increased as people voiced their opinions.
Dee pushed her way to the front and stood in front of Mason. “What is going on?” she demanded.
He hissed, “What are you doing? You've got to get lost.”
“For your information, I'm looking for my Grandpa's truck.”
Someone near her elbow asked, “Who's your grandpa?”
“Doctor Milton Kerns, the vet,” she replied, turning toward the voice. There was some murmuring in the crowd and then another voice said, “Doesn't he drive an old Chevrolet? I think I saw Gerald Fife in a white truck just like it a while back.”
A few more people agreed they'd seen him too, but no one knew where he'd gone. Conversation turned to his wife Sally, and their baby. “Poor things,” one woman said.
“Dee,” she heard Mason whisper. She took a backward step toward him, pretending to pay attention to the crowd. “The truck's in the cemetery. I left something in it for you.” Dee felt her pulse quicken and she wasn't sure whether it was his closeness or discovering where the truck was. “West side of town. Take it and get out of here,” he said roughly.
She felt a surge of anger. She wanted to ask him why he’d left on the day of the EMP and why he’d been stealing food. Where were his parents? Shouldn’t they be dealing with this?
There were too many people listening though and she had to go. She felt guilty about leaving, but the last time she’d left Grandpa alone this long he’d had a heart attack. Besides, Mason had left her first. She wasn’t going to risk getting involved with him again.
Dee told herself that the older man, Max, and some of the others would be able to get the crowd to come to its senses. She turned and worked her way back to Hyrum.
“He told me where the truck is,” she whispered to Hyrum.
“Do you know Mason?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Barely. We only met once.” She tried to sound nonchalant and hoped the flush she could feel in her cheeks wouldn’t give her away.
“Never mind that,” she said impatiently. “Let's go see if it's still there.”
It took them about ten minutes to walk the five blocks to the cemetery, all of it seemingly uphill. When they got there, Dee was surprised to see the cemetery covered a large area, full of hills and trees. It took another ten minutes before they found the truck in a back corner under a weeping willow. She went immediately to the bed of the truck and inspected the lockbox. It didn't seem damaged. After looking around to make sure they were alone, she set the key in the lock and turned. The food was still there.
“What's in there?” asked Hyrum.
“Just some supplies,” she said. Dee trusted Hyrum, but she was learning that hunger changed people. She locked the storage box again and went back around to the driver side where Hyrum was trying to get the door open.
“See right here?” he pointed. “Someone used a slimjim to unlock the door, but I don't see it anywhere.”
“Grandpa only had the one set of keys,” Dee sighed. This was the biggest flaw with her plan – she'd been hoping the car thief would leave the keys in the ignition when he went running into the clinic. It seemed pretty common here in the country where everyone trusted everyone else. It hadn't seemed like such a stretch earlier.
“I'm going to bust the window,” said Hyrum, looking for a rock.
“Hold on,” said Dee. “Do you smell something?” A gust of wind brought a foul stench to them and Dee looked around for the source.
“Down there,” pointed Hyrum. “But I'm not sure we want to get any closer.”
Dee was already moving downhill toward the still form.
It was a sad scene, needing no explanation. Next to a grave with a fresh mound of dirt and a bouquet of wildflowers was the body of the man that had stolen the truck. He was lying stretched out beside the grave and the back of his head was blown out.
Dee cupped a hand over her nose and mouth and looked at the sad tableau. She wondered
Dee pushed her way to the front and stood in front of Mason. “What is going on?” she demanded.
He hissed, “What are you doing? You've got to get lost.”
“For your information, I'm looking for my Grandpa's truck.”
Someone near her elbow asked, “Who's your grandpa?”
“Doctor Milton Kerns, the vet,” she replied, turning toward the voice. There was some murmuring in the crowd and then another voice said, “Doesn't he drive an old Chevrolet? I think I saw Gerald Fife in a white truck just like it a while back.”
A few more people agreed they'd seen him too, but no one knew where he'd gone. Conversation turned to his wife Sally, and their baby. “Poor things,” one woman said.
“Dee,” she heard Mason whisper. She took a backward step toward him, pretending to pay attention to the crowd. “The truck's in the cemetery. I left something in it for you.” Dee felt her pulse quicken and she wasn't sure whether it was his closeness or discovering where the truck was. “West side of town. Take it and get out of here,” he said roughly.
She felt a surge of anger. She wanted to ask him why he’d left on the day of the EMP and why he’d been stealing food. Where were his parents? Shouldn’t they be dealing with this?
There were too many people listening though and she had to go. She felt guilty about leaving, but the last time she’d left Grandpa alone this long he’d had a heart attack. Besides, Mason had left her first. She wasn’t going to risk getting involved with him again.
Dee told herself that the older man, Max, and some of the others would be able to get the crowd to come to its senses. She turned and worked her way back to Hyrum.
“He told me where the truck is,” she whispered to Hyrum.
“Do you know Mason?” he asked, eyebrows raised.
“Barely. We only met once.” She tried to sound nonchalant and hoped the flush she could feel in her cheeks wouldn’t give her away.
“Never mind that,” she said impatiently. “Let's go see if it's still there.”
It took them about ten minutes to walk the five blocks to the cemetery, all of it seemingly uphill. When they got there, Dee was surprised to see the cemetery covered a large area, full of hills and trees. It took another ten minutes before they found the truck in a back corner under a weeping willow. She went immediately to the bed of the truck and inspected the lockbox. It didn't seem damaged. After looking around to make sure they were alone, she set the key in the lock and turned. The food was still there.
“What's in there?” asked Hyrum.
“Just some supplies,” she said. Dee trusted Hyrum, but she was learning that hunger changed people. She locked the storage box again and went back around to the driver side where Hyrum was trying to get the door open.
“See right here?” he pointed. “Someone used a slimjim to unlock the door, but I don't see it anywhere.”
“Grandpa only had the one set of keys,” Dee sighed. This was the biggest flaw with her plan – she'd been hoping the car thief would leave the keys in the ignition when he went running into the clinic. It seemed pretty common here in the country where everyone trusted everyone else. It hadn't seemed like such a stretch earlier.
“I'm going to bust the window,” said Hyrum, looking for a rock.
“Hold on,” said Dee. “Do you smell something?” A gust of wind brought a foul stench to them and Dee looked around for the source.
“Down there,” pointed Hyrum. “But I'm not sure we want to get any closer.”
Dee was already moving downhill toward the still form.
It was a sad scene, needing no explanation. Next to a grave with a fresh mound of dirt and a bouquet of wildflowers was the body of the man that had stolen the truck. He was lying stretched out beside the grave and the back of his head was blown out.
Dee cupped a hand over her nose and mouth and looked at the sad tableau. She wondered
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