Getting Home

13

Max and Mandy remained crouched behind stacks of cardboard boxes. They were trying not to move much or make any sounds at all.

They couldn’t see what was happening without peeking out, and they didn’t want to do that.

Light flooded the whole area. One of the cargo doors was open, but Max hadn’t yet heard any sounds. No greetings. No shouts or commands. Nothing.

They waited.

All Max could hear were footsteps.

Now there was some grunting. Some indecipherable sounds. Maybe something being set down? It was a cargo area, after all. Maybe a delivery was being made.

But a delivery? It didn’t make sense.

“What should we do?” whispered Mandy, speaking directly into Max’s ear in an incredibly soft voice.

With the other noises, there wasn’t much chance a whisper like that could be heard.

Max could feel Mandy’s hot breath in his ear. He tried not to let it distract him.

Max shook his head at her, indicating that he didn’t know.

Mandy put her mouth back against his ear. “Do you think it has anything to do with the drugs?”

“The drugs?” whispered Max, using the same technique.

“Didn’t you see the drugs lying around? All those people are high on something. There were needles and everything.”

Max shook his head to let her know he hadn’t seen it.

How had he missed it? That wasn’t like him. Then again, there hadn’t been much time.

So that added a new piece to the puzzle.

Before Max could think about it any further, someone finally spoke.

“OK, boss, I’ve got it all distributed.”

“You got everyone a good supply?”

Max couldn’t hear the next thing. Just some inaudible mumbling.

“OK, then. Who’s it going to be?”

“What about that one?”

“Too thin.”

“He’s only going to get thinner.”

Max was listening as carefully as he could, trying to pick up not just the tone of the conversation and the meaning, but trying to see if he could glean some information about who these men were.

If they needed to fight their way out, knowing something about them ahead of time would be helpful.

A quick glance exchanged with Mandy assured Max that she didn’t know what the conversation was about either.

“All right, you’re right. Load him up.”

Were they taking one of the workers away?

Would there be some kind of protest, a fight? After all, it didn’t sound like it was a volunteer program they were running.

But there was nothing. No fight. No struggle. Hardly even a word. Just some more mumbling, and a couple words here and there from the two men.

The next thing Max knew, the metal door was shutting again. It slammed down into the concrete and once again the room was dark.

It’d take Max’s eyes a little while to adjust. He’d have to wait until then before he made any moves.

For now, it seemed like they were in the clear.

As Max waited for his eyes to adjust, he felt his pulse with his fingers. His heart rate was going down, but it was still elevated. His body had been ready for a fight that hadn’t happened.

“What the hell just happened?” whispered Mandy through the darkness.

“No idea,” said Max. “We’ll wait a couple more minutes and then we’ll find out.”

“You’re worried they’ll come back?”

“It’s a possibility.”

So they waited.

Maybe they should just leave, get out of the whole rest stop as soon as possible. This wasn’t any of their business, whatever it was that was going on.

But they couldn’t leave just yet. Whoever had come and opened the cargo door might still be out there, waiting. They’d see Max and Mandy as they left the building.

After enough time had passed, it didn’t seem like the cargo door would open again.

“Come on,” whispered Max. “Let’s see what happened. Then we’ll get out of here.”

Slowly, Max and Mandy left their hiding place and began walking through the candle-lit area.

People were laying on the wooden pallets just before. Some were curled up. Many lay on their backs, spread-eagle, with their mouths open and their eyes glazed over.

There was a young man with long hair on one of the pallets who looked dazed. Next to him, there was a small bag of white powder lying on the ground. A needle and syringe lay next to it.

“So this is what they were giving them, you think?” said Mandy, bending down to examine the baggie more closely. “What do you think it is?”

“Careful,” said Max. “Don’t touch it.”

“Why not?” said Mandy, her hand mere inches away from the bag.

“Before the EMP, I read news stories of heroin laced with a drug called Fentanyl. It’s a synthetic opiate that’s many times more potent than anything else, active in the micrograph range and very deadly. Even just touching it can lead to fatalities.”

“Oh,” said Mandy in surprise, pulling her hand away. “But it wouldn’t kill me, would it?” She looked worried, and wiped her hand on her pant leg. “I mean, if he injected it…”

“Probably has a high tolerance,” said Max, peering at the man. “Whatever that stuff is, it sure seems like the men who were here were dropping off drugs. Everyone’s more out of it than before they arrived.”

“They really are,” said Mandy, casting her eyes around the room at the other half-awake figures. “But why would someone come here and give drugs to a bunch of these employees? It’s really weird.”

Max nodded. “It’s weird, yeah,” he said, his eyes falling on Jones, who was off in a new corner, curled up in the fetal position. “Let’s see if our friend Jones has anything to say about it.”

They walked over, and Max nudged Jones with the toe of his boot. “What’s this all about, Jones? Who were those people?”

“They’re helping us,” muttered Jones, his voice slurred.

“Helping you how? By bringing you drugs?”

Jones nodded sleepily.

“That’s not going to help you,” said Mandy, sounding angry.

“Why are they doing this?” said Max.

Jones didn’t answer.

“What are they getting out of it? Are they taking something from you? What are you giving them?”

Jones looked up at Max with half-opened eyes. “They take us sometimes.”

“They take you sometimes?” said Mandy. “What the hell are you talking about? He’s just talking gibberish. Come on, Max. Let’s get out of here.”

“No,” said Max. “I think he’s trying to say something. You’re saying they’re taking some of you away?”

Jones nodded.

“Like one at a time? They take one of you each time they come?”

Jones nodded and then he closed his eyes, going back into his sleepy trance state.

“What the hell?” muttered Mandy. “They’re keeping them all here, and taking them away one by one? What in the world would be the goal in something like that? Whatever it is, it’s sick.”

“Yeah,” said Max. “I can’t figure it out either.” His eyes kept moving around the room, studying it. “What it means to me is that people are starting to get organized.”

“Organized?”

“Yeah. There’s some group out there that has the basics of survival already covered. They’ve got resources and the time to come here and do whatever it is they’re doing. They’ve got access to not only food but drugs, and they have some strange and probably twisted goal in mind. Groups like the militia in the suburbs, and the compound, they’re all going to start growing in power. Some will take over others, consuming them and growing bigger and more powerful.”

“Doesn’t sound good.”

“No,” said Max. “No, it doesn’t.”

“I wish we could have gotten farther away from the East Coast,” said Mandy. “I wish we could have made it far out to some rural area in the middle of the country, like your original plan.”

“Well,” said Max. “We might end up doing that someday. But for now, it seems like our camp is our best option. We can hide out there while whatever it is here goes on.”

“We just have to get back there.”

Max nodded. “Do you think we should try to help them? These people here?”

Max didn’t say anything for a moment. “They’re too far gone,” he said. “And it’s not like they didn’t have a choice.”

Mandy nodded stiffly. “Well then, let’s get out of here. I don’t like the idea of being stuck in here again if those people come back.”

“We’ll go out the way we came in,” said Max.