Chapter 8
The next two days go by at a snail’s pace.
We mostly stay together in the dayroom, playing games, sleeping, and eating what little prepackaged food we have left.
Mr. Josh is finally starting to let us take trips to the bathroom by ourselves, thank god.
We’re all on edge, snapping at each other for breathing too loudly, but no one is more bothered than Mr. Josh.
He’s restless, and he hasn’t spoken a single word to me since I handled the Cat situation.
As I predicted, no one has come to help us.
But we’ve been lucky, as apocalypses go.
Our locked unit hasn’t had a single intruder, and the power and water have stayed on so far.
None of the alarms have been tripped in the building, and the silence has protected us.
The rest of the city hasn’t been so fortunate.
From the barred dayroom window, we’ve watched Peoria fall apart. The street is strewn with bodies and abandoned cars while fires send up smoke throughout the city. The occasional scream, gunshot, or siren sends chills up my spine. Things are bad and getting worse.
It’s becoming harder and harder to get updated news from the television.
The few broadcasts we were able to get from yesterday repeat, and I’m starting to wonder if anyone is left at the stations.
Still, the news from the first day rings in my ear.
We will be overrun. The power grid will fail. We can’t stay here.
I pull Keisha to the back corner of the dayroom for a game of Go Fish.
Lucia tags along, and I can’t help but roll my eyes.
Keisha’s new shadow is persistent. I decide to let it slide and allow her to follow us.
I deal the first hand, then get down to business, quietly saying the words we all know are true.
“We need a plan to leave. It’s just a matter of time before the power and water fail. We can’t be stuck here in the middle of the city. Not with thousands of these things roaming around,” I say quietly, shifting my eyes to the right to be sure I’m not heard by Mr. Josh.
Behind us, music plays from a small stereo as Ginger argues with January about the human rights of Ken dolls in the Barbie village they’re creating together.
Mr. Josh appears entertained by their banter, and I can just tell he’s wishing he had his electronic chart to document the social and emotional implications of the scene.
In the corner, Nurse Patrick reads a thick novel, completely unaware of it all.
We’re safe to keep talking as long as we’re quiet.
“There have to be hundreds more bodies waiting to wake up out there,” Keisha says with a shiver.
“Probably thousands. But we either face it and find safety or stay here and wait to starve. We have to find someplace with fewer people. And plenty of food and water,” I say.
We’re quiet for the next few minutes, pretending to play cards and waiting for a solution to appear out of thin air. Then, it does.
“We should go south,” Lucia says softly. Keisha and I look at her, surprised, waiting for her to elaborate.
“South of Peoria is all farmland and small towns. There’ll be fewer people, like you said.
Plus, there are rivers that go south. The Illinois River and the Mississippi.
Ms. Rhonda taught us about them in history class a few weeks ago.
Rivers have water and food. That’s how the Native Americans lived before us,” she explains shyly.
She’s right. I’ve been staring at that road atlas all day.
I can’t believe I didn’t think of it.
“That’s not a bad idea,” I say to Lucia approvingly. Having her around is less annoying with every passing minute.
I walk over to my pile of belongings in the corner of the room and find the road atlas I checked out of the library, turn to the page with the state of Illinois, and carry it back to the card table.
“Look here. Lucia’s right,” I say, pointing to Peoria and tracing my finger south along a thin blue line. “The Illinois River runs through Peoria and goes south until it meets the Mississippi River here. Then it goes all the way south until it meets the ocean.”
“So we follow the river south? That’s the whole plan?” Keisha asks skeptically.
“Going south gets us away from the carriers and away from what happens when the lights and water go out. Plus, maybe we’ll find help out there,” I say, hoping to convince her.
Keisha’s forehead wrinkles, and she shifts uncomfortably in her seat. She pulls the atlas toward her and traces her finger along the river. “I guess if this thing lasts until winter, we’ll be warmer in the south. Let’s do it.” She nods a bit more confidently.
“Good. Then we just need an escape plan. Sneaking out isn’t an option during the day,” I say, thinking aloud. “There’s no chance Mr. Josh is going to let the three of us leave the dayroom at the same time, and we’re not fast enough to make a run for it.”
“What about leaving while everyone is sleeping?” Lucia suggests.
“I don’t want to be outside in the dark with those things,” Keisha says, wrinkling her nose.
I turn the problem over and over in my mind while we play another few hands of cards.
“I think the best option is to just tell them we’re leaving, stay firm, and just walk out. Everything has changed. It’s not like they can stop us now. What is Mr. Josh going to do? Tie us up? Ginger would lose her mind. We have rights, you know,” I say with a smirk.
“How are we going to get out, though? We have no idea what’s happening on the lower floors of the center. Remember, Mr. Josh said there were some outbreaks downstairs on the acute psych units,” Keisha reminds us.
“So we won’t walk through the building. We’ll use the fire escape on the roof,” I suggest, avoiding the part about it being ancient and rusty and terrifying.
Lucia looks to Keisha, waiting for her reaction. When Keisha nods, Lucia nods too.
“Both of you need to pack a bag. Pack anything in your room that might be useful on a long trip. And put on clothes you can move around in. I know it’s summer, but we need to keep our arms and legs covered out there in case we get attacked.
Don’t bring your bags in here. Put them next to the door in the south hall.
We’ll grab them when we leave. First thing in the morning. ”
“I’ll make it happen,” Keisha says, nodding.
And I know she will. I sit back and wait, eager to see how she pulls it off. I don’t have to wait long.
Keisha whispers something in Lucia’s ear, and about an hour later, Lucia walks past Mr. Josh with her thin arms wrapped around herself, shivering just a bit.
He notices but doesn’t say anything. With Mr. Josh’s attention, Lucia walks over to the couch where Keisha is waiting.
Keisha then puts her arm around Lucia, rubbing her upper arm briskly, and leads her toward the door of the dayroom.
Before they reach the door, Mr. Josh calls out to them.
“Where do you two think you’re going?” Mr. Josh demands.
“Oh, sorry! The air-conditioning is freezing, right? Lucia’s cold. I’m just going with her to grab a sweater. I have an extra one in the back of my closet,” Keisha lies casually.
Mr. Josh buys it, and I feel a flash of envy.
He would never let me leave this room alone with Lucia, or any of the other girls for that matter.
Keisha moves through the world lying easily, but rarely does she get questioned.
Part of it is her preparation. Her lies are believable because she’s planted pieces of the lie in people’s minds before she ever tells the lie itself. Her lies are patient.
She also has pretty incredible acting skills, but most importantly, people tend to trust her implicitly, including Mr. Josh.
“Be quiet out there. And if you hear anything, you need to come back here immediately. You have five minutes. Go,” Mr. Josh says, making a show of checking his watch.
A few minutes later, Keisha and Lucia come back. Lucia is wearing a too-big sweater that I recognize from Keisha’s wardrobe. Keisha gives me a small nod to let me know the job is done. Now that we’re packed, we just have to wait for morning.