“Gotcha,” Matt whispered quietly, patting his shoulder for further confirmation. Trev nodded and continued forward.
He’d learned his lesson from sticking to backyards when they’d encountered the dog yesterday, so this time he followed the front yards along the street, doing his best to stick to cover and dashing across any open spaces after careful checks to make sure nobody was around. In spite of his care he kept them at the best pace he could, for once pushing through fatigue in favor of speed: he wanted to make it to April’s house before dark since having to use flashlights would draw unwanted attention.
For the moment his biggest worry was intersections, since they’d have to be out in the open for longer and would be visible to prying eyes in several directions at once. At the first one they reached he carefully checked the streets to the left and right for any signs of movement, then tapped Matt’s shoulder and whispered “You check right, I’ll check left. Go fast and be ready to bolt at the first sign of trouble.”
His friend nodded and Trev came to his feet and started across the pavement at a lope, making for the fence of the large house on the other side with Matt hard on his heels. They were halfway across the intersection when his friend abruptly stopped, staring down the righthand street. “Oh no.”
Trev immediately bolted for cover, reaching for his bear spray. He’d only gone a couple steps before realizing that Matt hadn’t moved and didn’t look afraid, so he slowed to see what had caught his friend’s attention.
He saw it immediately. Down that street the bodies of several dogs were scattered across front lawns and sidewalks, lying in pools of blood or with bloody trails from where they’d tried to drag themselves to safety. Their fur was matted and stained red, and from the injuries Trev could tell that the poor creatures been gunned down in passing, probably with an automatic weapon.
Matt stared at the sight, looking a little sick. “I’ve heard about this,” he said quietly. “In a disaster people can’t feed their pets, but they don’t have the heart to put them down either so they set them free. The dogs can’t survive on their own and form feral packs that attack any humans they encounter, so they have to be put down on sight.”
Trev nodded. “Probably FETF or law enforcement.” Sad as it was to see so many once faithful pets slaughtered and left to rot, he couldn’t really fault whoever had done it. The last thing he wanted was to run into a pack of starving dogs, especially not once they started traveling with Matt’s young nephews, who’d be especially vulnerable to animal attacks.
His friend abruptly shuddered and hurriedly finished crossing the intersection. As he went he pulled out his bear spray, holding it ready, and Trev was quick to do the same. Just in case the pack had been larger than those eight dogs and some had escaped and might still be lurking around.
“I hate what’s happened to the world,” Matt muttered as they continued on, glaring around warily for signs of danger.
“Just think of home,” Trev advised, although he had to admit he felt the same at the moment. He couldn’t wait to find Matt’s family and get far, far away from the cities.
By either luck, carefulness, or maybe because the area was deserted, they managed to make it ten blocks without even seeing anyone. Just as the sun set behind them they crossed another intersection to a block where all the houses had several papers taped to their front doors, and in spite of his caution and desire for haste Trev crossed over to the nearest house to read one. They were all white printer paper bearing the same single sentence in large font:
“THIS RESIDENCE HAS BEEN EVACUATED TO THE ANTELOPE ISLAND FEDERAL EMERGENCY TASK FORCE CAMP.”
Trev flicked the paper, snorting. “Fantastic. They might as well have put up a sign that says “Hey! Come loot these houses!”
His friend ignored his dark humor. “It sure looks like April and Terry got taken there,” he mused, still staring at the notice. “But I still think we should check their house out just to be safe.”
“Well duh, we’re staying the night there anyway aren’t we?”
Matt opened his mouth to answer, but before he could the sharp crack of a nearby gunshot spun them both around. It was coming from a few streets over by the sound of it, but as more shots shattered the silence Trev bolted for the nearest cover in the opposite direction, his friend hard on his heels. He dove behind the concrete wall encircling the house and crawled on his elbows along it, staying behind its cover until the two-storey building was between him and the source of the gunshots.
As soon as he was sure he was covered he pushed to his feet and bolted across the yard to vault the fence into the backyard of the house behind it, where he ducked down against the wall and sank into a sitting position with his back against it, panting.
Matt sank down beside him a few seconds later. “I don’t know if that was close but it scared me half to death,” he whispered.
“Me too.” Trev sucked in a couple more breaths, fighting hard to calm himself. “You know what would be great to have right now? My 1911.”
“Dude, seriously?” his friend demanded. “You want to go into that again here? Are you ever going to let it go?”
“Sure. When I get my head blown off by someone I can’t defend myself against.” Before his friend could think of a comeback Trev pushed up into a crouch and made his way cautiously across the backyard, looking around to make sure there were no threats in sight. When he reached the house he hugged the wall around to the front yard, where he stopped and turned to his friend. “We still going the right way?”
“Yeah.” Matt started forward, taking the lead, and Trev obediently followed.
They went another mile like that, as the light around them quickly faded to the point where visibility was starting to be a problem. About this time the street lamps should’ve come on, and it felt weird to be walking along without their light. Weird and definitely inconvenient, although Trev guessed they’d still manage to get where they were going before it became too dark to see.
After another block the street they were following reached an elementary school, looming undamaged and silent in the darkness. The intersection in front of it was mostly blocked by the burned, blackened husk of a tipped over truck.
“That’s a FETF truck,” Matt said in a low voice, staring at the gutted wreck. Trev nodded. Today they’d seen their first moving vehicle in a long time, driving north fast along the left lane of the highway blaring its horn to get people to clear the way. An undamaged version of this one. His friend continued. “Do you think that was an accident or were they attacked by rioters?”
Before Trev could answer he saw movement in the back of the truck, and he froze and slowly ducked back behind the bushes they’d taken cover behind, peeking his head down low to see beneath the branches. A moment later a grimy, soot-stained figure in a hoody and jeans dropped down onto the street, clutching a garbage bag full of who knew what gleaned from the burned remains of whatever supplies the truck had held. The figure looked around furtively, then darted towards the nearest cover against the elementary school’s wall.
Before he reached it a chorus of howls rose from the direction he was running and half a dozen people burst through the school’s front door, pinning the scavenger with flashlight beams. The figure froze like a deer caught in the headlights, and Trev caught a glimpse of a pale, dirty face beneath the hood. Then the would-be looter turned and sprinted the other way, clutching the garbage bag to his chest.