The Tribes, Chap. 4

The Tribes, Chapter 4

By pre-flu standards, Peter’s recovery was slow and moderately complicated by a couple of minor setbacks. But as Amber pointed out, Peter’s injuries would never have been able to become so seriously infected as to become life-threatening. As far as almost everyone in the growing band was concerned, Peter’s slow recovery was nothing short of miraculous and a cause for celebration. Jack was the only one not entirely satisfied with the results of the surgery and Peter’s slow convalescence. He barely slept and ate only when he was forced to. The circles under his eyes grew deeper and darker as he lost weight. Twice he disappeared to forage through several hospitals to find more supplies of saline solution, antibiotics, and medical text books. It took two weeks before Jack finally relaxed enough to give up his almost around-the-clock vigil by Peter’s bed. During Peter’s recovery period, Jack stayed aloof from the others, often falling asleep in the hard chair next to the hospital bed. He abandoned his self-imposed post only once Peter’s fever had passed and the young teen began sitting up and speaking coherently. After, that Jack kept as far from the Pharmacy as he could.

Bray, who had been giving Jack as much space as he could, decided that since Peter was clearly healing that it was time to resume the search for a better permanent home. Amber had been urging him to talk to Jack to bring him out of his funk. Bray thought it best to let Jack work through his emotions on his own. He was certain when the time was right, Jack would open up. Amber hadn’t been so sure that Bray was right, but she was forced to admit he seemed closer to normal as he prepared his exploration gear. Jack didn’t even seem to mind that Dal would be joining them on the next scouting mission. The only real reaction he showed to Dal’s addition was to ask if Dal wanted a cart of his own, or wanted to ride shotgun in one of the other two carts. He spent an entire day modifying each of the two-seater go-carts, adding heavy duty garden wire to the top of the roll cages as protection against any rocks or bottles that might be thrown from above. He announced plans to find a way to add a strong net screen to the open sides of the carts – something strong enough to stop thrown objects, but still easy to slash through in an emergency.

Unlike the others who stood by the Garden Center patio gates waving to the three explorers until they were out of sight, Amber left the group as soon as the two go-carts were halfway across the parking lot. She wanted to talk to Peter about the surgery and try to gauge his attitude now. When he had first regained mental clarity, Peter had become hysterical over the loss of his testicles. He cried and carried on the whole day so badly that Bray and Selene had been forced to restrain him to prevent him from injuring himself. Since then, Peter seemed to have accepted what had happened to him. But Amber wasn’t sure if he was just faking or had really accepted the surgery.

“So, how are you feeling today, Peter?” Amber asked as she came around the end of the aisle.

“’Kay, I guess,” Peter mumbled.

Amber drew the chair up close to the bed, “Oh really? You don’t sound so okay.” She licked her lips and decided to plunge right in. “I think it’s time we talked about your operation.”

“What if I don’t feel like talking?” Peter snapped.

“That’s okay, too,” Amber said amicably. “You can listen while I talk. Since you’ve gotten over the fever, everyone’s been treating you with kid gloves because of the operation. I won’t pretend I can even begin to understand how much of a shock it’s been to you.”

“You want to talk about how I feel, go get your titties chopped off,” Peter turned baleful eyes on Amber, “not that you’d be losing much.”

Amber resisted the natural urge to grit her teeth and bash Peter in the mouth, “Being crude and insulting isn’t going to work, Peter. I’m here to talk about you, not me. I don’t think you understand just how sick you were – if Jack hadn’t operated on you, you would be dead right now.”

“I wish I was,” Peter snarled. “At least I’d still have my balls and be a man.”

“That’s not true,” Amber said. “When Jack operated, your testicles were already dead – and those dead testicles were causing the infection that would have killed you. Dal, Selene, and I knew when we found you that you’d probably die unless we … unless we castrated you. The truth is, that we couldn’t bring ourselves to do it. And to tell you the truth, it wasn’t because we were worried about how you’d feel afterwards – we were all just shit scared to do it. Only Jack had the guts to do what was necessary to save your life.”

“If he has so much guts, how come he stays away from me?” Peter snarled. “I see him sometimes sneaking around the corners of the shelves looking at me. Every time I look in his direction he runs away. He’s a fucking coward.”

“Is that what you think?” Amber asked. “You should have seen how much it bothered Jack to operate on you. It ripped him apart inside. But, you should know something – everything that helped to save your life was brought back here by Jack. He risked his life going into strange Tribe and gang territories to get the right medicines and all the saline solutions that kept you alive.”

“Then why didn’t he find something to save my balls,” Peter demanded. “If he found everything else, how come he couldn’t find the medicine to do that?”

“Because he couldn’t,” Amber snarled, letting her anger flow. “By the time Jack and Bray found us hiding out, it was already too late. Your precious balls were already dead and rotting inside you.”

“You don’t know that,” Peter cried, tears filling his eyes.

“Oh, yes I do!” Amber jumped up from the chair, produced a key to the pharmacy and unlocked the door. After the operation, she had offered to dispose of the refuse to give Bray and Jack a break. On a whim, she had filled a jar with alcohol and saved Peter’s decaying testicles. She figured if what Bray told her was true, Peter might need to see them for himself to realize that nothing, nothing in the world could have saved them. Amber retrieved the jar from its hiding place and stormed back to Peter’s bedside.

“See for yourself you ungrateful pig,” Amber growled, shoving the jar in Peter’s face. “Look at them – would you really want something rotting like that rotting away inside you, killing you slowly? Is that really what you wanted?”

Peter tried to push Amber’s hands away in revulsion, “Get that away from me!” Tears were streaming down his face, “That’s not fair. You’ve got no right to do this.”

“You are so fucking right that it’s not fair,” Amber agreed savagely, thrusting the jar in his face. “It’s not fair that you were beaten up and got caught and tangled up in that razor wire when you tried to jump over it to get away. It’s not fair that we forced Jack to do someone thing that made him sick to even think about, just so we could save your life.” Amber finally put the jar out of sight and softened her tone. “But don’t forget, nothing has been fair since the flu. It’s not fair that the kids aren’t watching Barney, or that you’re not out rollerblading while your mom makes dinner. I should be talking on the phone with my girlfriends about boys and my next date. That’s not fair, either.” Amber sat on the bed and gently stroked Peter’s hair. “Since the flu killed off all the grownups, only one thing that was fair happened – and that’s Jack finding us and saving your life. But, even that wasn’t totally fair – it was fair for us and even for you, but it was horribly unfair for him. He hardly sleeps, and when he does he has nightmares. He feels so guilty because in order to save your life, he had to take something that means so much to you.”

Amber walked away from the hospital bed and suddenly turned, “And do you know what’s really unfair? Jack saved your life and you’re not even grateful for that. Now, that’s unfair.” She stomped away before Peter could answer.

With Dal riding shotgun with him, Bray had taken the lead after leaving the SuperCenter parking lot. They raced ahead, slaloming around cars and trucks left haphazardly in the road. Bray had Dal check behind them from time to time to make sure Jack was following. He harbored a secret fear that Jack might decide to take off on his own. Each time he received a reassurance that Jack was just behind and to the left of them, Bray felt a surge of relief. The further ahead they went, the more gang and Tribe tags they came across. Twice, they actually saw bands of gang members in the distance running towards the sound of their go-cart engines. Each time a burst of speed was all that was needed to easily leave the gangers in the distance. The first two moderate sized malls were clearly occupied and so had to by ignored.

They were halfway through their third hour of searching when they came across the largest mall yet. Hiding the go-carts behind some bushes, the three peered through the branches through binoculars at the building. Dal noticed that the entrance to the Upper Level seemed to be wide open. Training their binoculars on the entrance, Jack and Bray agreed, adding that it looked wide enough for them to drive straight in. Crouching, Jack dashed over to a small stand of trees. Instead of examining the mall through his glasses, he began scanning in the opposite direction. Suddenly, he hurried back and dropped to the ground by Dal and Bray.

“What’s wrong?” Dal asked, beginning to fidget.

“Nothing,” Jack assured him. “It just something seemed familiar here and I just figured out what it is.”

“And that is?” Bray prompted.

“Well, did you notice when we passed through gang and Tribe territories today, only one tag was on buildings and signs?”

“Yeah, that’s how they mark their territories,” Dal answered.

“Right, right,” Jack agreed. “And, around the SuperCenter there’s about a dozen different gang and Tribe tags. It’s like that area is some kind of buffer zone between territories. Well, look around here at the other buildings – it’s the same thing here.”

Bray scanned the area himself, “You’re right, Jack. It does look just like around the SuperCenter.”

“Maybe that means they don’t come in theses areas much,” Dal said, excitedly.

“Could be,” Bray agreed. “Guess we should check the mall out.”

Jack’s only answer was to pull his helmet back on and climb into his go-cart. He waited until both Bray and Dal were seated in the other cart before speeding off and cutting down the hill to the mall parking lot. Following Jack, Bray bounced down the hill and tried to cut him off to be the first to drive through the mall entrance. Bray watched as Jack easily beat them to the entrance and then suddenly go into a sideways skid as he frantically tried to stop his go-cart. Cramping his wheel over hard, Bray decided to overshoot the entrance and come back around. Flashing past the darkened entrance, Bray thought he caught sight of Jack’s go-cart laying on its side.

Bray could feel his heart thumping in his chest as he slowed his cart down and came around in a circle to return to the entrance. Stopping in the parking lot, Bray scrambled out of the cart and dashed into the mall in time to see Jack stagger around the overturned go-cart. Reaching Jack, Bray was shocked to see blood covering the right side of his face. He tried to make Jack sit down on the floor so he could see how bad Jack’s injuries were. Jack, however, kept pushing Bray aside and trying to reach the go-cart.

“Let me go!” Jack demanded. “Got to get the cart turned back over.” He staggered over to the cart and began trying to upright it.

“Don’t worry about that,” Bray cried. “You’re hurt.”

Jack spun back on Bray, explaining patiently, “We have to turn the cart over for two reasons – one, we can’t afford to risk the gas leaking out. And second, the first aide kit is strapped behind the seat – UNDER the go-cart.”

Dal appeared in the mall entrance, “What happened, Jack? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I don’t think anything’s broken – at least it doesn’t feel like it is,” Jack said. “I should have put lights on these carts before we took them out. I couldn’t see much past the entrance – as soon as I got past there, I saw that,” Jack turned and pointed past the overturned go-cart. In the shadows of the mall’s upper promenade Dal and Bray could just make out the shape of a large tow truck that had crashed halfway through the railing of the upper level. “When I saw that, I tried to brake but the floor was too slick and when I turned the wheel … well, I flipped.”

With the three of them helping, flipping the co-cart back on its wheels was easy. Bray insisted Jack take a seat on one of the benches outside the mall so he could inspect the gash on his friend’s head. Bray hoped neither Jack nor Dal noticed how badly his hands were shaking. Wiping the blood away, he saw that the huge gash he had been imagining was in reality only about an inch-and-a-half long. From the amount of blood covering Jack’s face Bray had been afraid that once he’d cleaned the blood away, he’d be looking through a hole exposing Jack’s brains. Bray placed a large gauze pad over the gash and was about to wrap gauze wrap around Jack’s head to keep it in place and keep pressure on the wound. Jack insisted on saving the roll of gauze for a really serious injury, telling Bray surgical tape would do just as well.

Once Bray finished acting “like a mother hen” as Dal put it, the three cautiously entered the mall and examined the tow truck wreck. It wasn’t hard to tell which Tribe had used the truck – Loco symbols were spray painted all over the cab. The driver, what was left of him, had smashed into the wind shield when the truck plowed through the security gate. The desiccated remains of his corpse were still slumped over the steering wheel. It was the twisted remains of the gate that prevented the truck from crashing totally through the mall railing and plummeting to the lower level. Jack suggested Dal bring the other go-cart into the shelter of the mall entrance before the three of them did any real exploring.

While waiting for Dal to return, Bray and Jack shone their flashlights around – what they saw in the cones of light wasn’t encouraging. After finding the tow truck wreck, they had expected to find the mall looted. Looted wasn’t the word for what had happened in the mall, Bray thought pillage was too mild a word for what had happened here. Every store window had been smashed, the mannequins pulled from their stands and savagely pulverized. Walking carefully through the desolation, their feet crunching over the shattered glass, the three explorers were speechless at the mindless destruction they observed. Shredded clothing was strewn here and there, tattered pages of books littered the floor, and miles and miles of videotape festooned the skeletons of the ornamental trees that hadn’t been uprooted. From time to time, each of them thought they heard other feet crunching through the shards of glass, and once Dal was sure he heard the titter of laughter.

They had just started going down the silent escalator when the attack came – dirt clods rained down from all sides as their attackers sprang from their hiding places. Painted figures appeared as if from nowhere, blocking the top and bottom of the escalator. One of the figures mounted the first couple of risers at the bottom of the escalator.

“Surrender or die like dogs where you stand,” the figure screamed in a high-pitched voice, waving a sword in their direction.

When Selene brought Peter his lunch, the young man refused to eat until she brought Amber back. He insisted it was important he talk to her right away. Selene had heard most of what Amber had said earlier – the way their voices had been raised, it had been hard not to hear the heated portion of the exchange. Their voices had echoed through the SuperCenter. Although Selene had agreed with most of what Amber said, she wasn't sure it was such a good idea for she and Peter to get into another shouting match so soon. Peter held steadfast, threatening to throw the soup on the floor unless Selene got Amber right now. Sighing, Selene set the tray with Peter’s lunch on it well out of reach. She figured more shouting was preferable to having to clean up soup slopped all over the floor.

Selene hung back, hiding down the Beauty Aids aisle when she returned with Amber. While she was curious to hear what would happen next, she didn’t want to get caught in the middle of the next fight. Amber squared her shoulders and approached Peter’s bed.

“You wanted to see me?” Amber asked coolly, looking down impassively on Peter.

“Yeah, uh – um, the things you said before,” Peter stammered, his eyes lowered. “Were all those things true?”

“I don’t lie,” Amber said.

“I really would have died unless my balls were cut off?”

“Yes. You’d already be dead if Jack hadn’t operated on you,” Amber said. “You saw the shape your testicles were in. Jack did the only thing he could do to save your life. It’s the exact same thing doctors before the flu would have done, you know.”

Peter nodded, “I don’t think I’d really rather be dead.” Peter finally looked up, his face wet with tears. “And, I decided I don’t want to hate Jack – I really don’t.”

“Of course you don’t” Amber said, warming up to Peter instantly. She sat on the edge of his bed, gently stroking his hair.

“And, you still think I’m a guy – even … even if I don’t .. y’know, have anything down there?”

“Don’t be silly – having testicles doesn’t make you man,” Amber said, hugging the boy. “Being a man comes from what’s in here,” she tapped his chest. “There are lots of guys with stuff hanging between their legs that I wouldn’t call a man, you know. Being a man is about being responsible to others, living up to his word, and things like that. There was a poet named Kipling and he wrote about being a man – he said if you can keep your head when everyone else is going nuts. If you can risk everything you own and lose it and still hold your head up, and not blame others for your own mistakes, then you’re a real man.” Amber shrugged, giving a silly grin. “Of course, he said it a lot better but I can’t remember exactly what how he said it in the poem. I guess I should have paid more attention in English class. Anyway, that’s the gist of what he said.”

Peter stared ahead, unblinking for several moments deep in thought, “I guess it must have been hard for Jack to face me – I mean, it’s not like he’s a professional doctor or anything.” He brightened. “You don’t suppose this place still has Thank You cards, do you?”

Amber smiled, “I’m sure they do. That might be a nice way to break the ice for the both of you – I imagine Jack must be feeling pretty awkward about actually talking to you about now.

Looking around at the figures surrounding them, Dal noticed most of them seemed smaller than the three of them. He nudged Bray and whispered, “I think most of these guys are just kids. And, I don’t think the guy at the top of the escalator has any weapons.”

“They still outnumber us,” Bray whispered back. “They might be able to wrestle us down anyway.”

“Yeah, but I bet they aren’t expecting us to turn and attack them,” Jack joined in. “I think Dal’s got a point. We might be able to rush them … maybe take the guy behind us hostage and get away that way.”

“Hey, you got your tear gas mix with you?” Bray asked, remembering how effective it had been against the gangers who had been beating him.

Jack looked sheepish, “It’s still with the go-cart.”

“Well? Do you surrender or not?” The sword bearer screamed up at them, advancing one step closer.

Bray hefted the heavy metal flashlight in his hand. It would make a good club if he chose to use it as a weapon. Since leaving the camp, he had been ducking and running from gangs and Tribes, and he was getting tired of it. If he and the others were going to survive in this new world, they would have to stand up for themselves and fight sooner or later.

“We didn’t come here to fight,” Bray shouted. “We didn’t know this is your territory … I swear we didn’t mean to cause problems. We’ll just leave the way we came, alright?”

“Surrender or die!” The sword wielder screamed again.

“Welcome to later,” Bray sighed to himself. He leaned closer to Jack and Dal, “I’m tired of running and being pushed around. I say we attack.” Shifting his grip on the flashlight, Bray hefted it like a club and opening his mouth as wide as he could, bellowed loudly as he charged down the escalator steps.

Jack and Dal were barely a step behind Bray, holding their flashlights like clubs, screaming like banshees. Jack saw Bray effectively block the first blow from the sword. But, watched in horror as the next swing, aimed at his neck, slipped past Bray’s defense. Jack instinctively knew the blow would connect before he could reach Bray’s side. His banshee scream turned into a howl of dismay as he saw the sword connect where Bray’s neck joined his shoulder

Bray felt the sword hit his neck solidly, pain rocketed through his neck. Before his mind registered that something wasn’t right about the blow, he swung his flashlight backhanded catching the sword wielder square on the jaw. He saw his attacker’s eyes roll up in his head, moments before his face was pelted with small hard objects and a spray of blood. The sword wielder collapsed backwards, tumbling ass over heels down to the lower mall floor. Bray reached up to feel his neck to see how bad the damage was when Jack shoved him down to a sitting position, screaming wildly.

“Dal … Bray’s bleeding … first aid … here,” Jack bellowed. Bray had a brief flash of Jack’s face pale in horror and then the little teen was leaping to the lower level, kicking at the fallen sword attacker and cursing.

Bray had just managed to climb back to his feel when Dal was by his side, shoving him back down and wiping the blood from his face. Suddenly, Dal stopped – there was blood on Bray’s face, but it wasn’t spurting from any wounds. It didn’t make sense until Dal realized the blood on Bray had come from his attacker. Bray stumbled to his feet and hurried down to where Jack was crying and continuing to kick the gang leader. Bray struggled to pull Jack away and became aware that instead of attacking his group, the rest of the gang was chanting. He finally got Jack under control and strained to hear the words being chanted.

“No fair, no fair, no fair,” the gang chanted over and over.

“It’s plastic,” Dal said in wonder, coming up to them with the sword in his hand. Bray and Jack stared at the sword in amazement – it was nothing but a plastic child’s toy.

“What the hell is going on here?” Bray said softly in confusion. Jack broke away from Bray and was on his knees by the sword wielder, examining the attacker in concern.

“He can’t be more than twelve,” Jack said over his shoulder. He ran his fingers gingerly over the young ganger’s jaw probing it. “I don’t think it’s broken, but he’s lost some teeth,” Jack said, lifting the boy up into a sitting position. One of the gangers, a skinny boy of about six with tangled red hair and a dirt streaked face, ran up to Jack and punched him in the back.

“You broke the rules,” the boy said accusingly. “No fair kicking – it’s against the rules.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Jack said, trying to brush the boy away as he patted the unconscious boy’s face in an attempt to bring him around.

“You said a bad word,” the boy said in horror as he backed away from Jack. “You’re not good person.” He started backing away. “I tell Bubba on you,” the boy threatened before dashing off into the shadows.

Bray stared around at the faces peering at him from both levels, shining his flashlight from face to face. None of them could be more than twelve years old. There was something else about the faces staring down at them – they all had strange expressions. It was like – and then it hit Bray. It was like the blank expressions he’d seen on mentally challenged kids in the Special Ed classes back in his school before the flu. These kids were taking in the events around them, but they weren’t able to process the information they were getting.

Dal squatted by Jack, pulling gauze sponges from the first aid kit and trying to pack them in their erstwhile attacker’s mouth to staunch the bleeding before cracking an ammonia capsule under the boy’s nose. Curiosity began to overcome the gang and they forgot their chanting as they edged closer to Dal and Jack to see what was happening. Bray grabbed one of the older children – a girl and held her tightly as he crouched down to put his face level with hers.

“Who are you kids?” Bray demanded. “Are you guys all on your own?” The girl stared at Bray, fear growing on her dirty face. “Answer me – who are you kids?” Instead of answering, the girl began bawling, tears streaking down her filthy face.

“Let her go!” An angry voice roared from behind him.

Turning Bray found himself facing a girl about his own age. Already some of the children had grouped protectively behind her. “What are you idiots doing?”

“Us?” Jack twisted around in surprise. “They attacked us.”

“He’s right,” Dal said defensively. “We were defending ourselves.”

The girl shook her head sadly as she hurried over to Jack and the sword wielder who was just beginning to come around amid whimpers of pain. She examined the boy’s damaged mouth and the first aid attempts by Jack and Dal. She snorted in disgust, shaking her head angrily.

“I tell them and tell them to be careful,” the girl muttered. “No matter how often I tell them to stay away from strangers, they just can’t remember.” She looked up at Jack. “They were just playing pirates again. They didn’t mean any harm.”

“We wouldn’t have hurt them if we’d have known that,” Jack said defensively. “He had a sword and in this dim light it looked real. He attacked Bray and all I saw was blood and I thought Bray was hurt …” He trailed off, as tears filled his eyes.

“Hey, it’s not your fault,” the girl said, caressing Jack’s cheek comfortingly. “You couldn’t have known they were just playing a game.”

“So who are these kids, anyway?” Bray asked squatting by Dal’s side.

“They call themselves the Lost Boy and Girl Tribe,” the girl said. Suddenly, she extended her hand, "I’m Belinda –most of the kids call me Bubba.” Bray made introductions for their group, Belinda giving each a friendly smile. For the first time she noticed the bandage on Jack’s forehead. “Did the kids do that?”

“What – oh, this?” Jack laughed self-consciously. “No, I kind of did that when I crashed my go-cart.”

“So, Belinda, what’s the deal with these kids?” Bray asked. “They all seem – well, ah . . .”

“Kind of mentally challenged?” Belinda finished. She looked around at the faces peeping from around hiding places. “They are. All of them got the flu and survived – kind of. The flu caused such high fevers in them that they got kind of brain fried. They can’t seem to understand the world is dangerous now. When the grownups were gone, there were about eighty of them. We’re down to thirty now.”

“What happened?” Dal asked in shock.

Belinda shrugged fatalistically, “Some eventually died from complications of the flu. Some died in accidents, and the rest – well, they did the same thing with other gangs that they did with you lot today. Only thing is most of the gangs and Tribes around here seem to enjoy harming – and doing worse – to other weaker kids.”

Belinda described the type of existence the Lost Boys and Girls Tribe had been living – hiding out in various abandoned malls, grocery stores, and even a ToysRUs store once. Even though she and three others tried to look after the kids, the truth was that the kids themselves just wandered from place to place once they got tired of their present surroundings. Belinda explained she preferred the malls because they offered more hiding places and so many different ways of escape from the Tribe and gang raids.

Bray explained their mission to find a mall suitable to move their band into. Belinda snorted, explaining that most of the malls had already been raided by the Tribes. Describing how the Tribes had used large trucks to smash down the security barriers until they couldn’t find any more fuel for the vehicles. But, by that time, almost everyone of the local malls had been raided, their security gates battered down, and the large display windows on the ground levels smashed to pieces.

“Well, that’s our plan royally screwed,” Jack sighed.

Belinda confirmed their thoughts that they were presently in a sort of buffer zone between the various gang and Tribe territories, and was subjected to periodic raids from the different groups. According to her, the Locos were among the most dangerous and territorial. Tribe Circus, on the other hand was hard to predict – they dressed in circus costumes and could sometimes be almost friendly, and at others as dangerous as the Locos. The Tribe Circus leader, known as Top Hat, was mentally unbalanced she explained, and that accounted for the mercurial changes in attitude.

Bray described the SuperCenter to Belinda, without giving its specific location, offering to open their refuge to Belinda, her friends and the kids. Dal and Jack nodded in silent agreement with Bray’s offer. The girl smiled and shook her head sadly. She explained that the kid Tribe wandered along their own path, ignoring Belinda and the other older teens as they chose.

“Not all the Tribes are dangerous,” Belinda explained. The offer of refuge had been made before and even tried once. When the members of the Lost Boys and Girls Tribe grew restless, they just drifted off and hysterically resisted any attempt to make them stay.

As they were getting ready to leave, Jack dug through the first aid kit, giving Belinda a precious bottle of lidocaine to apply to the sword boy’s gums. He explained the thick liquid would numb the pain the boy was bound to be feeling when he fully came to his senses.

Sitting under the shade of the trees at the edge of the parking lot after leaving the mall, Jack, Dal, and Bray discussed their options. From what they had learned, the hopes of finding a mall intact as a permanent refuge seemed futile. Bray considered the merits of staying at the SuperCenter, musing out loud as he listed the pros and cons. For now, the SuperCenter provided a safe haven from outside attacks. But, the SuperCenter could just as easily become a prison, and that was a serious shortcoming as he saw things.

“I don’t understand,” Dal said. “The whole point is to keep the Tribes and gangs out.”

“That’s true,” Bray admitted. “The problem is that any moderate sized Tribe can guard the few exits at the SuperCenter and keep us from getting out.”

“So?” Dal asked, shrugging his shoulders. “We’ve got provisions, we’d be comfortable and they’d still be stuck outside.”

“But maybe not for long,” Jack said. “When we found the SuperCenter, it was locked up tighter than a drum. I scaled a drainpipe and came in through a skylight. Those things are all over the place. It wouldn’t take long for attackers to get in through them.”

“Exactly,” Bray agreed. “And, they could do worse – what if they decided to set fire to the building. They could easily cover the few exits from the building and either capture us as we came out . . .”

“Or, worse yet,” Jack finished, “prevent us from escaping.”

“Right, and that’s why we have to find someplace more secure and with more exits,” Bray said.

“What you’re describing is some kind of fort,” Dal said.

“Well, maybe not a fort,” Bray said. “But, definitely someplace a Tribe can’t totally surround.”

The three decided to explore a little further afield and return to the SuperCenter in the morning if need be. It quickly became clear that they wouldn’t be spending the night away from the Super Center. The farther out they went, the more evidence they saw of active gang and Tribe occupation. Both Jack and Dal were more than happy when Bray suggested that the wisest course of action was to return to the SuperCenter and discuss their options with the rest of their band.

They had just crossed out of the buffer zone as they retraced their path back to the SuperCenter when Jack suddenly shot ahead of Bray and Dal. Both looked around wildly, thinking a Tribe had suddenly appeared behind them. Instead, Jack drifted slightly out of their immediate path as he braked hard, his go-cart fish-tailing slightly. He jumped out of the cart as if in a trance. Pulling to a stop, Bray ran to Jack’s side.

“What’s the matter?” Bray demanded. ‘Why’re you stopping?”

At first, Jack didn’t answer. He just stood staring upwards. Slowly, he turned his head in Bray’s direction a huge grin across his face, his blue eyes twinkling.

“We’ve been going in the wrong direction,” Jack finally whispered.

“Huh?”

Jack answered by lifting his arm, index finger pointing at a billboard. At first, Bray didn’t understand what had fascinated Jack so much. The billboard was so covered in Tribe tags as to be almost illegible. Staring hard, the Jack finally saw past the Tribe spray paint and recognized what had caught Jack’s attention.

“You think?” Bray asked.

“I do,” Jack said, as if reading Bray’s mind. “And, I’ll bet it’s deserted. It might have been looted, but that shouldn’t matter too much. It meets our needs – it can’t be surrounded, steel doors to keep unwanted visitors out … it’s perfect.”

Dal, had had wandered up behind them, still couldn’t see past the Tribe tags and didn’t understand what the other two were talking about. “Will one of you explain what the hell you’re babbling about?”

Bray smiled, “Look past the graffiti, Dal. Look at what’s under all the paint.”

Staring hard, Dal shook his head – he still didn’t understand what had Jack getting all orgasmic. “I still don’t understand it,” he complained. “All I see is some old boat.”

“Not any boat,” Jack said, his excitement growing. “That’s the Queen Mary.”

“Okay, that’s the Queen Mary,” Dal said. “So what?”

“So, she’s sitting at a permanent berth,” Jack said, his excitement growing. “She was turned into a hotel with a shopping mall. We can close the steel doors and keep anyone out – there’s no way anyone could get in unless we want them to get in.” Jack turned to face Dal. “And, there’s no way any Tribe can totally surround her – if worst comes to worst, we’d have a way out. But, I don’t think we would ever need to do that.”

Jack wanted to head immediately to Long Beach, bypassing the SuperCenter and investigate the ship right away. It took all of Bray’s persuasive efforts to convince Jack it was getting too late to be sure they’d reach the ship in safety and that it was best to spend the night at the SuperCenter. In the end, he managed to just barely convince Jack to wait just one more day.

They returned to the SuperCenter just as the sun was setting. Concern over the bloody bandage on Jack’s forehead was quickly overshadowed by Jack’s growing excitement. Instead of calming down on the trip home, Jack had driven himself almost into a frenzy. He’d obviously concentrated more on the possibilities the Queen Mary offered as a refuge than on the obstacles parts of the road had offered. Bray shook his head in wonder – it was a wonder Jack managed to get back in one piece without a major accident. Jack was stuttering so badly and darting from one place to another in the SuperCenter that Bray was forced to explain everything to the others.

Everyone was horrified to hear about Jack’s accident, and worried that he could have been seriously injured. For a moment, they completely overlooked the fact that Jack hadn’t suffered serious injuries. But, one look at him bouncing from place to place in the SuperCenter was enough to convince them that it would take more than a bump on the forehead to keep him down.

Bray kept descriptions of the Lost Boy and Girl Tribe to a minimum. There wasn’t anything the band could do for them now, from what Belinda had said, and he knew Heather and Amber would worry needlessly about the kids. Then, he described Jack’s discovery of the billboard on the return home. As soon as he described what little he already knew about the Queen Mary, everyone was abuzz with excitement.

Once Bray was finished with his news, Amber described her encounters with Peter earlier in the day, asking Bray to help her force Jack to sit down with the boy right away. She knew his excitement at working out the problems concerning the Queen Mary would end soon enough and was worried that his former depression might return.

“I have to tell you, Bray, Jack’s accident might not have been entirely an accident,” Amber confided in him.

“You think he did it on purpose?” Bray asked incredulously.

“No, not consciously,” Amber admitted. “But, have you ever known him to be so reckless and careless?” Bray thought about it and had to shake his head. If anything, Jack was the most cautious of the group. “I thought not,” Amber said. “I think he might have been unconsciously trying to punish himself. Put himself at risk, if you know what I mean.”

Bray had to admit Amber might have a point. The two of them hunted through the SuperCenter until they found Jack laying out heavy duty batteries and powerful camp lanterns. His enthusiasm quickly died when Bray suggested it was time for him to see Peter. Jack immediately got a hunted look in his eyes, licking his lips nervously and making evasive excuses for why he couldn’t do that right now. Bray clamped a hand on Jack’s shoulder, announcing he was capable of carrying Jack up to the Pharmacy to see Peter if he had to do so. Grumbling and clearly nervous, Jack’s shoulders slumped as he allowed Bray to lead him towards the front of the store. Bray kept his hand on Jack’s shoulder and could feel the poor guy trembling.

Rounding the corner to the Pharmacy, Jack once again began thinking up excuses for doing something else. As soon as he saw Peter staring in his direction, Jack actually started dragging his feet. His trembling became so violent that for a moment Bray was afraid the little guy might collapse. Heather, Amber and Selene were waiting by the side of the bed, smiling encouragement in Jack’s direction.

“Hey,” Peter called. “It’s about time we met face to face.” He waved a bony hand around the other four members of the band. “They all tell me you saved my life.”

Jack stopped dead in his tracks, his face a mix of confusion and fear. Peter’s words were friendly enough, even though his voice seemed a bit stained. Jack just didn’t know what to say, and when he tried to open his mouth to say something, he found he couldn’t. He just stood there, eyes round in nervousness.

“I’d like to talk to Jack alone,” Peter told the others. He watched the others retreat before pulling an envelope from under the sheets and holding it out to Jack. “Go ahead,” he encouraged when Jack seemed reluctant to take it. “I swear it’s not a letter bomb. It’s just a thank you card.”

Blinking rapidly, Jack stepped up to the bed and took the envelope in trembling fingers and opened it, “I don’t understand.”

“Amber told me how you were upset and afraid I would hate you,” Peter said evenly. “And, to tell the truth, at first I did. I was all mixed up about things.” Suddenly, Peter’s hand darted out and closed around Jack’s wrist. Jack yelped in surprise as Peter jerked him closer and wrapped his thin arms around Jack’s neck. “You saved my life,” he whispered, his voice starting to choke up. “You did it even though you were afraid to, thank you.”

Peering around the corner of the cough syrup shelves, Amber watched as both boys melted into tears in each other’s arms – each stuttering and explaining their conflicting emotions. Smiling, she turned to the others and tiptoed away with them. Everything would be alright between the two now, and more importantly, maybe Jack’s emotional roller coaster would coast to a stop.

An hour later, Amber peeked in on the two and found them laughing as they chatted. The laughter was still on the nervous side, but it was clear they were both much more relaxed than they were earlier. For the first time since the terrible impact of the flu had hit her, Amber began to feel there might just be more than a little hope for a new future.

To be continued …