Gray (Book 3) by Lou Cadle

glanced at Benjamin. “You can come with us.”
    “No,” said Coral. “He and I stay together. Nothing else is an option.”
    Jamie looked doubtful—or suspicious—at that, but Doug was nodding. “I get that.”
    Kathy decided quickly. “Okay. He can come. The four of us will go back to that barn, and you two keep on checking for houses to the south. We’ll meet up back here for supper.”
    Jamie said, “Don’t be so late this time.”
    “We won’t,” Kathy said. “Unless we run across another couple of stragglers out there.” She turned to Coral. “Can you guys empty out those sacks of yours and bring them along? It’ll be good to have something else to carry supplies with.”
    Coral didn’t like that at all. What little they had, she didn’t want to let out of her grasp. But she couldn’t have it both ways. She needed to decide: trust these people—at least for a while—or part ways now.
    That they were willing to let her leave made her, paradoxically, more willing to stay and see what the strangers’ situation was. “What do you think?” she asked Benjamin.
    “Seems fine to me. If we decide to leave later, we’ll pack our own stuff back up, right?” Benjamin looked at Kathy.
    “Sure.”
    The answer seemed too quick. Coral still didn’t trust that promise. But a week ago, she had been about to starve to death. If the strangers had food, she’d be willing to join forces with them—temporarily.
    She’d be watching them, though, and on her guard today, and she’d make sure that Benjamin and she were ready to flee at a moment’s notice, when they all arrived wherever they were going tomorrow. She wasn’t going to let herself be isolated or locked up again.
    She hoped that she wouldn’t find herself trapped.

Chapter 6
     
    Kathy and Martin led them to the remains of a farm. They had found a concrete bunker, or a crawl space, they theorized, that had been under a barn. Some supplies had survived the fire. Most paper and plastic coverings had been burned away, but there were plenty of tools. One of the first things Coral saw was a large stainless tube, perfect for making a syringe to irrigate Benjamin’s arm. She grabbed it. Weren’t the remnants of civilization amazing?
    “How’d you find this place?” she asked Kathy.
    “We’re systematically searching the countryside. The supplies we had at first are getting low. We’ve nearly cleared the area around us. And there are things we never had in the first place that we’d love to find out here.”
    Benjamin said, “Like a doctor.”
    “Yes,” said Kathy. “We have a medic, but she has a limited range of knowledge.”
    “I’m not a licensed doctor yet,” said Coral.
    “I appreciate your making that clear,” said Kathy.
    Martin said, “You see anything you can use?”
    “Yes.” The equipment must have been on shelves that collapsed, for there was a hodgepodge of it scattered over the concrete floor. Some of it had been pulled out of the snow already. There were scorched leather straps, useless, and a large metal tong that she picked up and opened and closed, like the world’s biggest salad tongs.
    Martin said, “For birthing calves or lambs, I think.” He mimed pulling a calf out of its mother.
    They’d dug through some of this, but other items must still be buried under the ash and snow. “We need to excavate, first of all,” she said, “then decide what’s most important.”
    It took them a couple hours to clean the snow off the floor and find and line up the remaining equipment. Some was ruined by the fire, including some melted plastic syringes she would have loved to have had. But there were needles—a little large-bore for human comfort, but if the only other choice was no needle at all, this would certainly do. “That’ll leave a bruise,” she muttered, turning one over.
    They had unearthed a galvanized tub, and she laid the needle in there. “Any more needles you see, put them in there, too.”
    She found