Quarantine

Different.

I looked at them all before replying to Kyle's question. "Yes, I came from it. Why is-"

Bree spluttered put a remark so fast I barely understood it. "Your lying sack of shit."

I looked at her hard. "Why would I lie about that? I don't even know why you guys seem in shock right now, okay?"

Charles decided to press himself in the corner as he seemed unable to contribute to the groups discussion.

Brent answered me. "Were in shock basically because they told us the Quarantine was void of life after the second day. Then, it started to spread on the outside."

I couldn't believe it. "They didn't step foot inside of the zone. You know that. The people that were left had barricaded them self inside of a building like any sane person would. I almost died more times than I could count trying to leave that death trap."

Kyle was still confused. "How did you escape? They had the whole place locked right. No way in, or out."

Everyone piped up on that. They wanted to know how I had left if I was telling the truth.

I closed my eyes, and fingered the tip of the blade. "I went through the sewer system. Found a dump that led to outside of the wall. That's how I got out, and where I got that rifle Brent is holding."

Brent spoke again. "You told me there was another group there. What if your making this all up because you pulled something on that group?"

I replied sarcastically. "What could I, practically a scrawny boy, do against who knows how many men that group had? I only heard footsteps of them, and that's it."

Bree was testing my remarks. "Only footsteps? They could have been one of the deceased outside."

We were speaking over the banging now. "No, they sounded human to me. Especially the voices, none of those things can make any word we could understand."

They stopped pestering my story, and lasted back again. I repeated my question. "How many people have you seen die?"

Everyone looked up again, and Charles broke the ice. "Only three. Samuel, Shelly, and.... and Dan." A couple years slipped down his cheek.

Kyle went next. "I don't know their names, but was in a shopping center when it hit. Locked myself in a janitor's room, and watched through the small window as people were ripped apart..." he trailed off from that.

Bree patted Megan Jr., as I now decided to call her that, and spoke her turn. "Funny how I have so much more to say, but yours seem so much worse. Never killed anyone yet, but watched my son get run over by a vehicle, I was in the vehicle." She blinked her eyes slowly, and took a deep breath.

Brent closed his eyes. "Only one, and you've seen it Ethan. My wife, Bethany, in the car crash." He shuddered slowly, and took a slow breath to calm himself.

The banging returned, and didn't stop for another hour. By then most of us were sound asleep, but I was sitting in the front then. I watched as the last stragglers strolled by, and then clicked open the door.

~~~~~~~~~~
4 months later:

We watched from the rooftops as the hoard moved past slowly. Only time could tell if we could make it to base before night fall. I glanced at Bree again, and slipped into the shadows.

She was holding the axe with both hands, her black hoodie tight against her figure, and blue jeans snug against her rump.

I silently spoke to her. "Remember the van? Megan Jr. was so peaceful looking. With her in your lap... hard to believe that Brent went his own way with her again. Must be the memory of Bethany with me around that haunts him..."

Bree glanced sideways at me. "I don't think that was it. Brent just didn't want to have Megan be considered a liability even is she is. She's almost died three times, and gotten one of us into trouble even more. Remember before the van? Just before it."

I nodded as the terrifying moment entered my mind again; with me pressed to the floor, and the Rotter so close to making a meal out of me. It made me shudder, and I glanced back at the roof entry door. It was still blocked, and I locked back at the road.

The masses moved steadily across, and I was getting impatient. By the looks of it it would take at least another thirty minutes for them I clear, and then we would have a two hour hike back to base. We still hadn't come across a working car, and when we did it was always the gas issue.

I touched my cheek, and traced the L-shaped scar on it; a reminder to check the gun. I was tired of waiting, we needed to get back soon or we wouldn't be able to keep up with demand in a couple months.

After the road we had set down camp outside a cluster of small towns, and farm land. From there we took shelter in a suitable house, and started to make it home. We ended up pulling in a few more people, and numbers were up to 12. We wouldn't have 12 soon though if we didn't get the farming tools we were hauling back.

Both Bree, and I had a stuffed full duffel bag on our backs.

She looked at me again. "Don't you dare do what your thinking."

I stopped tracing the scar. "What do you mean?"

She looked at me with a scornful face. "Your impatient. You always trace that scar when your getting in a hurry."

Stop touching the scar.

"Not all the time." I tried to justify myself.

"Yeah. You do it when you're bored as well. That's the only other time you do it.." I looked down after her observation.

My hand went right back to tracing the scar, but I didn't stop it. It was sort of soothing, or calming to an extent.

"You know you could get home if I took them with me. It might take you a little longer, but they would get the supplies. We've done it before..." I was bored...

Bree gave me a huff for an answer.

"Fine... I'll wait." I readjusted the bags straps.

Bree pulled back from watching the horde, its guttural noises finally making her disgusted. "We might as well set up camp for tonight. Looks like we're not going anywhere."

I spoke up before getting to work. "This will be the first time being away for the night from shell."

Bree looked at me, and spoke quietly. "Yeah, me to. I still don't like the name, the shell, who calls a house that?"

I pulled off the bag while replying. "Apparently us. It had something to symbolize the shell of the past, and the beginning of the future.."

"I know silly. Let's get back to work." She punched my lightly on the arm with a smile on her face.

It's been forever since I've seen someone smile like that. Even Charles had stopped doing it...

One night won't hurt. We're just out of the shell...

=======

And that, faithful readers, is the end of Quarantine!

Check out the next book in this series, The Shell, once I finish up Living a Dream.

I hope you enjoyed the ending although it skipped four whole months. Happy reading.