Haven Chapter 11

Chapter 11

            ‘So what do we tell them when they get here?’

            ‘Who says they’ll make it here?’

            ‘Don’t talk like that! We have to believe they’ll come back to us, I have to believe that…’ Lauren’s voice trailed off as uncertainty took hold. What if Andria was right? It had been two days since they had left the police station, and there was still no sign of Chris or the others.

            Some of the others, like Lauren, still held on to the hope that they survived. Others, like Andria, thought they were in denial, and with their hope for their friends’ survival there energy seemed to have gone too. Almost everyone wondered around the warehouse, they couldn’t think of anything to do. On the first day Lauren and a few others had wanted to go and look for them, but when they did they saw smoke coming from the station. That meant either they didn’t make it out in time, or they escaped, and there was no way they would find them without make the situation worse.

            A few people though, Nicole, Monica, and Brooke among them, coped by keeping themselves busy. Nicole had two new patients to tend to, and got herself set up in one corner of the warehouse. Brooke started keeping watch day and night, all by herself. Nobody was getting much sleep anyway. She and Monica had also set up a shooting range outside, using some paintball equipment they had found inside, but they were the only ones who used it.

            Will and Andria had originally tried to boost moral by cooking some of the last non-dehydrated food they had and make the warehouse feel more comfortable. But after Malcolm’s condition worsened Andria didn’t have the strength to try, and without her support Will quickly fell into the same state of melancholy as the rest of them.

            And now, as the sun set on their third day at the warehouse Daniel and Lauren sat by the window, barely touching their food, lost in their thoughts. Were they ever going to see their friends again? And if they didn’t how long would it be until their new home was no longer safe, and once again they would have to run, and risk losing even more friends.

…

            The nights were difficult in the warehouse, the thin metal walls did little to keep out the cold and it was almost June. With the generator either lost or destroyed they couldn’t power the heaters, and the blankets they had brought along were hardly abundant. It was these times that Lauren missed Chris the most, she missed cuddling close at night, sharing each other’s warmth and love. She wondered whether she would ever feel truly safe and warm again.

            Apart from the sound of the wind blowing against the walls the warehouse was silent. Scattered throughout it the group slept, or at least tried to. And high above them on the rooftop Brooke sat, huddled in the thickest blanket they had and watched. For two nights things were quiet, if it wasn’t for the smoking of the burning police station and the knowledge of the dead wandering around Brooke might even say it was beautiful.

            Tonight however, things would be different.

…

            I couldn’t give up, I would never give up. There was too much to live for, Lauren, Will, all of my friends were counting on me. We caught our breath in regular stops, but slowly we walked, quietly, careful not to attract any attention. Our radios had been damaged in the escape, we couldn’t communicate to the others or even let them know we were alive. For the two nights we had to make it through alone we stayed in the most intact house we could find, and ate what little food remained that we could trust to be healthy.

            On the third night however, we didn’t stop moving, we were so close now, so close to everything we were fighting for: our friends, our loved ones, and the hope for a new home.

            I stopped our group a few kilometres short of the warehouse, seeing the huddled figure on top. I had no doubt it was Brooke, or maybe Monica, with a rifle aimed right at us. I breathed a sigh of relief, they had made it, all through this trip I worried that the others hadn’t made it too the warehouse, or worse that when they got there it was already inhabited, either by the dead or by the marauders. Without a way to show it was us in this darkness there was no way we were getting inside until sunrise. But there was no way to know if it really was one of us in there, but I had to believe that, I just had to prove it was me. Luckily I had thought of this, and grabbed the last working flashlight we had on us.

…

            Brooke aimed the rifle carefully, using the scope to get a good aim, even though in this low light it was hard to tell. She carefully, without taking her eyes off the unknown figures, took out a pair of scissors and cut the string next to her.

            Inside a group of empty cans strung together fell to the floor with a loud clang, and everyone jolting awake, hose that were asleep anyway. Quickly they all gathered in the office room and armed themselves the best they could.

            ‘Brooke come in,’ Andria spoke over the radio, ‘is it the dead Brooke? Are we evacuating?’

            ‘It’s not the dead,’ she answered, her voice crackled through the radio, ‘at least I don’t think it is’

            Lauren grabbed the radio off Andria, ‘is it them? Is it Chris is he alright?’ She fired off question quickly. Andrial thought to snatch the radio back off her but thought the better of it as he saw how tightly she clung to it.

            ‘I don’t- hang on,’ Brooke stopped talking as she tried to make out the object that was being lit up in the distance, after a while it started to move forward, and eventually she got her answer and her heart jumped in her chest as she recognised the license plate from Connor’s car.