Gray (Book 3) Read online

  “I’m a Methodist,” said Kathy. “Lapsed, I guess.”

  Which struck Coral as funny, that in the post-Event world, someone still identified themselves that way. Sounded safer than alien baby-breeders, though.

  Benjamin had made short work of his share of the packing. He stood and pointed at the burlap sacks. “Do you want us to carry them?”

  “I’ll take the heavy one,” Coral said, reaching for it.

  “No,” said Benjamin. “I’ll get it.”

  “You’ve done more than your share this past couple weeks. And remember your arm,” she said.

  “Let Coral take hers. I’ll take the heavier sack,” said Kathy. “You can baby that arm.”

  Wrong word to use, baby. Benjamin scowled at it like a six-year-old kid being told he was a baby.

  That told her, as much as anything, that he must be hurting. “Did I make it worse?” she said.

  “I’m fine,” he said. But within a few steps, he put his arm back in the sling.

  Martin was no fool about positioning himself well behind the rest of them. Benjamin went first, then Coral, then a space of eight or ten feet, and Kathy. Martin brought up the rear and directed Benjamin to follow the newcomers’ tracks back toward the west. The sun was a barely-lighter patch in the sky as they walked toward it for nearly an hour.

  Coral was surprised at herself for how calmly she was acting. Inside, she was angry, and frightened, and barely holding herself back from attacking the superior force, unwise as that would be. Somehow, despite her inner turmoil, she was keeping it together and pretending to be a meek and obedient prisoner.

  She knew she was physically weak, and Benjamin’s arm would limit what he could do in an attack. If they were to free themselves of their captors, it would have to be through wile, not direct force. If they were to free themselves, they needed their rifle, and the hatchet, and her knife back, too. Without those, the odds against their survival skyrocketed.

  For now, Coral could bide her time.

  Chapter 4

  They were losing light when they came to the strangers’ camp. Two other men sat at a campfire. A tent was pitched nearby. Both men stood, weapons in hand. One had a rifle with a scope, the other a shotgun.

  Four weapons were arrayed against them and not even her pocket knife to defend herself. Coral was under the control of a far superior force.

  They were communicating with each other wordlessly, the glancing, raised eyebrows, little shrugs of people who knew each other well. It didn’t take a genius to know the silent conversation was about her and Benjamin.

  The first words spoken were Kathy’s. “Coral is her name. She’s a doctor.”

  Coral didn’t deny it. If she was seen as a useful asset, maybe that would keep her alive.

  “Looks awful young to be a doctor,” said one of the new men, a tall man with a fur lined hood framing a long face.

  Coral kept her silence.

  “Well?” he prodded. “Are you?”

  If they had anyone in their group who knew about medicine, she didn’t think she could fake being an MD. “Doctor in training,” she said. True enough, though it implied more skill than what she had.

  “Where?”

  “University of Michigan.”

  The fourth man said, “Good school.” He had glasses, a trimmed beard and a high brow, and he looked as if he might be a graduate school student himself in the old world.

  “Good school,” she agreed. A stab of nostalgia surprised her. She wished it were spring of last year, that azaleas were blooming, and that she were walking the Diag through the ever-present cloud of pot smoke, heading to her biochem lab. She wished she were still that girl, living in that safe and simple world, with no bigger worry than getting the answer to her question on metal hydrides out of a bored TA.

  The fourth man, the graduate student one, said, “I’m Doug. That’s Jamie.”

  Coral’s little trip down memory lane had her almost saying, “Nice to meet you,” but that was ridiculous. It was not nice to meet them. It was frightening. She gave a curt nod instead.

  “Your friend is who?” said Jamie. “He’s kind of quiet.”

  “That’s Benjamin,” Coral said. “I’m trying to treat a wound infection he has. You all wouldn’t have any aspirin or antibiotics or a sterile gauze?”

  “What’s he to you?” asked Jamie.

  “My husband,” said Coral, before she had any idea she was going to say it. But once she had, she thought it might have been the smartest thing she’d said in a long while. If they were going to believe she was a doctor and spare her life because of it, she needed to give them a reason to spare Benjamin’s, too.

  “Looks old enough to be your father,” muttered Jamie.

  “It’s his beard,” said Coral. She couldn’t see Benjamin’s face, but she hoped he wasn’t staring back at her slack-jawed in shock to discover that somehow, in the past seven months, he’d gotten himself married to her. After the initial surprise has worn off, surely he’d understand what she was trying to do. She had to protect him, and she had to keep them from being separated.

  “We have a few first aid supplies,” said Kathy.

  “And you’re willing to share?” said Coral.

  “Sure. It’s not much.” She ducked into the tent and brought out a good-quality backpack. She rooted through it and tossed Coral a soft-sided pack, dark green with a red cross on it. “Take whatever you need.” She turned to the men. “Any food hot?”

  “We were waiting for you two. But I don’t know about two more people. Do we have the MREs to spare?”

  Benjamin said his first words. “We have fish that Coral caught yesterday.”

  “Ice fishing?” Jamie asked.

  Coral moved to the fire, which was giving out some light, and opened the first aid kit. There were bandages, a stretch bandage, tweezers, some two by twos, tape, and, miracle of miracles, a small tube of triple-antibiotic ointment, about 2/3 used.

  “Coral,” said Benjamin.

  “Come over here and let me re-bandage that.”

  He pointed across the fire. “The man asked you a question.”

  She glanced up. Jamie said, “Stupid question. Had to be ice-fishing, right? You have a tip rod?”

  “No.” She had a vague idea of what they were—ice fishing specialty gear. “Summer gear and five feet of line. But the perch didn’t seem to mind.”

  “Willing to trade one of your perch for an MRE?” he said.

  She nodded. “I’ll trade you two for two, in fact. Benjamin, please throw the man some fish, and then sit down next to me.”

  The man jerked when Benjamin opened the burlap sack, but Kathy said, “I’ve already been through their bags.”

  Benjamin handed over a whole perch, cleaned of its guts, head still attached, and two fillets left over from yesterday.

  “Damn,” said Jamie. “Thanks. That looks great.”

  She had Benjamin sit by the fire so she could see his arm better in its light.

  “We have a flashlight,” said Martin.

  “Thank you,” said Coral, meaning it. “That’d help.”

  She wasn’t used to doing first aid for an audience, but that’s what she had to deal with. She was auditioning for her role as doctor to this group, and that made her more nervous.

  “Hurry it up if you can,” said Benjamin. “It’s damned cold without my shirt.”

  Coral shot him a grateful look for giving her a built-in excuse for fumbling the job. She untied the previous bandage. The bigger wound of the two was still seeping blood. She tore open a two-by-two and put a dab of antibiotic cream on it. The stuff was precious, and she didn’t use more than she needed. She put that on the larger wound. “Hold that,” she said to Benjamin. She opened a bandage strip for the smaller wound. She put a smear of antibiotic cream on it and pressed it on Benjamin’s arm.

  She taped down the edges of the two-by-two, then had him flex his arm to make sure it was going to stay put. “I’m goi
ng to wrap the old bandage around it again, to make sure those don’t slip, okay?”

  “You’re the doctor,” said Benjamin, and when she glanced at his face, she saw the glint of amusement in his eyes.

  Despite everything, it made her want to smile at him. She schooled her features, though, and tied the bandage back around his bicep. “You’re good for another day.” She turned to Doug, who’d been holding the flashlight, and thanked him for the extra light.

  “No prob,” he said, flicking it off and putting it away.

  Kathy had filled a pan with water and was setting it to boil. Jamie had found a small skillet in his gear and was cooking the perch. “Do I have to share?” he said.

  “We’ve been living on fish for months,” said Coral. “I certainly don’t need any.”

  Kathy said, “I’m not a big fan of fish. You three guys can split it.”

  “I’m in,” said Doug.

  Martin said, “Me, too. Wish we had some butter.” He stretched and then sat, his hand still loosely on his rifle. Kathy still had her gun in the holster.

  “We didn’t bring extra MREs,” Kathy said. “The trade was two fish for two of these, but I’d suggest you two split one tonight and one tomorrow morning.”

  Benjamin said, “It’s good of you to share.”

  It was shocking they were willing to share, Coral thought. The strangers could have taken their fish, their gear, shot them and either eaten them or left them for dead. She hoped that wasn’t because they wanted to save them for something terrible. Kathy’s reassurance she wouldn’t be forced into prostitution might or might not be true.

  Kathy said, “You two have a choice of—let’s see. Pork fajitas, beef and vegetable, turkey, and smoky frankfurters with beans.”

  “You decide,” said Coral to Benjamin. It all sounded wonderful to her.

  “Turkey for supper,” he said.

  That surprised Coral, and then she realized he was probably picking what he thought she’d like. Oh well, it didn’t matter. She’d eaten raw grubs. Any actual meal designed for human consumption had to be better than that. “Franks for breakfast,” she said, picking what she thought Benjamin would prefer as their second meal.

  “Turkey and franks it is. These are all fifteen to twenty years old, by the way,” Kathy said, tucking the other meals back in the backpack.

  “How’d they survive the heat?” Benjamin said.

  “Basement storage,” she said, as she sat by the fire. “Hey, Doug, give me some light.”

  He shone the flashlight for her as she read the package. “You need water for the main meal and for the stuffing thing, if I remember right.” She tore open a plastic bag, and a dozen smaller bags spilled out onto her lap. “Okay. We have the main meal with turkey, gravy, and peas. Stuffing. Dried cranberries.” She set each packet aside as she named it.

  Jamie said, “Put water in those berries, too, or they’ll be like rocks.”

  “That’s true,” said Kathy. “Oatmeal cookie. Jelly to spread on the cookie, which is probably too stale to eat. Chocolate, coffee—we usually save those for morning.”

  It sounded like a wealth of food, and a mad variety of tastes, to Coral. Her salivary glands were responding to the words and the memories they triggered.

  Jamie finished cooking one fish fillet and set it aside on a rock that formed the fire ring to keep warm while he cooked the next. Light faded from the sky as they waited for everyone’s meal to be ready at once, and soon the fire and flashlights were all the illumination they had. The four of the strangers had camping plates, and Coral and Benjamin poured their meal pouches into the pan she’d used to boil water, and they shared that as a plate, passing it back and forth in the firelight. They all drank hot water.

  She wasn’t sure she’d tasted anything quite so good, ever, as that meal. At some level, she knew it must be pretty mediocre stuff by her old standards. But having turkey again, and cornbread dressing, and the wild sweetness of the cranberries—what a wealth of sensation. All she could think about for those too-brief moments was the food, its taste and texture.

  When the meal was done, and Benjamin was tearing open the main packet to lick out the last of the gravy, her mind came back to their situation. Why were these people willing to share the food with her and Benjamin?

  She didn’t trust them and their seeming kindness. She didn’t trust anyone but Benjamin. The world had taught her that no one was honorable, and that kindness was a lure, like the lures she dangled in front of the fish. What were these people trying to lure them into?

  The comparison to fishing provided an answer. After she’d lured the fish in, she killed and ate them. These people wanted to use her. And it might be as food, or it might be for sex. If she was very, very lucky, it might be for her skills. When they found out she wasn’t as skilled at doctoring as she had claimed, what would be done to her and Benjamin then?

  Should she be trying to ingratiate herself? Or looking for an opportunity to escape?

  Chapter 5

  Coral thought they should be looking for a chance to escape, despite the stranger’s access to a variety of food. Still, she wondered, not for the first time, what she might be willing to do—to sacrifice—in exchange for one of these meal packets twice a day. Not the use of her sex organs. Not Benjamin’s well-being. But anything else might be negotiable.

  It was a terrible thing to know about yourself.

  If all they needed was for her to do first aid on a few people back at their camp, she could manage that. If they expected her to be able to do surgery or set a compound fracture, her inexperience would be glaringly obvious. And then what? In the new world, your value to a group had to be weighed against your cost to the food supply. There was no room any longer for carrying dead weight. If you were dead weight, you were just dead.

  Kathy collected the empty food bags. Benjamin stopped her from taking the fish heads and bones away as garbage. “It’s good for soup,” he pointed out.

  “Not much meat left on them,” said Jamie.

  “More than we had for many a day,” said Benjamin. “If you don’t want them, we’ll take them back.”

  There was an awkward silence, and Jamie handed the trimmings of the fish to Benjamin. There were fish bones from yesterday stored in one of the burlap bags, and he added these to those.

  Martin said, “So how are we going to sleep? Six in the tent will be crowded.”

  Benjamin said, “We dig a snow cave every night. It won’t take long to do it again.”

  “We need to talk about this,” said Jamie, and not to Coral and Benjamin. “If they stay, we need to set a guard.”

  Martin stayed at the fire to keep an eye on the two of them while the other three moved away into the darkness. Coral heard the murmur of their voices but couldn’t make out any words.

  They came back and Kathy announced their decision. Everyone would sleep in the one tent, and no guard would be needed. Jamie escorted Coral and Benjamin to the latrine, and then they were put in the center of the tent, with a box of four people around them, and the rifles stowed out of their reach.

  It was crowded, and strangely humid with all the exhalations of six people, but not nearly as warm as a snow cave. She and Benjamin, surrounded as they were, were probably the warmest of the group, but she was uncomfortably cold. Benjamin tried to keep his bad arm out of everyone’s way, but she heard him bite off a pained noise when it was jostled as everyone tried to settle in to a more comfortable position.

  The scents of unfamiliar people were disturbing, triggering some animal sense of danger that kept her from drifting off to sleep despite being exhausted. She was the last of them to fall asleep, and as she did, she worried what tomorrow would bring. The worry tainted her dreams, and she woke up twice in the night with pounding heart and the bitter taste of fear in her mouth.

  In the morning she and Benjamin shared their second MRE—too salty and too sweet, by turns—and drank a hot drink each, sharing the one tin cup they had. Be
njamin wanted his with sugar, and when he was done with the cup, she tried the cocoa mix. It was bitter—rancid, she thought—but she gulped it down anyway.

  Again, there was a meeting about them, but as it was after sunrise, the strangers sent the two of them several yards off and had the discussion around the fire. She and Benjamin weren’t near their supplies, so they weren’t going to run with nothing but the clothes on their backs.

  “Do you think they’re deciding whether to kill us or not?” Coral asked Benjamin, speaking barely above a whisper.

  “I think they would have already, had that been their plan,” he said.

  “And not wasted food on us first,” she said.

  “I suspect they’re debating whether to let us go or take us to their home base.”

  “Do you think they’ll give us a choice?”

  “That, I can’t say. What I can say is this. Without the rifle, we don’t stand a chance of surviving out here alone.” He glanced over at the others. “Not for long.”

  She put her back to them. “They won’t hand it back loaded and turn their backs.”

  “No,” he said. “By the way. You and I—we’re married?”

  She felt herself blushing. “I’m sorry. I didn’t have time to discuss it with you, and it was the best I could do at the moment. The thought was, I won’t let another group of crazies separate us.”

  “I’m not complaining. It was quick thinking. But I am a little amused.”

  “Maybe I should learn your last name. And your middle name. And birthday. And parents’ names. In case they quiz me, it seems like stuff a wife would know.”

  He shook his head. “They won’t ask.” He tugged her jacket so he could look right at her. “They want you, not me.”

  “I hope not for what the Seed wanted me for.”

  “No. They want a doctor, that’s obvious. There must be a lot of them.”

  “I’m not a doctor,” she said.