Human Bait

Chapter 22: Survivors

"Wait, please don't shoot." The woman raised her hand a little higher and stepped in front of the child. "I'm Nikkla, and this is my daughter, Fennikk."

Rekkan kept the gun raised. "If you're not Infected, then get the fuck out of here."

Nikkla visibly swallowed, but her feet remained planted. "Please, do you have any food to spare? Not for me—just for my daughter. She hasn't eaten in days."

Rekkan gripped the rifle hard enough his knuckles whitened, but the barrel sank to aim at Nikkla's feet. "We don't have enough food to—"

"They can have my portion," I said.

Rekkan shot me a glare. "No, they can't fucking—"

"Mommy?" The small child peeked out from behind her mother. A blanket wrapped her frail frame, her head of knotted brown hair tipped to the side, and curious brown eyes studied us. "Are these good guys or bad guys?"

Nikkla shot out an arm and shifted to block the child from view once more. "Don't worry, sweetheart. I won't let them hurt you."

Rekkan scrubbed a hand over his face. "Ah, fuck." He strapped the rifle over his shoulder and crouched to grab the pack. "Stay there. I'll throw some food to you, and then you need to leave."

The woman bit her lip and jerked her head in a nod. "Honestly, you have no idea how much this means to me. Thank—"

"Stop," said Rekkan. "Don't say it."

He dug out a couple packets of crackers and a bag of dried meat. The moment he tossed it to Nikkla, Fennikk stepped forward and slipped a grubby hand out of the blanket to reach for the food. Nikkla ripped open a packet of crackers and passed several to Fennikk, who stuffed them all in her mouth. Her dirty cheeks bulged as she chewed.

Nikkla laid a hand on the little girl's shoulder. "Come, Fennikk. We won't bother these men any longer."

Fennikk swallowed and brushed crumbs from her lips. "Can't we stay here a little longer, Mommy? I feel safer with them here."

Nikkla offered her a tight-lipped smile. "They don't want us here, sweetheart. And we need to keep moving to reach Etherland soon."

I took one step forward. "Wait, you are headed to Etherland? Why?"

Nikkla tightened her grip on Fennikk's shoulder and eyed me warily. "Everyone says it's the last stronghold. Besides, we are hoping it's where the rest of our group was taken. They were attacked by some Infected on a supply run, and the helicopters saved them."

A chill passed over me as I remembered the last words of the Freshly-Baked man by the farmhouse: I told you not to fire the flare gun. Were the helicopters really bringing survivors to Etherland? And was Etherland really safe?

Then another person's last words echoed in my mind—words that never faded over eight years.

Even Ether will fall in the third phase.

Could Ether mean... Etherland?

Hesitantly, I asked, "Have you met anyone who has been to Etherland recently?"

Nikkla snorted a laugh. "Of course not—why would anyone in Etherland leave?"

"You should come with us," said the little girl, dark eyes alight. "Everyone says it's beautiful there. Have you been there before?"

"Once," said Rekkan. "For my leg."

She chewed on a fingernail, inspecting Rekkan's jean-clad bionic leg. "What happened? Did an Infected bite you?"