the ransacked food markets in the center of town we took to the streets again. I stopped when I saw a wooden sign with the outline of a raven still hanging from its chain on the corner. "Let's check in there," I said. I didn't wait for an answer before entering the used bookstore.

"I don't think there's much nutritional value to these," Travis joked as he came in behind me.

"Never know," I said, scanning the titles on half fallen shelves and scattered on the floor beneath us.

"So, listen," he started. "I think we need to talk about your plan. I'm sorry to ambush you but whenever I try to say anything with the others around-"

"I know you arranged to have us come out here together," I told him and bent down when one of the books on the rug caught my eye. The girl on the cover reminded me of Annie, I flipped through the beginning and saw that her name was Sara Crew.

"You knew, and you came anyway?"

"Why wouldn't I?"

"I'm really sorry," he said with a bashful smile as he pretended to read the book titles around him. "I'm just concerned. My wife's not doing so good. She keeps asking for more detail, she wants to know things that I don't even know and she nearly has a panic attack when I can't answer her. I don't think we've worked it all through."

"We haven't," I said, stuffing the book in my backpack. I turned to and looked in his eyes. "The other group might not take us in," I said.

"That's right! We're traveling all this way, using all our supplies-and we may end up with nothing after this."

"That's true. But there's no alternative."

"There's one," he said. I stepped outside again, the sun was directly over us with no clouds to ease its heat. "Marcus," he said as he followed me out.

"I told you, that won't work."

"He's our leverage," he urged.

"We have no leverage. Strength is their religion, letting us go after such a personal offense would be seen as an affront to their beliefs. She's not letting anyone free after this. I'm sorry I dragged you into it."

"Well, from what the others said, if they had listened to you from the beginning, none of this would be happening now, so I can't exactly blame you."

"We have to try to get to this other group, maybe then we can really build something."

"You're sure she wouldn't stop chasing us? Even if we returned him safe and sound? If it was my kid-"

"They're here to take everything. If we don't stop them, they will," I said. He looked down, thinking.

"I don't want to be a soldier," he told me. "I don't want that for my son."

"We're not soldiers," I told him. "We're just... caught in the middle."

The long squeal of faulty brakes shrieked through the streets. A roaring engine rattled to an abrupt stop. We quietly ran back to the bookstore and crouched behind the windows. Before long, a pair of young men dressed in beige work-boots and clean flannel shirts came strolling around the corner. They were smiling and talking about something I couldn't quite make out, but I could tell they were old friends. Travis lifted his rifle and took aim. "Don't," I whispered. "It's not them."

"How can you be sure?" he asked.

"They're not holding their guns," I told him. "And they look happy." He pulled the rifle back and stood up.

"I hope you're right, my kid doesn't deserve to live like this. Cover me," he walked out. With no time to hesitate or protest, I lifted my own rifle, surprised at how steady my hands were.

"Alright," Travis said to the boys, his rifle sat in both hands but he wasn't aiming it outright. The boys jumped and turned around. "Don't reach. I don't want to hurt you." Travis moved closer to them, keeping my line of sight clean, just in case.

"What'd you want?" the lanky one asked.

"What're your names?" Travis remained calm, his voice without a hint of malice. They didn't answer for a moment, then sensing Travis' lack of hostility the shorter one spoke.

"I'm Seth, he's Leonard."

"Okay, good, I'm Travis. So here's the deal, I have a group with me and we're out of supplies. We're good people but we're dying out here. We know there's a big group somewhere close by and I'm willing to bet you're a part of it right?"

"What makes you say that?" Seth asked.

"You're fed and smiling. Clothes are clean."

"We can't-we're not supposed to bring people," Leonard said.

"We're just scouts. You'd have to ask Emmer, he's the one in charge," Seth added.

"So take me to him."

"We can't, it's a week's drive, plus, he doesn't want anyone to know where we are. We could ask him to come here," Seth suggested.

"It would take you a week to get there, 'nother week for him to get here, if he came at all. That's time we don't have," Travis said and lifted the gun. "I'm sorry guys, I'm gonna have to insist. Slowly, put your gun on the street and step back."

After a moment's hesitation, they did as they were told. Travis turned to look at me, I stood from my spot and moved to the door, as I was about to open it, I was met by the echoes of clapping hands. Travis snapped back. I ducked by the window again. The clapping man walked up to Travis with a smile. I put his head in my sights.

"Hands up," Travis ordered. The unarmed man did not comply.

"What a lucky day, come 'ere look'n for scraps, find myself a damn feast."

"I'm not gonna ask agai-" Travis started, his word were cut short when the lanky boy behind him suddenly dropped to the ground, the boom of the sniper's shot didn't come for another second.

"How 'bout you hold your hands up, and I won't have my man shoot you right here and now?"

Seth beside his friend and put his hands over the wound. Travis lowered his gun and, as carefully as possible, gestured with his hand for me to stand down. I dropped the backpack I was carrying and slung the rifle around my back as the man took Travis' gun away from him.

I slowly stepped over the collapsed shelves and moved quietly out the back door of the shop. As I set out through the narrow alleyways in pursuit of the hidden sniper, I remembered how I had always wanted to be a hunter as a child.