Роберт Уилсон - Days Since... - Jenny - Day 986

“How many have we done this month?” Jenny asked.

“Next house will be forty-one,” Danny answered after counting the tick marks across the map. “Pretty good run, I’d say.”

“Doesn’t feel like that many,” she said, thinking back on what Danny had mentioned earlier about her being a little sluggish lately. I’ll show you sluggish. “You sure we can only do one more tonight?”

Danny folded the map neatly into his ruck, then stood, squinting into the distance. “This house took longer than I thought it would.” He lowered his kerchief for a second to spit. “There might only be an hour or two of decent sunlight left before it gets too cold. It’s not worth the risk. At this rate, I’m not sure we’ll even make it home tonight.”

“Camping out in the next house?” Jenny asked.

Danny nodded, still watching the sun slink off in the distance.

“All these houses have fireplaces, right?” Matt asked.

The question broke Danny from his gaze. “You two…” He closed his eyes and shook his head, sighing.

“I already know what you’re thinking,” Jenny gloated. “Any amount of smoke like that will give our position away.”

“Yep, just like this.” Danny pushed the air from his lungs, letting out a long stream of condensation. “You’d notice that from miles away. I swear you guys must’ve come from some sort of paradise or something.”

Paradise… The comment gave Jenny pause as his lecture continued in the background.

Jenny figured at some point River’s Edge could have been viewed as a paradise when comparing it to what others experienced shortly after the Almawt virus struck. Life had certainly been much easier within those walls. Working maintenance in the town had been safe—made even more so once the Second Alliance moved in. Their intentions were well hidden, but it wasn’t long before their facade crumbled. Sam’s death. Xavier’s death. Haverty’s letter. All those things revealed the truth.

Now, the idea of River’s Edge being a paradise seemed laughable. Watching all their hard work snatched from them had hurt. Still hurt. Often, she had dreamed of going back. Not because she longed for that life, but because it deserved to be liberated. All her friends. The people she considered her family. Free again. But how? With what army?

Danny’s words began to register again. “…The two of you need to start framing your thoughts around survival. Always think of what the enemy can use against you. Always.

“Now, are you two ready?”

They nodded.

“Okay. Matt, you watch our six. Jenny, I need you to keep control of Sherman while I lead.” He slung the rifle’s strap back over his head. “Let’s hope this doesn’t become the opportunity to fire a few live rounds,” he kidded with Matt.

Leveling his rifle toward the street, Danny posted at the corner and waited for Matt and Jenny to fall in line. “Stay in my footprints if you can.”

As Jenny neared the corner, she could hear the howling wind whip through the trees, their branches scraping against brick, scratching across parked cars. She took in a deep, crisp breath and followed Danny out into the open. Although she’d been witnessing it through the entire endeavor, the pristine snow seemed to grab hold of her. It had been years since the last “good” snow. She couldn’t ever remember seeing such a pure, white landscape before.

Sherman’s consistent tugging against his lead brought Jenny from her daydreaming. “Settle, boy,” she told him, but the eager police canine still possessed his drive. She knew any expectation of him shedding his instinct and the training that had been ground into him through countless tracks and building searches was foolish. Sherman was invaluable. Even more so now than before the virus.

“Matt, you good?” Jenny asked, bouncing her attention between him and the footsteps Danny left in the snow.

“Yes.” His voice gave the impression he was concentrating. It must have been difficult to maintain watch over their surroundings while walking backwards, lining his boots up with his companions’ tracks that led the way.

The little things… Danny’s always thinking survival. He’s always saying not to leave any advantage for the enemy. I never would have thought of walking in each other’s footprints. Keep them guessing on how many people are in your group. He’s got this down. Maybe he is right. Maybe River’s Edge spoiled us, but it doesn’t matter now. We’re getting where we need to be. We have to.

Jenny worked to keep Sherman close, but found it difficult as his paws seemed to glide across the snow. Only when the slack came out of the lead did he become bogged down in the deep layers of snow. “You want him, Danny?”

“I gave him to you. You’ve been training with him, act like it!”

He’s right…

They neared the intersection, and Danny directed the two of them to take cover on the porch of the last house on the block. Cautiously, Jenny peeked through the windows, checking to make sure they hadn’t chosen an unfortunate vantage point. Everything sat untouched inside. It didn’t appear as a squatter’s refuge. Moving into a corner, Jenny hunkered down with Sherman while Matt drew his pistol across the railing. “Why’d you tell Danny you’ve never fired a gun before?” Jenny asked.

“Of course, you were listening… You know I have, but what I meant was that—just not here with them. Griffin’s always talking about saving this and saving that. He’s convinced some—” He broke from the conversation and took to the other side of the porch.

“What is it?” Jenny begged.

“Danny’s spotted something. Can’t tell what yet. Must be further down the street.”

“Well, what’s he doing?”

“Behind a car, watching…” he trailed off, his eyes squinting, leaning further over the edge of the railing. “He’s just kind of watching right now.” Matt brought the pistol, muzzle up, by his face and pressed his shoulder against one of the porch’s columns.

“Who the hell taught you that move?” Jenny scoffed. “Who are you James Bond?”

He shushed her, his attention remaining on Danny.

“Fine, do what you want.” I will too. She shimmied over to the porch railing. Other than Danny’s footprints leading toward the small sedan he hid behind, nothing else seemed out of place, worthy of any attention.

Danny slid along the vehicle, then stopped, bracing himself against the door frame while he stole glances over the top of the cab.

Jenny pointed out his tactics. “See how he keeps his muzzle pointed downward? Takes cover at the door frame?”

Matt didn’t respond, but from the corner of her eye, that pistol he held gradually crept into a low ready position. “Danny’s on something.”

Danny’s rifle now lay across the vehicle’s hood. He made minor adjustments to his scope. What’s he seeing? She leaned forward. From behind, Sherman nearly knocked her over as he sprung up and landed with his front paws on the railing next to her. “Get back, boy.” She forced him back from the railing. Whining, he began to pace, tangling Jenny within his lead. “What the—” What’s the damn word. “Platz! Platz!” Sherman tried to sit but couldn’t with his legs wrapped.

At her outburst, Matt turned his attention away from the street. “Jenny! What the hell are you doing?”

Jenny and Sherman were bound together with the lead. “Just—damn it, Matt. Just help me out here.”

He couldn’t hide the smile from his face as he holstered his weapon and stepped toward her. Chuckling, Matt slid the pack off her shoulders, then began unraveling the lead back through itself. “And you want to get on me, huh?”