Friday, 13 February 2009 - 5:17 pm

Scary

We found a little mall. A portion of the roof had collapsed, letting the orange sky in. Christmas decorations were still bright and sparkly, even when they were crushed under chunks of masonry. It was like walking in a broken-off time warp. If there had been some cheesy Christmas music playing over the wonky speakers, it would have been really creepy.

Ben has been about two feet away from me all day. Every time I look around he’s there, and we exchange a smile and carry on. I giggled like a schoolgirl when he pulled me into a storeroom just so he could kiss me.

I’m sure it’s obvious; I’m sure everyone else must know. No-one has said anything, but then none of us has said anything about Sally and Masterson either, and we all know about that. Does it really matter? I guess not. I feel like I could do anything right now.

 

We found a few useful things here, but not much. The place has been pillaged, but whoever did it isn’t here now. We’ve got more soft drinks to keep us going for a little while, and a few more packets of food. And we’re spending tonight in beds in a department store. Not much privacy, but a lot of comfort.

There were others outside when we got here – just a few stragglers, who ran off as soon as they saw us. I tried not to be upset about that, but I suppose that we probably did look a bit scary. We’re all smeared in concrete dust, harder than stone and paler than death. We’re still here and that makes us walk taller. Today, we feel invincible.

I suppose being scary is better than being scared.

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Saturday, 14 February 2009 - 1:42 pm

Alive

Today has been strange. On one hand, more awful violence. On the other, I feel more hopeful than I have for a long time. I want to get outside, but it’s raining again. I want to run around and hug everyone, but we’re all hurting. 

 

I should start from the beginning. It was this morning, when we were packing ourselves up and scouting for the last bits of useful equipment from the shops here. Dillon came running in, calling for us, shouting that there were people on their way. They were armed, he said.

It seems that those couple of stragglers who tore off yesterday weren’t running for cover: they were running for help. This morning, they came back with a number of friends, enough to match us. And we were spread out across two levels and several stores.

It was a mad scramble to try to get back together. Those of us without any kind of weapon or defence grabbed something nearby; I ended up with a broomhandle. It was light enough to swing easily – that’s not something I ever thought that I would consider when picking up an object. Even Sally picked up a weapon, though she had a rabbit look around her eyes. I didn’t think she’d stick around long if fighting started.

They were in the mall before we could regroup. I told Dillon to find Nugget and hide, to keep her safe. Then it was all about running for the others.

They had a cruel look about them, these attackers, like sharks that can’t help but show their teeth. All young men, they whooped as they swarmed in over the debris of the collapsed ceiling and split up to go for each of us.

One of them grinned when he saw Sally with the stamp of a victim on her. She was closest to me, so I ran over to swing at him. We managed to drive him back, then someone grabbed me from behind. He pinned my arms to my sides, so all I could do was kick. There were so many voices shouting that mine was lost in the din.

My captor let go suddenly and staggered, blood in his hair and down his face. Ben pulled me out of the way and hit him again. We shouted for the other guys. Sax was a short distance away, fending off two of them. I don’t know where the others were.

It was over very quickly. Two of our number were down on the ground, struggling to defend themselves, before the rest of us drove the sharks off. As soon as they lost the upper hand, they turned tail and fled, teeth grinning. Masterson chased after them with a metal pipe in his hand and an unsettling look in his eyes. I think he relished the action a little too much.

 

The sharks laughed on their way to the door. They weren’t bothered by their friends’ injuries, the blood and the bruises; they had enjoyed themselves. A new one stepped inside only to be shoved out again so that they could leave.

I went down onto the bottom floor to send Masterson back up to the others; there were injuries he needed to tend to. He grumbled when he turned to head up there and I should have gone with him. But that new arrival, there was something about him. I had to get close enough to glimpse his face before I realised what that something was. I stopped dead and stared.

Matt. It was my Matt.

 

I called his name, loud enough that he looked around. He saw me and I knew it really was him. My best friend is alive. He’s okay. It felt like my heart was trying to lift me right off my feet.

But the sharks were pushing and dragging him off with them, and he was going. I went to run after them, but arms around my waist from behind stopped me. I shouted at them to let me go, but they didn’t.

It’s too dangerous, Faith. They’ll eat you alive. It’s too dangerous, stop.

 

I don’t care. Matt’s alive. He’s alive and I’m going to find him again.

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Saturday, 14 February 2009 - 3:10 pm

Barricading

I haven’t been able to find him yet. By the time I got Ben and Thorpe to let go of me, the sharks were gone and they had taken Matt with them. I was so angry with the boys that I tore into them, but it was too late to go after them.  That was my best friend. They were right – it was dangerous – but that didn’t mean that I had to like it.

Besides, there were things we needed to tend to. Sax had taken another blow to the head and had a serious concussion. Sally was black and blue all over – I had to force her to show me how bad it was, and then I made the doctor look at her like she’s a patient. Thorpe took a pounding as well and I had to check over his still-healing cuts from the last fight (he doesn’t like Masterson poking at him). 

No-one’s in great shape. I have a split lip and took more than a few hard blows myself. I feel like one big bruise when I stop long enough for the aches to start up. My arm isn’t bothering me for a change – maybe the bone is finally healing.

Masterson said that the injured shouldn’t really be moved – especially Sax. That presented a problem: what if the sharks come back? We have no idea how many little friends they might have, how many of them there might be the next time.

We decided to stay in the mall, but we made the most what we could. We settled the injured in a small store with a back door that we could barricade and a front we think we can defend. We rearranged the shelves and stock to make the most of what space we have. We’re safer together, so we’re all staying close.

 

By the time everything was sorted out, the rain had started, sheeting down in the middle of the building through that hole in the roof. It was early – a couple of hours early, at least. I’m not going anywhere else today.

Ben had that taut look around his eyes again when I said how much I wanted to get out and look for Matt. I had forgotten how easily he gets jealous, so I had to explain to him that Matt was an old friend, that I’d known him since I was a kid. That he’s like family to me. That he’s not an ex-boyfriend, or current boyfriend, or anything like that.

Ben relaxed again – that was what he needed to hear. He’s so touchy, but I suppose ‘we’ are a new thing. We’re still getting to know each other. I told him that meeting my ex wouldn’t be a threat to him anyway, and then I had to explain about Cody, and that was… odd. It wasn’t even hard to talk about Cody and what he did with Bree. Before all of this, his name would stick in my throat as if I’d swallowed it the wrong way around. I didn’t tell Ben about what happened the last time I saw Matt. I’m trying not to think about that too much – I just want to find him again.

It’s funny how the end of the world puts things in perspective. 

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Saturday, 14 February 2009 - 5:06 pm

For those we love

I just realised today’s date. Wow. Valentine’s Day.

I feel like we should do something for that. Not for Ben and me, but for all of the people we love. For those who can’t be here, for the people who matter to us. For all of the dots on our map.

I bet someone here knows a love song or two we can sing.

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Sunday, 15 February 2009 - 10:46 am

Around the opposition

Everyone is on edge today. We can’t go anywhere yet, and that’s fine with me – I want to look for Matt.

I have a lot of opposition. Ben doesn’t like that I still wanted to go after him and Dillon wants me to stay here with the others. Thorpe disapproves too, enough that he said I couldn’t go, and Masterson said I was an idiot. Seeing as none of them can actually stop me, I told them to stick it (except Dillon – I told him I was sorry, but I had to do this).

Now, I have a dilemma. The boys don’t want me to go, and I think if I confront them about it again, they’ll either sit on me or come with me. But the injured need them here, in case the sharks come back. Going on my own isn’t exactly a good idea either, in case I run into the sharks.

I think I’m going to have to, though. I can’t risk any of the others on this. Soon as I’m done here, I’m going to try to sneak out.

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Sunday, 15 February 2009 - 5:39 pm

Finding Matt

Sneaking out didn’t exactly go as planned. The actual sneaking away part wasn’t too bad – I managed to get all the way out of the mall before anyone came looking for me. I waited out there for a few minutes, just along from the door, to see if anyone had spotted my exit.

I was expecting Ben to be the one to follow me out, but it was Dillon who stuck his head outside the mall’s doors. I had to talk him into going back inside, and made him promise not to tell Ben where I’d gone. He was unhappy, but he’s a good kid. He keeps his promises.

Once that was dealt with, I had no idea where I was going. I set off in the direction that I saw the sharks go in, keeping to the walls as much as I could. It was quiet, as if the buildings were all holding their breath, and I went a couple of blocks before I heard anything that sounded like people.

I headed towards it, cautiously, without really having a plan for what I would do when I got there. I just hoped that Matt would be with them, and that they wouldn’t attack me on sight.

As it turned out, he wasn’t. On my way towards the voices, a hand grabbed my arm from out of nowhere. I almost jumped right out of my skin, spinning around and lifting my broomhandle to fend off whoever it was (I wasn’t quite stupid enough to go without a weapon).

“Mac?” He flinched back, but I didn’t hit him. It took me a moment to recognise my own name – no-one has called me that since the bomb went off. Only my friends called me that. And here was one, right in front of me.

I couldn’t help grinning at him. “Matt.”

“Are you crazy? Come on, get out of the street.” He wasn’t grinning.

He ushered me into a nearby building that had had all its windows smashed. We stood behind the curtain that shielded the display mannequins from the rest of the store while the voices neared us. He watched the street tensely, but I couldn’t take my eyes off him. It was really him, he was really here. My Matt, alive and in one piece.

 

It hardly looked like him, standing with hunched shoulders and a scowl. He was always so neatly turned-out before, took real pride in his appearance, and there he was with torn jeans and a stained shirt. Stubble shadowed his jaw. His bleached hair was growing out, turning shaggy, all dark roots and blonde tips. I haven’t seen him without hair gel since we were twelve.

But I’d know his face anywhere, and I’d know those hands of his, the way they moved, even when they clenched uncertainly.

The last time I saw him, he was naked and I was sneaking out of his bedroom. I was so scared that there would be weirdness between us. Now, seeing him again, I tried not to think about that night (and morning). I was just so glad that he wasn’t dead – I’d even take the weirdness and be happy.

The sharks passed by and he relaxed. When he looked at me, I couldn’t help it – I just about jumped on him. I hugged him hard enough to make us both wince and had to apologise when I let go again. I was smiling too brightly to be truly sorry and blinked back tears without too much success.

“What are you doing here?” There was a sign of the softie, in the eyes as damp as mine, though he was trying not to show it.

“Looking for you.”

“You’re insane. Don’t you know what they’ll do to you if they find you?”

“I… yeah.” I shrugged. It was hard to care when he was here and I was fine. “What are you doing here?”

“I was coming to warn you. They’re heading back to the mall.”

“They’re… what?” The smile was gone all of a sudden. The sharks were heading back to the others. “Oh god.”

I was going for the door before I had time to think about it. I had to get back, I had to warn them, help them, anything. Matt grabbed my arm again before I made it out onto the street.

“You’re going back to them?”

“Yeah, of course. They’re my friends.”

He looked at me and let me go. “I’ll take you the back way. Come on.”

We tore off towards the mall, Matt leading me down alleys and right through buildings with broken doors. I could hear the sharks, but he kept me away from actually seeing them. We finally broke into the loading bay of the mall and made our way up a set of access stairs to the first balcony. I couldn’t get across to where the group was holing up – the caved-in roof had taken out the walkway around to that side. Downstairs, the sharks were just starting to dribble into the building.

I could get over to the group, so I opted to make noise instead. I banged my broomhandle on a railing and shouted until the boys came running out. I pointed until their expressions turned grim and they went to meet the sharks at the head of the stairs. Matt hissed at me to be quiet, but I ignored him. A couple of sharks peeled off and tried to get up to where I was, but all of the stairs on that side had been knocked down by the fallen ceiling.

I’ve heard that higher ground was an advantage, but I didn’t realise how much until I saw the fight across the mall. It was so frustrating – I wanted to be over there helping, not wincing in sympathy from such a distance. I caught myself shouting out directions – look out, over there – as that was all I could do. The sharks definitely came off worst this time around – the others drove them off without too many problems.

 

After they were gone, Ben came to the gap in the walkway to call over to me. I told him I was fine, not to worry; he was unconvinced. Matt coming out of hiding behind me didn’t make his expression any more forgiving. I told him we’d make our way over to the other side of the mall and to wait there.

That was easier said than done. Matt took me out another back way, in case the sharks were still lurking around the front, and we wound up having to hide a couple of times while stragglers wandered past. It took a lot longer than it should have.

He found a way into the right part of the mall, and then I had to deal with the where-the-hell-were-yous and what-the-hell-were-you-thinkings. I pointed out that if I hadn’t gone, we might not have had any warning about the attack at all. And Matt had just taken me into a part of the mall where they couldn’t get to me – why don’t we go there in case they decide to come back again?

The injured needed more time to recover, but they were well enough to go that far. So we packed up and followed Matt through the back corridors and alleyways into the cut-off part of the mall. We were just getting settled into a new store when the rain started, and Matt looked uncomfortable, like he had wanted to go once we didn’t need him any more. But now he’s stuck here with us for the night.

Everyone is upset with me right now. Ben’s furious, Dillon looks hurt, Matt isn’t talking at all and the others aren’t saying much of anything. I couldn’t take their looks any more, so I’m sitting on my own at the moment. I suppose I deserve it, but that doesn’t make it easier. 

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Monday, 16 February 2009 - 11:04 am

Repercussions

Ben seems to have taken my words about not bottling things up seriously: he came to see me last night. He demanded to know how he was supposed to protect me if I was going to run off and leave him behind. I told him that I was trying to protect him, that I couldn’t bear to have anything happen to him because of me. He didn’t like it, but this isn’t a one-way thing.

He went quiet and I pushed at it. Maybe I shouldn’t have, but everyone has been having a go at me since I got back. I had to stand up for myself, I had to make them see why. I had to make them forgive me somehow. And I couldn’t do that if he wouldn’t talk to me.

So I told him that I’m fine. They’re the ones who got hurt yesterday, not me. Everything turned out okay. I just had to find Matt. I had to know that he was okay. And he’s not – the more I see him, the more I know it.

It’s different for Ben. He’s had his crewmate here this whole time – he might not always get along with Thorpe, but they have that connection. No-one else in the group has that. We’re all looking for someone, or several someone’s. And Matt’s one of mine. He’s my best friend, and he was a dot on the map.

 

He still didn’t say anything; he just frowned at my hand in his. When I pushed him for a response and he asked me if I was his, if we were together. He held my hand so tightly, even when I said that we were, we are together. I told him that I wasn’t like that and I’d never cheat on him. I knew what that felt like, and I’d never do it, never. I don’t think that that was what he was asking, though.

He said that we couldn’t be together if I was going to run off. Being together meant that he looked after me, and he couldn’t do that if I didn’t let him. I’m not used to that. I’m not used to someone wanting to take care of me like that, someone needing me more than I need them. Ben is so solid that I never thought he might need to be needed too.

There’s something more to this that I didn’t dare get too close to. Something in the way that he mentioned looking after me, something in the way he wanted to protect me. I already felt awful for making him feel like this, and I was trying not to cry. I couldn’t take any more of it. I was shaking inside, waiting for him to give up and tell me to shove it, to tell me that I’d ruined this thing we have. I didn’t want him to go away.

But he didn’t. He asked me to promise not to go off on my own again, and I did it, without hesitation. Then he kissed me and the tension between us turned into heat. I think we both needed that. I don’t know if it really resolved anything, but the arguing is over now and things are calmer between us.

I got a smile out of him this morning. I think – I hope – we’re going to be okay.

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Monday, 16 February 2009 - 5:16 pm

Catching up

I found Matt being questioned by Thorpe and Dillon this morning. Asking about his group – meaning the sharks – and what they’re after. I almost intervened, but I didn’t need to.

“They let me live, but they don’t feed me or anything,” he said. “I’m not one of them. They’ll attack you because they can. They like it. Then they take what they want and leave.” He shrugged, understanding and liking it as little as we did.

As answers went, it seemed to appease the others. From the way he talks about the sharks, ‘letting him live’ doesn’t mean ‘safe’ or ‘untouched’. No-one has said anything about that, but no-one really needs to. I don’t think Dillon quite understands what it means, and that’s a good thing.

 

The differences in Matt are more than skin deep. There’s an easiness missing from him, and the lightly-dropped quips have dried up on his tongue. He doesn’t smile the same way he used to. He used to be the brightest personality in a group, greeting everyone, all smooth exchanges. He had a knack for making everyone feel like a friend right away, for sliding into a situation and making it his own. Now, he’s closed in on himself, trying not to draw anyone’s attention. The way he moves reminds me of Sally.

We caught up today. Swapped stories of what we were doing when it all came down, and what we did after. He was on his way home from a friend’s place when the bomb hit. He tried to carry on towards home at first, but got held up by the need to find food. Then the rain came and the sharks gathered, and it has been too dangerous to go anywhere since.

He didn’t offer details and I didn’t ask. He’s usually an open person, especially with me, so I wasn’t going to push him. I can fill in the blanks enough for myself.

I look at him and see someone who is more taken from than taking. He was always a generous guy, but this is different; this isn’t about giving. This is about power.

He asked about my arm, and I told him a building fell on it. He looked shocked until I explained that it was only a bit of the building and most of it missed me. It’s almost healed now; I can probably take the brace off it soon. He asked about the group as well, and I told him how we found each other. He seemed surprised that we were getting along so well. If only he knew.

 

While Matt and I were talking, Sally came to ask me what we were doing about the food situation – after losing half our supply to the river, we’re running short now. We had checked the other side of the mall – there was still this side to go through.

Matt said he knew where there was some food we could have. He showed us to a hidden cupboard at the back of a sports store where there was more than enough to fill our bags up. I took him aside and asked him if this was his stash, what he’d been living on. He didn’t answer; he just looked at me.

He’s staying with us today. He’s not going to stay here after we go, though. I don’t plan to let him.

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Tuesday, 17 February 2009 - 3:27 pm

A question of motion

Last night, we sang like a group again. It was sad at first, but then we got into old pop songs and laughed trying to remember all of the words. I made Matt sit with us; he didn’t join in, but he listened and he’s here.

 

Today, we thought it was best to stay where we were and give the injured more time to recover. Sax still isn’t steady on his feet, and there’s something… missing. He’s not fighting any more. I thought he hadn’t given up after he found out that his daughter was missing, but maybe he has. Maybe momentum is all that has been carrying him forward, and now that he’s stopped, he won’t start moving again.

I have to make him get up again. I have to make him want something again. I don’t know how – I can’t replace his daughter. Not even Nugget can do that.

 

We took the time to lay the map out and try to figure out how to get across the river. There aren’t any more bridges for miles – we’ll lose days, maybe weeks more if we have to go upriver to the next one. On top of that, there are no guarantees that that one will be safe to cross either.

Thorpe asked if we should forget about trying to get across the river and move on to the next marker on our map. I think that’s the first time I ever saw the big fella and the doctor agree about something (Masterson is usually of the ‘why bother?’ attitude).

I asked which one of them was going to tell Dillon that we weren’t going to look for his family because it was a bit difficult. Neither of them had an answer for me; even Masterson didn’t want to break the kid’s hopes like that. If we can face Stripers and fight off sharks, then we can cross a stupid river. That was the end of that idea.

I’m just glad that Dillon wasn’t there to hear that part of the discussion. He still looks up to Thorpe – I think the kid idolises him. It would have broken his heart.

 

The question of boats came up. There are some around, patiently awaiting the return of dead owners. Most have long since floated away – the rain probably ate through the ropes. Matt said that he had seen some driven up onto the riverbank not too far from the mall; he’s going to show us where they are.

No-one has complained about him being here. They haven’t even asked much about him. Maybe it’s because he found food for us; he didn’t even complain when we stuffed our bags full of it. There’s nothing left there now, nothing for him beyond what he’s carrying.

I suppose that’s true for all of us here.

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Wednesday, 18 February 2009 - 4:03 pm

Nine-tenths

The sharks didn’t bother us again until this morning. It was early – barely light outside, an orange glow eking in through the gaps in the roof. Sally was on watch and rushed in to wake us.

We all piled out of our night’s hideyhole and assembled at the edge of the balcony. The sharks were already inside, but this time they couldn’t get to us; the advantage was on our side for once.

They stopped below us, looking stiff-jawed and angry. One of them was missing his forearm; from the ground-meat look of his elbow, he lost it to the rain. He looked pale and sweaty. One of his more capable cohorts took up the task of talking to us.

“You took somethin’ of ours.”

We looked at each other, wondering what the hell they were talking about. Thorpe was the one who made a guess, hefting his favourite bit of heavy pipe in his hand. “Your pride?”

I had no idea that Thorpe could be funny. I almost laughed in surprise.

Of course, the sharks didn’t think it was funny. “No. Him.” The speaker pointed at Matt, who was standing at the edge of our group, and my stomach tightened. Of course that’s what they were talking about. “We want him back.”

“He doesn’t belong to you.” I couldn’t keep quiet; their attitude and that idea made me angry.

“Actually, he does.” There was something smug about the smile the speaker gave me that I wanted to slap right off his face. I had my broomhandle gripped tight and wished for a second that he would come within reach.

Matt touched my elbow lightly and said, “Mac, I don’t want to cause trouble.” I met his eyes and couldn’t let him do what he was about to. He was trying to hide it, but he looked scared. That knot in my stomach knew that he was scared of them, and not for my sake.

“You’re not,” I told him firmly and turned to face the sharks again. “If he wants to go with you, he can. Otherwise, he’s welcome to stay with us.”

“And if you want to take him, you’re welcome to try.” Again, Thorpe’s words surprised me. I’m not used to his support, especially when I just invited someone to stay with the group without asking any of them. But what was I supposed to do? Just let him go when he didn’t want to? To them?

The sharks eddied about beneath us, growling to each other, as if their feet might chew at the cracks in the floor and undermine us. Then one of them flinched and turned to glare at one of the stretches of balcony. Another small object was launched over and at them – the bobbly head of a doll, taken from the toy store nearby. The sharks shouted, which only prompted a stream of plastic heads, hurled by little hands over the balcony. Dillon and Nugget both had pretty good aim.

Outnumbered, outgunned and with no way up to us, the sharks snarled a few threats and backed off. After a few steps, they turned tail and ran off, arms lifted to fend off the decapitated rain.

 

We all laughed, quietly so they wouldn’t be tempted to turn around again. I glanced at Matt, and he looked unhappy and apprehensive. He’s safe, though, and that’s what matters.

Since then, we’ve been too busy getting our stuff together to move out. Time to go again.

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