I shook my head. “I’m clean.”
He looked back to Claire. She stood still and quiet with the lamp in both hands. They seemed to get lost in each other. A secret.
Someone knocked on the front door. Pounded. Frantic.
“Wait here a minute.” Matthew left the room, Claire followed.
We heard the front door swing open. The man at the door rambled loudly, half-drunk, breathless. “We think it was an ambush. They took out two of our dirt bikes. Must be ten, twenty of them. They killed all our men in the convoy on highway Thirty-One. Four trucks full of men.”
“Did you search the woods?”
“We used the spotlights, yes.”
“I heard a bunch of automatic fire. Was that you searching?”
“We were retaliating.”
“You were scared and wasting bullets.”
“They’re still out there.”
“Get a bigger group. Get some dogs. Go into the woods.”
“A bigger group?”
“If they’re ambushing, we need a big defense.”
“Oh.”
“Get on that search group.”
“Yes, sir.”
Matthew appeared in the doorway. “I guess you heard the boy.”
“Yes,” I said.
“They aren’t looking for twenty men, are they?”
“If they are, they’ll be disappointed.”
“Well. That’s enlightening.”
“You could have told him we were here.”
“You’re ghosts, you know? You slipped through a giant crack. No one knows who you are. No one knows about that,” he pointed to Audrey’s arm. “No one needs to know. They’ll want you dead.”
“And you don’t? They’re coming to you for orders.”
“They think I’m in charge. I’m not. I told them we needed to quarantine ourselves. We were the ones to take charge. They asked me what to do, and I said what I thought. Get rid of the ones who ain’t right in the head. They come and ask me what to do, but they make up their own minds out there. My word ain’t scripture.”
He turned to his wife and waved her over. “Claire, come here a minute.” She stepped forward and set the lamp on the desk. “Raise up them pants. Go on.”
Slowly, the thin woman with the graying brown hair rolled up the hem of her pajamas. Her calf was mostly black. There was a wide hole above the ankle. The wound was coated in lint from her pajamas.
“The fat boy out in the barn did that. The one Georgie shot. Crawled up behind her while she was getting cat food out of the freezer. I figure my main concern is staying with her. Not getting out. Not killing her.”
“Your kids?”
Matthew shook his head. “They don’t know. They’ve turned real mean. They’d kill her if they knew. It’s been a week.”
“Claire?” Audrey whispered. “What’s it like?”
“Like my leg’s asleep. Like I’m waiting for another day.”
Claire unrolled her pajamas and took the lamp from the table.
“I am cold. Though I think everyone is nowadays. The lamp keeps me warm.”
I nodded. “We would like to be on our way. We’re keeping you from being with your wife. Your family.”
He nodded. “I don’t mind it. It’s funny in a way.”
I didn’t think any of it was funny.
“You two stay here tonight. We’ll make you some food and you can leave in the morning. Or you can leave tonight. But you have to eat.”
Matthew grunted as he pushed himself away from the desk. He and Claire went to the kitchen. Stopping by a door, he pointed to it. “This is the bathroom for you. We still got water. If you want a hot bath, you’ll have to heat some water on the stove first.”
Claire and Matthew went to work lighting an ancient wood stove, measuring out flour and sugar, and carrying in trays of food from a snowdrift outside. Audrey and I rested on the bed, squeezing our heads together on the tiny pillow.
“You ought to take a bath later.”
“You don’t smell so great yourself,” she jabbed my ribs.
“It’ll make you feel better. We need to clean that wound.”
“I’d like that. But…”
“But?”
“I can’t move my arm much. It feels asleep like Claire said. But it burns.”
“I’ll help you.”
Claire and Matthew brought us two steaming plates of pork and cornbread with strawberry jam and a puddle of butter.
“We’ll need some water put on while you’ve got the stove hot.”
Claire backed out of the room. “I’ll put on two pots. The water’s awful cold.”
“Thank you,” Audrey said. “For the food, too.”
Matthew had a cup of coffee. He stared into it as he leaned against the counter.
“You happen to have any more ammunition for that Winchester?” I asked.
“I do. I’d be happy to give it to you,” he swirled the coffee mug.
“I’d be happy to barter for it. I don’t expect it free.”
“We do plenty of raids. We don’t need to trade. I’ll set you up with those nine-millimeters and the Remington, too.”
“How long did you plan to keep the county quarantined?”
“Until one side wins. We don’t have a plan.”
“What about food?”
“Everyone for themselves.”
“Just give up the barricades. Let it go.”
Matthew nodded. “They think they’re keeping it out. One crew goes around putting up fences. Another crew is in charge of a containment area. Another patrols the county roads. Lots of crews. A job for everyone. Most of these people haven’t felt half this useful their entire lives. People want to work.”
“What do they do when they find someone who’s been infected?”
“Shoot them.”
“All of them?”
“If they’re infected, yes.”
“Just out on the streets.”
“Partly.”
“Partly?”
“Some in houses.”
“They’re going in houses?”
“Of course. They take a bus and load it up with people who might be infected, drive them to the high school.”
“Why the high school?”
“It’s big. The football field holds lots of people.”
“You’re penning up people who might be infected?”
“They don’t take chances. If they picked up you two, you’d wind up there,” he pointed at me. “Her bit the way she is and you with her. They’d just as soon kill you to be safe.” He gulped the remainder of his coffee and dropped the cup in the sink. He stepped into the doorway. “I’ll get you that ammunition. Give you a fighting chance.” He wandered out of the kitchen and Claire took his place.
“I believe your water’s about ready,” Claire said.
AUDREY CLOSED HER EYES as I ran the warm water over her head, rinsing the dingy suds from her hair. Her hand, arm, and part of her shoulder had turned light purple. Pressing against the wound with the rag, it oozed a black ribbon that bobbed like thread in the water.
I was sad to see her naked. To bathe her. The body is a strange thing. Her breasts, hips, smooth and flawless skin. Just flesh. It is a revelation of life when the body loses its sensuality.
“What do you think of death?”
“What?”
“About all this. Those people aren’t alive, but they’re walking.”
“They’re dead inside. They don’t breathe. They don’t think.”
“They seem instinctual. Like they want to eat. It’s very animalistic.”
“They’re just wandering.”
She stood up, took a towel from the lacquered shelf and crimped her hair. She wrapped herself in the towel and leaned into me. We stood for several minutes in the flickering candlelight, glad to have each other. I helped her put on her bra and shirt. Then, I helped button her pants. She smelled like the bar soap. Faintly of roses but mostly lye.