Elijah took a few more steps toward her. “I know that wasn’t easy. Let us help you with the rest.”
The woman scowled. “What would you know? You ever have to decide to end it for someone else? You ever have to pretend you know best when everything in you is just as lost as they are?”
“Yes,” said Neil.
She looked surprised.
“Yes, we’ve had to do that.”
She watched Elijah come closer but didn’t reach for the gun. “Be careful with him,” she pleaded.
“I promise,” said Elijah.
30
It was almost dusk by the time they left the woman in the graveyard. She’d wanted to stay after they’d finished refilling the grave, but Neil’s patience was long past worn out, anxious to be at the cabin. He’d offered to come back, for the woman or for Elijah or for both, but he’d insisted he had to go, to see for himself. Elijah hadn’t been willing to leave him and the woman seemed comfortable to be alone at the grave a while longer. She’s been alone all this time, essentially, thought Neil, trying to justify it to himself. In truth, she seemed a little relieved to see them go. Neil wondered if they’d see her again. He suspected not, but loneliness did odd things to people. He turned down the drive, stumbling over the uneven ruts. She couldn’t have been right about Joan and Randi. She’d said herself she never came down here or looked for people at all. The cabin’s set far back from the road and Joan would have trucked in some supplies so— He let the thought trail off as the trees opened into the small clearing where the cabin sat. The shadows of the surrounding trees were long and twining together over the roof of the house. No lights. Where are the lights? He tried not to panic, heading toward the lawn. Not dark yet, not really. Joan’s not one to waste. Candles or flashlight batteries or anything else. He stopped to stare up at the upper floor windows, looking for some sign, some twitch or flash of color. Elijah stopped beside him.
“How do you want to do this? Do you want me to sta—”
“Joan?” Neil yelled, ignoring him. “Randi? It’s Dad.” He walked quickly toward the porch, taking the steps two at a time. “Joan? It’s me. I just wanted to make sure you were safe.” His hand was on the doorknob before he remembered that it wasn’t his cabin. Not really. Need to knock. Calm down, don’t scare them, he told himself. He let go of the doorknob, rubbed the sweat from his hands on his pants. Then he knocked. And waited. Nothing answered.
A loon called somewhere deep in the woods. Neil knocked again, a little harder this time. No answer. Elijah climbed the porch steps. “Maybe they went on a supply run, brother,” he said quietly. “Fall’s starting to wear on. Lots of ripe apples and fallen wood for winter. Maybe some potatoes.”
“Sure. Sure, of course,” said Neil. He stared at the door, uncertain of what to do.
“Maybe we should set up the tent,” offered Elijah. “Wait for them there, so we don’t have anyone shooting at us like in the graveyard.”
Neil started to turn away from the door and stopped.
“It’s better not to scare them, Neil. If we spend another night in a sleeping bag, it’s not so bad, right?”
“But I have to know. We’ll set up the tent. But I have to know first. I’ll just go in and— and check, ok?”
“Check what? What is it you want to find?”
“I— don’t know. Things, maybe. Sheets on the bed. Randi’s drawings on the fridge. Supplies sitting in the cupboard or— or Joan’s purse. Anything. Anything that will let me know they got here. That they’re both okay.” He bent to flip up the mat and find the spare key. Elijah knelt down beside him.
“Things have changed. Randi might not be drawing anymore. It’s hard to find paper without a supply run. Joan probably abandoned her purse ages ago. Whatever’s behind that door may not be what you expect. What if— Neil, I know you don’t want to think about it but that bus isn’t in the driveway.”
“Maybe they got dropped off. Or picked something else when they ran out of gas.”
“Sure, sure, brother, maybe that happened. Just— take a breath. Whatever’s in there, whoever’s in there or— or isn’t, I’m going to be with you. I can’t say that it’s going to be okay, because we both know that isn’t true. It’ll never be true, even if everything goes right from here on. But I’ll be here to go through it with you, understand?”
“I know.” Neil clapped him on the shoulder. “I know you will. We’re going to remake the world, right? But first I just have to make sure Randi’s okay. Just need to see so we can sleep easily tonight, that’s all. Five minutes and I’ll be back out helping you set up the tent. We can figure out if we need to build another cabin or just clear to the neighbor’s in the morning, right?” He picked up the shiny metal key.
“Of course,” said Elijah sadly. He got up. “I’m going to pull out the tent before it gets dark. You take your time. Remember, go slow. Just because they aren’t answering doesn’t mean they aren’t in there and scared. We don’t look like we did a few years ago.”
“She’ll recognize my voice. I know she will,” answered Neil, turning the key. He opened the door. “Bunnypop,” he called. “You home, honey? It’s Dad.”
He stepped inside. Dust swirled through the light from the kitchen window flecking gold and white. Neil went to the window and pushed the curtain wider so he could see in the shadowy room. The counters were bare, the burners on the range still covered. No power, he told himself, Of course she didn’t use the oven. Probably been using the wood stove to cook. He opened the cupboards above the sink just to see if they’d been eating enough. Completely empty. An old mousetrap in one back corner and some plastic tumblers was it. He frowned. Probably doesn’t bother using the kitchen. Wouldn’t be much use now. No water to wash anything, no fridge to cool everything, no way to cook in here. Probably a dead space. Knowing Joan she’s got a setup in the living room near the woodstove or maybe outside near the well. But the pans were all still hung neatly from the rack above the oven. He ignored them and opened the door to the living room. The old, sunken plaid couch still hulked across the back wall. The wicker coffee table was bare. It bothered Neil not to see a book or a puzzle scattered across it. Joan had constantly been after Randi to pick them up during their summers here. Maybe Randi finally got the hint, he thought. There was no wood in the bin next to the woodstove and the bricks beneath were swept clean. I’ll need to check the woodshed. She’s probably been making the remainder of the half-cord we bought last. Elijah and I will have to find a chainsaw or something. Get enough for the winter.
He headed up to the bedrooms still needing some kind of sign that they’d just stepped out. That they were only gone a day and he’d see them in the morning. But Randi’s bedroom was bare. The mattress had no sheet on it, just the way they always left it when they closed up the cabin for winter. No stuffed animal or doll perched on the little chair beside the window. Neil opened the dresser drawers one after another. Empty. All of them. They’re just rooming together. Safer that way. Just sleeping in Joan’s room. Less to heat in the winter, too. God, she’s so brilliant. He went into Joan’s bedroom. The same. Nothing. There was nothing to show they’d been here at all since the last summer he and Joan had been married. He pushed open the door to the bathroom, hoping, desperately hoping for something. Anything. A hairbrush. A towel or a bottle of nail polish or a pack of band-aids. The bathroom was bare. He went back and sat on the end of Joan’s bed. Our bed, his mind corrected, because it had been, the last time anyone was there. Where are you? What happened to you?
It was dark when Elijah came and sat beside him on the mattress. His flashlight made a silver circle on the pine dresser in front of them.
“I have to find her,” Neil said after several minutes.
“She was with a good number of people. Chances are she’s still with them. They probably found a big farm somewhere a lot closer than the cabin. Once they got away from the City, there’d only have been pockets of Infected. They would have been able to ha
ndle that. By now, they probably got a relatively safe place. Like those people near the big store. They were doing okay.”
“I have to know.” His body felt numb.
“I— don’t think you will, brother. I’m sorry.”
“I just have to keep looking.”
“Look where?”
Neil shrugged. “I’ll go back to the bus. Maybe I missed something. Go down the roads one by one until—”
“Until exposure gets you. Or the dogs. Or people lying in wait ready to steal whatever you’ve got. Or the Infected.”
“All that could have gotten her, too!”
“Yes, Neil. Yes, they could have. But you’re not going to know. Not even if you do that, go road by road, foot by foot until you die. You’re not going to know. So let’s believe they’re both living happily with another group, why don’t we? Let’s say that. For now. And maybe when those travelers come back in the spring, you can trade with them. Ask them if they’ve seen—”
“The travelers, yes! And she said there were bunkers, maybe Joan got into a bunker. Maybe they are still here. Or with that traveling group. I’ll find them and—”
Elijah grabbed his knee and squeezed until it was painful. “Neil! Stop. Take a breath. And ask yourself why you’re insisting on this.”
“Because I have to make sure she’s safe—”
“No. No, that’s not why you’re doing this. I could buy it until we got here. You could believe it until you got here. Your daughter is gone. She’s either safe and doesn’t need your help or she’s— or something happened and she doesn’t need anyone’s help anymore. It’s been two years. She’s not here, starving like you thought. She’s not here under siege from the Infected. We saw what the large concentrations of Infected are like now. Even an eleven-year-old could run from them. The stragglers— she was with people. They’d protect her. You aren’t doing this to make sure she’s safe. You’re doing this because you need her to forgive you. For becoming Infected or for not being the one to rescue her from the library or for taking so long to return to her. That’s why you came all this way. It’s what we all do. We look for someone or some thing to ease the guilt. Every single one of us. It never works. Even if she was sitting here, right here, and told you she forgave you, that she understood, you wouldn’t believe her. You’ve got to decide if you’re worthy of forgiveness for yourself. It wasn’t your fault that you were Infected. None of us even knew. None of us will ever know who infected us. And you did rescue her from the library because you saved Shay. You helped her the only way that you could. What you did while you were Infected— I wish I had some advice there. I don’t, because I haven’t been able to forgive myself for that either. But that didn’t touch your daughter or your wife. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself for Randi. And the others, the ones you hurt while you were sick, I don’t know what they’d say. Maybe that trying to live these days is going to be hard enough. Maybe that they want their lives to mean more than just a mouthful of meat and you, Neil, are going to have to be the one to build something better as a testament to them. You can’t fall down now. You can’t just sit here on this bed. And you can’t go running yourself down in a hopeless quest to find someone in this enormous mess. You and I— we need to fix what was broken. All of it. We need to start over. For us, for the people we killed, for the people still out there like Randi. And when she comes here, looking for some small, sweet part of her childhood, she needs to find you. And maybe a better life. Not an empty cabin. Come on. Tent’s set up. We’ll sleep there tonight and talk about what to do in the morning.” He got up and Neil followed him, still feeling like his limbs were dead and heavy.
They got to the porch before he really understood what Elijah was telling him. He stumbled down the steps and picked up his pack from where he’d left it. Elijah watched him put it on again and walk toward the end of the driveway.
“Where are you going?” Elijah called.
“To find my daughter,” said Neil.
Elijah jogged up to him and grabbed his shoulders. “There’s nowhere to go. There’s nowhere. No sign. Where are you going to go?” he asked gently.
“I told you. Back to the bus. I have to know.”
“You’re not going to. I know you’re upset. It’s getting late. There’s enough to be wary of during the day. Stay the night and we’ll figure it out in the morn—”
“Let go,” snapped Neil.
“No. You’ll get hurt.”
“I don’t expect you to come with me Elijah, but you need to get out of my way.”
“No. Sleep on it. If you’re still this adamant tomorrow, we’ll make a plan. The winter’s coming and—”
“You want to stop me because I can still have what you can’t. Randi’s still out there. I can still be her father. I didn’t kill my child,” Neil shouted. “So get out of my way.”
Elijah sucked in a wounded, whining breath and let go, stumbling back a step. “I only want to help you, Neil. I only wanted to be your friend.”
Neil felt a flare of guilt and hesitated for a moment. “I— I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that. If you want to help me you have to let—”
A light bounced down the end of the drive.
“Go back to the house,” he told Elijah.
“Are you crazy? I’m not leaving you out here alone,” muttered Elijah. He flipped open Neil’s pack, fumbling inside. “Where’s that hatchet?”
“It’s not an Infected. They’ve got a light.”
“Yeah, that doesn’t mean they’re safe. Where’s the hatchet?”
“Hello?” called a woman’s voice. “Are you there? I only wanted to say thank you.” The light came closer. “If you’re there, say something. I don’t want to shoot you if you aren’t a biter.”
Elijah sighed, realizing who it was. “We’re here,” he called. He flicked on his flashlight and swept it down the drive, revealing the woman from the graveyard. She was carrying a large stoneware jug in one hand and her flashlight in the other. The gun was still under her arm.
“I need you to stay,” Elijah said flatly to Neil. “I need you to stay until we can talk. I won’t try to persuade you anymore, but I need you to stay until then. We’ll make a plan. Can you do that much for me? Please, brother, for kindness’s sake.”
Neil was miserable and ashamed. He shouldn’t have lost it the way he had. “Of course,” he said. Elijah walked down the driveway to meet the woman. Neil went into the house with his pack. By the time the other two reached him, he had found a few citronella candles that Joan had kept by the sink for buggy evenings and lit up the kitchen table. The whole room looked even emptier than it had when the sun was still up. The stoneware jug clunked as the woman set it onto the table.
“Well,” she sighed, looking around at the sparsely furnished room. “I was hoping since you left me this afternoon that I was wrong. Hoping I’d find you here with your little girl getting dinner ready.”
“I— don’t think she’s been here since we were separated,” said Neil.
The woman nodded. “I am sorry for that. Maybe your family just hasn’t gotten here yet. The few roads I’ve seen haven’t been kept up. And there’s the biters to hide from, you know. Maybe they’ll arrive in the spring.”
“Maybe,” Neil agreed half-heartedly. Elijah watched him closely but didn’t interject. The woman stuck out her hand to Elijah.
“Wanted to thank you for the help. And apologize for shooting at you. You were just— such a fright after all this time. And on the day I lost Miguel, too.” The corner of her mouth quivered. “I’m Hazel-Lea and it’s a comfort to know you.”
“You’re welcome. Elijah,” he said and took her hand. Hazel-Lea turned to Neil and stuck out her hand again.
“Neil,” he offered. “I’m sorry we didn’t get here sooner.”
Hazel-Lea clucked her tongue. “None of that, now. Wouldn’t have made any difference. The only thing that would have changed the way today went is if there were some miraculous c
ure for this damned plague. And we all know that’s not going to happen. Not anymore.”
Elijah stepped firmly on Neil’s foot but said nothing. Hazel-Lea patted the jug. “Brought you a present, to say thanks. Last of the applejack, ‘less I find some more sugar somewhere. If you’ve got some glasses, I’ll be happy to have a drink with you. Better than going back to the house. I never like being outside the fences after dark. And it’s so empty now. No Miguel scratching on his door.”
“Sure,” agreed Elijah. Neil wanted to argue, to send her off so he could leave, too. But it was fully dark and Hazel-Lea’s face still had dirty tear tracks.
She’s lost everything too. We’ve all lost everything, Neil realized. Better not to be alone. She might hurt herself. We all might. So he just nodded and went to find the tumblers.
It didn’t take many glasses of the stuff for the tingling in Neil’s head to become a buzzing roar. Elijah had stopped after half a glass, saying one of them should stay straight, just in case, and he watched the two of them and dealt out a pack of cards he’d found in the junk drawer, playing solitaire while Hazel-Lea told Neil about the bunkers scattered around the acreage near the pond.
“Still stumble out once ‘n a while. Poor idjuts. You immune, right? Both you? Can’t catch it?”
“We can’t catch it,” said Elijah quickly.
“Good. ‘S good. Still in th’air you know.”
“That’s— not possible. It’d have to be passed from someone—”
“Is. Had a couple come out of their bunker last winter. Ran out of food. Stayed with us a few weeks and they got sick. Decent people. Took care of it themselves ‘fore I had to. Shame.” Hazel-Lea shook her head slowly.
“Was this after your husband got sick?”
“Couple months, yeah. Poor things.”
Elijah nodded but didn’t say anything. Neil was too fuzzy to bother telling Hazel-Lea the disease took that long to show symptoms anyway.
Before The Cure (Book 2): The Infected Page 31