But he held his tongue, thinking he’d tell Willis about his symptoms after they’d cleared out a few houses and inched back toward home base. Plus, he was frightened at what the diagnosis might be. What if something was really wrong? What if he was going to turn into one of the crazed, biting and thrashing? He shuddered at the thought, spinning the tires as he picked up speed. Willis was stoic, sitting beside him, clearly filled with his own thoughts and fears.
Chapter 29
Lieutenant Daniels drove like a maniac to the outskirts of town, causing Alayna’s head to buck up against the glass.
“Can you not do that?” she said under her breath, wishing she’d been paired with any other person. Daniels was clearly a mental case, a man who’d seen combat for too many years and no longer knew how to see the outside world. Everything was danger—immediate. And she—a woman—was just something to look at. It was infuriating.
“I think we should start with that group of houses over there,” Alayna said, pointing toward the area where her mother’s parents had lived so long before. “I know a lot of older people live there. Maybe they’ve been left behind or couldn’t get out in time.”
Daniels scoffed but spun the wheel toward the houses, stopping short at the side of the road. He tapped his gun and turned toward her. “So, you’re sure you can protect yourself if we encounter any of those . . . crazies?”
“I think I can handle myself,” Alayna said, keeping her eyes toward the houses, searching for signs of life.
“Because, you know, I’ve killed many men,” Daniels said, clearly trying to flirt with her. “I can protect both of us if you want me to walk alongside you. I can even hold your hand if you get frightened.”
Alayna couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Her jaw dropped open. With a sudden movement, she flipped the door open and burst out, her focus on the business at hand. She heard Daniels’s heavy footfalls behind her as she headed toward the houses, and she furrowed her eyebrows, attempting to look ugly, haggard, serious.
“You know, I think you’re different than the other girls I’ve seen on forces across the country,” Daniels said, taking an easy stride beside her. “You’re definitely beautiful, for one. But you’re tough. Resilient. Many women I know wouldn’t have stayed behind like this, you know. You must have the kind of bravery I look for in a partner. In someone I could see myself with for good.”
“Hmm?” Alayna asked, hardly listening. Her eyes traced the dark windows of the homes, looking for any sign of light. The sun was drifting through the sky, casting narrow shadows along the ground.
“That is, if you could handle someone like me,” Daniels said, snorting slightly. “I only date if it’s worth my time. And, having been in the service for so long, being out in the field, saving both this country and others around the world, it’s a struggle to find women to suit my way of life.”
“Is that so?” Alayna said, marching toward the front door of the first house, rapping her knuckles against the wood. “HELLO?” she called, her voice shaking slightly. She hoped Daniels wouldn’t notice. She couldn’t look weak in front of him.
“Anyway, when this all blows over,” he continued, as they marched on to the next house, “I wouldn’t mind seeing where we could go.”
“What do you mean ‘we’?” Alayna asked, pursing her lips. She knocked on the next door, sensing no movement in the house. A neglected flowerbed sat beside the door, crackling and allowing the petals to fall. It saddened her and reminded her of another, better time: when the town had been flourishing. When they hadn’t felt the very real presence of danger.
“We could see each other. We could be with each other. I think you’d be pretty impressed with how I handle a woman in the bedroom—” Daniels began, his voice booming.
Alayna spun toward him, this last comment violating her and causing her brain to burn. “Excuse me? You won’t be handling this woman in the bedroom ever.” She thought briefly of Megan, waiting for her in Austin. She yearned to wrap her arms around her, to kiss her. They’d struggled in the past, sure. But didn’t all couples? Since their latest breakup, she’d eyed couples at restaurants, bickering, tossing nasty words at each other. She and Megan had been there before, and she always regretted it after each episode. Their love had been beaten down, but they always rebuilt it fresh each time. Now she could almost feel their love for one another stretch across time and space. She felt she could feel Megan thinking about her, all those miles away—assured she would make it out of the containment zone alive.
“Don’t be so rash, baby,” Daniels said, his voice dropping. “I could really be something for you. I could fulfill you in ways you couldn’t have dreamed.”
Alayna nearly spat in his face. “Listen here, Lieutenant. I wouldn’t sleep with you if you were the last man on earth. And I mean that, one hundred percent.” Her eyes flashed angrily. She stomped away from him and toward the last house on the block, her fists clenched after the intensity of her words.
But when she reached the red-painted doorway of this house, she was shocked to see that the door was popped open, and she heard a radio crackling inside. She felt Daniels’s presence behind her as she pushed open the door, revealing the shadowed interior.
Chapter 30
Clay parked near a subdivision on the outskirts of town, gazing at the empty streets. Ordinarily, on a day like this, children would be cycling, people would be out walking their dogs, holding hands with their loved ones. But today, the garage doors were down, like closed mouths. Windows were latched.
“Let’s just go one by one and knock on peoples’ doors, I suppose,” Clay said, shutting the car door with a bang that echoed across the emptiness. “Good to you?”
“Sure,” Willis answered.
They walked together silently, down the center of the street, and then broke off evenly, Clay marching up to the three-story house on the corner and Willis taking the ranch home across the street. Clay banged on the door, gazing into the windows, seeing nothing but darkness. An empty dog food bowl outside alerted him: they’d left, and they’d obviously taken the dog with them. Good.
He continued, keeping tabs on Willis’s trek on the other side of the street, his feet sinking into the perfectly mowed grass. He remembered when he was younger and had focused on the lawn a great deal more, ensuring that the weeds were eliminated, watching the way the mild green transformed into a rich, vibrant, almost rainforest green. Of course, when he’d taken the position of sheriff, he’d allowed the weeds to grow. He’d allowed the luster to diminish. The town become his yard. And he’d had to let some things go.
After the fifth house, Clay looked across the street to Willis. “Hey! You find anyone yet?” he asked, already knowing the answer.
“Nothing,” Willis called back. “Seems like they’re all gone.”
“Good!” Clay said. “Let’s head back to the car and move on.”
Willis began to drift from the front door of a two-story home, his head down, watching his steps. Clay was walking toward him when he noticed something moving behind the home’s big picture window.
“Willis!” Clay cried. “I think there’s someone—”
But before he could finish, a figure came crashing through the glass, screaming. The man, someone Clay recognized as his daughter’s second-grade baseball coach, lurched toward them, his eyes crazed, his skin almost green with illness. Scabs and lesions caked his arms and shoulders and neck, oozing blood and pus. Behind him, two teenage girls came crawling out, screaming and stabbing their fingers on the bits of leftover glass. They were converging on Willis, who had reached for his walkie-talkie, looking immediately defeated, like a drowning victim giving up on his lashing.
“WILLIS!” Clay cried, running toward him and the crazed monsters. He drew his gun and began to shoot, panic driving his trigger finger. A single bullet blasted through one of the girl’s shoulders, painting gore on the side of the house. She was hardly bothered and continued to stagger forward.
&nbs
p; Willis lurched back, but he wasn’t quick enough. The man brought his hands around Willis’s neck and then bared his teeth, tearing a bit of flesh from Willis’s shoulder. Willis let out a throaty scream. The sound rattled the windows and echoed through the barren street. He whipped back from the crazed, monstrous being just in time for Clay to push around him and plant a bullet directly in the monster’s head. The father of two, the ex-baseball coach, flung back on the perfect grass, sanguine fluid seeping from his brain.
On instinct, Clay turned and shot both girls in the forehead. They fell back, leaving him and Willis in complete silence, hearing only their own gasps of panic.
“Shit,” Clay whispered. “I thought we were in the clear. I thought we were okay.”
Willis turned his chin toward his shoulder, tapping at the wound. Blood oozed down his chest, painting his shirt. “I need to get my medical pack,” he whispered. “Jesus, this is deep.”
Clay ran back to his cruiser and grabbed the pack, opening it quickly and eyeing the gleaming tools, the thread and scissors, the bandages. “What do you need?” he asked, still gasping.
Using his good hand, Willis riffled through the bag, finding alcohol, ointment, and a massive bandage. He dropped to the ground, tearing his sleeve away from his body and tossing the blood-soaked cloth away. He began to douse the wound with alcohol, wincing as he did.
Clay stood beside him, hand upon his gun, his eyes searching the horizon. The very moment he’d assumed they were safe, it had become apparent that nothing—not this cardboard subdivision, not a seemingly empty afternoon—was safe any longer. He couldn’t let his guard down like that.
As he stood, the three dead crazed—three in a count of how many now—oozed dry beside him. His heart lurched with panic and pain. Just like the hairs on his head, he felt his inner sanity slip away, strand by strand.
Chapter 31
“Hello?” Alayna called. She searched the foyer and the living room without catching sight of a single figure. “Is anyone there?”
The radio was blasting out from the back part of the house. Alayna brought her hand to her gun, remembering the mania of the crazed, the way their brains had oozed out over the pavement. “I’m coming in!” she called. “Don’t make any sudden movements!” These were words she hadn’t spoken before—words that were reminiscent of a cop show she’d watched on television while growing up, dreaming of a better life.
“I don’t think anyone’s here,” Daniels said, his voice booming.
Suddenly, a woman appeared before them. She was thin, frail, her white hair like a halo around her head. Her eyes flashed with anger. She clutched a cast iron skillet and waved it through the air, almost on time with the ’50s radio station.
“What the fuck are you doing in my house?” the woman rasped. “Get out, you fools. Get out!”
Alayna recognized the woman but couldn’t place her name. She held up her hands. “I’m sorry, ma’am. We’re here to evacuate the entire town. We wanted to make sure everyone was aware.”
“Well, I’m not leaving,” the woman said, scowling. “I’ve lived in this house for twenty-five years, and I’m not leaving it for some government takeover. Believe me, it’s not worth it.” She sniffed. “My Hector built me this house. And now he’s gone, and it’s all I’ve got, damn it.”
Alayna took an additional step back, her boot squeaking on the linoleum. “I understand, ma’am. But know that nobody’s going to take over your house. If you stay here, you could die. We’re only evacuating everyone for the next thirty days. And then you can come back. You can have your life again.” She swallowed. “Please know that I can’t leave you here. It’s best if you come with us, now.”
The woman continued to glare, but she couldn’t find words. Her skillet dropped a bit in the air. She was losing steam.
“What’s your name, ma’am?” Alayna asked, noting that the woman didn’t appear ill. She didn’t exhibit any of the symptoms of the previously exposed. Not a single bit of sweat glossed over her forehead.
“I’m Norah,” the woman spat. “Who’s the asshole you brought in here?”
Alayna had to suppress the urge to laugh. “That’s Lieutenant Adam Daniels,” she said.
“Hello, ma’am,” Daniels said, standing beside Alayna, his gun in his hand, pointed toward the ground. “We have to get you out of here.” His words were insistent.
“He seems horrible,” Norah said, rolling her eyes. She dropped the skillet on the countertop beside her, gesturing for Alayna to come closer. Alayna stepped into the kitchen, listening to the swell of oldies music, and noting that the woman had been eating a can of soup with a spoon. The room seemed lonely and sad, and yet it was clean, glowing with Norah’s apparent scrubbing.
“It’s a beautiful house,” Alayna offered.
“Like I said, he built it,” Norah said, collapsing into a chair at the kitchen table. “And it’s all I have.”
“Norah,” Alayna whispered, knowing they were running out of time, “I was wondering if you would come with me, just for tonight. We can put you up in the hotel on Main Street until we can figure out where to send you, just until this all blows over. Do you have family somewhere?”
“I have a daughter in Charleston,” the woman said. “But she never calls.”
“Do you have her number?” Alayna asked.
“Of course I have her number,” Norah snapped. “She’s my daughter. Why wouldn’t I have it?”
Alayna heard Daniels sigh behind her. She was conscious of his eyes on her backside, on her naked neck.
“It’s okay, Norah,” Alayna said. “We’re going to get you there, no trouble. And then we’ll get you back to this house when they give us the all clear.”
“And you won’t take anything?” Norah asked.
“Not a thing. I promise. Nobody is going to break into your house. Nobody will have any reason to at all,” Alayna affirmed. “You’re just going to have to trust me on this one.”
Norah rose from the chair onto quivering knees. She glared back toward Daniels, clearly upset with his presence. “I’ll go with you. I wondered what the heck happened to everyone,” she murmured. “Although, I did see my neighbor Carl just this morning.” Her eyebrows furrowed. “He seemed strange. Off.”
Chapter 32
After the doctor patched himself up, strapping the bandage across his shoulder, Clay helped him back to the passenger seat, noting that the doctor was breathing heavily and still visibly frightened.
“Shit, man. I’m so sorry,” Clay offered, unsure of what to say. He was rattled himself—not because of the killing but because it didn’t bother him. He eyed the doctor as he cranked up the engine. “How’s your pain?”
“It’s not bad,” the doctor said gruffly.
Clay hesitated. “I’m wondering if maybe we should get you back to the hotel and renew the search in the morning.”
Willis shook his head. “If it’s all the same, I think we should keep going. All I’d do back at the hotel is writhe in self-pity and think about allowing myself to get bitten,” he said with despair. “Really. I can manage.”
“Maybe just a few more neighborhoods, then,” Clay said, still uncertain. “I should have been quicker with my gun.”
“Don’t worry about it. God knows I put enough antiseptic on this thing to kill off the bubonic plague,” he joked.
Clay steered the car toward the next neighborhood, his anxiety and panic high. He parked in front of a group of homes, noting that the doctor’s bandage had already begun to bleed through. “Maybe you should patch that up again. I’ll check out the houses. You stay here.”
The doctor agreed, sighing slightly and allowing his head to droop forward. Clay noted that the doctor had begun to sweat, albeit lightly. He hoped this was simply a result of the increased anxiety rather than one of Clay’s own symptoms.
“Okay. I’ll be right back,” Clay affirmed, bolting from the car and sprinting toward the houses. He rapped on several doors without an
swer. He’d begun to feel that everyone had abandoned their homes and followed their instructions, that this was a waste of time. He could be far away, heading toward Austin—toward his wife and daughter—ready to take a much-needed break from these treacherous events. In a few years, this would seem like a dream.
The final house on the block had a single light blaring in the back room. Anxious, Clay knocked on the door loudly, calling out. “Hello? Is there someone there?” He turned back, eyeing his cruiser, noting that the doctor had leaned his head against the window and closed his eyes.
Moments later, the light snapped off. Clay lifted his gun from his holster, uneasiness passing through him. “HELLO?” he cried again, knocking once more. He took several steps back, then pummeled his body into the wood, feeling the door creak. “I’m going to shoot through your windows if you don’t let me in!” he called again. Whoever it was, he needed to get them out. Immediately. He wouldn’t be responsible for a meaningless death.
Finally, he heard someone behind the door, unlocking the bolt. A small face appeared in the crack, looking at him with big, hopeful eyes. Immediately, Clay recognized the woman. He nearly dropped his gun with surprise.
Chapter 33
Alayna’s heartbeat surged. “What do you mean ‘off’?” she asked.
“He was marching half-naked through my backyard, drooling all over himself. I mean, the man’s almost seventy-five, sure. But he should know how to control himself.”
“Do you know where he went?” Alayna asked, realizing that this man, Carl, had become one of them—one of the crazed—he’d turned..
Humanity's Edge- The Complete Trilogy Page 9