Page 32 of Protected

This region appears to be mostly deserted. Most people fled to the center of the country to avoid the flooding and earthquakes that ravaged both coasts. We’re kind of in no-man’s-land here in what used to be western Kentucky.

We’ve parked in what was the back of the freestanding building, so we walk the perimeter to the front. When we reach it, all three of us freeze.

We’re not alone.

There’s an old pickup parked at an angle right near the door, and behind the truck bed is someone clearly at a guard post.

It’s not a man though. It’s a very small, very pretty young woman—girl?—with dark hair and an oversized man’s T-shirt.

“Cal!” she calls out sharply, stiffening and aiming at us as soon as we move into sight.

Deck’s already aiming at her, and Micah shifts quickly to the right when a big man comes out of the opening where the glass doors of the store used to be, pointing a shotgun at us.

The man is almost as large as Deck, but he’s older with a tough, intimidating face. He looks dangerous. Like the kind of person who shoots first and asks questions later.

So I call out quickly, “We mean no harm! We’re just passing through.”

The man peers from me to Micah to Deck and leaves his shotgun trained on Deck. “If that’s true, then get the fuck out of here. We were here first.”

The young woman—who is definitely younger than me and probably still a teenager—adds, “We won’t shoot unless you make us.”

I believe she means what she’s saying, but I’m not sure the man necessarily agrees. I’m so scared I’m almost shaking from it. I trust Deck and Micah. They’re not going to kill innocent people who are simply trying to stay alive.

But that man… he looks like he’s cut from a different cloth.

“Right, Cal?” the girl adds. She’s got a straightforward manner—like not much fazes her—and her tone is slightly impatient. She must have had long experience trying to rein her companion in.

Cal makes a growling sound. “I’ll stop aimin’ at them when they stop aimin’ at you.”

Deck is tightly on guard. I can feel the tension vibrating through him even through the distance between us. He shifts his stance to point his rifle at Cal instead.

“I don’t think any of us wants to shoot,” I say, searching for something to say to defuse this situation. “Why don’t we back away and leave y’all alone?” I glance over at Deck, who gives me a quick nod without looking away from Cal. Encouraged by his agreement, I add, “You get anything you want out of here, and we’ll come back later after you’re done.”

“That sounds good,” the girl says, looking over at Cal as if waiting for him to agree too.

“So get the fuck out of here,” Cal bites out.

Deck, Micah, and I all move backward, still pointing our guns as we retreat.

“You show your face again, I’ll blow your head off,” Cal calls out when we’re almost out of sight.

I groan in relief when we’ve moved behind the building and I can holster my pistol and relax my stance.

“Shit, that was close,” Micah mutters, strapping his rifle back on his back so he can straddle the seat of his ATV. “I thought we were dead for sure. Good going, Lilah.”

I flush at the compliment, but I’m shaking helplessly from the aftermath of the crisis. Before I can move over to get on the seat behind Micah, Deck puts an arm around me and moves me over to his.

I’m too weak to object. I don’t even want to. What Ireally want to do is wrap my arms around Deck and never let go. No one has ever made me feel as safe as he does.

When I’ve climbed on the ATV behind him, I hold on tight, and the three of us drive away.

We wait in the woods for most of the day until we see the pickup truck leave the old drugstore.

By then it’s late afternoon. The sun is halfway down its route in the western sky. But we came all this way, and if we don’t bring back any scavengeable items, then all the time and gas will have been wasted.

So we spend a few hours searching what remains of the store. The exterior and roof are intact, but inside is a ruined mess with toppled shelves, crumbling interior walls, piles of crushed and useless supplies, and unpleasant evidence that wildlife has been setting up shop in the building for the past two years.

If there was any canned food or medication remaining, Cal and the girl cleaned it out earlier today. All three of us root around, Deck and Micah lifting heavy shelves and me squeezing into tight corners, but our search isn’t as productive as we were hoping.

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