Ralph began to shut the door in a panic, yelling. But Dr. Miller thrust his hand through the opening, ensuring that the latch didn’t engage. Ralph wasn’t quick enough. The doctor lunged from the door, pushing Ralph onto his back and smashing into a pile of dishes.
Norah acted quickly. Her lithe fingers wrapped around a skillet, and she flung it at Dr. Miller’s skull, gashing him directly above his eyes. He turned toward her, angry screams bursting from his wide mouth. Norah backed through the kitchen, waiting, accepting her end. She watched the kitchen light gleam against the monster’s glistening blood. She should have died in some sad, beeping hospital, surrounded by silly plants and Get Well Soon cards.
But the dead man was too dilapidated to get far. His leg, which had begun to mold during his stint in bed, gave out under him, and his body crashed to the ground. His flailing arms thrashed against a stack of dishes. The white saucers shattered across the floor, crashing into Brandon and Norah’s shoes.
The monster didn’t quit. He scrambled to his hands and knees and began to crawl toward Brandon, his tongue lolling from his mouth. Brandon backed wildly into a corner, waving a skillet in the air. “GET AWAY FROM ME. GET BACK,” he screamed, tears rolling down his face. As the monster crawled, splinters from the white plates sliced his hands, coating the floor in his poisoned blood.
But just before the dead man reached Brandon, Clay burst in, his gun held high. He brushed past Norah and launched two bullets directly into Dr. Miller’s skull, splattering blood across the sinks and wall. The body, nearly headless, flung across the floor, lifeless.
Alayna and Daniels rushed into the room right behind Clay. Brandon sputtered with panic in the corner, and Norah joined Ralph still lying on the floor, suddenly feeling closer to him after the terrible encounter. They all looked at Clay with large, childlike eyes.
Clay shoved his gun back into his holster, sweat pouring down his face. “Shall we find something else to eat, then?” he said, and Norah was surprised at the strength of his voice. “I think steaks might be out for now.”
Chapter 57
In the short time that followed, Clay, Alayna, and Daniels rewrapped the plastic around Dr. Miller’s body and lowered him into a shallow grave Daniels had dug almost two miles away from the hotel. As they entombed the doctor, Ralph, Norah, and Brandon undertook the terrible burden of cleaning the kitchen, scrubbing the bloody floors and walls silently, with even Ralph unable to find words. Despite their different backgrounds, the remaining survivors ached with a similar, silent melancholy.
Norah prepared a massive pot of steaming pasta and a seasoned marinara sauce. Brandon found some bread and sprinkled it with garlic and cheeses, creating his once-favorite treat. The survivors no longer felt hunger in the traditional sense. Rather, they ached with an emptiness that extended down to their toes.
At around midnight, Daniels soldiered up the steps with a massive dining room table, placing it in the center of the bar room. He brushed his hands over his pants, shrugging toward Alayna. “I found some linen tablecloths downstairs. You think we should—”
Alayna nodded silently. She followed him, collecting the tablecloths, several candles, silverware, and plates and creating a prim and proper table—fit for a Thanksgiving dinner. Norah looked on with approval, her eyes catching the light of the candles. “If only we had flowers,” she said, drifting her hand down Alayna’s back. “Imagine how beautiful.”
“As usual, I suppose, we’ll have to make due,” Alayna whispered.
The remaining survivors—excluding Leland Jacobs, locked away in his hotel room—gathered around the table and held hands in a tight circle, gazing at each other incredulously and allowing the dinner smells to course over them. Clay searched for the proper words to say. Perhaps a prayer? he thought. But in the moments that followed, he collapsed into his chair, and the others followed suit. He couldn’t possibly make this okay.
They ate quickly and quietly, gobbling strings of spaghetti and spinning their forks through the sauce. Clay eyed Norah, sensing a slight twinge of pride within her. This was a glorious, fulfilling meal, already bringing life to the survivors’ cheeks.
With a final flourish, Clay swiped a piece of bread over the last bit of sauce from his third helping before rising from his chair and creeping down the hallway, centered on his plan. As he moved, he felt thankful for each breath, for the blood that pumped through him. What a miracle it all was, he thought. He supposed everyone thought that in the end.
He opened Jacobs’s door to find him leaning stiffly against the wall, his knees bent, but his face firm and docile. Clay gestured toward the hallway. “Come out, Leland,” he said. This was his peace offering. It was all going to end soon anyway.
Leland didn’t speak. He followed Clay into the dining room, where the other survivors surveyed him with suspicion.
“You didn’t handcuff him?” Daniels asked, his eyebrows lowering. “We can’t trust him, Clay.”
Clay shrugged lightly, eyeing Jacobs, who looked like no monster with his lanky arms and dark eyes. “Adam, it’s the end. We’re all going to die in a matter of hours. All of us. And I don’t think Leland’s last night on earth should be spent alone.”
No one spoke. Norah creaked from her chair and filled a plate for Jacobs, setting it at an open seat and pouring him a glass of wine. “Come on, honey,” she said. “Eat up. You must be starved.”
Leland sat primly at the edge of the chair, clearly conscious of everyone’s eyes upon him. He thanked them, his eyes far away, and then he gratefully stuffed a large bite of spaghetti into his mouth. Somehow, with this very human act, the room warmed to him.
“I’m going to play a record,” Ralph said, pushing away from the table and walking to the vinyl collection at the far wall. He slipped an old Johnny Cash record onto the turntable. When he returned to the table, tears were rolling down his cheeks. “This was Connie’s favorite album. Strange to think that tonight will be the last time I ever hear it.”
“We can play it all night long,” Norah said, giving him a smile.
Daniels retrieved several more bottles of wine and began to refill everyone. Clay gazed at his comrades, the final people of his life, and images of his wife and daughter flashed through his mind. He’d had so much hope for Maia’s future. And he’d loved Valerie as best as he’d been able to since he’d first seen her as a teenager. With his eyelashes fluttering against his cheeks, he thanked the wide universe for those gifts. And he quietly gave them up, understanding that he could no longer have such happiness or such freedom ever again.
Chapter 58
Hours later, the survivors drunkenly stumbled to their individual rooms. As they walked, Leland smacked a friendly palm against Clay’s back, nodding firmly. “Thank you for that,” he said, his eyes far away. “I needed it.”
Clay nodded silently as he stepped into his room and closed his bedroom door. His ears still rang with Johnny Cash tunes. He collapsed upon his bed, fully clothed, his legs stretched out in front of him. He drummed his fingers against his taut stomach, trying to force the room to stop spinning.
Suddenly a knock came from the door. Clay cleared his throat, calling out, “Come in!”
Alayna appeared in the soft light from the hallway. Her black hair coursed down her shoulders and back, making her face look youthful and rather pretty, even with the slight mascara caked around her eyes from crying. “Mind if I come in?” she asked.
“Course not,” Clay said, beckoning. He rose up, leaning heavily against the bed’s backboard. Alayna sat next to him, staring at her kicking feet. “Quite a night we’ve had, huh?” Clay offered.
“Quite a night,” Alayna agreed. “I—I just don’t want to be alone.”
Clay felt the depth of her sadness. He reached for her shoulder, kneading at her tense muscles. “I know. Neither do I,” he said. “Too many thoughts to think. Too many memories.”
“Tons of memories from our time together,” Alayna agreed, smiling sadly. “I s
till remember my first day as your deputy. I was so frightened of you, until you took that bite of your burger.”
“And got mayonnaise all over my uniform. Yep. I remember,” Clay said, shocked at how easy his laughter came. “I couldn’t pretend to be any kind of big shot around you after that.”
Alayna smiled. “I was so confused about everything. But not about my career. I felt at home with you. I don’t know if that makes sense.” She looked at him, her vibrant, youthful body brimming with sexuality. Clay turned toward the window, alarmed by his sudden attraction to her. But he kept up the conversation, not wanting her to return to the hall.
“I know what you mean,” Clay said, sensing them ebbing toward unknown territory. “You were my work wife for all those years. I couldn’t have imagined having anyone else on the force.”
“A work wife?” Alayna said, giggling. “That’s such a sexist remark.” She smacked her palm lightly against his shoulder.
The moment he felt her touch, his pulse quickened. What was going on?
“I didn’t mean to offend,” Clay said. “I mean, all bets are off here, right? I’ve grown to care about you like family. You must know this.”
Alayna didn’t speak for a moment. The silence held between them. Clay swallowed, wondering if he’d crossed some kind of line. His drunken words had surely given her pause.
But Alayna tried to bridge the gap, to lighten the mood. She swiped at her tears. “Daniels tried to hit on me. What a bum, you know? But you know what I told him? I told him that I wouldn’t be with him if he was the last man on earth. It feels rather fitting, now,” she said, grinning. Suddenly, her eyes turned to Clay’s again. She lifted her face. “I don’t know how I would have reacted if it had been you. Probably very, very differently.”
Clay’s lips parted. In a moment of passion, he leaned toward her—his deputy, one of his best friends—and kissed her fully, wrapping his lips around her large bottom one. His head spun with the pleasure of it. Alayna’s scent coursed through his nose, making his groin stir.
Seconds later, he broke the kiss. “I can’t,” he said, wiping his fingers over his mouth. “I’ve never been unfaithful to Valerie. I’ve never even been with anyone else. Sure, I’ve always found you attractive. But I’ve never, in my wildest dreams, considered acting upon those feelings.”
Alayna tilted her head and lifted her hand to his cheek, stroking his grizzled cheek. He eyed her breasts, rising and falling beneath her white undershirt. “But Clay,” she whispered, “I’m the last woman on earth. And tomorrow, none of this will matter. We’ll all be dust tomorrow.”
Clay contemplated her words for a long time. Finally, he dove into her. He wrapped his arms around her, clinging to her, and kissed her fully, without looking back. They became a flurry of wild limbs, tossing clothes to the floor and fulfilling a destiny they’d never really imagined. Clay felt the warmth and smoothness of her skin as he unsnapped her bra. Thoughts of the outside world or of their impending doom no longer filled him. Rather, his mind and body and spirit were fueled with thoughts of Alayna only.
They made love deep into the night.
Chapter 59
When Clay awoke, Alayna wasn’t in his bed. He stretched out beneath the sheets, feeling his bones creaking, remembering how wonderful it had been to coil himself around her warmth, to listen to her breathing as she fell into sleep. The feeling didn’t last, though. Waves of regret plummeted through his mind.
With a jolt, he remembered this was the last day of his life. He dropped his feet to the frigid ground, dressed, and opened his door, listening. Down the hallway, at the bar, he caught images of several of the survivors, holding pots and pans and speaking amicably.
He joined them, noting that he was the last of the party to awake. Alayna sat at the edge of the bar holding a mug of coffee. She gave him a sideways smile, looking sheepish. Norah had cooked several omelets, a large vat of breakfast potatoes, and sausages, and someone had set the table again: a reminder that, for these hours only, they were still human. They could still appreciate beautiful things.
Alayna sat across the table from him. She eased her foot along his beneath the table, unbeknownst to anyone else. This was their secret, their first and final affair.
“Let’s eat,” Daniels said, diving into the bowl of potatoes and filling his plate. The others followed suit, eating heartily without speaking. Their final sustenance was salty and greasy and good, filling Clay’s hungover stomach and making him feel whole again.
As their forks and knives began to clink back to their plates, Jacobs cleared his throat, wiping his napkin over his lips. His eyes were dark, ominous. “I have something to say,” he began.
Clay turned toward him, curious. “What is it?” he asked, standing as the spokesperson for the wide-eyed crew of survivors. “Whatever it is, you can tell us.”
Jacobs sighed heavily, splaying his palms on the table. After a brief hesitation, he began. “I’m the cause of all of this,” he said.
“But, the meteor—” Norah gasped.
Jacobs shook his head, interrupting. “No. Norah, I’m sorry. Just let me finish.”
Clay was frozen, his emotions in turmoil. He couldn’t feel anger. It wouldn’t be worthwhile. He wanted to think of Valerie, and what a beautiful life they’d had together, but all he could think of was the passion he and Alayna had shared last night. He knew he should feel terrible, but in the end, he just wanted to feel.
“You said you wanted to know who I am. Well, I’m a scientific researcher contracted by the Department of Defense. I’m involved in the creation and development of nanite technology for the military. Carterville was chosen as one of the locations for this development. I can’t say why. I wasn’t involved in that decision.
“The research and experimentation was, initially, going quite well. We hoped to inject nanites into human hosts, with the intent of giving humans higher strength, above-average mental aptitude, and increased stamina. All things you’d expect and want in a soldier, yes?”
No one answered him. He had the floor. The air was electric with the others’ focus on his words.
“Throughout the experiment, the nanites continued to die off after a very short period, after around forty-eight hours. This was not the desired effect. Extending their lifetimes was dangerous. But of course, in the interest of science and research, we wanted to push their effectiveness and activity period. It was one of the higher-up’s idea to have the nanites learn to replicate themselves, thus extending the duration of their effectiveness.
“At first the experimentation had resounding success. But then, something changed. The nanites became autonomous and started taking over the human host, until the takeover was irreversible. You see, once the nanites have a human host, they can continue to survive indefinitely. The next step in their evolution was that they figured out a way to jump from host to host. They’re really quite extraordinary, almost intelligent. And . . . the only way to stop them is by ceasing all brain activity in the host.”
Clay remembered the moment that he’d lifted his gun to Cliff Henderson’s crazed head, blasting grey matter across the jail cell wall. He shivered. It felt like a million lifetimes ago.
“As you’ve probably seen, once the nanites mutate, they create psychotic behavior in their hosts.”
“The people who attacked my sister?” Brandon breathed, his face calm, accepting the words. Everyone else remained silent, allowing the truth to unfold before them. It was far more horrifying than they’d initially thought. It was purposeful.
“She died?” Jacobs asked.
Brandon nodded almost imperceptibly. “She was mauled by those . . . monsters. Just like my parents were.”
“I’m afraid so,” Jacobs continued, bowing his head. “And the meteorite? That was just a fluke. A lucky, cosmic event that allowed us to hide what was truly going on. In the end, we were able to evacuate the city without divulging the nature of the DOD project. How about that.” He dropped his han
ds into his lap, clearly irritated, wanting the story to be over. But he continued.
“When I signed on for this job, I knew the risks involved. I did. I knew this could happen—although it was highly unlikely.” He tilted his head, mulling over his words. “But here we are, with this outbreak ultimately contained inside the energy field. The fumigation that Colonel Wallace described is just a ruse. The solution is much more extreme. There’s a neutralizing device that will go off, and the moment it does—in just a few hours—all living tissue in the containment zone will die. This way, the world outside will remain safe from this humanity-destroying catastrophe.” He paused, finalizing his story. “So you see, we have to die here. But we’re doing it so the rest of the world can live.”
“But we saw them on the outside,” Norah whispered. Her eyes traced toward Clay’s. “Didn’t we? We saw them. Outside the energy field?”
Clay nodded. The nightmarish recollection of the crazed rushing toward them from the burning, smoking vehicle on the highway before fizzling into blood and guts during their attack made him see red. Clay scoffed, suddenly wishing he hadn’t eaten so much breakfast. “Leland, it seems that your brilliant and reckless plan is far too late. It’s too late for everyone, not just for us.”
Chapter 60
“What do you mean, outside?” Jacobs asked, his voice coming harshly. “How could they?” He breathed heavily, his eyes dancing as he panicked, thinking. “The nanites simply can’t be transferred from host to host by mere proximity alone. There would have to be some form of viral transfer. So it’s rather unlikely that those people retrieved the nanites just by sitting next to someone.” He eyed Clay, waiting for answers.
Humanity's Edge- The Complete Trilogy Page 16