Chapter Three

Lincoln was on the move with the baby. He'd managed to make a sufficient swaddle for the child, which had left him shirtless, and now had Marshall clutched to his chest.
He'd closed Melody's eyes but had stayed there, stone-faced until Marshall began to cry and woke him from his trance. Just leaving her like that would have been wrong. Rumors of cannibalism had been circulating for awhile now. He wouldn't let her fall victim to that fate, even if she wouldn't know. That building's floor was nothing but dirt so he did the best he could digging with my hands and laying her to rest.
He'd removed a thin gold necklace she'd had wrapped around her ankle, for safe keeping, and wrapped it around Marshall's wrist. It was his now.
There was a shelter not far from where he lived. It would probably take him the rest of the day to get there on foot but he'd get there.
Shelters were probably the only places left in peace. They served as clinics and temporary homes; sometimes even food kitchens but that was rare. But mostly, it was a nursery. Women and girls who'd gotten raped, parents with nothing to offer their children, strays; they all came here.
The young have remained untouched for the most part. Some have dared cause affliction to the little ones but it was still frowned upon just as it was when civilization was civil.
Lincoln bristled uneasily. It was oddly quiet for this time of day. Or any time of day to that argument.
No matter. The absence of noise was allowing the infant to rest. Lincoln wanted as little interaction with him as possible. Besides, if the child were to wake he'd want food or to be changed and Lincoln was at liberty to provide neither. He didn't like the quiet but he was grateful.
Not long after he'd set out, he spotted four boys ahead of him. Before he could veer off of his current path, one of the called his name. "Hey! Linky boy."
He closed his eyes, took a deep breath and approached them, keeping a safe distance.
"What do you want, Jace?"
The boy emerged from the shadows covered in filth, cuts laced his sunburned white skin; his green eyes hollowed and every bit as tumultuous as with whom they served. Lincoln and Jace had been friends when they were younger. But when all hell broke loose and tradies befell them both, their feet followed different paths.
"I heard that you stole some food yesterday, quite a bit actually."
"Yeah. Like I can outrun Grimes with a baby," he answered nonchalantly displaying Marshall.
The other three boys crowded around.
"He a little light to be yours."
Lincoln rolled his eyes, "That don't make it any less so."
They most likely would leave him alone if they thought the baby belonged to him.
"True. Well, if you do get your hands on some food, let your friends know."
"You'll be the first, Jace."
They cleared out of his way and he smoothly moved pass them until he could turn a corner out of sight.
He exhaled deeply then looked down at the baby.
"You came in handy. Maybe you're not completely useless."
However useful Marshall might be it did not deter Lincoln from his quest. A few hours of walking and a crying fit later, the shelter came into view. He almost ran towards it so determined he was to be rid of little baby Marshall.
The growing darkness hindered his vision but when he got closer, he could see that something was happening outside. There were a group of Blues in front of the building. One of them in particular was pacing in front of a group of five people who were on their knees with their hands behind their head. Lincoln could vaguely hear the pacer shouting something. There was a moment of silence and stillness then with no warning at all, the pacer took out his gun and went down the line, shooting each of them in the head.
Lincoln didn't realize he was screaming until Marshall began to outdo him. All of the Blues piled into an armored truck and for the second time today, Lincoln found himself being forced to the ground by an explosion.