Scattered by Shannon Mayer Page A

get a little bit, we’ll head to the water and find a boat.”
    Our plan was simple once we heard the radio announcement. Get food, get to a boat and get across the Georgia Straight to the mainland. There was a small group of people holding down the Vancouver airport and they were able to fly survivors out. It — the announcement — had come as we were down to our last three cans of food. The answer was obvious ; we had to go. Whether Dustin wanted to or not.
    “I hate water , Annie. You know that , ” h e whined as we crept toward the store. I ignored him. Broken glass and signs hanging askew were not a good indication that there was food left, but we had to try.
    A single barking cough flattened us against the wall of the bu ilding . Again , Dustin reached for my hand and I took it, as much for myself as for him.
    Carefully, I ease d toward the door, my c lothes catching on the brick façade ; the scratchy sound seemed to echo down the street announcing our presence.
    I peeked in , but didn’t see anything. Against the dark red brick I felt like we were a neon sign screaming, ‘Here we are, come and get us!’
    Being in the open was not good. I took a breath, gave a tug on Dustin’s hand , and we crept into the shadowy building. Crouching in the corner closest to the door, we scanned the interior of the room.
    Dustin started to pant , and I was afraid he would pass out , his breathing was so rapid. I put my mouth to his ear.
    “Easy , buddy. There might not be anything in here but a stray dog. We don’t know what the noise was , ” I whispered.
    Not that we’d seen a stray dog since the second week of the outbreak, but that was beside the point. I needed him to calm d own.
    We sat in silence for nearly five minutes, long enough for my skin to begin to itch from the lack of movement. The fear of being in one place for too long ran hot in my blood.
    Standing up , I led the way down the aisles. The produce section had a few rotten pieces of fruit, there was nothing left in the bakery and the next two aisles were cleaners and toiletries. Not exactly edible. A scent permeated the store, growing stronger the further in we got. It tickled my nose , not in a good way; I couldn’t put my finger on it.
    We came around the corner from aisles 3 to 4 and froze. Crouched over a body was a smallish Nevermore , his back to us as he feasted.
    We stepped back as a unit and hid in aisle 3. Dustin started to shake and tears welled up in his eyes, quickly spilling over onto his cheeks. I wiped them away and gave him a hug, all in complete silence. We knew too well not to make a noise with a Nevermore that close.
    I pantomimed sneaking behind him with my hands and Dustin’s crying increased. I grabbed his arms and gave him a shake. This was not the time to break down. We needed food if we were to get out of here. I didn’t know how long it would take us to get across the water and we needed to be prepared. Even if it was terrifying.
    I went first, creeping along the pale linoleum floor, the scent of blood and eviscerated bowels assaulting my senses; that was what I’d smelled earlier. I put my hand over my mouth and pinched my nose; tried not to gag as the Nevermore slurped up something long, wet and stringy.
    Dustin, trembling so hard I wasn’t sure he would make it, slowly inched his way behind the Nevermore. Mid way, his running shoe hit a patch of moisture and let out the softest of sq ueaks, freezing all three of us .
    The Nevermore let out a low growl and began to turn his head back toward our original hiding spot. I motioned for Dustin to jump, run, something but he just stood there, shaking.
    There was only a split second for me to make a decision . I reached out and grabbed him, yanking him with me down the next aisle . The Nevermore let out a querying grunt and I held my breath. The shuffle of feet, the slide of a body on the linoleum floor. He was dragging it away from us.
    I let out a breath.
    “Sorry , ” Dustin