by Tara Ellis
I’m still wearing the ill-fitting hospital scrubs, but he’s right. It’s not like I look like a body-builder or anything, but my arms are much more tone than before. I have always been athletic, but a little too lazy to hit the gym.
I gaze back at him, dismayed, but he’s still smiling. Taking deep breaths, I tell myself to relax. This is a good thing. So long as they don’t get any bigger.
“So does that mean these alien guys came here and built the pyramids?” Jacob asks. He’s smart for a ten year old.
“Maybe,” Chris answers. “Who knows how much of it could be memory and how much is just a mix of her own knowledge of things. But the whole mining aspect is very interesting. The Egyptians were obsessed with gold.”
“But if my dreams are actually memories, then they left their destroyed planted to try and start over. That just doesn’t fit with what has happened. Why in the world would they create the Holocene virus? Why did they build the pyramids here? Those people I was just dreaming about were not violent.”
“There are a lot of unanswered questions,” Chris agrees. “Maybe the senator will be able to fill in some of those gaps. With any luck, we can be there in a day or two. We’re less than two hours from Spokane.”
In the daylight, everything seems a little better. Less nightmarish. There have even been a couple of other cars on the road. It feels so good to be moving, to have a destination.
“What do you think, Mom?” Turning around in my seat so that I can see her better, I’m alarmed at her demeanor. “What’s wrong?”
Wringing her hands, she looks down into her lap nervously. She begins to say something, stops and finally turns to stare out the window.
“Mom, what is it?”
“I’m just not sure how to say it,” she whispers hoarsely, still avoiding my questioning, violet eyes. I give her a minute, my stomach clenching. It reminds me of the way I felt when Grandpa got the phone call that Dad was dead. I knew before he told me that something was horribly wrong. Something that was going to change my life forever.
“Alex,” she begins, finally facing me. “I should have told you a long time ago, but your father was always adamant that you never find out.” I’m shocked to see that she’s crying. Confusion has me tongue tied and I just wait for her to continue.
“When Adam and I first got married, we wanted nothing more than to start building our family. After two years though, we were both concerned that we might not be able to conceive. I was about to undergo some testing when your Grandpa Mubarak came to us.”
Seeing immediately where this is going, I wish that she would just stop talking. I don’t want to hear it. Dad was right.
“A distant cousin of your father’s had recently had a baby that she couldn’t care for. I believe she was sick or something. She didn’t know who the father was. Your Grandpa was able to arrange an adoption very quickly. He even brought you to us himself.” She chokes on the last words and can’t continue.
Jacob is looking back and forth between us in astonishment. Nate and Kyle are obviously uncomfortable to be a part of the scene and are doing their best to avoid eye contact. I watch Lisa reach across the seat and take Mom’s hand. A part of me registers the significance of this, but at the moment it’s lost on me.
“But everyone has always said how much Dad and I look alike.” I realize it’s a lame response, but it’s the only thing I can think to say. A warm tongue wets the back of my hand and breaks through my stupor. Locking eyes with Baxter, he regards me with a comprehension that exposes his intelligence. Wrapping my arms around his neck, I appreciate his calming effect, like always.
I’m adopted? How is that possible? My head spinning, I look up to Chris for support. “It doesn’t change anything, Alex,” he tells me. Of course he’s right, it just doesn’t feel that way right now. Everything feels upside down. Even more now, I can’t help but think there is a much larger picture that I am blind to. It makes me angry to consider that Seth is somehow involved, that he understands more than I do.
I have to focus. At this moment, the most important thing is that we’re all united. “It’s good that you told me, Mom. It’s okay. Really it is. You and Dad are my only parents, so it doesn’t matter.”
Unbuckling, she slides forward between the single chairs Kyle and Nate occupy, hugging me awkwardly over the back of the bench. Past her shoulder, I notice Jacob appears a bit lost. I motion him to us, and he gratefully joins in our embrace. “I’m so sorry, Alex,” she mumbles into my hair.
There are so many questions but I decide that for now, it’s best not to ask them. In the scope of what we’re facing, this can wait. Regardless of my bloodline, they are my family. The crystal skull flashes into my thoughts; that my blood didn’t activate it, and Seth’s remark about my heritage. Not now. Squeezing my eyes to push it all aside, I take another breath.
“You have nothing to be sorry for Mom.” Taking her by the shoulders, I do my best to appear calm. “You and Dad have been incredible parents. I was lucky that you chose to raise me. Let’s just forget about it, okay? We have much bigger things to stress over.”
“When did you get so mature?” she asks, wiping at her face. Jake seems relieved, and is already back to messing around with Kyle. The two of them have an on-going thumb wrestling tournament. Looking at everyone in the Tahoe, she sighs. “I guess we’ve all aged the past couple of months. Sacrifice will do that to a person.”
“But we’re the lucky ones. In spite of everything, we still have each other and at least we know how to fight this.” We’re all a bit surprised at Lisa’s comment. Studying her, I believe that she’s being genuine. Maybe, just maybe there really is hope for the thousands suffering from the same effects as her. It’s encouraging and, of course, she is absolutely right.
“Good point, Mom,” Chris says warmly. “We’ve all lost people that we love. Especially you guys,” he says to Nate and Kyle. Both of Nate’s parents died during the initial infection. Kyle lived with his Mom, and after recovering from The Shining, he couldn’t find her. He still doesn’t know where she went or what happened to her. His greatest fear is that she’s in the bottom of that pit back in Omak. He hadn’t seen his dad in over a year. He lives in Utah, but Kyle hasn’t heard from him since The Shining.
Being reminded of this puts things into perspective. It’s a part of human nature to hide away the emotions and memories that hurt. But in doing so, we lose our desire to fight and change what caused it in the first place. We can’t ever let that happen to us. A new surge of determination wells up within me and I sit a little straighter.
“We’ll never forget your parents, guys,” Chris tells them with a resolve that matches my own. “We’re going to fight back for them and everyone else who has been killed.”
His blue eyes welling up, Nate puts out his fist and Kyle firmly places his own on top. Following suit, we all reach out one at a time to join hands in the middle like a football team before the big game. Chris is last, covering my small hand with his much larger one. This is a silent huddle though, because nothing needs to be said.
SEVENTEEN
I managed to get almost an hour of sleep before we reached the outskirts of Spokane. I switched spots with Kyle so that I could recline and be more comfortable. I wake up to the sound of him and Nate debating where the turn-off is.
“I’m telling you, it’s the next road up here on the left. It’s only another mile or two.” Kyle is waving the paper around with the map on it.
“Kyle, if you paid attention to the mile markers,” Nate tries to explain, “you would have noticed that we just passed mile 35. The exit is number 28, so that means we have seven miles to go still.”
Fully awake now, I check the back seat and find that Mom, Lisa and Jake are all sound asleep. Good, they’re going to need their rest. Traffic has definitely picked up now that we’re closer to town. I wouldn’t call it busy by any means, but at least we aren’t the only ones out here.
Chris has finally had enou
gh of it and silences his friends. “For cryin’ out loud. Just tell me the exit number and I can figure the rest out!” I’m reminded that we all need to eat something, even if our nerves are stealing our appetites.
One of the extra bags we brought is full of snacks and I go in search of it. Fortunately, it’s on the floor behind my seat, so I don’t have to wake anyone up. Looks like Jake has already been into it. That’s not surprising, because nothing could stop him from eating.
I hand out candy bars and water to the three guys and they silently accept it, getting the point. “Here, Allie,” Kyle tells me, clumsily climbing and falling over the front seat. “I give up.”
Smiling, I take the map from him and hop over the bench with ease. I gave up debating the nickname with him a while ago. He insists that Alex is a boy’s name and chooses to call me what he considers to be the female variation. Whatever.
Nate was right, and as we approach exit 28, I confirm that it’s the one we want. The name of this side road is Sunset Street and hopefully we are reading the map correctly. It’s supposed to pretty much parallel I90, the main highway and after a couple of turns and other roads, meet up with the other highway leading into Cour’d’Alene in a roundabout way.
Pulling down the visor, I open the mirror and study my face. It will take some getting used to. It isn’t that my appearance is really all that different other than my eyes. I look like I came from a very good spa, even though I don’t have a hint of make-up on. I think my naturally thick eyelashes add to the effect. Leaning in closer, I try and determine how it must appear to other people.
“Chris?” I finally ask. Turning, I find that he is already studying me, a crooked smile on his face. “Just how weird do I really look? I mean, how much do my eyes stand out?”
“Well, they aren’t glowing at all right now,” he observes. “You know that’s only going to be noticeable in the dark or dim light. Honestly, I don’t think anyone is going to pay much attention unless they are up close or talking to you. Even then, while they’re unusual, they aren’t freakish. Kinda pretty, actually.”
Blushing slightly, I turn back to my reflection. I guess he’s right. They’re a dark violet, so from a distance might not even be conspicuous. In fact, I knew some girls who wore colored lenses, and I’m pretty sure violet was one of the options.
“No one is even going to associate eye color with Shiners,” Chris continues. “So long as you keep the glasses on at night or inside if the lighting is dim, I don’t think it’ll be an issue. Oh, and no super woman moves either.”
Laughing lightly, I close the visor and start eating my own candy bar. We’ll need some real food soon, but I figure that once we get to Missy’s we can deal with that. At the thought of Missy, my stomach does a little flip. I haven’t talked to her since her dad hung up on me over five weeks ago. What if none of them are there? Or what if they are, but Missy died or something? I don’t know how I would handle that.
All of the unknowns are probably the hardest thing about all of this. We’ve gotten so used to having everything so controlled and systematic. Barely more than a month ago, the worst thing that could happen to most of my friends was that their smart phone stopped working. Sighing, I look out at the empty wheat field rolling past. Our lives changed just as quickly as the landscape.
The mountains behind us now, we are surrounded by low, rolling farmlands. One of the unique features of Washington State is its ability to go from one climate to another in a very short space. We’re basically in the dessert now.
I know we’re getting closer to town because clusters of evergreens are starting to appear again. Even though we live within a few hours of Spokane, I’ve only been here a few times. I don’t like big cities, and I definitely consider Spokane one of them. They have several major hospitals, a University, and a military base right next to it, which adds to its population of more than 200,000.
While it feels good to be out of Omak and around other people again, it’s also unnerving. We have no idea what’s been happening here. The last news feeds we got were a few weeks ago and there had been mention of possible martial law going into effect. Even though we are on a side-road, it could still be barricaded. We don’t have any way of knowing until we get there. The fear already building for Missy intensifies.
This could be bad, but we don’t have much of a choice. There were some other highways we could have doubled back on and gone way North and back down again into Idaho, but we simply don’t have enough gas. If we knew we could get it somewhere on the way, we would have done that, but the last thing we need right now is getting stranded somewhere. We can’t risk it. Time is critical.
After another fifteen minutes or so, the trees and fields start giving way to a mix of businesses and houses. There are several people out walking around, but they seem to be studying us and I notice that there are fewer cars. This could be a problem. Up ahead at the next intersection, I can see an army jeep. While there isn’t any sort of barrier put out, there are uniformed soldiers milling around. I suddenly feel very vulnerable.
“I shouldn’t be in the front seat,” I say as I make my way into the back again. “You should go up front,” I tell Lisa, who’s been awake for a while now. She quickly follows my direction and is in place before we pass the jeep. It turns out to be unnecessary as they hardly take any notice of us.
“If they’ve been given any information, it’ll be to look out for me. I should stay back here until we’re out of the city.”
“I’m sure by now they know that we have all gone,” Chris adds. “Or at least that your family has run. The three of you should stay back there.”
We all agree and I continue to watch the buildings go by through the tinted windows. As we get deeper into town, I see more and more signs of unrest. There are even fewer cars, more people and lots of debris. It looks like most of the businesses are closed and the traffic lights aren’t working, so I think the power is off, too. Garbage is piled up all along the street edges and overflowing into the road in spots.
As we pass a woman holding a little boy’s hand, I notice how dirty they are. Lines streak his face where tears have fallen. They’re standing in front of a store-front that looks to have been set up as a food bank. I can see now that this is where most of the people are headed. A huge line extends for over a block, full of tired, dirty and weary looking people. Several armed soldiers stand by, herding them through.
“What are they doing?” Jacob is at my shoulder, trying to see out the window.
“Getting food,” I tell him. “There’s a lot more people who live here than at home. They probably ran out of stuff faster than we did and so the government is helping to feed them.”
“Why don’t they just go fishing or something?” I smile at his question, thinking back to all the fishing and hunting we have done over the years together, including this past month.
“This is a really big place, Jacob. Some of these people don’t even know how to do those things, and the ones who do might not be able to get to a lake or river. Notice there are hardly any cars besides us? They probably don’t have any gas here either.”
“I would just get on my bike and leave. Go into the woods and camp somewhere.”
“Yeah, I would too. I’ll bet you though that most of them think things are going to get better anytime now and are afraid to leave and that it might be worse if they do, especially if they have little kids.”
He sits back in the seat, tired of looking at the depressing scene. I can tell he is still reflecting on it though. I don’t think he realized until now that not everyone is like us.
The further into town we go, the worse it is. Burnt out cars litter the road and most of the windows at the street level are broken. There’s even shattered TV sets and who knows what else on the sidewalks.
“Looters,” Chris explains. “I’d like to think that our town wouldn’t have deteriorated like this, but maybe we’re lucky we got put under quarantine so fast.”
�
��Human nature seems to be one of self-preservation and violence,” Lisa observes. “Take away our security and watch how fast it all goes to hell.”
The mood in the Tahoe is somber as we travel the rest of the way, finally emerging from the destruction on the other side after almost half an hour. None of the soldiers try to stop us, or even seem to pay any attention to our passage. They have enough to worry about.
Chris makes the decision that there isn’t any reason not to get back on I90 at this point. We used more gas than expected already and the threat of a barricade is obviously not a concern.
We make up time rapidly and when the ‘Welcome to Idaho’ sign passes, we all let out a whoop of victory. In less than twenty minutes we’re entering Couer’d Alene and are back at the maps to figure out where to turn.
I’ve never been to Missy’s house so have no idea how to get there. Kneeling on the floor, I rest my elbows on the back of the front seat and look over at the map that Lisa is holding for Chris to study. We’ve pulled over at a truck stop off the first exit into town. Even though it’s nearly eight in the morning, the parking lot is almost empty. All the gas pumps are roped off, the store closed. There’s a restaurant next to it that looks open, but only a couple of cars are parked out front. At least nothing appears broken or vandalized.
“I think we took the right exit,” Chris is saying. “This street out here in front of us should curve to the left. Then in two more intersections, we turn left?”
“Yeah,” I agree. “She told me before it was across the street from a park, and isn’t that one there?” I ask, pointing at the green spot on the map.
Nodding, Chris pulls out and we are under way again. As we get closer, my stomach is in so many knots that I think I might throw up. Unable to sit still, I stay crouched on the floor, bobbing up and down. Kyle takes advantage of the situation and tries to kick my feet out from under me.
Instead of falling, I easily spin on him and land on all fours, ready to pounce. He recoils in his seat with such a horrified expression that I can’t help but laugh. I imagine my eyes must have been glowing a little in the dim light, and for some reason I find this even funnier. My laughter is contagious, and Nate eagerly joins in. Irritated at first, Kyle quickly recovers and waves us off. “Just wait,” he says, smiling now. “It’ll be when you least expect it.”