Race to Refuge

Chapter Eighteen: Charlie

Despite the circumstances, this was turning out to be one of the best days ever. I got my dog back and the stuff that was going to help me survive. And this kid was super-impressive. I never like talking down to kids because I still remember how much I hated it, myself, when I was that age. But it was especially easy to treat Ty like an adult because he was behaving a lot more mature than some of the forty year old guys I knew. And he was only a teenager.

The first thing I wanted to do, though, was to eat. And it was time for the kid to eat, too, since he was just waking up and it was the middle of the day. I decided we'd just tap into the supplies for now, although later on I was going to want to hunt so I didn't have to deplete the store we had.

We prepared a couple of breakfast MREs and gave Mojo some food, too. The kid was finally starting to look more relaxed.

"So, Ty. What's your story? Did you take off for the woods like I did, or are you from around here?" For a second, a feeling of discomfort came over me when I realized that maybe he was even the oldest child of that zombie family. I hoped not.

He shook his head and looked down at the pouch of food he was eating. Despite whatever he'd gone through, you could tell he was a kid who cared about his appearance. He had sandy-blond hair that was long on top and flopped over his eyes so I couldn't see them right now. He had dimples that I'd seen flash exactly once when Mojo had begged for food. He was also very tall and lean. Taller than me, actually, with that slightly awkward bearing of a teen that wasn't used to his own size yet.

"It was supposed to be just a temporary thing. I'm from Raleigh," he said. "I'm taking care of my younger sister, Ginny. I pulled her out of her middle school when I heard about the attacks. We got separated when these zombies came up and now I can't find her."

I studied him. Like I said, I don't like talking down to kids, especially teens. But clearly this wasn't a guy old enough to be looking after a younger sibling on a normal basis. It wasn't like he was nineteen or twenty or anything. He must have been more like fifteen ... maybe sixteen. I decided not to ask about the parents. There was no way there could be a good story there.

"That's really cool, to be looking after your little sis like that," I said lightly, instead.

For a second, I thought I saw tears glint in his green eyes before he leaned forward and let the hair flop over them again, hiding. "Yeah, but I didn't do such a great job. Seeing as how I lost her and everything."

"Hey, man, you just had to get away from zombies, right? You weren't going to be any help to her as a zombie, were you? You did the right thing."

And whatever guilt he must have been wracked with seemed eased in that moment and he looked up briefly to give me a grateful look.

"We were in good shape," he said, like he was mulling it over. "I'd taken the minivan."

"Ooh," I muttered. "Gas guzzler."

"Yeah, that was the bad part about the van. But we had some gas with us and it was good that we could put the seats down and sleep in the back. It made Ginny feel safer, I think," he said.

He was still amazing me every second. Here was a teen boy actually thinking about what his little sister might feel. I don't think I wasted a minute at that age thinking about my sister.

"I'd stopped by this country store and loaded up on supplies that I thought we might need. We had food and water and weapons and survival gear. I felt like we were in pretty good shape in the short term," said Ty, like he was thinking it through.