Page 32 of Wildflowers

“What the fuck?”

“Astrid,” Dean chides me. The hypocrisy of him being the language morality police is not lost on me.

“Sorry.” I open the passenger-side door to the truck and climb out. “Sophie, can you just wait here for a couple of minutes, please? Let us take a look around and make sure this is safe?”

“You won’t go far?” asks the girl.

I give her a reassuring smile. “I’ll stay where you can see me, okay?”

She nods and returns her attention to the book in her hands. I love how she’s a reader.

Wolf Creek is situated between a waterway and some mountains. We passed a “Population: Five Hundred and Eighteen” sign a short distance ago. The grass is green and the mountain air is fresh. Apples and grapes are grown in the area. We just need to find out what else.

Our first attempt to enter the town turned out to be a bust, due to the small bridge leading to it having been blown up. There was nothing left but burnt wood and twisted metal. Guess we should have guessed then that something was going on.

Now the one remaining road into town is blockaded. Just before the gas station, mechanic, and bait shop, there’s a motley collection of vehicles. With a tank and some other military types on one side and a school bus, a bunch of tractors, and a variety of trucks on the other.

And there are bodies. So many bodies. The town’s population has definitely dropped. Given the guns lying around, it wasn’t all due to the virus, either. Some sort of standoff happened here.

“Looks like they tried to force an evacuation,” says Dean. “The townsfolk fought back.”

“Why force them to evacuate? Where were they going to take them? What purpose would it’ve served?”

He just shakes his head. None of it makes sense.

How someone would kill for control when the world was already going down the tube. The way in which they were willing to put more people in danger for some pointless government fuckery. There are some things I will never understand, and I am honestly okay with that.

Beyond this mess are the nine neat blocks that make up the bulk of the town. They’re laid out three by three, with offshoots leading to grocery and hardware stores, a small elementary school, and such.

Apart from the overgrown grass and bodies lying in the street, it could be an ordinary day here. Sun shining and flags flying. Bugs and birds are the only noise, however. The town square, with its old courthouse and cool stores, is as quiet as can be. We watch carefully for any signs of life, but there’s seemingly nothing.

“Take this.” Dean hands me a pistol. “The safety’s off. You just point and shoot.”

“You’re going to check out the town?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Keys to the truck are in the ignition. Don’t hesitate to leave if you think it’s unsafe.”

“You’ll find us?”

“Yeah.” And it’s a promise, not a threat. Another gun appears in his hands like magic. He jogs toward the town, the pose and awareness both broadcasting bad guy. Life was easier and simpler when I thought he was awful. But the truth is a more complicated thing.

I climb back in the truck and wait with Sophie for his return.

“If you had a dragon, would it be blue or green?” she asks.

“Good question. Those are the only two colors they have in your book?”

“So far.”

I pretend to think it over. But I am a basic bitch at heart. “Blue.”

“Yeah. Me too.”

“Though green is also a great color.”

“Mm.”

She’s so small. I know humans have to grow up and everything, but it’s kind of terrifying being responsible for awhole other person all of a sudden. What if she gets a scratch and I don’t notice and her head falls off or something? This is an extreme example to be sure; however, the fear is real.

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