The World Without Flags

I laugh at that, but this time, it’s more natural. I feel a tug at my leading rope, so I turn and follow Eric who had walked ahead while we paused. He hits his shoulder on a tree as he passes.

“Unh,” he says to it.

“Careful, Eric,” I say. I walk ahead and try to guide him on a straight path through the trees ahead.

I have to keep watching him. He could hurt himself. I feel bad for joking around with Pest when I should have been watching him. Pest walks a little ahead, and I can’t help but look at him sometimes, his curly hair, his careful movements through the forest. He certainly doesn’t move like someone his age. He moves like someone with a lot of experience. But I guess we all have that kind of experience now. I remind myself that he and the goon squad were alone out here for a long time before they found the Homestead. I know a lot less about Pest than I’ve realized. Still, it’s strange to watch him. I get that old spooky feeling I’ve always had with him. There’s more to him than I know. I tell myself to keep an eye on him.

There’s just something not right with that kid, I can feel it.

106

Late in the afternoon, we come across a town. Or settlement. Whatever you want to call it. We come out of the woods on a hill, and there it is below us, a few houses, a barn, and several badly-made shacks. There’s a ramshackle wall around the whole place and outside the wall, surrounding the whole place, is a big agricultural field. It just takes a moment to realize that something is wrong. It’s the sound that does it, or lack of it, to be exact. It’s completely silent. A settlement like this should be busy, bustling with people. There should be shouts and calls and ringing bells. But there’s nothing but silence. Not even the wind makes a sound as it passes through.

We crouch down and Pest grabs Queen. He hisses for her to stay while he rummages for his binoculars. Queen whines a little and then licks her jaws and sits reluctantly. I turn Eric toward a tree so he doesn’t wander off. Eric pushes his face into the bark of the tree.

“What do you see?” I whisper to Pest as I crouch next to him.

“Nothing yet,” he responds. “But those fields are newly planted. This was a place where people lived recently. I just don’t—” he makes a hissing sound and then sucks a tooth. “Shit,” he says, dropping his binoculars.

“What?” I ask. Pest hands the binoculars to me as an answer. I lift them and then focus. I don’t see anything at first, just lopsided shacks, piles of wood, and a well-kept street between them, asphalt that’s been brushed and weeded to keep from breaking up. I sweep over a human form and have go back.

I know right away the person is infected. He stands unnaturally stiff, one of his arms hanging as if useless, the other at a strange, crooked angle. He doesn’t move. Then I see another one, shuffling across the road, her jaw hanging open. She walks hunched forward and I see that one of her arms is torn off. Her dress is stained black on one side.

“Damn it,” I say, handing the binoculars back to Pest.

Pest stands up and he has that look that I recognize. He’s thinking. He rubs his chin with his hand like an old man scratching his beard and I get that same spooky feeling I get when I watch him. For a moment, I can’t tell if he’s twelve or forty. “I have to go in,” he says suddenly, looking up to me and snapping me out of it.

“Why?” I ask incredulously. “We can just walk to another place.”

“No, we can’t,” he argues. “We need to get Eric boots. It’s not just the wound he has. He could get another one real easily. What’re we going to do if he hurts himself? Besides,” he continues, “we can’t run out of food. I need to get in there, get what we need, and get back here.” He’s right. We need food and Eric is one mis-step away from being crippled.

“Well, you’re not going alone,” I say.

“There’s no need to risk both of us,” Pest argues. “You stay here and watch Eric and I’ll be right back.” He starts to move away, but I grab his arm. He turns back.

“I said,” I reiterate, my voice low and dangerous, “you’re not going down there alone.”

We glare at each other until his shoulders relax a little and I see that I’ve won. I feel a touch of triumph and then I think about it and I’m not sure I should be happy.

Now I have to go down there.

107

There are infected people everywhere. Some of them stand with their jaws hanging open without moving. Some of them shuffle randomly around the town. Some of them are sitting in chairs, as if waiting. Their eyes are dark and waving with pale worms. Men, women, even children. There must be a dozen of them here. I guess it must have happened quickly because they don’t look as emaciated as Eric. If it wasn’t for their rigid, unreal walking and their black eyes squirming with worms, I might think they were people, enjoying a sunny, spring day. But they’re not.