Apocalypsis 03 - Exodus

gently shook her awake and coaxed her down off the hood. She moved slowly over to the trailer and curled up in a ball in the bottom, immediately going back to sleep.
    “She doesn’t look good,” said Winky, staring down at her tiny form. Jenny’s freckles stood out in stark contrast to her vey pale face and reddish-brown hair.
    “She’s been sick for a few days,” said Gretchen. “We haven’t eaten much in the last month since they took us from our house. I’m not sure if her problem is lack of food or something else.” She frowned, looking at her.
    “You live nearby?” I asked.
    “We used to live in Miami, near downtown,” said Bianca. “We were neighbors before everything happened. Then we lived together in my house. It wasn’t much, but it was home. Then the sweepers came and started taking kids out, one by one.”
    “Sweepers?” I asked.
    “Yeah. Sweepers. Like those guys,” she said, jerking her thumb to the other side of the road where the bodies lay.
    “I’m almost afraid to ask,” I said.
    Gretchen spoke up. “They come in and sweep kids up and then sell them.”
    “To who?”
    “Anyone with food or other stuff they want.”
    “I’m not sure I get it. I mean, who buys other kids? The canners just eat kids, so why would they trade food for food?”
    “Some kids don’t like to eat people, so they trade with kids who do, for other kinds of food. Stuff in cans and boxes, basically,” said Bianca.
    “That’s just sick,” said Jamal. “What is wrong with people?”
    “We’ve been asking ourselves the same question for months,” said Gretchen. “And I can’t tell you how relieved we are that you are saying it too.”
    “Alright, enough of the chit chat,” said Peter. “We really need to get moving. I’m getting a bad feeling about this place.”
    “You’re just getting a bad feeling now?” I asked, giving him a hard time.
    “Save it, Bryn. And get on your bike. You are the mule today.”
    I looked back at the load that was making me the designated beast of burden. She didn’t look all that heavy. “If one of you wants to get in there with her, you can. I think I can handle it.”
    “We can walk,” said Gretchen, straightening her shoulders.
    “No. No one walks. We share bikes,” said Peter. “Jamal and Ronald, you guys each need to put a girl on the handlebars or something. Walking will slow us down.”
    “Wait!” said Bianca, running back over to the dead guys.
    “What’s she doing?” Winky asked.
    “I’m not sure I want to know,” said Jamal, under his breath.
    She rummaged around in their clothes and came out with knives and guns. She grabbed a backpack off the ground and stuffed everything inside, before taking the other bag sitting under the tree and rejoining us.
    “Sorry. Didn’t want to leave that stuff lying around.”
    I nodded my head. “Good move. You can’t have too many weapons around here.”
    She slung one backpack over her shoulder and handed the other one to Gretchen, who took it reluctantly, a frown on her face.
    “I really don’t even want to touch this thing.”
    “Get over it. It’s a backpack with food and ammo in it. We need it. Consider it a parting gift from the monsters.”
    Gretchen put it on, distaste written all over her face
    “Okay, no more messing around. Everyone on a bike, pronto,” said Peter, snapping his fingers before depositing Buster in my basket and getting on his own bike.
    No one argued with him or complained about his bossiness. It actually was a relief for me to have someone else calling the shots and organizing things. For once I just wanted to follow someone’s orders and do what I was told; that way, I could live with the illusion that everything was going to be just fine, because someone other than me was in charge.
    Ronald had Bianca ride on the bike seat and hold onto his waist while he pedaled standing up. Gretchen rode on Jamal’s handlebars, resting her feet on the strut that was over the tire and gripping the handlebars on either side of her butt.
    “This will work for about a half hour,” said Gretchen, laughing a little at her awkward position. “Then I can’t promise I won’t fall off.”
    “We can take breaks,” said Peter. “But only short ones. I want to get to the prison by nightfall.”
    “Are you crazy?” asked Jamal. “It’s too far. And what happened to avoiding canners while they’re partying?”
    “We’re going to just shoot anyone who gets in our way. No