Sudden Independents

“It’s not good,” Luis said from an open closet across the room. “But it’s to be expected in your current condition.”

Luis rolled a metal table over with a squeaky wheel. Silver knives, needles, vials and a clear plastic tube rested on top. He nodded Jimmy’s way. “Don’t worry, everything is sterile.”

“Yeah, that’s my number-one worry right now.” Jimmy closed his eyes again. “Let’s do this thing.”

“Ginger, hold his arm up and keep it there.”

Ginger gripped Jimmy’s wrist firmly. Something cold and wet brushed against his side.

“That tickles.”

“I’m killing germs by swabbing iodine around the area where I’ll make the incision.”

The word incision made Jimmy shudder. A moment later, he heard clothes being wrestled on. When he heard snapping, he had to look. Luis was wrapped head to toe in baby blue with a mask over his mouth and a blue cap on his head. A clean pair of rubber gloves covered his hands. The young doctor inserted a long needle into a glass bottle and filled the syringe with a clear liquid. Jimmy clamped his eyes shut.

“This will numb the pain,” Luis said. “It’s going to sting for a second.”

The shot stung like a fifty-pound hornet-and did little to numb the pain that followed.

Scout knew they were too late as he followed Hunter across the field to the farmhouse. The incapacitated truck and knocked-over motorbikes still lined the northern wall. The backdoor hung open. The kids they were after had scuttled out and were gone.

They rode up to the vehicles and dismounted. Scout and Hunter walked with the heads down and studied the ground, following different sets of tire tracks that led from the house.

Scout pointed. “These look the freshest. They’re also the only ones heading away from Independents.”

“Nobody’s here,” Samuel reported coming out of the house. “What now?”

Hunter said, “Get back behind the wheel. We’re going to follow these tracks. We’ll probably make sudden stops if we lose the trail. Don’t run us over.”

The tracks led off to the south towards the Kansas state line. Scout shook his head. “There’s no way this group came from Iowa.”

“Too bad your sister couldn’t get anything out of Jolanda.”

Scout eyed the growing wall of heavy clouds. The temperature was dropping rapidly as a cold wind pushed ahead of the storm, clearing out a path with the promise of snow in the air. “We better find them quick or there won’t be any tracks to follow.”

“Let’s go already!” Mark yelled, leaning through the window and pounding his hand on the door of the SUV. “We’re wasting time here!”

Scout shrugged at Hunter, who frowned and revved up his bike. They each took a tread of the trail and followed it away from the empty farmhouse.

The trail was easy to spot where it mashed down the high prairie grass, continuing south for several miles. They arrived at an old, forgotten highway with a white and black sign marked US 36. Potholes and cracks covered the gray asphalt in both directions. The trail turned west, running parallel to the highway.

Scout didn’t hesitate. He turned with his groove and headed west.

Hunter pulled up beside him and hollered over the noise of their engines. “We followed this highway before, remember?”

“Yeah, but that was a while ago.”

“Remember how it goes through a town every ten miles or so? Lots of good places for another ambush.”

“Then we’ll have to play it safe and stay sharp when we pass through them, but I doubt they’re stopping for anything. They got to figure we’re coming after them.”

The hidden sun left Scout without any clues to the time of day. The miles passed quickly with the flat ground providing a smooth ride next to the broken road.

Roads were reminders of the ruined world that no longer functioned. People, or rather the surviving kids, didn’t function the same way either because they were also broken, cracked and filled with holes. Molly was the leading example, but Scout knew a lot of kids suffered. You either dealt with it or you exploded from the pressure building up over time. Molly had popped her top like a Roman candle.

Scout refocused his attention when they approached the first town. His fingers tapped the brake and Hunter slowed next to him. The wind blew dust and half a dozen tumbleweeds through the empty streets ahead. This place could have been Independents, instead of a lifeless ruin. Its Main Street buildings stood dull and forgotten. Sometime ago, a roof had collapsed and reduced one building to rubble.

Scout tucked his stocking mask into his collar. “What do you think?”

Hunter removed his goggles, snorted and spat with the wind. “A bulldozer would make this place look real nice.”

“Are you worried about an ambush?”

“No, this town is dead.”

Behind them the SUVs rolled closer and stopped. “What’s the discussion? We’re losing daylight!” Mark yelled.

Hunter responded. “Give us a break! We’re not sitting in front of a heater!”

Scout lowered his head.

The passenger door flew open and Mark leapt out. Hunter hopped off his bike and Scout did too, knowing he would have to buffer the situation.