Two Alive, стр. 70

The captain cleared his throat to signal Brandon and he exited, wiping his eyes. Baker went past the emotional man to stand in front of the boys and cut Miles’ zip ties with a knife. “Neat trick with the pens.” The captain then pointed at the pack on Antonio’s back. “Where’d you get the bag and the bat? In the store?”

“Nope, I found it outside.” Antonio backed away. “I’m keeping the bat. And the can of beans I found out there. We found it, it’s ours.”

Baker chuckled. “Ok. Well, keep your bat and your pens to yourself. I don’t want any trouble with you guys. You’re both crazy as hell. And we all owe you our lives for what you did. But I can’t keep letting it slide every time you attempt to attack us.”

Antonio flips off the captain and crosses his arms in defiance.

Baker shook his head and turned to leave but stopped to pull a full canteen of water from his waistband. Before holding it out to the boys, he took a swig in good faith and tossed the steel water container to Miles; who fumbled before catching it. Baker laughed and closed the door behind him, locking it.

The boys were alone in the office again. Miles opened Baker’s canteen and started drinking from it, then Antonio snatched it from him and started gulping it down. “Hey!” Miles complained.

Antonio shoved him. “Why you make all them deals with these people? You know the old man would be pissed.” The teen dropped the backpack he was still wearing and opened it to reveal the canned food that was inside. “You still got that knife they gave us?”

Miles patted himself down, before lifting his shirt, and found the knife hidden in the band of his shorts. “They said they’d give us more food. We need more food and supplies.”

“We can just take what we need and get out of here. These people gon get themselves killed, Miles.” Antonio shook his head and sat down on the floor. “They didn’t even remember you had that knife. They hella dumb. We ain’t stayin’ here.” He used one of his pen weapons and punctured a hole in the can.

Miles hung his head. “I don’t want to stay here. I want to go home.”

“We ain’t stayin’ here.”

“I know.”

It was one of the first things the old man taught them after the world went to shit. Staying with big groups of people always led to everyone dying. It wasn’t that they didn’t want to survive with a group, it just never worked out. The first year on the road, everywhere the old man took them, they’d meet a group, try and make it work and it would fall apart. The old man could always see it coming and would tell the boys to get ready to leave. Then like clockwork, a small issue would turn into a bigger problem and the encampment or the holdup or wherever the group was staying would crumble and people would scatter.

They found the treehouse soon after the last group they tried staying with and the old man made it final, they wouldn’t join anybody else. They’d stay hidden, only take what they needed from the less fortunate and keep a safe distance from large groups of survivors. It had worked up to this point and though times were difficult, the boys and the old man made it for a long time. But then Johnathan died, and the boys didn’t have his guidance to always point them in the right direction. Miles hoped he was making the best decision, but by the look of irritation on Antonio’s face—as he pried open his can of beans and started greedily scooping out helpings with his fingers—the small boy wasn’t as confident in his judgment calls. He wondered what the old man would do in this situation. Johnathan always seemed to know what to do.

Miles pulled his phone from his pocket and flipped at the blank screen, pretending to search for a song though the music was only in his head.

***

Manson made his way down the hall back to his lab, elated by the new turn of events. An opportunity to go out and actually see these different classes of infected was an exciting endeavor. He saw Burrows still waiting outside the bathroom door, pacing back and forth before rushing to the scientist when he saw him.

“It’s about time, doc. I been over here tryna watch this door, worried the captain would find me.” Burrows wiped a nervous sweat from his forehead.

“Calm down, Burrows. And go get some rest, you’re coming with me tomorrow morning on an excursion to find our lost search party.” Manson took the army man by the shoulders and looked him up and down closely.

Burrows just shook him off. “Wait, what are you talking about doc?”

Manson’s lips went from a line to a smirk. “I’ll need my assistant out there with me. You have to come along.”

“Doc, what the hell--” The radio on Burrow’s hip came on and he grabbed it, bringing it to his ear.

“Burrows, where the hell are you man?” A voice called through the receiver.

“I’m on the way.” Burrows shook his head and turned around to leave; taking off to a slow trot.

“I want you out there to help me with my research,” Manson called after him. He also wanted him out there to keep an eye on the soldier and the effects of the vial he had injected him with.