Scavenger

She hated scavenging.

Searching through peoples’ abandoned belongings, trying to find anything useful, made her feel dirty. It was her turn though, and the camp was tense. Their gardens were not doing well this year. They needed non-perishables.

They had to drive hours now to find homes worth searching. Some of the towns they went through looked deceptively normal, except for the lack of people. The towns that had taken the news seriously and ran away before the sickness had reached them had left their homes in fairly good condition, but empty. The towns that had been caught off guard were the ones to search.

The two pickup trucks pulled onto one of the residential streets near the edge of town. She hopped down, swung her rifle over her shoulder and shut the door while taking a look around. The carnage was clearly visible even though several years had passed. Broken windows, overturned cars and plenty of bodies riddled the area. This town’s last days had been chaos. Each house representing at least one, but most likely multiple lives cut short, or at the very least, changed forever.

“Carmen,” she turned towards Nick who was getting out of the second truck, “You and David search together. Jerome and I will work across the street. Cynthia will guard the trucks.”

She nodded. They put on their masks and face shields and headed off on their assignments.

They had a system. Sweep the house for Sick Ones, then search from the bottom up. Cold cellars for preserves, kitchens for dry goods, bathrooms for medicine, garages for tools and bedrooms for clothes.

They had been working for a couple hours when she found herself in a small, two-bedroom bungalow. They had found a fresh body in the kitchen during the sweep, but the rest of the house and the town was still quiet. This family had tried to grab some stuff before running but there was still plenty left. She had an armful of cans when she glanced into one of the bedrooms. It clearly had belonged to a young girl. Small bed, stuffed animals and pink everywhere. What made her stop though was that it was immaculate. The bed was perfectly made, no clothes or toys on the floor, just a thick layer of dust. When she looked across the hall at the master bedroom, it was clear the parents had known they weren’t coming back. Their things were strewn about everywhere. They must have told the girl they were going on a trip and she had taken the time to tidy her room.

One of the women back at camp had a six-year-old daughter and the kid was growing like a weed.

She entered the room and set the cans on the dresser. It felt wrong to disturb the space. She shoved the feeling aside and started sorting clothes. She grabbed a stuffed animal too. She was about to leave but felt the urge to take something for herself.

She frowned at the whim. What she could possibly desire from a young girl’s bedroom? The pillows looked comfortable. She punched one of them when her fist hit the corner of a book. She pulled out a diary and smiled. The young girl obviously hadn’t realized that mommy washed the bedding while she was at school.

She sat on the edge of the bed and started flipping. Her smile grew as she read about the things young girls felt were worth writing about.

July 1st 2021 – “My birthday is coming up and my parents are going to let me have my first girl/boy party! I wonder if my parents would take us swimming? If I invite five friends though, we’re going to have to take the big, ugly van which will be so embarrassing!”

The girl might be older than she thought if she was already worried about her image.

July 5th 2021 – “I keep hearing about people getting sick and dying. Dad told me it was far away and we’re safe, but I feel bad for them.”

It was when the sick people stopped dying and became violent that the real problems began.

July 13th 2021 – “My parents cancelled by birthday party because of all the sick people. It’s not fair! They said they were sorry and gave me an early birthday present. A heart-shaped locket! It’s beautiful and real gold! It must have cost a lot of money. I put a piece of paper with Jacob’s name in it.”

That was the last entry. She closed the diary and set it down on the bed. Her hand lingered on the book. The young girl was right. It wasn’t fair.

With an inhale she stood and started to reach for the cans but her hands bypassed the food and searched the top of the dresser. Then she looked through the jewelry box, routed through the drawers again and checked the bedside table. She didn’t see the locket anywhere.

While squatting to search under the bed, she heard a shuffle behind her. She paused, then turned around slowly.

They had assumed it was dead, but the Sick One had evidently had enough strength left to drag itself down the hall and into the bedroom. It was impossible to tell if it was a man or woman with its’ emaciated body, splotchy skin and chunks of missing hair. Carmen glanced at her rifle which leaned against the wall.

They lunged at the same time. It swiped her face shield off and knocked her back. Her right hand grasped the gun. She could feel the Sick One’s breath and spittle as it shrieked in her face. She managed to kick it hard across the room, regain her feet and shot it in the head.

It had only taken seconds.

David came running down the hall.

“Stay back!” she shouted.

He stopped in the doorway and they processed the scene.

“To the trucks,” she ordered.

He ran out of the house towards the trucks. She was a few steps behind.

At the trucks she ripped off her mask. David tossed her a bottle of water. She washed her face, rinsed her eyes, gargled and spat. She took off her shirt and pants and kicked them to the side. David tossed her a clean shirt and some sweatpants. Water was precious but she rinsed again.

By the time she had finished, the rest of the team had returned. They stood and stared at each other, unwilling to speak.

“You have to leave me behind,” she stated.

David was about to protest but Nick cut him off. “We’ll come back tomorrow at noon. It’s approximately seven o’clock and the virus has an incubation period of eight hours. You’ll know before we get back whether you’ve been infected.”

She nodded, still in shock.

Nick pointed to a house across the street, “That house has a secure cellar. You can sleep in there. If you’re not sitting under this lamppost when we come back, we’ll assume the worst.”

He took a couple bottles of water and placed them on the ground. He started to reach for some food but she stopped him.

“I can find my own,” she reassured him.

He paused, looking around for anything else he could give her, but then nodded. “See you tomorrow.”

The team packed a couple more things, tossed her a new mask and face shield and then climbed into the trucks. David was last.

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

She watched them drive away.

She had a few hours of daylight left. She entered the house that Nick had pointed to, did another sweep for Sick Ones and then checked the cellar. It had a solid deadbolt. She brought in some pillows and blankets to make a nest, then started to worry about how she would tell time in a windowless room. What if she waited too long and missed their return? She found a clock hanging in the living room and some batteries in a junk drawer. The ticking was obnoxious once she got it working. She found a functioning flashlight too. By the time she finished, the sun was setting.

She entered the cellar and secured the deadbolt. She was exhausted. She wanted to leave the flashlight on but she didn’t trust the old batteries. The ticking of the clock overpowered the small space. She lay in the dark and tried to use its’ rhythm to fall asleep like counting sheep. It was fitful. Every time she woke, the ticking immediately reminded her where she was and why. Panicked, she had to turn on the light to check the time and her skin. If any splotches appeared, she would use the rifle. What if the batteries were bad and the clock was slowing down?

By approximately 8:00am she couldn’t wait any longer. She opened the door with the rifle raised. There was nothing waiting for her except beams of sunlight from the top of the stairs. She checked her skin one last time. It remained clear. She had survived.

She went to the lamppost but quickly realized she wouldn’t be able to sit and wait till noon. She scavenged instead. She found another case of water, more cans of food and containers of gasoline. She piled it under the lamppost. Nick would be pleased. Not only had she survived the night alone and avoided infection, she had been productive.

When it got close to noon, she remained under the lamppost so she wouldn’t miss them. She waited. The sun continued to travel across the sky. She frowned and listened for tires. While scanning the horizon for disturbed dust, she saw it.

The van was ugly. It had hit a telephone pole. As she approached, she could see the remains of a man and a woman in the front seats. The rest of the van looked empty as she came around the side. Her jaw clenched. Like ripping a band-aid, she whipped the door open. The small body was laying across the middle row of seats, wearing pink. She took a couple deep breaths and bowed her head. Carmen could see the bungalow from where she was standing. They hadn’t even made it one block. She thrust her hand forward and searched the neck area. Her fingers found a chain and she was able to pull it over the remains of the head. The locket was just as the young girl had described it. Right down to the piece of paper inside.

She slipped the chain over her head and looked up at the sky. The sun was way past noon. They weren’t coming back.

It didn’t make sense. Even if they thought she was a goner, it was worth coming back for the food. Something had kept them from returning.

With the remaining daylight, she found a car and pulled the bodies out. A guy back at camp had taught her how to hotwire. She made sure she could get it running and topped off the gas with one of the containers she found. She loaded the rest of the goods into the trunk.

The second night in the cellar was a little less horrible than the first.

She took to the road as soon as it was light out. They had cleared the road of branches and abandoned cars on their way to the town so the ride back was shorter. It wasn’t long before she saw smoke.

The camp was destroyed.

Nick’s body was beside the truck. They hadn’t even finished unpacking. The rest of the bodies were scattered. She called out softly to any survivors but she didn’t know if there were Sick Ones still nearby. The garden shed was still smoldering. She kicked some of the planks of wood and spotted some seed packets. She reached down with one hand and picked them up.

These could be useful.

Her other hand reached for the locked as she realized what she was doing.

She hated scavenging.