The streetlamps are long gone, but the townsfolk have put up a few old-fashioned oil lamps around town. They don’t give off much light, but the man steps into what little there is. It doesn’t take much light for me to see how unsavory he looks.
“You need medical supplies, is that right?” he asks, a smirk at his lips.
I nod, but don’t say anything.
Suddenly, the man’s demeanor changes, and he acts like the friendliest person in the world. He waves for me to follow, and I glance around before I do.
“I don’t have a shop,” he says, “but I’ve been keeping supplies just in case. You never know what might happen, and I’m not as young as I used to be.”
The man does more than just creep me out. He seems to be LARPing someone from the Old West instead of realizing that he’s living in an apocalypse. His clothes are ragged enough, but he’s wearing a three-piece suit, boots, and glasses he probably refers to as spectacles. As we get closer to his house, I notice he has an oil lamp of his own, and as I get a better look at him, I realize he’s nowhere near as old as he’s playing at either.
He’s kept his house up despite civilization no longer existing. And it’s a real house, not a shack like most of us live in these days. Everything about this man sets off alarm bells. I’d rather be dealing with some drunken fool whose intentions were obvious than whatever this guy is.
As we walk into his dining room, he lights a lamp, still acting perfectly polite, and then rounds up his medical supplies and puts them on the table while I wait. He has everything David needs, even antibiotics, assuming they still work. I watch as he presents it like a prized treasure.
“What do you have to trade?” he asks, and I try very hard not to scoff.
Still, I open my pack and show him the few things I brought from home.
“It’s all I could get on such short notice,” I say, playing along.
He looks at it and then shakes his head. “I’m afraid that won’t do, my dear.” He steps closer. “No, there’s something else I want.”
There it is. I look at him like I’m confused, which amuses him. Then he runs a finger down the scar on my face, setting it on fire. I try not to flinch, but he sees my expression change, which amuses him even more. He thinks it’s about him. Men like him always do.
I lean into his expectations of my fear and step back, toward the table. Now, I have nowhere to go, which he really enjoys.
“It’ll only take a few minutes,” he sneers.
Yeah, right. Like this guy could last that long. I plead with him to leave me alone, tell him I don’t really need the supplies, but that only makes him laugh. Then I pick up a fancy candlestick he has out as part of his “roleplaying through the apocalypse” set-up and smash it over his head.
The man stumbles backwards, and I hit him again. I keep hitting him until he falls on the floor, and then I hit him a couple more times just for good measure. When I’m sure he’s not going to be getting up any time soon, I quickly sweep all the medicines and supplies into my bags and run out the front door.
I don’t get a hundred feet from the man’s house, though, when someone comes running my way from the main street. This time, I have ample opportunity to dig my knife out of my pack, and I hold it, backhanded, as he runs closer.
The man stops and holds up his hands. Luckily, there just happens to be one of the dim oil lamps between us.
“Step into the light,” I demand.
He complies, cautiously taking a few steps forward. The first thing I notice is that he’s exactly the same height as me. I purse my lips, wondering why I’d think of something like that at a time like this. His eyes are very dark, though that might just be the dim light, but they also seem kind and honest. Still, I know better than to trust that. It’s a good way to get killed.
“My name’s August,” he says, his voice soft and steady. “I heard you needed medical help.”
“Yeah, I’ve heard that one before,” I reply. “Anyway, I’ve got it now.” I pull my pack a little further under my arm.
August nods and starts to put his hands down, but I point at him with my knife, and they go back up.
“I can help you,” he says. “If the man’s been attacked by a bear…”
“Jesus, word gets around fast in this town,” I mutter.
August smiles, an expression that lights up his entire face, and I can’t help but feel a twitch at the corners of my mouth.
“Look, I used to be an EMT,” he says. “Back when that meant something. If you have medical training, then fine, but if you don’t, you’re going to need help from someone who does.”
“Fine,” I finally say with a sigh. “But we need to go tonight.” I glance back at the other man’s house. “Especially now.”
“You didn’t get the supplies from Fred’s house, did you?” August asks me.
“I guess that’s his name,” I answer. “He never gave it. He may never give it to anyone again,” I add. “At least, not until his jaw heals up. So, it’s best we get out of town.”
August’s eyebrows shoot up, and he chuckles. He looks impressed. I like that.
“It’ll be colder out of town,” I tell him, as I pull up the homemade fur hood on my heavy coat.
He nods and quickly ties his long, dark hair in a bun at the back of his neck, and then pulls a thick knit cap out of his coat pocket and slips it over his head.
“It’s not a short walk, either,” I say, and when he nods, I lead the way.
Snow begins to fall as we get to the edge of town. There’s no wind, though, just large, lazy flakes falling to the ground. Still, it piles up fast, and before long, we’re having to trudge through it, making our long walk even harder. I just hope that Stephen holds out long enough for us to get back.
August walks along beside me, and even though he doesn’t even know my name, he doesn’t feel the need to ask me questions or make polite conversation. I like that too.
It’s the wee hours of the morning before the lights from my cabin come into view. We trudge on, the snow up to our knees now, and eventually make it. I can barely feel my legs, and I’m exhausted. We need to get inside and get dry before hypothermia starts to set in.
As I open the door, though, I’m besieged by Charlotte.
“Thank god you finally made it,” she cries. “He’s getting worse, much worse.”