like,” she said. “We’ll talk again in the morning.”
I lay down on the soft mattress, the cool sheets like heaven against my skin, and soon sank into a deep relaxation, lured to sleep by the soft ticking of the clock downstairs.
In my dreams I ran through the woods, chased by slagpaw. One of them towered over me, I flinched as it swept me up in its shaggy arms, which became a cloud of ash, swirling so thick I couldn’t breathe, lifting me into the sky before letting me plummet back down into suffocating depths.
When I woke again it was light outside. I lay still, steadying my heartbeat and trying to find my bearings. In the small room, it was almost possible to believe I was in the Before, getting ready to go to school, playing sports outside, without worrying about the monsters and poisons that haunted my dreams. But that illusion faded as soon as I lifted the shutters and peered outside. The dark clouds and heavy gray ash bloated out the horizon; all I could see were a few blocks of ruined, overgrown houses.
I went downstairs to find Trevor sprawled out on the sofa and Luke on a blow up mattress across the room. April and Jazmine were in the kitchen, putting together a jigsaw puzzle of kittens.
“Sleep well?” Jazmine asked.
“There’s food in the kitchen,” April nodded, putting a piece in place.
My eyes widened at the spread. Apple slices, cereal and fresh milk, which was rarer than honey and far more expensive. Jazmine shrugged.
Mrs. Hartmann came downstairs, wearing silk pajamas and a flowing robe.
I kicked Trevor and he got up suddenly, displacing the quilt that had been covering his bare torso.
“Put some clothes on,” I whispered. “We’re guests here.”
Mrs. Hartmann poured herself some coffee and settled into a large chair by the wood stove in the corner.
“Now,” she said finally. “That you’ve rested, you can tell me what you’re doing way out here.”
“How much to you know about, what’s going on out there? The citadel, the compounds... the elite?”
“Bits and pieces,” she said, waving her hand. “Zombie apocalypse and all that.”
“Well the thing is,” I said, “we know your husband was a scientist. We think he was working on something that could fix all of this. Did he have a lab, or some research, somewhere in the house?”
“You’re free to look around,” she said. “Honestly I never understood most of my husband’s work.”
She showed the way to his office, a wide oak desk by the window, with a computer terminal like I’d seen in the citadel. A green fern sprouted in front of the built-in bookcase.
I cursed, looking at the machine. Of course his research would be on one of these. I had no idea how to access the files or information.
“They’ve got these all over the old city,” April said, taking a seat behind the desk. “I know the basics.” She showed me how to move the cursor on the screen, click the mouse and type in a keyword to search.
“Maybe it’s best if you do it,” I said, turning towards the bookshelf and file cabinet.
I got lost in medical research articles and other scientific text, barely understanding any of it but hoping for something useful. Then I got distracted with travel magazines for awhile.
By the time I looked up again, Trevor was at the door holding some sandwiches.
“Yeah,” I said, “in a minute. Did you know they used to fly all over the world, for just a week, to eat different foods and tan their skins?” But he was already gone down the empty hallway.
I spent all day looking through the office bookshelves. I didn’t notice it was night until Trevor came in with a candle and sat down beside me.
“It’s time to get some sleep Em,” he said.
“Why, what time is it?” I asked, glancing outside. When had it gotten dark? The table had been cleared, and a plate of chicken, vegetables and some bread were cold on the counter.
“I missed dinner?” I asked. “Or lunch?”
“Something is weird about this place,” Trevor said. “I felt so tired earlier, I took a nap. And I’m not the only one.” He nodded at Luke, asleep on his cot, with his mouth open.
“That’s probably normal after all the food she’s been giving us.”
“Yeah but where does it all come from? Bread, butter? I don’t think the local farms deliver fresh produce. Plus, isn’t she elite? Why does she even have any food, if she lives by herself?”
“We’ll leave soon,”