up by the time Red was ten. And while Dad still enjoyed a walk in the woods, he usually wore sneakers while doing it and it had been quite a while since he’d carried a pack full of gear. They both needed sturdy waterproof boots and rain shells and sleeping bags. There was a sporting goods store in town that carried all of those things, and so it was proposed that they take a trip to acquire them.
“No way,” Red said, when Dad announced that they were all piling into the car for this purpose.
Dad just looked at her with that patient way that he had, and waited for the explanation.
“As Adam pointed out yesterday, more than half the stores were closed last time he was in town—what, two weeks ago?” Red said. “That means there’s been an outbreak here too—we’ve just been lucky enough to avoid it. I don’t think it’s a good idea to go into population centers unless we absolutely have to.”
“I can’t hike in my sensible three-inch heels, Delia,” Mama said.
“Well, you shouldn’t start such a long walk wearing shoes you haven’t broken in, either,” Red said. “You were worried about me getting blisters. If you try to hike three hundred miles in new hiking boots you will definitely get blisters.”
“Okay, fair point,” Dad said. “But we still need sleeping bags and rain gear and packs to carry it all in.”
“What about your old stuff?” Red asked. “Isn’t it in the attic?”
“We sold all that on Craigslist a few years ago,” Mama said. “It was just taking up space in there.”
Red refrained from asking why they had sold useful things, like camping gear, but left so much random crap (like her little red wagon from childhood and three different models of lawn mowers, only one of which actually worked) in the shed outside. That wasn’t the point, really. The point was to keep them away from town. If they went into town they might be infected.
“The whole point and purpose of this plan is to avoid large groups of people and places where there might be infection,” Red said.
“I understand what you’re saying, Red, but we’re not remotely prepared for this. We aren’t like you,” Dad said. “We aren’t even like Adam, who at least has camping gear.”
“What if there are government soldiers there?” Red said. “Sweeping the area for survivors to take to one of their quarantine points?”
“So what?” Adam said. “Then we go to the quarantine. I’d rather go to a camp than on this loony trip through the woods to Grandma’s house, anyway.”
“You’d rather be imprisoned by the government in a place that is a breeding ground for illness instead of walking free and healthy?” Red asked.
“We’re not going to make it, anyway,” Adam said. “We’ll get about twenty or thirty miles or so and then one of us won’t be able to walk anymore, and when we stop for the night some platoon will see our fire and pick us up anyway. Let’s just skip the long hike and go straight to camp.”
“We already decided, Adam,” Dad said, frowning at him. He held up his hands to Red. “And it’s already been decided that we’re going to town to get the gear we need, Red. If you and Adam want to stay here and avoid possible infection you can do that, but Mama and I must go.”
“I don’t think we should be separated,” Red said immediately. That was another thing that always happened in stories. People were always like, “You wait here while I go check out some meaningless thing two miles away,” and guess what? They never came back and then their party would have to go on a foolish search that would endanger everyone.
Red knew that if Mama and Dad went into town alone, they wouldn’t return. Something Would Happen. But if they all stayed together, then everyone would be perfectly fine. Those were the Apocalypse Rules, and Red was going to abide by them until they were all delivered safely to Grandma’s doorstep.
It never occurred to Red that Grandma wouldn’t be there when they arrived. Even though hundreds, maybe thousands, of people