And it didn’t usually turn out well for the ducks.
I stopped once, while the others continued ahead, to scoop what remained of a mound of snow into the cold box. This might be the last time I filled it, I realized as I snapped the lid shut. We were so close, just a couple states from Georgia, half a day’s drive now that the snow was gone. And it could all be ruined without gas.
As we came up on the house, I saw a tree from the yard had collapsed against the back, presumably during a winter storm. Its branches had shattered the second-floor windows and caved in the roof.
The garage held only a workbench and the smell of mildew. I assumed from the state of the house that no one could possibly be living there, but as we approached the door, a weak sneeze carried through it. All of us froze. Then we hustled on without a backward glance.
My back began to throb under the weight of the pack. Leo shifted the radio in his arms, tucking it under one for a short while, and then the other. Anika rolled her shoulders, her face looking pinched. And Justin limped on, his jaw set and his gaze determined.
The breeze carried a slightly rancid scent to us as we skirted a field of crumpled cornstalks. My nose wrinkled reflexively. Maybe something—or someone—had died in the midst of the crop. I focused on the hemlock trees that lined the border of the next field over, where hopefully we would leave the smell behind.
We were only a few steps away, catching a glimpse of another house just a short distance beyond them, when an oddly familiar whirring sound split the air.
Leo spun around. “Helicopter,” he said, at the same moment I recognized it. A dark speck hung in the sky to the north. In the second I stood staring at the shape, it doubled in size. It was heading our way.
Michael’s looking into the choppers, the voice had said on the radio.
“The Wardens,” I said, turning back toward the trees. “Come on! We have to get out of sight.”
We ran for the hemlocks. Leo held out his hand to Justin, and this time Justin didn’t refuse help. The trees offered only a couple feet of open space beneath their lowest branches. I crouched down and crawled under, pulling the cold box and the backpack after me. Anika scrambled in beside me. Beyond her, the guys were clambering under the neighboring tree.
I squirmed around on the damp soil and elbowed my way back toward the open ground. Peering through the branches, I made out the glint of the sun on the helicopter’s windows and a sheen of blue and white on its body. It looked as though it might pass us by to the west rather than go directly over us, but it was hard to tell. And I had no idea how far they might be able to see from that high up.
I tracked the shape of it growing in the sky. “Are they coming after us?” Anika asked. She was hunched by the trunk of the tree, untangling a strand of her hair from a clump of needles.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I don’t think they saw us. But it’s a good thing we were close to the trees.” If they’d snuck up on us while we were in the middle of one of those fields, they couldn’t have missed us.
“They just aren’t going to give up.” Her voice quavered. “I knew it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Once we get to the CDC, there’s nothing they can do.” I hoped.
“If we get there before Michael moves on to tanks and stealth jets,” she muttered.
I eased a few inches forward to keep the helicopter in sight, and my elbow knocked the hard angle of the pistol in my pocket against my ribs. A picture flashed through my mind: pulling out the gun, aiming at the chopper, and seeing it burst into a ball of flame. Just one of our problems blasted away; just one victory over the Wardens. It was a ridiculous image—something from a movie, not any reality I knew—but it gave me a momentary satisfaction.
The helicopter prowled on, appearing to follow the line of the main highway, about a mile from here. My
I stopped once, while the others continued ahead, to scoop what remained of a mound of snow into the cold box. This might be the last time I filled it, I realized as I snapped the lid shut. We were so close, just a couple states from Georgia, half a day’s drive now that the snow was gone. And it could all be ruined without gas.
As we came up on the house, I saw a tree from the yard had collapsed against the back, presumably during a winter storm. Its branches had shattered the second-floor windows and caved in the roof.
The garage held only a workbench and the smell of mildew. I assumed from the state of the house that no one could possibly be living there, but as we approached the door, a weak sneeze carried through it. All of us froze. Then we hustled on without a backward glance.
My back began to throb under the weight of the pack. Leo shifted the radio in his arms, tucking it under one for a short while, and then the other. Anika rolled her shoulders, her face looking pinched. And Justin limped on, his jaw set and his gaze determined.
The breeze carried a slightly rancid scent to us as we skirted a field of crumpled cornstalks. My nose wrinkled reflexively. Maybe something—or someone—had died in the midst of the crop. I focused on the hemlock trees that lined the border of the next field over, where hopefully we would leave the smell behind.
We were only a few steps away, catching a glimpse of another house just a short distance beyond them, when an oddly familiar whirring sound split the air.
Leo spun around. “Helicopter,” he said, at the same moment I recognized it. A dark speck hung in the sky to the north. In the second I stood staring at the shape, it doubled in size. It was heading our way.
Michael’s looking into the choppers, the voice had said on the radio.
“The Wardens,” I said, turning back toward the trees. “Come on! We have to get out of sight.”
We ran for the hemlocks. Leo held out his hand to Justin, and this time Justin didn’t refuse help. The trees offered only a couple feet of open space beneath their lowest branches. I crouched down and crawled under, pulling the cold box and the backpack after me. Anika scrambled in beside me. Beyond her, the guys were clambering under the neighboring tree.
I squirmed around on the damp soil and elbowed my way back toward the open ground. Peering through the branches, I made out the glint of the sun on the helicopter’s windows and a sheen of blue and white on its body. It looked as though it might pass us by to the west rather than go directly over us, but it was hard to tell. And I had no idea how far they might be able to see from that high up.
I tracked the shape of it growing in the sky. “Are they coming after us?” Anika asked. She was hunched by the trunk of the tree, untangling a strand of her hair from a clump of needles.
“I don’t think so,” I said. “I don’t think they saw us. But it’s a good thing we were close to the trees.” If they’d snuck up on us while we were in the middle of one of those fields, they couldn’t have missed us.
“They just aren’t going to give up.” Her voice quavered. “I knew it.”
“It doesn’t matter,” I said. “Once we get to the CDC, there’s nothing they can do.” I hoped.
“If we get there before Michael moves on to tanks and stealth jets,” she muttered.
I eased a few inches forward to keep the helicopter in sight, and my elbow knocked the hard angle of the pistol in my pocket against my ribs. A picture flashed through my mind: pulling out the gun, aiming at the chopper, and seeing it burst into a ball of flame. Just one of our problems blasted away; just one victory over the Wardens. It was a ridiculous image—something from a movie, not any reality I knew—but it gave me a momentary satisfaction.
The helicopter prowled on, appearing to follow the line of the main highway, about a mile from here. My
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