Resident Evil_ Extinction - Keith R. A. DeCandido [81]
Smiling, Jill holstered the nine and approached the three steps that led up to the front door.
TWENTY-FOUR
Claire stared at the select members of the convoy she’d gathered in the back of the 8x8: herself, Mikey, Carlos, and Chase. Alice was also present, having just finished telling everyone else what she’d told Claire earlier about the red journal she’d found. Normally, Claire would have included L.J., but he was still too far gone in grief over Betty to think straight.
Once Alice was finished—and while she was talking, the journal had been passed around from person to person—there was silence, aside from Mikey flipping pages.
Chase finally broke it by speaking in a dreamy voice. “A safe haven, free of infection.”
Staring at a page full of pictures, Mikey said, “It’s the promised land.”
Claire couldn’t believe what she was hearing. She had been willing to let Alice tell the other senior-most members of the convoy about the journal, but only after Alice all but bullied her into it. “Alaska! Are you all crazy? Have you any idea what kind of journey that would be?”
Shrugging, Chase said, “Long.”
“Well,” Mikey said, “two thousand seven hundred and forty-six miles.”
Everyone stared at him. Claire wondered for a second how he knew that, then remembered that Mikey was, at heart, a geek.
In a small voice, Mikey added, “Or thereabouts.”
“And we don’t have enough gas for the next week.” Claire looked right at Alice, who, damn her, was just staring back with those fucking blue eyes of hers. “And at the end of it—what? You’ve no guarantee there’s even anyone alive up there.”
Mikey held up the journal. “These transmissions—”
“Are dated from six months ago. How many radio broadcasts have we responded to? How many times have we got there too late?”
Nobody replied to that. The answer to the second question was a number only slightly smaller than the answer to the first one.
Alice said, “According to the transmissions, there’s no infection up there. They’re isolated—safe.”
Again, Claire stared at Alice, and again, Alice stared right back. “This convoy trusts me with their lives. Do you have any idea what kind of risk this would be?”
Chase said quietly, “One worth taking.”
“No,” Claire said firmly. She was sorry she even let Alice talk about this. “These people don’t need pipe dreams.”
“Maybe that’s exactly what they need.”
Claire turned to look at Carlos, who hadn’t said anything until those six words. “What?”
“Look at them, Claire,” Carlos said emphatically, his honey voice sounding ragged with stress and pain. “Six months ago, there were fifty of us. Then forty. Now we’re down to twenty. We buried ten people this morning alone. They’re starting to give up. They need some hope.”
“This kind of hope could get them all killed.”
Carlos barked a nasty laugh. “The world could get them all killed, Claire! Do we really have a better chance doing what we’re doing now, driving around hoping for the best and being menaced by birds? God, did you see it this morning? Ten people died, and nobody could even say a word. Freddie was a carpenter who had three kids, Dillon was an Army Ranger who fought in two wars, Jared was a shoe salesman, Betty was a paramedic who was studying to be a nurse, Kenny was a bank clerk who was going to school to become a lawyer, Monique was a physical therapist and a grandmother three times over, Jason was a television producer—these people had lives, but by the time they died in this convoy, nobody seemed to care. We need something to care about, Claire, or we may as well all eat our guns and be done with it.”
Claire looked around at the others. Mikey and Chase both had the same intense desperation as Carlos. Alice—she still couldn’t read Alice.
Maybe Carlos was right. At the very least, she owed it to the others to give them the option.
Ten minutes later, she’d gathered