After a few more hours they reached the Warden Street exit. The sign tilted to the side, the structure beneath held up by bent poles and a three-car pile of twisted metal. Ethan imagined it would have been a big fire, by the lines of smoke that had stained the tall sign, but no ash remained by the pileup’s base. Too much time had passed.

Laurence's hand shot up in the air and the group slowed to a staggering stop. “We're making camp. We continue in the morning,” he ordered

Wearily everyone set about their usual tasks. Chandra organized some of the adults together to move debris in a kind of barrier from the rest of the road. There was always lots of stuff hanging around to sleep on but pulling out car seats was a favourite of some of the kids. The Young’s kids, Cally, Shane and Peter, stuck close together and laughed a little while they sifted through the wrecks. Cooper stayed pretty close to Nyssa but they didn’t talk a whole bunch. Not around the adults, anyway.

Wendy tugged at Ethan’s arm, pulling him towards them, but he hesitated as they started a fire. Ethan looked to the roadway as dusk threatened to settle in around them. The light would travel far. The fire was a bad idea, hadn’t they figured that out from the river?

As soon as a few flickering flames took, to the small bundle of paper and dry brush was dashed to low burning embers. It settled Ethan’s nerves enough that he let Wendy lead him forward. Despite all that had happened she was greeted by a few ember lit smiles and chatter.

“Tell them to shut up, lady,” Shannon barked to Chandra from a separate fire.

Chandra took the comment with a frustrated nod and started to corral the kids into silence.

“Ethan, Wendy...” their mom called and Ethan brought Wendy to her. His mother hugged them tightly but he wiggled free when Alice talked about their dad with tears in her eyes. Wendy sat with her, twisting her hair and listening like she didn’t understand.

Ethan took a step back. His mother didn’t notice. Several more put space between them and he relished the dimming of her voice. A pang of guilt threatened to stall his retreat, but Ethan took another deep step until the ember light, and warmth, was beyond him.

He didn’t want the tearful memories. The shaking hugs. Sure, his chest ached each time he pictured his father getting bitten. Dragged to the ground. Screaming struggling as she swung the metal and-

He exhaled and tried to push the memory out. Squinting, frowning, trying with all his might.

He took more steps from his mother’s weak voice and made for the larger fire.

“Oh god, she's spewing everywhere...” Shannon barked as he stood up, silhouetted by the darkening night sky.

Ethan inched closer to the light made. The trackers always had the better fire and kicked any the others had soon after they were made. The kids were told to leave them alone but Ethan's curiosity was strong. He wasn’t deaf, and he could have been with how damn loud Shannon was. But he’d heard them talk about her. The one on the fliers. The fugitive.

By the fire, she lay on her side with a small puddle of sick beside her. She was white, deadly pale, and Reid stood behind her.

“It's just puke, Shannon. I mean, she hasn't eaten anything in two days. Barely had any water and she's still puking up-” Tish stopped short when the next explosion of vomit erupted.

“It's not food.” Reid sighed. “It's... what's left in her, I guess. Not much other than water, bile, and maybe blood.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“Didn't need a description man,” Shannon turned his attention to a can of SPAM. “All I care is that she's alive.”

The woman convulsed silently and another fresh batch hit the pavement. Reid held her forward and checked her wound.

“How is she?” Laurence appeared from behind an overturned van, zipping up his jeans.

“Not worse. Still bleeding a little, but fuck...” Reid ran a shaky hand through his hair. “She’s Level Two infected, she has to be from a bite that bad. She’s got the fever, disorientation, the vomiting, the pallid skin tone and-”

Laurence sighed. “I didn’t ask for a report, Reid.”

“You don’t get it. The infection doesn’t work like this.” With a heavy exhale Reid stood up. “This isn’t some scratch infection that she can fight off with water and a good night's sleep. It’s a bite. From a bloodied, rotting, wendigo. That’s blood to blood, a Level Two infection. She should have died and turned in minutes. Instead, she’s just…”

Laurence shrugged. “She’s sick, I get it. What I need to know is if she’ll make it to the college alive.”

“I don’t know.” Reid scratched the stubble on his chin. “It’s almost like she’s fighting it. Like she’s getting better. But you can’t. No one does.” Reid bent down and pulled off her bandage. “I don’t get it and I can’t guarantee you anything.”

“You're like a broken fuckin' record man. ‘I don't get it! I don't get it!'” Shannon leaned back in a car seat he’d propped up by the fire. “What part of this does make sense?”

“You're getting on my fucking nerves, Shan.” Reid pulled a blanket up over the woman’s shoulder and dragged her away from the mess she'd thrown up.

Shannon chuckled. “As long as she lives until that angel of a plane comes to take me away from this fuckin’ place, I do not give a fuck if you get it. Or if like me for that matter. And if she doesn't live, that's on you, right?”

Reid stood quickly, his fists clenched. “Fuck you, Shannon.” He had bags under his eyes. Ethan tried to remember the last time he saw any of them really sleep but he couldn't.

“We get it. You're both tough.” Tish stood between them. “But can't this wait? We're all tired so just relax.” She sifted through the bag and pulled out a few tins.

Ethan’s tummy rumbled. The food the trackers carried was better; meat in a can or beans in sauce. The cold chickpeas and creamed corn waiting by the ember fire hardly seemed appetizing in comparison.

The can of peaches his dad saved for Wendy’s birthday tumbled from Tish’s pack.

“Oh shit, gimme them peaches.” Shannon lurched forward in the car seat and nearly tumbled out of it.

“Save them for the kids,” Laurence said.

A scoff echoed from Reid and Shannon pouted.

“We could use the sugar,” Tish argued. “And if we’re going the safe route we have another day or two just to get in the downtown limits. We don’t have enough food for everyone.”

A heavy silence fell over the four.

“They're not our problem.” Shannon didn’t look up from the SPAM can he’d peeled open. He sounded less dismissive than normal, his words brutal but not wrong. A bunch of kids, a couple of adults. Ethan wasn’t stupid, he knew they had nothing to offer. Dad was the strongest of us and now look where he is.

“We’re not discussing, Shannon.” Laurence grinned. “But let's remove temptation.” He moved to the pack and picked out the tin. Tossing it into the air twice Laurence looked past the fire and directly to Ethan.

Ethan’s gut dropped. All eyes turned and his cheeks grew hot. Between the bumpers of two cars, he thought he couldn’t be seen, but the light of the fire warmed his cheeks. Part of him wanted to run but as Laurence motioned for Ethan to stand, he did.

“Come here.”

Ethan obeyed and weaved towards the embers with eyes on the peaches.

“Take this to the others.” He handed the can of peaches to Ethan. “Tell them that this, and what the have, is the last of the food for the next two, maybe three days.”

“Thank you.” Ethan’s eyes lingered one last moment on the sick woman as she groaned in her sleep.

The dark hadn't settled yet but the cold was coming. When he appeared the others had already started into the cold chickpeas and corn.

“Peaches?” Chandra looked to Ethan and he brought his finger to his lips. “Where did you get these?” Her eyes darted to the glowing fire far behind.

“They said it was the last they have to share and that we have two more days to go.” He looked to the can of peaches, reluctant to let it go. “Dad saved these for Wendy’s birthday.” The can was fat compared to the others, a “Family Size” label stretched across the front. “She’ll be eight… tomorrow, I think.” Past Chandra, Wendy sat with their mother, picking at a small pile of wet corn in her hand.

“Ethan!” Wendy perked up and waved him over while bouncing on their mother’s lap.

“Then we’ll save them,” Chandra whispered and her hand gently squeezed his shoulder.

He smiled at his sister but took the time to shove the fat can in his backpack, extra careful to keep it from prying eyes.

Make better memories.