A Matter of Days (9 page)

“Shhh, we’re going to make it better, Teotwawki. Nadia is really smart, she’ll know what to do.”

The answering whine wasn’t exactly confident.

“What’d you call him?” I asked, kneeling down next to my brother.

“Teotwawki.” He shrugged.

“Where’d that come from?”
English, please?

“Teotwawki,” Rabbit repeated.

That’s helpful
. “Which means?”

“ ‘The end of the world as we know it.’ Teotwawki. I’ll probably shorten it eventually.”

“Oh.” I needed to remember that Rabbit spent a hell of a lot of time online and watching CNN with Mom in those early days. He probably knew more about the whole thing than I did. “That’s unique. Let’s start with the easy-to-reach. Clean the parts that don’t hurt so he can get used to our touch, okay?”

Rab took cool wet rags and tried to spit-bathe the worst of the mud and knots off Teotwawki’s coat. “These tangles are terrible.”

“See if you can just cut them off.” I wasn’t sharing my hairbrush with a dog.

“Really?”

“It’s hair, Rab. It’s not going to hurt him, and it probably annoys him to move with all those rat nests.”

This was a dog used to fluffy beds and special treats and toys. Not used to sleeping in holes and hunting for his food. He was a purebred, and his rhinestone collar wasn’t exactly this year’s must-have fashion for strays.

When the water had boiled long enough I took it off the heat and measured some out into a bowl. I hoped it would draw the infection out, soften the wounds, and give me a chance to see what exactly was going on.
At least, that’s what the chapter on infected wounds says
. They were referring to humans and gangrene. Not exactly sure what that was, but if it was gangrene,
then Dog was toast anyway because I wasn’t amputating his leg. Even I had my limits.

“Rab, it’s time to try this.”

“What do we do first?”

“I need you to hold his head so he doesn’t bite either of us, okay?”

“He won’t.”

“Rab—”

“Fine. Hold head, got it.”

I looked Dog in the eye and explained, hoping he’d know instinctively we weren’t enemies. “Teotwawki, I am going to put one paw in this hot salty water and hold it there. It’s going to hurt, but it’ll help.”

As I picked up his paw, he whined and tried to wag his tail, but other than increased tension in his frame, he didn’t move.

I tried to be as gentle as I could. He pulled against me for a breath and then relaxed.

“It’s okay, Twawki. It’s okay, boy.” Rab muttered nonsensicals and sweet nothings into the dog’s ears while stroking between his eyes and down his head.

“Rabbit, I need you to reheat the pot of water and get me a roll of paper towels. Okay?”

“Sure.” Rab scrambled up. “The ones from the rest stop?”

“Doesn’t matter.” I needed something disposable to wipe the ooze and guck off. Bits of gravel clinked into the bowl and had long since changed the water from clear to pink frothy gunk like peppermint ice cream dropped on the ground and melted.

Rab handed me wads of paper as I took Teotwawki’s paw out of the water. With my headlamp pointed at the wounds,
I saw the shredded pads on his foot like open masses of hamburger. Spoiled hamburger. The smell gagged me.

“Holy cow.” Rab backed away as if he too was appalled. “How’d he walk at all?”

“Dump this out, wash it with the boiling water. Don’t use too much, okay? When we finish with this paw we have to do the other one.”

“Should I see if he wants water?”

“I don’t think he’s going to drink anything until we’re done, Rab.” These were feet I’d seen on those horrid medical reality-TV shows Mom watched with titles like
I Shouldn’t Have Lived
or
Superhuman Immune System Fought Off Slime Mold of the Toenail
.

“There were glass shards in here.” Rab came running back with the clean bowl.

“What?”

“At the bottom of the bowl there were pieces of glass. I buried them so no one else would step on them. You want me to go get them?”

“No, but we better make sure they’re all out. Hold his head again.”

I smushed and pushed and wiped and cajoled. Used the tweezers to get two more long icicles of clear glass out of his foot. When I stopped, I wasn’t even done, but thought Twawki had taken enough torture on that paw.

“How do you think it happened?” Rab asked.

“I don’t know, maybe he walked on something.”
Maybe he had to break a window to get out of his house
. “I think there are probably more pieces in the other paw and maybe even in his skin or other places.”

I rinsed the paw, hesitating when Teotwawki whined and lifted his head as if to lick his foot. “Don’t let him lick it, Rab, it could make him sicker.”

“ ’Kay.”

If I disinfected the wound with hand sanitizer it would hurt. I didn’t like it in a hangnail, I couldn’t imagine the pain of filling a wound with it. And I had no idea if it would help.
Plan B?
“Do we have any Neosporin?”

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple of tubes.”

Can we find more? Do we use it on the dog, or wait and use it on us if we need it?

“I’ll get one.” Rab didn’t let me decide, but I had an uncomfortable moment where I was sure he read my mind.

I filled the crevices with goo. Using more than I probably needed to get at the rest of the infection. Rab handed me strips of T-shirt that I wound and tucked to hold the ointment against the wound and give Teotwawki some protection. “Now, Dad’s tube sock.” I held out my hand.

Rab handed it over with only slight hesitation. I dragged it up over Teotwawki’s leg and then rolled the top down. “He might try to take it off.”

“Then we duct-tape it so he can’t.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, duct tape fixes everything.” I gave him a small smile.

The morning air heated with the rising sun. I wiped sweat out of my eyes and peeled off a layer of clothing. May already felt like August. “You want breakfast first or are you ready for me to continue?”

“I don’t think I could eat right now.” Rab’s brow furrowed,
“Let’s clean him up and get on the road before that puma comes back.”

“Sure.” Worked for me. In silent tandem we found a rhythm cleaning out the second paw, which, thankfully, was not as bad as the first. Rab clipped all the balls of hair he could reach, carefully handling them in case there was more glass, which there was.

By the time we finished, my neck was cricked and my fingers were cramped from holding the tweezers so long, but Teotwawki was as cleaned up as he could be. Cleaner than he’d been in a long time.

“Have you changed your underwear today?” I asked.

“Dia!”

“Well?”

“No,” Rab mumbled.

“Let’s heat up a little water, wash, and change our clothes before we get on the road.” We both smelled like pus and rotten earth.

“What happens to Twawki?”

“I imagine he’ll sleep where he is.”

“But—”

“Until we get him into the Jeep to go with us.” I flashed Rab a smile.

Relief sagged his shoulders until we assessed the size of the backseat hole, checking it for the still impressive girth of a malnourished Saint Bernard. “He won’t fit.”

Nope, he won’t fit at all
. “We’re going to have to make room. Any ideas?”

His expression thoughtful, Rab nodded. “Yeah, I think so.”

“Sitting on your lap doesn’t count.”

“Dia!” I watched Rab struggle to get something out from under the backseat.

“Want some help?” I asked, checking our supplies.
We used too much water. We’ll need to find more soon
.

“Don’t be mad,” Rabbit said.

My stomach sank.

D
on’t be mad? How do parents do it? That phrase told me to get mad immediately and that I’d probably stay that way. But anger took too much energy. “What?”

“I can’t get my XPlay out without taking out a bunch of other stuff.”

“You brought your gaming system?” I blinked. And here I’d thought Rab had packed the Jeep with only the essentials and the things we’d agreed on.

He nodded. “I thought maybe Pappi might have—”

“A monitor? Power to spare? A desire to challenge you in
Zombie Dance Masters 12
?”

“I guess. I just needed it, Nadia,” he answered in a small voice.

I wasn’t mad. I’d brought a few security blankets too. Rab lived for that gaming system; it was at times a better friend to him than any human kid ever had been, including Jimmy. Especially after Dad died. I think mastering the next game level felt like the only thing Rabbit controlled in his world. “I get it. But I guess you have to decide which you’d rather take with us.”

“I don’t need to decide. We can’t leave him here. Plus, you promised.”

I smiled. “I know. Just testing you. I’ll help.” We cleared space, tossed out a few bags of dirty clothes and food wrappers. I spread cleanish clothes and blankets out on top of the bench seat instead of stashing them and created a relatively comfy bed. It wasn’t big and it was cramped, but it would work.

“Are you hungry yet?” I asked.

“I’d go for ice cream.” Rabbit licked his lips.

“Yeah, me too. Want a PowerBar?”

“Nah, not the same.”

I sighed. I knew it. “Tell me if you get hungry, though, okay? We can’t stop eating because the food’s all the same.”

Rabbit nodded, but he was focused on the dog. “Um, how are we going to get him in here?”

I glanced over at Teotwawki and saw he was watching us with avid attention, but his weight was firmly on his elbows. If he tried to stand he’d likely undo all the good work. “We pick him up.”

Rab’s jaw dropped. “He’s huge.”

“He’s not that big.”
For a horse
. I opened both back doors of the Jeep and assessed the situation. “I’ll take his front two-thirds and you take care of his butt.”

“ ’Kay.”

I knelt down and the dog licked my face with his ears back and tail thumping. “It’s okay, Twawki. Please don’t bite us.” I wedged my arms underneath his elbows and prominent rib cage. Under all that fur he wasn’t as sturdy as he looked. With the right food he probably would weigh another fifty pounds. “On the count of three.”

Rab took a beating as Twawki’s tail kept whapping him in the face.

“Two, three.” We lifted and Twawki all but used his hind end to jump up into our arms. We sidestepped and finessed until Rab had the dog’s butt on the seat. I pushed Twawki along, deeper into the nest. We closed the door and he leaned against it with a happy bark, his head on the windowsill. We high-fived and clambered into the front.

“Do we have everything?”

“Yep, think so.”

I glanced over at the neat stack of electronics, games, and controllers Rab had made by the boulder. “I’m sorry, Rab.”

“I’m not, I’ll take Twawki any day.” But he didn’t make eye contact or look back as we drove away.

Gassed up twice, three pee breaks, and lunch on board, we made it another hundred miles before we came across a few houses.

“We’re looking for water and gas, and we need dog food,” I said.

“Where do we find dog food?”

“Look for a yard with a doghouse and toys and stuff.”

It took three tries to find everything and it was only enough to get us a few clicks down the road. Late-afternoon sun baked the world around us in tans, browns, and grays.

Rabbit turned down the music. “What’s that?”

“A roadblock of sorts, I think.” I leaned forward and tried to read the sign propped against a couple of cars and sawhorses.

“What do we do?” Rab asked.

Twawki growled low in his throat, then thumped his tail.
Is that good or bad?

“Well, we can turn around, or we can see if it’s an old roadblock, or if there is a survivor to man it, waiting for people.” I held up fingers as I rattled off our options.

“Uh-huh.”

“What do you think?” I asked, slowing down.

“Not everyone still alive can be mean and insane, right?”

“Probably not.”
Although both traits might tip the scale more toward survival
.

“Let’s check it out. We just don’t get out of the Jeep,” Rabbit pronounced, sitting forward in his seat. “Wait, there’s movement. What is it? A deer? A bear?”

“I can’t tell. I should have brought Dad’s binoculars.”
You and me both know those would have been more useful than Dad’s MP3 player tucked against the base of my spine
. “Rabbit, grab the gun, okay?”

“Is that an old—”

“Lady?” My hands tightened on the wheel as we rolled closer. She took off her big floppy sun hat and waved it in greeting, then bent down and lifted up a piece of cardboard. “Can you read that?”

“Yeah, it says ‘Will share our food for information.’ Do we trust her?”

She seemed friendly. No gunshots rang out. “Grannies can be desperate criminals too, Rab.” But were we going to head
into this new world thinking ill of everyone we met? Or were we going to take a few chances and hope for the best?

“Let’s vote,” Rab demanded.

“Okay. I say we approach cautiously, but don’t follow her anywhere. We can give her information and we don’t need her food.”

“Twawki?” Rab turned in his seat to ask the dog’s vote.

Woof!

“I think that’s a ‘proceed as suggested.’ ”

Where does he come up with this stuff?
I nodded and continued toward the old woman.

“Hi, I’m Miss Tre. Where you coming from? Where you going?” She used a walker to hobble over toward the driver’s-side window.

“Uh, we’re—”

She gave us no time to answer before continuing. “I have to stay here on guard duty.” She seemed uncertain for a moment. “You’re the first I’ve seen. You don’t know how lovely it is to see such young, fresh, and new faces. The girls will be thrilled, just thrilled. Would you like some cool tea? Let me shoot off my rifle and one of the kids will come escort you up to the farmhouse. I’m Miss Tre, did I tell you that already? What are your names?”

She was harmless. Dotty. Maybe simple, but innocuous. “Do you know how to shoot a gun? Miss Susan showed me, but I’ve forgotten.”

Rab glanced at me. “Uh—”