The Cost Of Keeping Me

MAREN

“They’re refusing entry to the entire convoy if you bring Maren Ellis.”

I looked at Ronan, waiting for him to tell the man there had been a mistake. He had seen my ankle. Tessa had checked every injury and written down what happened.

“Our medic examined her,” he said. “There are no bites.”

“The report says her husband witnessed one.”

“Then let them read the examination record. She can stay in quarantine while they review it.”

Ronan stepped outside, but I could still hear the radio through the open door. Another man answered. “Only our intake officer can overturn an infection alert.”

“Put me through.”

“They’re no longer accepting referrals.”

“So who reviews a false report?”

“You’ll have to try another centre.”

I lowered my eyes to the blanket covering my legs. Grant had stopped answering my calls, but people who had never met him were still listening to what he said about me.

Outside, someone asked Ronan what was happening. He answered quietly, and more voices joined the conversation.

“We were supposed to leave this afternoon.”

“What about the children?”

I pushed the blanket aside and reached for my shoe. There was only one. I stared at it, remembering Mr. Henshaw holding the other while I dropped onto the pavement. Everything I needed seemed to be somewhere I could never return to.

Tessa entered carrying a notebook and a thermometer.

“What are you doing?”

“I need to leave.”

She looked at the shoe in my hand. “Where would you go?”

“Somewhere nearby. An empty house, maybe.”

“Which house?”

“I don’t know yet.”

She set her things on the counter.

“Maren, you can barely walk.”

“I’ll manage.”

I braced my hands against the mattress and tried to stand. Pain shot through my ankle before I had taken a step, forcing me back onto the bunk.

Tessa waited until I let go of the mattress.

“You won’t manage like that.”

Through the doorway, I saw a woman beside one of the trucks. A sleeping child rested against her shoulder while another held the hem of her shirt.

“I can’t be the reason they lose their place.”

“You didn’t file that report.”

“But they’re the ones paying for it.”

My voice shook, and I turned towards the wall. I had already begged one man to keep me. I could not sit here waiting for Ronan to decide whether I was worth keeping too.

He returned a moment later and noticed the blanket on the floor.

“What happened?”

“Could you give me some food?”

“Yes.”

“And leave me somewhere with a door that locks.”

He looked at Tessa before turning back to me.

“Is that what you want?”

“It’s what makes sense.”

“That wasn’t my question.”

I kept my eyes on my shoe. “No,” I admitted. “But everyone was going somewhere safe before you found me.”

A man appeared behind him with a clipboard.

“Ronan, we need a decision.”

Ronan introduced him as Derek Shaw, the man who coordinated the vehicles.

“I’m sorry,” I said.

Derek shifted his grip on the clipboard. “We have families depending on us.”

“I know.”

“The blue truck is almost out of food,” he told Ronan. “We divided the last cases this morning. We have fuel to reach the shelter, but not enough to keep driving around until somebody takes us.”

Ronan read the figures on his clipboard, then pulled a folded map from the cupboard above the counter.

“Let’s check what we can reach.”

Derek stepped inside. Tessa moved her notebook, and they spread the map across the counter.

I watched them consider a school and an industrial estate. One was too close to the hospital. Neither knew whether the other had supplies or secure buildings.

When Ronan’s finger passed a familiar junction, I leaned forwards.

“Wait. Follow that road east.”

He moved his finger while I pointed.

“Past the junction. There.”

“The distribution depot?”

“I worked there.”

Derek looked at me. “When?”

“Eleven days ago. I coordinated deliveries.”

“Is anybody still inside?”

“I don’t know. There was a small team handling emergency shipments when I left.”

“Eleven days is a long time.”

I nodded. “I know, but the yard is fenced. There’s a loading entrance behind the main road, and we kept food and bottled water in the warehouse.”

Ronan studied the route.

“Could you get us through the gate?”

“If the keypad still works. I know the staff code.”

Derek rubbed his forehead. “That doesn’t mean they’ll want us there.”

“No,” I said. “I can’t promise that.”

I pulled my hand away from the map, afraid I had spoken too quickly. I wanted to give them something useful, but wanting it did not mean the depot was still standing.

Ronan checked the distance with Derek, then radioed a scout. I gave directions, correcting him when he repeated the wrong turn. For the first time since leaving home, somebody needed an answer I could give.

After Derek left, I settled back against the wall.

“What if it’s empty?”

“We’ll know before we move everyone,” Ronan said.

“And if they refuse?”

“Then we keep looking.”

He folded the map while I rubbed the loose edge of my bandage.

“Why did you stop for me?”

He looked up. “I was checking your street for survivors.”

“You could have kept driving.”

“But you were there.”

I swallowed and looked away. Grant had seen me too. He had heard me begging through the gate, and he had still climbed into the vehicle.

Ronan put the map down.

“Maren, finding another route is my responsibility. You don’t have to leave to make it easier.”

I nodded because I did not trust myself to answer.

His radio crackled before he could say anything else.

“The gates are intact. We’ve got people inside.”

Ronan reached for it, but a woman’s voice replaced the scout’s.

“How many passengers?”

I sat straighter. I knew that voice.

He gave her the number and requested shelter.

“Send your passenger list first,” she said. “And I need Maren Ellis’s identification number.”