That completely woke Trev up, and he sat up listening wild-eyed for any sounds on the stairs or in the other room beside his friend’s soft snoring. He didn’t hear anything, but that wasn’t enough so he got up and padded to the stairs, climbing them to the door and listening at it, then opening it quietly and checking the house’s entryway. The door creaked slightly, which was a bit of a relief since he thought he’d hear that if anyone tried to come downstairs.
The image of the poor looter being savagely beaten to death wouldn’t leave his mind as he got back in his sleeping bag, and he half wondered if they shouldn’t start sleeping in shifts. But he was too exhausted at the moment and this was a relatively safe place. It was something to consider if they had to spend a night somewhere more exposed, though.
His last thought as he fell asleep was to wonder if Matt had locked the front door.
Chapter Thirteen
Antelope Island
A quick search of the house high and low the next morning confirmed it was abandoned.
In spite of the disarray in the master bedroom and the room where Matt’s nephews had slept it didn’t look like they’d been ransacked, more like hurried packing. They also discovered that like the bathroom in the basement all the other bathtubs and sinks in the house were stopped, and a few even had some water left in them.
That all pointed to April’s family heading to the refugee camp like they’d assumed, which meant there wasn’t anything left to do in Midvale. They refilled their water bottles and drank as much as possible one last time, and after that Matt decided to do one last tour of the house, even checking the attic, before leaving. Last of all they poked around the yard to see if anything stood out.
Matt sat down on one of the tiny swings on the little swing set, looking tired. Trev wondered if he’d slept poorly too, or maybe was really starting to feel the hunger. Trev certainly was: this morning his gut felt like it was eating a hole through his belly, a constant gnawing pain that seemed to get worse and worse.
His friend spoke up. “If it’s like the roadblock down in Spanish Fork, if hoarding more than two weeks’ worth of food is now a crime, then my sister and her husband were definitely guilty. FETF will have confiscated it just like the police did with our food. After that they wouldn’t have had much choice but to go to the FETF camp or try to make their way south and we didn’t see them on the road. Which doesn’t necessarily mean they hadn’t been there, but it’s obvious our next move is to head to Antelope Island and check it just to be sure.”
Trev nodded. “At that point if we haven’t found April’s family then all the possibilities I can think of will be exhausted. Our best bet will be to head back home and pray to find them there.”
“Right.” Matt stood, and after one last look around the yard started for the gate. “Is the island a peninsula right now? If so it’s probably around 30 to 40 miles to reach it. Otherwise we’ll have to take the long way around to get there by the causeway in Syracuse, almost double the distance.”
Trev frowned as he followed his friend. He hadn’t considered that. “If they’ve set up a refugee camp big enough to take in people from the entire Salt Lake Valley it’s hard to believe the causeway would be enough to handle the incoming traffic. The water level has to be low enough to make it a peninsula.”
“Fingers crossed. If it’s not too deep we could probably wade it anyway.”
They carefully checked the street before hurrying through the gate and making for the nearest source of cover. After what he’d seen last night Trev was eager to get out of Midvale. But at the neatly trimmed hedge that followed the driveway down to the street his friend ducked low and stopped, forcing him to stop as well.
“I just want to make sure we’re clear on where we’re going,” Matt said in a low voice. “Do we make our way back to I-15 and follow it north as far as we can before cutting west to Antelope Island, or take the more direct route northwest through West Valley City and part of SLC?”
“The Interstate,” Trev answered immediately. “Even if it’s the longer route I don’t want to go through the cities any more than we have to. Not after last night. And following the highway we might find a FETF presence directing refugees all the way to Antelope Island, which means the same sort of protection we’d find on the Interstate itself.”
His friend looked relieved as he continued down the hedge. “I’m glad we agree because the highway definitely gets my vote. You were right about the cities being like a war zone.”
Trev nodded, following. “The military presence along the highway is actually a relief. Those evacuating refugees would be getting picked apart like a savannah carcass if someone wasn’t around to protect them.”
“I’m just worried about what happens to them when they get out of the cities, away from FETF protection,” Matt mused, pausing at the end of the driveway to look around again before leading the way to the next source of cover. “Especially if their guns are being confiscated by overzealous law enforcement. I bet highway banditry is going to run rampant.”
“I bet it already is. That’s something we’re going to have to worry about more on our way south with your family. Especially now that our guns are gone.”
His friend gave him an irritated look, and Trev wondered if he wasn’t needling him too much about what had happened at the roadblock. He was still pissed about losing his 1911, but stupid as Matt’s idea to approach it directly had been he was also partially to blame for going along.
But Matt let the issue drop. “Should we forage as we go?” he asked. “I can’t remember ever being this hungry. My head’s killing me.”
Trev hesitated, really tempted by the suggestion, but after only a moment he shook his head. “We wouldn’t find food easily and searching would just put us in danger. Besides, it’s only been about thirty-seven hours or so. Even though we spent most of those hours either walking or sleeping and used up a lot of energy we should still be able to go a bit farther. If we can reach Antelope Island they should have food for us.”
“I hope,” his friend muttered. “What if they’re in as bad shape as everywhere else?”
Trev didn’t have any answers. “Let’s go. I’d rather be walking towards our goal than talking about how hungry I am.”
In a way making their way through the city in daylight was twice as hair raising as it had been last night. Trev felt exposed every time they left cover, and found himself running to get out of the open, expecting to hear gunshots or feel a bullet in him at any moment. Twice they did hear gunshots, although thankfully nowhere near them, and on one occasion they had to swing wide around a block where a large group of looters, possibly the people from the school, were breaking into the evacuated houses and trashing them as they searched for anything of value.
The only upside he could think of was that at least it was light enough to see clearly. No jumping at shadows like they had last night, wondering if any shape sticking out from a tree or bush might be an enemy.
In spite of their hunger the night’s rest had done them a lot of good, and even moving cautiously they were able to reach I-15 in good time. It seemed odd to be moving openly around so many people after the terror of going through the “populated” areas, but in spite of Trev’s wariness around law enforcement and FETF soldiers it was actually a relief to have them around keeping the peace.
He noticed that Matt kept trying to speed up their pace, either in a hurry to find his family or hoping for that meal Trev had guessed at. Trev had to keep telling him to slow down, reminding him that it took less time to move a bit slower than to have to take frequent breaks. His friend grumbled a bit, but he slowed down whenever Trev mentioned it. Either way they were still outpacing everyone on the road aside from the patrols.