6. Wilder
Chapter six
Wilder
O nly two other apartments on the third floor were open, both doors left ajar. On high alert as I cleared them, the fine hairs on the back of my neck stood on end until I was confident we were alone. Messy compared with the last apartment, it had bachelor pad written all over it. As I adjusted my stupid slipper, Rosie walked out of the only bedroom with a pile of men’s clothing.
“We need food, not clothes,” I told her, unable to even see her eyes over the stack.
“You can’t wear that forever.”
She wasn’t wrong. In fact, there came a point where wearing it made me more of a target. People saw the uniform and they made assumptions. That I had backup. That I knew where food was. That I could help them. Unfortunately for all of us, I didn’t know any of that shit.
“I think this stuff might fit you, that’s why I grabbed it.”
My stomach squeezed at her thoughtfulness, my fingers brushing hers as I accepted the clothing from her arms. The brands and styles weren’t that far from my own clothing.
“Why don’t you check the pantry?” I suggested.
Setting the stack on the edge of the counter, I walked to the rain-streaked window and looked out at the empty street. Litter blocked some of the storm drains, causing deep puddles to stretch from curb to curb. This would be a total mess later in the season. What about in the winter when feet of snow fell and later thawed? The roads wouldn’t be passable.
“So, I was thinking,” Rosie said, her voice slightly muffled as she faced the small kitchen pantry. “Now that I’m feeling a little stronger, and once we get your blisters healed up, we should get out of the city. I know you said I was in no state to travel, but I am feeling better now.”
I couldn’t leave the city yet. Why was Rosie so hell bent on getting a move on? She passed out for god’s sake.
“And I’m not asking you to, like, take me under your wing or anything. But if we could get from a to b together…I think that would benefit both of us.” She sounded slightly nervous, stumbling over her words like she’s been thinking of how to say it all morning.
“Look, Rosie, there’s something I have to do first…”
Movement in the street caught my eye, a group of the undead wandering right through all the puddles. The water splashed up around their feet. One was barefoot, impervious to the icy water and rough concrete. Maybe Rosie was right. These things weren’t going anywhere, and the idea of sitting like a lame duck in the centre of it all felt unsettling at best. But what if Addams was somewhere close by? There was a possibility he’d injured himself and had no way to find me.
With my eyes glued to the procession of feet, my heart sank when I saw the familiar military issue boots. I forced myself to look up but closed my eyes the moment I saw that the rain-soaked camouflage matched my own. My throat ached as I took another glance, making out a blood-soaked right arm in his slightly baggy uniform. The bite would have burned like it had been done with a branding iron. A row of human teeth marks that may as well have been a D shaped brand. Dead. I should take him out. I owed him that. If I ever turned into one of those things…he’d do the same for me. But gunshots made a hell of a lot of noise. The last thing Rosie or I needed was a group like that doing a course correction for our lobby. Worse, the sound of gunfire would only alert any people in the area that somebody had supplies.
“Wilder? Did you hear what I said?”
I was only vaguely aware of Rosie’s voice, and when her hand brushed my shoulder, I startled, hand going automatically to my weapon. Fear flashed in her eyes as she stepped back, out of my reach.
“I’m sorry,” I said, dropping my hands to my sides.
She shrugged but hurt laced her voice. “It’s fine.”
“It’s just that I saw…”
I didn’t know how to say it. I didn’t want to.
She took a step closer, and I could read her facial expressions like a book. Terror when she first noticed the group of a dozen mindless creatures. Surprise when she saw the camouflage. Sorrow when she put it all together.
“Oh, Wilder.” Rosie held her arms open, but I hesitated, shaking my head as my eyes burned with unshed tears. Addams died a painful, frightening death, but I could stand up here dry and warm and in the arms of a beautiful woman? I sniffed, wiping the back of my hand across my nose. That wasn’t fair. I walked away from her offer of embrace like an asshole.
“We’d better finish up here and move onto the next place. We’re losing the daylight.”
I could hear her sigh even from across the room.
…
Our cereal stash grew by several boxes, and we also found some pancake mix and syrup. I perused the space, a dark cloud over my head while Rosie sifted through the shelves for anything non-perishable. I paused in front of the stainless steel fridge, glancing at the magnets and the photos beneath them. Pulling one down, I traced the edges of the rectangle with my thumb. It was a Banff National Park magnet, a painting of a jagged snow capped mountain with a turquoise glacier-fed lake in the forefront.
“Huh.”
“Find something?”
“Maybe,” I said and slid the magnet into my chest pocket. I thought of the pile of clothes. The outdoors brands and cargo pants, the collection of magnets with different national and provincial parks. This apartment might have more to offer than pancakes and syrup. A single guy that wore that type of clothing and had visited all those wild places might be an outdoorsman. An adventurer. The type of person would have gear. The type of gear I could use.
“Starting a collection?”
“Not quite,” I mumbled, patting my pocket and striding toward the front hall closet, mentally crossing my fingers.
The mirrored door stuck on its tracks, but I slid it open, catching a loose basketball right before it smacked me in the nose. The hangers squeaked along the metal closet rod as I shoved jackets left and right. It was smaller than I’d hoped, and the spark of excitement I’d been holding onto fizzled out. There wasn’t anything of value aside from a nice windbreaker I might snag. I let out a long sigh as I sunk into the leather couch, kicking my slippers clad feet up on the matching ottoman.
“Are you pouting?”
I crossed my arms tighter over my chest. “Maybe. I got my hopes up.”
“That’s dangerous,” she pointed out, blowing a strand of hair out of her eyes. “What were you looking for?”
“I thought the guy that lived here might have some gear we could use. A tent or a camp stove. Something like that.” I shrugged. “These places are so small, though. Doubt anyone could fit very much in these closets.”
Rosie nodded her agreement as she perched on the arm of the couch next to me. “Tell me about it. I grew up in a condo with my mom. I remember when we were searching she refused to look at any that didn’t have storage lockers.”
“What did you say?”
Rosie’s eyebrows scrunched together. “I said she refused to look at any that didn’t have storage lock–”
I shot to my feet, a smile stretching across my face. “You’re a genius.”
“Thanks?”
“Do you think this building has those? Storage lockers?”
“Older buildings usually do. Big ones in the basement.”
Visions of supplies filled my mind. People kept all sorts of stuff in storage. Junk, for sure, but also sports equipment and winter clothing and, hopefully (there was that word again), camping gear.
“You’re freaking me out. What are you planning?”
“A trip to the basement.”
She rolled her eyes at me.
“You know how people like to poke fun at the characters in horror movies for splitting up? This has the same vibe, Wilder.”
I turned away from her, striding back to the window. The rain and wind intensified, leaves blowing along the road, piling up without anyone to collect them. She didn’t mean anything by her comment, but it hurt. Rosie wanted to leave Copper Ridge? Fine. But I wouldn’t let her do that alone. Our haul felt downright abundant, and my biceps burned under the weight of the last box. After several trips up and down, I finally caved, accepting I wouldn’t be able to hold a gun and get this job done with any type of expedience. Rosie looked tired and pale, and my skin itched with the desire to get her safely into our apartment. To slide that heavy as hell dresser across the door and let out a sigh of relief. To make her eat until she couldn’t swallow one bite more and then make her sleep until the worried lines around her eyes softened.