The Girl in Red

Unfortunately, that meant that she’d never outgrown her childish relationship with them, never established herself as an independent adult. And so Mama persisted in thinking Red was, well . . . if not helpless, then certainly not entirely capable. Never mind that Red did most everything around the house and ran almost all the errands, too, and all while maintaining a 3.8 GPA. Not that her GPA would ever mean anything again, she realized. Nobody needed a good GPA when the world was ending—or if not ending, then at least changing beyond all recognition.

So the two of them narrowed their eyes at each other across the table because one of them believed Red was still a baby and the other knew she wasn’t.

“Enough with the deep freeze, you two,” Dad said, frowning. “Whether or not Red can make the journey is irrelevant.”

“I can—” Red began, but Dad held up his hand.

“It doesn’t matter if you can, because you’ll have to. And so will I, and your mother, and Adam. And one thing Delia’s right about, Shirley—she’s in better shape than any of us for a long walk.”

Mama cut her eyes away from Red and to her father in a way that made Red think there would be more Words later on the subject in the privacy of their bedroom. And sure enough, late that night, Red heard the rolling music of their argument from the room down the hall, the way their voices rose in frustration and then hushed again when they realized they were getting too loud.

•   •   •

So it was decided that they would walk, but nobody was as prepared as Red was to leave, and so it was also decided (over Red’s strenuous objections, because she wanted to go now that going had been decided upon) that they would depart three days from that first family meeting. In the meantime, Mama started coughing.

Red knew exactly when it happened, when her mama got sick, almost down to the minute. There was plenty of food—mostly in cans, but other shelf-stable things like granola bars and whatnot— in the pantry. Living outside of town instead of in it meant that they kept their house better-stocked than most—you never knew when a snowstorm might keep you from the grocery store for a few days.

They also had plenty of that most precious of emergency resources, bottled water, for the same reason. But what they—meaning Red’s mother and father—did not have was appropriate footwear or clothing for such a long hike.

When Red and Adam were young, Mama had occasionally gone camping with them, but she’d given it up by the time Red was ten. And while Dad still enjoyed a walk in the woods, he usually wore sneakers while doing it and it had been quite a while since he’d carried a pack full of gear. They both needed sturdy waterproof boots and rain shells and sleeping bags. There was a sporting goods store in town that carried all of those things, and so it was proposed that they take a trip to acquire them.

“No way,” Red said, when Dad announced that they were all piling into the car for this purpose.

Dad just looked at her with that patient way that he had, and waited for the explanation.

“As Adam pointed out yesterday, more than half the stores were closed last time he was in town—what, two weeks ago?” Red said. “That means there’s been an outbreak here too—we’ve just been lucky enough to avoid it. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go into population centers unless we absolutely have to.”

“I can’t hike in my sensible three-inch heels, Delia,” Mama said.

“Well, you shouldn’t start such a long walk wearing shoes you haven’t broken in, either,” Red said. “You were worried about me getting blisters. If you try to hike three hundred miles in new hiking boots you will definitely get blisters.”

“Okay, fair point,” Dad said. “But we still need sleeping bags and rain gear and packs to carry it all in.”

“What about your old stuff?” Red asked. “Isn’t it in the attic?”

“We sold all that on Craigslist a few years ago,” Mama said. “It was just taking up space in there.”

Red refrained from asking why they had sold useful things, like camping gear, but left so much random crap (like her little red wagon from childhood and three different models of lawn mowers, only one of which actually worked) in the shed outside. That wasn’t the point, really. The point was to keep them away from town. If they went into town they might be infected.

“The whole point and purpose of this plan is to avoid large groups of people and places where there might be infection,” Red said.

“I understand what you’re saying, Red, but we’re not remotely prepared for this. We aren’t like you,” Dad said. “We aren’t even like Adam, who at least has camping gear.”

“What if there are government soldiers there?” Red said. “Sweeping the area for survivors to take to one of their quarantine points?”

“So what?” Adam said. “Then we go to the quarantine. I’d rather go to a camp than on this loony trip through the woods to Grandma’s house, anyway.”