End of the Line (Book 2): Stuck in the Middle Read Free Page A

camp in Northport?”
                  He didn’t respond right away. Maybe he was startled at the sudden break in silence.
                  “Keith?”
                  “I was there for a little while,” he finally said. “I didn’t like the smell.”
                  I didn’t blame him. I remembered the stink being overwhelming, used to keep the zombs away. No one liked leaving Aisha, but her mother was too comfortable to move out. Of course I could smell Keith in the car and it was a mix of body odor and cologne. He must have used it to cover his scent. The rest of us didn’t smell sweet but we got to shower two or three times a week. I don’t know when Keith showered last.
                  “Have you seen anyone from there recently? We’re looking for a friend we left there.”
                  “Why’d she stay?”
                  “To be with her mother and sister.”
                  “It wasn’t a good place.”
                  Jim tried telling that to Lynne, Aisha’s mother but she was scared to leave.
                  “I don’t want to go back.”
                  “They camp was abandoned and they left a message they were going to Montauk. We’ve been trying to find them.”
                  Keith didn’t respond. It was hard to see him over the sleeping bags. He was a weird kid but I thought about Simon and how traumatized he still was. Keith may get better with people and a sense of safety. He didn’t pull a weapon on us, so I guess that was okay. He allowed Mike to pat him down, and only came up with a steak knife.
                  I didn’t press. I looked at more scenery. The roads were beginning to decay and smaller ones had been broken up by potholes caused by storms and nature. The major highways were in better shape because they were meant to withstand more traffic but they had a lot of broken down wrecks. Roads had been eaten by grass, ivy and trees. Car rides became regularly bumpy and slow.
                  I didn’t want to go back to the boat. I loved the freedom of walking around the outlet mall even with the potential of a zombie lurking in every corner.
     
                  The air was mercilessly cold with an icy sea breeze as Mike and I took the first wave of supplies to the boat. I wished for the coat Jim got me but it was tied up in one of the giant garbage bags used to keep the supplies dry. I had a feeling we wouldn’t be going on any more supply runs. Mike rowed to Renewal and I held on to the supplies from the gusty sea winds. The dinghy had a motor and fuel but we only used it for emergencies and this wasn’t one.
    Keith didn’t question why we pulled the car to a dock. He looked on the horizon and saw our yacht. Originally white with a blue trim, it had gotten dirty because we didn’t have a pressure hose to clean it. Now it was off-white.
                  The sailing yacht had originally been called A Million Delights , which probably reflected the price. Grace said it was probably worth about 2-3 mil. Not worth anything now but to us it was priceless.
                  We had limited electricity. Henry couldn’t convert the engine to biodiesel because he needed a kit. We only used the motor for a hard port. We stole what fuel we could from other gas stations, boats or trucks. We conserved and rationed as much as we could because oil wasn’t coming out of the ground anymore. I remembered the time before. Americans were never willing to ration, it was a god given right to have excess. Now we would learn to work with less, at least for gas and food. I could steal 100 tablets but they wouldn’t be worth a thing.
                  The boat wasn’t far. The bay had a fifteen foot drop twenty feet in, and the boat was anchored thirty feet from that.
    When we