Maybe

The quiet of the twilight was pierced by a howl. It wasn’t one of the predators he knew and it increased his desire to find shelter before true night fell. The chill was already seeping into his joints. He needed to get out of the cold before he froze entirely.

The howl came again and he stopped. Though it had been years since he’d last heard it, the second cry brought recognition. He shuffled over a slush-covered car towards the noise. Someone had tried to create an emergency haven in a circle of dead cars and grey ice. It broke the wind but without a roof their was no way to warm the area with fire. And it did nothing for predators.

To the right, the remains of a body were frozen in the snow. The brackish slush around the body showed the gore and violence of the man’s last moments. He stopped beyond the body and looked into the closest car. By some miracle it had survived the After with all the doors and windows intact.

He opened a door, yanking it hard to break the hold of the cold. The man had probably died trying to reach the car. In the back seat, a dead woman held a squirming bundle. It was well wrapped and it took a moment for him to pull the cloth aside enough to reveal a child.

He covered the face back up and looked for anything useful in the car. A bag next to the woman and child had basic supplies but not enough to survive long. The man had probably gone scavenging, but there was nothing left in the areas around here. He’d passed this way enough times to know.

It was hard enough to survive on your own in this world, but there was little hope for the infant. Even with proper care few children survived the fragile stages into adolescents. He closed the car door and turned his back to it, closing his eyes. The human race deserved to die out. They’d had plenty of chances to change, but they never learned. The world of snow and ice was their doing.

And yet, the infant was innocent of that.

He turned back to the car, grabbed the backpack, and slung it over his shoulder. He took the squirming bundle as gently as he could, then slammed the car door behind him. He didn’t know if the baby would have any better luck with him or not, but he couldn’t just leave it. The man and woman had tried. He would honor that at least.

He tucked the infant into his arms and began the trek to his favorite hideaway in the area. He was days away from his home base, but he needed supplies. Doubly so if the child survived the night.

It took thirty minutes to reach the shelter of an old gas station. The front had been busted out a long time ago and most of the shelves had been emptied. He went into the back and shoved a few boxes aside to reach a door. He closed it quickly behind him and listened for a moment. Not that anything could have come through the door and pushed everything back, but people were damned inventive. He didn’t hear anything though, so he went down the steps. At the bottom, he turned on the lantern he’d left.

The light was dim, but he could see well enough. Everything was as he’d arranged it. He moved to the furthest corner and under a cover of debris and detritus were two coolers full of supplies. Nothing that would help with the baby, but things he needed.

He slung off the baby’s pack and his own, making a barricade on the cot in the corner. He set the baby on it, then looked around for what he needed. There was an old wood burning stove that someone had rigged up before he ever set foot in the place. It only needed a little tinder and it was ready to light. He preferred to leave his hideaways ready for his return, in case of emergencies. More than once a quick fire had saved him.

He tossed a few pieces of old trash into the stove and set it to flame. He closed the door as the fire took. Then looked back at the baby.

“I guess I better figure you out,” he said. It had been years since he’d used his voice and it sounded like something drug over the coals, but he didn’t think the baby would mind, even if it grated at his ears. He’d had a lovely signing voice once.

He pulled the outer level of cloth from around the child and kept unraveling until it was down to a single layer. There were no injuries, no bruises or blood that he could see. There was also no darkened extremities. She had probably locked herself in the car against the predators that had killed the man. Had she used the last of her body heat to warm the child? Given the last of her body’s warmth in the faintest hope that the child would survive?

“You are a child of questions,” he said as he wrapped it back up again. It smelled awful. Once the room had heated up a little, he’d warm some water and bath the child. He could probably use a scrub up himself.

“What should I call you?” He sat on the cot with his knees up and propped the child there. The face was uncovered and it was probably a very cute baby. People always said babies were cute but he didn’t know how to judge that. He had very limited knowledge of children. “Or maybe I shouldn’t name you. Maybe, I’ll name you if you survive a bit. Or I’ll let you name yourself if you make it.”

The baby had been watching him contently, then suddenly scrunched it’s nose and let out another howl. “Right, right. You’re probably hungry,” he remembered. He pulled the other pack up and found what he needed. The man and woman had a small supply of powdered baby formula. They must have stopped through Napos. The trading station up there was always getting strange things in. Not just survival stuff either. Last time he’d been through someone traded real goods for a golf club and a pack of golf balls.

Another point on the side of humanity deserved to die out.

He set the child down and grabbed a pot, putting some water in it. There were two bottles in the pack and both looked disgusting. He had to clean them both out before he’d attempt to put the baby’s food in it. The child cried out every few minutes, but it wasn’t continual and that worried him. He set about cleaning a bottle, then added the formula and let it cool down. The other bottle was scrubbed clean in that time too. He made a second bottle for later, then added more water to heat for clean up.

“Alright, maybe-baby, lets see if this is what you want.”

He propped the child back on his legs again and set the bottle into its mouth. The child began sucking down the formula immediately. He laughed softly as he watched. “Maybe, I think that’s what you needed.”

He ran a gloved finger over the child’s cheek and was content to watch it eat. Hell, it was the best entertainment he’d had in years. Maybe emptied the bottle and seemed content, until it started to cry again. A few minutes of complete confusion passed when Maybe let out a large belch and stilled.

There was an old bookstore a day’s walk south that he usually ignored. He should stop and see if there were any baby books that had survived the After. If Maybe survived that long, he might find more useful things in town as well.

For tonight, he found some old rags and cleaned them both up. He threw her - her he was surprised to find - old diapers out because they were even more disgusting than the bottles, and settled them both on the cot for sleep.

He didn’t close his eyes that night, but with Maybe sleeping in his arms, it was the most restful night he’d had in ages.