Scavenging Duty

She hated scavenging duty.

For some reason searching through peoples’ abandoned belongings, trying to find anything useful, always made her feel dirty. It was her turn though and the camp was tense. No one had said it yet but their gardens were not doing well this year. They needed non-perishables. And she needed the distraction.

They left at first light. 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 had run away before the sickness had reached them had left their homes in fairly good condition. Unfortunately, those towns often weren’t worth scavenging as the people that fled had taken the good stuff with them. The towns that had been caught off guard were the ones to search.

The two pickup trucks pulled off the main road and onto one of the residential streets near the edge of their chosen town. She hopped down from the truck, 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.

“Hey,” she was startled out of her reverie by her partner for the day. “You can stay and guard the trucks if you want.”

“Guard them from what?” she asked. “We’re the only things out here.”

“I know. I just…” he shrugged looking uncomfortable. She frowned, waiting for further explanation.

“I heard about the night watch attack last week.”

Her frown disappeared and her eyes dropped to the ground.

“I’m sorry about-“

“It’s fine.” She said, cutting him off and turning away before he could say his name. She couldn’t bear to hear his name.

Another man with a baseball cap and a woman with a ponytail got out of the second truck.

“If anyone sees a pair of size fifteen shoes, I could really use ‘em,” the man with the baseball cap stuck a finger in a giant hole in the heel of his left shoe as evidence.

She nodded and headed toward the first house.

She searched from the bottom up. Cold cellars in the basement tended to have the cans and preserves. Then she moved to the kitchen for dry goods. Bathrooms were where she usually found the medicine. Garages and sheds for tools and building materials. Bedrooms were last for clothes or blankets.

They had been working for a couple hours, making their way down the street, when she found herself in a small, two-bedroom bungalow. 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, lots of 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 that 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 before they left. It was a perfect time capsule.

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. Mostly shirts and pants but she included one dress for special occasions. 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 and wondered what she could possibly desire from a young girl’s bedroom. The pillows looked comfortable. She punched one of them to test its’ softness when her fist hit the corner of a book. She pulled out a diary and smiled. The little girl was obviously too young to have realized that mommy washed the bedding while she was at school.

She sat at the edge of the bed and started flipping pages. Her smile grew as she read about the things young girls used to worry about and look forward to.

June 29th 2021 – “We watched a movie for our last day of school and I got to sit on the floor next to Jacob! Our hands touched! I’m not sure if he knew our hands were touching though.”

She smirked at the head games boys and girls started playing so young.

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 let us go to the swimming complex? If I invite six people 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 starting to worry 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 instead that the real problems began.

July 10th 2021 – “My parents cancelled by birthday party because of all the sick people. It’s not fair! I think they are sad too though. 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. By July 13th there were cases of the sickness being reported all across the country. Nowhere was safe.

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. None of it was fair.

“Hey.” The man with the baseball cap stood in the doorway, “We’re burnin’ daylight.”

“Sorry,” she said softly but remained still. He seemed to sense ghosts in the room and moved on.

With an inhale she pressed herself into standing and started to reach for the cans. Her hands bypassed the food and started searching 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.

She took the cans to the truck and was coming back for the clothes when she decided to take a peek in the garage. The sunlight from the hall illuminated a single car. No van. She gave a small satisfied smile and shut the door.

She moved onto the next house and started the process all over again. As she sorted and searched, she started doing the math. She had been good at math and probably would have graduated with honours.

If they left on the 24th and travelled 60 km/hr for four days straight, assuming the mother and father refused to stop, except for gas, they could have made it around the city. I heard there’s a huge camp on the other side of the city.

She found a large bag of flour. There were bugs in it but they could strain it when they got back to camp.

There’s a lake there too. Maybe she met some new boys to swim with.

They made it to the end of the first street, took a lunch break and then headed back down the next street.

She would be in her late teens by now. She could be doing guard duty. I bet she’s bored out of her mind.

She was heading out the front door of another house when she took a quick sweep through a closet and found a pair of humungous running shoes.

Showing off your skills with a gun is the new way to flirt. I wonder if she’s a good shot.

They had worked their way to the end of the second street and back to the main road. The town had yielded an eclectic haul. She rearranged the back seat and then moved to the bed of the truck to check the straps. She was debating whether she should squeeze herself inside or if she would be more comfortable riding in the bed. Wiping the hair out of her face, she got a bottle of water and took a swig. It was the first time she had paused since she had found the diary. Scavenging had been an effective distraction after all.

The second team had a couple large items to puzzle into their vehicle. She squinted at the sun that was dipping west but was not threatening their safety yet. She wondered if she had time to go back for the diary. They had cleared the road of branches and abandoned cars on their way here so the ride back would be shorter. She was looking down the main street in the direction of the young girl’s home when her eyes caught something off to the side. She went perfectly still. Her nostrils flared and she blinked to confirm what she was seeing.

The van was ugly. It had hit a telephone pole. She walked towards it slowly, like it was a skittish animal, when really, she was the one who wanted to turn and run. As she approached, she could clearly see the remains of a man and a woman in the front seats. She came around the side of the van. Through the broken windows, the back appeared to be empty. She looked back at their trucks. The others hadn’t noticed her leave. Her jaw was clenched with indecision. She held the water in her left hand but the fingers of her right were itching to whip the side door open.

Like ripping a band-aid, she lunged and pulled the door aside. The small body was laying across the middle row of seats, dressed in pink. She choked back a sob and turned her head away. She took a couple deep breaths and bowed her head. The young girl hadn’t even had time to undo her seatbelt. She thrust her hand forward and searched the neck area as quickly as possible. Her fingers found a chain and she was able to pull it over the remains of the head. The locket was just as she had described it. Right down to the piece of paper inside. She removed it and splashed the locket with some water before putting it back. She could see the bungalow from where she was standing. They hadn’t even made it one block.

“That’s a pretty necklace,” the girl with the ponytail said.

“Yeah,” she breathed as she ran her thumb over it.

She closed her fist around the locket, bit her lip and gazed at the contents of the van one last time. Then she slipped the chain over her head and walked back to the trucks.

“We should come back tomorrow. This place was a gold mine,” her partner observed.

She gave a tight smile and a nod. She grabbed the stuffed animal and her rifle before climbing into the bed of the truck. She settled into the corner, bracing herself with one arm while the other curled around the stuffed animal. They would come back tomorrow. And the day after that. And the day after that. Until the town was empty. Then they would move on to the next one.

Because what else could they do?