He didn’t speak as he gathered up the weapons, then the ammo, then the silver from the cases around the department stores. Maddie didn’t seem to mind the silence, and Bobby, well, he was Bobby.
They amassed an impressive amount of silver within the hour — two baskets full of cutlery, pens, ornaments, candleholders, and things Blaine didn’t even know came in silver. Maddie seemed to be able to pick out the real silver from the fake easily enough, but Blaine had to take a second and sometimes a third look just to make sure.
By the time they were done, it was almost noon, and Bobby came down from the roof with his weapons and a backpack stuffed with food and water. He climbed in, squeezing wordlessly between the crates of silver and weapons latched onto the back of the Jeep with bungee cords.
Maddie slipped behind the wheel and tossed a quick look back at Bobby. “How you doing back there?”
Bobby gave her the “OK” with his fingers.
“How about you?” she asked Blaine.
“Okay,” he said.
“Up I-10 and into Louisiana, right?”
“Straight shot, yeah.”
“Keep an eye out for Mason. That asshole’s out there somewhere. I wouldn’t be surprised if he tried to take a pot shot at us somewhere along the way.”
Blaine had the Remington in his lap. He checked to make sure it was loaded, then gave her a nod.
“Okay, then,” she said. “Let’s get outta here.”
She turned the engine and the Jeep hummed to life without a problem. Maddie drove through the parking lot. Blaine expected to hear gunfire at any second — Mason, hidden somewhere out there, getting in one last goodbye before it was too late.
But there was nothing except the quiet purr of the Jeep as Maddie maneuvered them out of the Willowstone Mall parking lot and onto the feeder road. They were on their way, and Blaine couldn’t help but wonder what Sandra would say right about now. Probably something positive, something to lift their spirits. Maybe a joke, or a smile. All it usually took was a smile from her.
“Don’t stop. Don’t ever stop…”
Eventually, they stopped at a Shell gas station in the Louisiana city of Salvani, hoping to grab some food and drinks. It was 3:13 p.m., and they had made good progress out of Texas and into Louisiana. It took them longer than Blaine would have liked, but slow and steady meant no disasters on the road. He knew all about disasters on the road.
Sandra did, too.
He spent the entire drive trying to decide whether he could go on without her. She had told him she wanted him to, but he hadn’t made any promises. He couldn’t make any promises. Every now and then he sneaked a glance at Maddie behind the wheel, and Bobby in the back, his face turned into the wind.
They’re so young…
This was all because of him, he realized. He had introduced the idea of Song Island to Maddie. He was the one who had convinced her to betray Mason. Without him, Maddie and Bobby would be blissfully moving on with their lives in the mall. So what did that mean?
They were his responsibility. It was his fault they were here. Could he just abandon them now?
“Go to Song Island. Take Maddie and Bobby. Go to Song Island and try to be happy. If you love me — if you care about me — you’ll keep going.”
He didn’t know if he could be happy without Sandra, but he could at least take Maddie and Bobby to Song Island. He owed them that much. After that? He didn’t know. It was a big world still, and it wasn’t likely it was going to miss him.
Song Island first…
They found what they needed either in the pungent-smelling freezers in the back of the Shell or scattered along the floors. A couple of bottles of warm Gatorade, another three bottles of Powerade, and some boxes of snacks the rats and animals hadn’t gone through yet. From the looks of the footprints in the well-tread aisles, there had been plenty of creatures big and small looking over the Shell’s shelves in the past eight months.
Blaine looked up when he heard the chime over the front door jingle as Maddie came in.
“Anything?” he asked.
“Town’s dead. Big surprise.” She pulled a folded map out of her back pocket. “I did find a map of the area, though. You find anything good?”
“Drinks, junk food, the usual.”
Bobby came out from the back with BBQ-flavored Pringles he was popping into his mouth from a can. Blaine thought with some amusement that this was the most sound he had ever heard come out of Bobby’s mouth.
Maddie sat down on an ice cream freezer near the window. She looked tired as she fixed him with a querying look. “Still Song Island or bust, right?”
She’s still worried. Afraid I’ll off myself when she’s not looking.
Maybe she’s not so wrong…
“Unless you’ve changed your mind,” he nodded.
“Got nowhere else to go. No job interviews or anything.” Maddie looked over at Bobby. “How about you? You think we should turn back now or keep going to Song Island?”
Bobby gave her a thumbs up without hesitation.
“He’s good to go,” Maddie said.
Blaine picked up the bag of drinks and took out a warm blue bottle of Powerade and tossed it over to Maddie.
“Ugh. Warm Powerade,” she said.
“Better than warm nothing.”
“Just barely—” she started to say, but was interrupted by the familiar drone of car engines coming down the road outside. “Down!”
Maddie dropped behind the big ice cream freezer while Blaine went down behind the counter. He looked out the window and saw a black Toyota Tacoma truck racing down Ruth Street, swerving around an old red pickup sitting half on the curb and half on the road. Blaine caught a glimpse of two guys in the front seat and shadows in the back, though he couldn’t be sure if they were more guys or supplies.
His eyes darted to their Jeep parked outside the front door of the Shell. If the Tacoma had been moving slower and someone had bothered to look in their direction, they might have noticed the Jeep. It was hard to miss, with the big pile of crates in the back. Fortunately there were two big gas pumps between the Jeep and the road, so even if someone had looked over, there was a chance their view might have been slightly obstructed.
The Tacoma kept going, disappearing down the road.
I guess they didn’t see us.
He was about to stand back up when two more trucks appeared off the I-10 feeder — a white Ford F-150 and a silver Chevy Silverado, similar to the one he and Sandra had entered Beaumont in. For a second, he thought it might be the same truck, but as the Silverado flashed by, he saw white stripes along the side. He glimpsed two men in the front seat of the truck. He was so focused on the Silverado that by the time the F-150 went by, it was just a white blur.
For a moment Blaine thought the last two cars were chasing the first one, but he soon concluded that wasn’t the case. They were together. Or at least, going in the same direction. He watched them disappear down Ruth Street, the sound of their engines lingering in the air for a long time. They could still hear the trucks for minutes afterward.
He stood up from behind the counter and exchanged a look with Maddie.
“More survivors headed to Song Island?” she asked.
“Has to be. What else is down there?”
“How many you figure were in those three trucks?”
“I saw two in the front seats of the Tacoma, two more in the front seats of the Silverado, but I didn’t catch the F-150.”