Origins (The Becoming Book 6)

by Jessica Meigs

  That was, of course, assuming Gray would actually talk to him. In the long days that had passed since they’d taken shelter at their old family home, they hadn’t spoken two words to each other. Gray, especially, had seemed to take an active attempt to avoid him, and Theo wasn’t sure why Gray was so sullen and withdrawn. He hadn’t concerned himself with it too much before then; he’d been too busy getting supplies together and coming up with assorted plans for different scenarios that could have arisen, all while trying to cope with what had happened to Dillon. Theo had figured that Gray was in shock from everything that had happened so far, on the street, on the television, and on the Internet—before it had all stopped working. They weren’t getting any television stations anymore, just snowy static. The radio stations had stopped broadcasting new information the week before, though there were a few clearly automated stations still playing top-forty hits. The Internet had gone down about two days after they reached the house, thankfully not before an overnight intensive effort at information gathering.

  Since they’d lost all their connections to the outside world, they’d been flying blind, save for the occasional broadcast made by amateurs over an old ham radio system Theo had dug out of the attic. Gray spent a lot of his time in his room with the radio, the door locked so Theo couldn’t check in on him and see how he was doing.

  Theo tore himself out of his thoughts and focused back on the task in front of him. In his room-by-room search of the house, he’d stumbled across a Smith & Wesson revolver in his parents’ old bedroom, along with half a box of ammunition, and now he was kneeling on the floor at the coffee table, trying to figure out how to clean the revolver, an Internet printout his only guide. Considering he knew next to nothing about guns, it was proving more challenging than he’d expected.

  Theo sighed and set the gun down on the table with a shake of his head. The diagram and list of instructions read like Greek to him, and he squinted at it again, trying to figure out what in the hell he was looking at. A heavy sense of helplessness settled over him. The idea of being able to protect Gray from all the shit going on outside suddenly seemed absurd in the face of his inability to even clean a gun. He dropped his head to rest against the edge of the table, rolling it from side to side. It wasn’t time to fall apart. He had too much to do, too much on his shoulders, to let the stress take over and derail everything he was trying to keep together.

  Footsteps on the stairs drew his attention from his own pity party, and he sat up straight, wiping at his eyes in an effort to erase the tiredness and stress from them. He snatched the gun up and grabbed the first page of cleaning instructions, narrowing his eyes and trying to look like he’d been focused on it and not silently bemoaning his lack of ability. There was a skip to Gray’s step as he took the last few before thumping down to the first floor. Theo heard him go to the kitchen, the rattle of plastic as he pulled a bottle of water from the dwindling package on the counter, and the crack as he opened it, and then the footsteps started to move again before stopping somewhere behind him.

  “You look confused,” Gray said to his left. Theo cut his eyes over and saw him loitering in the living room doorway, rolling the bottle of water between his hands. “No, strike that. You look totally lost.”

  “I think I am,” Theo admitted sheepishly. He set the gun down on the table and turned to look at Gray, getting his first good study of his brother in nearly three weeks. Gray looked tired and pale, a bit thin, the dark circles under his eyes hinting that he hadn’t been sleeping well. Theo could sympathize. He ruffled his fingers over the edges of the instruction manual. “Are you…okay?”

  Gray took a swallow from his bottle. “Why wouldn’t I be?” he asked nonchalantly. Theo bit his tongue to keep from making a smartass comment in reply. Gray’s eyes scanned the coffee table, and he moved forward and flopped onto the couch. He picked up the Smith & Wesson and the tools Theo had dug out. Not bothering to look at the instructions, he began to clean the revolver with practiced ease.

  “How’d you learn to do that?” Theo asked, leaning his elbows against the table to watch.

  “Dad showed me ages ago,” he answered, “back when he bought it for Mom since he was gone all the time on business and didn’t want her here without a gun she could use.”

  “Wonder why he never showed me how to do all that,” Theo mused.

  “Because you never acted like you were interested in this kind of thing. Besides, you never were very good with the mechanical stuff like this. No offense.”

  “None taken.” Theo sat back and let his brother work in silence for a moment before he spoke again. “Are you mad at me?”

  “Why would I be mad at you?” Gray’s question was casual, but Theo could hear an undercurrent of tension beneath the words. “If anything, you should be mad at me.”

  “That’s just my point,” he said. “You’ve been hiding in your room for almost three weeks now.”

  “Has it really been that long?”

  “Look, Gray, tell me what’s wrong so I can fix it, okay? I can’t deal with this whole silent-treatment bullshit you’re doing. Especially not with everything the way it is. It ever occur to you that I can’t do it all on my own? That maybe, just maybe I could use a hand down here getting all our shit together while you’re busy holing up in your bedroom doing God knows what?”

  Gray sat up straight then, looking right at him, and delicately set the revolver down on the table between them. Then he stood and, without another word, headed up the stairs, taking them two at a time. After he was out of sight, somewhere above him, Theo heard a door slam open and the sound of Gray banging around upstairs. His shoulders slumping, he felt like slapping himself. He’d approached the whole thing in the wrong way; he’d never been good with confrontation, and he knew that.

  Theo headed for the stairs, intending to go up and apologize to Gray for whatever he’d done to slight him. Before he made it halfway across the room, the sound of Gray walking down the upstairs hallway brought him to a stop. He looked up at the staircase as Gray descended it, two books in his arms. One Theo immediately recognized as the family Bible, the one with all the generations of the family tree filled in in an assortment of handwritings from various family members. The other he’d never seen before: a thick black notebook, like a journal. When he reached the living room, Gray set the Bible reverently on the coffee table beside the revolver and then dropped the black book on the table beside it with a loud smack.

  “Never once asked you to do it on your own, Theo,” Gray said as Theo stared down at the book. “I’m not just sitting in there being useless. I’m actually doing stuff with my time. Useful stuff.”

  Theo leaned down, picked up the book, and flipped the cover open. The first page was filled with Gray’s cramped, miniscule handwriting, from one edge of the page to the other, disregarding the red lines demarcating the margins. He turned several pages, finding the notes going halfway into the book, every page absolutely covered in Gray’s handwriting, back and front. He shook his head in bewilderment and looked up at him. “What the hell’s all of this?”

  Gray sat back down on the couch and resumed where he’d left off cleaning the revolver. “I’ve been listening on the radio, and taking notes. Lot of information’s being passed around on that thing.” He nodded toward the Bible. “Those maps we printed out from the Internet before it went down? I’ve been taking notes on those too.”

  It was then that Theo focused on the papers sticking out of the thick Bible. He pulled some of them free and discovered that handwriting covered the maps. Some of the streets were colored in with a red marker, and notations next to them labeled traffic jams, vehicular pile-ups, and cryptic notations that said “infected.”

  “What’s this mean?” Theo asked, holding up one of the papers and pointing to the label.

  “Infected? That’s what they’re calling them on the radio. ‘The infected.’ They’re people who have gotten sick from whatever it is going around. That bullshit they w
ere spewing on the TV about riots and shit was just that: bullshit. Turns out I was a hell of a lot closer to guessing right than I thought.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It’s a virus,” Gray said. “Near about as anybody can tell, anyway.”

  “What’s the vector?” Theo asked. When Gray raised a questioning eyebrow, he clarified, “How is it transmitted?”

  “They said it can get passed on through blood or spit, mostly. Nobody knows much of anything past that. Just that they like to pass on the virus by biting.” He closed an eye and squinted down the barrel of the revolver.

  “What happens if you get the virus?”

  “You get really sick,” Gray answered. “And you die. Or sort of die. I’m not totally clear on that. Then after that, you go…well, crazy. They say that people with the virus are eating people.”

  “Like zombies,” Theo conceded.

  “Yeah, exactly.” Gray looked up at him. “Once you get the virus, you’re gone. There is no cure.”

  “Figures,” Theo muttered.

  “So what are our options?” Gray asked. He refocused on the weapon in his hands, and Theo set the black journal down beside the Bible with a low, thoughtful hum.

  “We might have to make a run for it,” Theo said. “We’re almost out of water and getting there with the gas for the generators. The stove’s electric, so we can’t boil water, and I saw some of those… infected out near the end of the driveway a couple of days ago when I went out to check the house. I’m not sure it’ll be safe to stay here much longer. We should start getting our stuff together to move out. Do you know if Mom and Dad had any other guns?”

  “Nope,” Gray said. “Just the hunting rifles Dad used to use, and I already checked on those. There’s no ammo for them. You know he pretty much stopped hunting about a year or so before…before he died.”

  “Yeah, I know.” Theo sat down on the couch beside him, reclining back against the cushions. “I don’t think it’d hurt to take one with us, though. We might come across some ammunition for it at some point, right?”

  “I’ll take a look at them later on,” Gray promised.

  Theo studied Gray’s profile for a moment as he continued his work on the revolver. Gray seemed to be very carefully, very pointedly not looking at him. It took everything in Theo to not reach over and slap him on the back of the head. Theo hated it when Gray got in those moods, where he acted like Theo had done something to affront him but wouldn’t talk to him or even tell him what it was he’d done. He didn’t do it often, but when he did do it, it made Theo want to inflict bodily harm on him.

  “Gray, seriously, what did I do?” Theo pleaded, giving up on anything resembling subtlety. “You’re being a moody little shit, and while the world’s turned into a steaming pile of it, I don’t appreciate you taking it out on me. We should be working together, not hiding from each other for weeks on end.”

  Gray was silent for a long moment, and when he spoke, his voice was quiet, almost sheepish. “You yelled at me. Talked to me like I was an idiot.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “It’s stupid, I know. But damn it, you’re always talking to me like that. I don’t think you’ve even noticed you do it. I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself and even you under normal circumstances, you know.”

  “These aren’t exactly normal circumstances,” Theo protested, but Gray put up a hand to stop him.

  “Don’t even start with that,” he said. He didn’t raise his voice, but Theo still couldn’t help feeling chastised. “The situation is bad. I’m well aware of that. Believe me, I’ve been face to face with the situation, and it hasn’t been pleasant, as I’m sure you’re aware. But just because things are bad, that doesn’t mean you’re in charge simply because you’re older, okay? Something like this, it requires teamwork. I can’t do a lot of stuff. I’m well aware of that too. Heavy lifting, extensive running, I can’t do it. I got that. However, there’s a lot of stuff I can do. One of those things happens to be that.” He motioned toward the Bible and the journal. “I’m asking you to treat me like an equal, not like your annoying little brother.”

  “Okay,” Theo said immediately. “Okay, fine. Why couldn’t you have told me all of this three weeks ago?”

  “Because I wasn’t sure you’d listen to me three weeks ago,” Gray replied. “God knows you barely paid me any attention the minute we go out of downtown Plantersville. It was like I’d exceeded my usefulness the minute I hotwired the Camry and handled the problem with Dillon.”

  Theo felt a pang of pain in his chest at Gray’s words. “I don’t want you to get sick again,” he said. “I don’t have much medication, especially considering I can’t exactly load you up and take you to the hospital if you stop breathing. I don’t want you to do too much. You can hardly fault me for that.” He dropped his head back against the cushions again. “Look, enough of this. The last thing we need to be doing is bickering with each other when there’s more important shit going on outside. I apologize for unintentionally treating you like crap and not asking for your help like I should have. I was still trying to get a handle on everything going on, and I didn’t know you were feeling touchy about it.”

  Gray looked like he wanted to snap back at him about the touchy comment, but instead, he just sighed. “Fine. Apology accepted. I offer my own for being a hermit for three weeks. So what do you propose we do, since we’re running out of water and gas?”

  Theo contemplated his brother’s face again, considering everything he’d said in his lengthy-for-him speech a few minutes prior. He wanted to be more involved with their survival. Theo acknowledged that he could deal with some of the weight and stress being taken off his shoulders. Certainly, no one would hear him complain about it. So rather than answer Gray’s question, he put forward one of his own. “What do you think we should do?”

  Gray glanced at Theo out of the corner of his eye. “You’re asking me?” he asked, the surprise evident in his voice.

  Theo looked pointedly around the room. “Well, I sure don’t see anybody else in here that I could be asking,” he said. “I want to know. What do you think we should do?”

  Gray gave the revolver a final wipe-down with a cloth and set it on the coffee table. “We should go to Tupelo.”

  “Tupelo?” Theo repeated. “But…that’s way bigger than Plantersville. There’s bound to be more crap to wade through in Tupelo than here. And it was hell getting through here to begin with.”

  “Yeah, true,” Gray conceded. “But while there’s bound to be more infected, there’s bound to be more survivors too. Maybe some who’ll be willing to give us a hand. We’d have more options for food and water and pharmacies, if you want to break into another one of those. We don’t even have to go far into the city. Just stick with the outskirts, you know? I think Tupelo would be our best bet for now. We can hole up somewhere and regroup.”

  Theo thoughtfully mulled Gray’s suggestion over. It wasn’t like they had many options, save for going deeper into the country or hitting some back roads area. Their situation would probably get worse if they did that. Gray’s suggestion about food and water and other supplies was actually spot-on.

  “Assuming we can get into Tupelo,” he finally said, “and assuming we don’t get killed in the process, we might be able to go into the city long enough for supplies. Then we could consider whether to stay or to head for someplace more rural.” He nodded and pushed away from the couch as he stood. “Good suggestion. Better than anything I might have come up with. Let’s go with it. It’s a start.”

  “Really?” Gray asked, visibly surprised. “I wasn’t…” He looked baffled. “Okay. We’ll go with that. If you think it’s wise.”

  “Hell, your point about the pharmacies alone is reason enough to go. I want to collect as many inhalers as I can get my hands on. We don’t know how long this is going to last, and if it’s an extended period of time, we’re going to need to seriously back stock a lot of them for you.” He edged to the large
picture window and lifted a corner of the plastic, squinting out into darkness. On the horizon, in the direction of the city, there was an ominous glow, and the faint scent of smoke hung on the air. He stood still, watching closely for movement. When he didn’t see any movement in their immediate vicinity, he stuck the plastic back down and stepped away. “I think we should leave soon. Very soon.”

  “When are you thinking?”

  “Maybe tomorrow? The day after?” Theo suggested. “I’m open to ideas.”

  “I have no complaints,” Gray said. He grabbed the Smith & Wesson and snapped the cylinder open, then began to load it, the look on his face the very picture of determination. “Let’s get our shit together, shall we? I think I’m ready to get out of here.”

  Chapter 19

  Two days later they approached the city of Tupelo. Gray slowed the Hyundai to a stop and pushed the gearshift into park. Theo sat up straighter beside him and let out a low groan of annoyance. “What the hell happened here?”

  “Probably the same thing that happened everywhere else,” Gray answered. He tapped his fingers along the steering wheel and studied the scene before them. “Total chaos.”

  The highway in front of them was completely blocked with cars, rows upon rows of them, as far as the eye could see. The ones at the front of the crowd were crumpled, crushed, smashed together at haphazard angles; clearly, their occupants had attempted to flee Tupelo a little faster than their vehicles could handle. The unfortunate result was that Theo and Gray couldn’t get past the wrecks to head deeper into the city as they’d planned.

  Theo leaned forward in his seat, trying to get a better look. “You see any place we can squeeze through?”

  “Not really,” Gray said. “I can’t see anything that wouldn’t put us at unnecessary risk. Should I turn around, try to find another way in?”

  “Might be a good idea,” Theo agreed. He lifted Gray’s bag from the floorboard and opened it, rooting around inside for the family Bible Gray had brought along. He rifled through the pages tucked inside, freeing one and studying it closely for a different route. “Maybe we can come up at the city more from the south?” he suggested.