Storm Front

by Riley Flynn

  As Alex discovered, the gas tank was filled with oxygen. Unless Krol was dealing with people locked up in quarantine, he often went without. Instead, his rotten teeth peered through his thin lips, his face too stoic for expression.

  The decontamination process had consisted of warm water baths with a bleach-smelling soap. Alex had scrubbed and scrubbed, standing up in his old bathtub with a tepid bucket. Two months’ worth of grime had washed off him and disappeared down the drain. By the end, he felt almost human.

  Once they had finished, Nelson had taken them on a tour of the house. It was a shell of its former self. Alex could recognize rooms that had been plundered, emptied of everything he’d once owned.

  When he’d asked where his parents’ possessions had gone, Nelson shrugged. Some had been burned, some had been stored in the barn, some had never been there at all. More and more, Alex began to wonder what Eames had been doing while he had been in Detroit. He’d known the man had hated change, but he hadn’t expected Eames to let the house fall into disrepair.

  A spark of concern had sprung up, every piece of peeling paint only kindling the nascent fire. The mystery of Eames was another to add to the list.

  Nothing in the home had been truly valuable. Antique furniture and some jewelry his mom had worn on special occasions. Maybe it had been worth something before. But no one was paying top dollar for mahogany tables in the current market. Hell, what was the point in even owning dollars? Alex found himself thinking.

  But Alex still pined for certain things. Photographs and books. Souvenirs and mementos. Possessions which might remind him of the past. Now, little more than fuel for other peoples’ fires.

  The only one he had left was the ring, the one he’d entrusted to Joan back in the Park. She’d pressed it into his hand as soon as they had a moment alone together.

  Alex had returned the ring to his pocket. He had to keep some memories alive, at least for the time being. It still didn’t help to think about Sammy or his parents. Being in this house was overwhelming enough, without those old memories encroaching on his consciousness.

  So he searched the house top to bottom, looking into every corner, trying to find evidence of his old life, something to replace the ring. Searching for better memories, a balm for the tired and tortured mind.

  But he wasn’t allowed everywhere.

  The rules of the house were very clear and very strict.

  Access to the barn, for instance, was limited only to those with Krol’s permission. The huge chain and padlock stared down anyone trying to enter, while a guard was often posted on the door, watching the courtyard for any signs of life.

  Most of the time, this was Jamie. Alex had received a cold reception from the one-armed woman. She seemed immune to his charms. It was difficult to make friends with people after almost caving in their head with a stone.

  Still, she was one of the strictest enforcers of the rules.

  Don’t go near the barn. Don’t go near the outskirts of the farm. Don’t talk to strangers.

  Krol and his people were terrified of contamination. Alex and his friends might have been free from the stables, but they were hardly free to do as they pleased.

  On the first morning, they had met Jenna. A teenage girl, thin as the sharp edge of a sickle, who stared open mouthed at Joan and Timmy. Their gray eyes. The sign they had survived. The chances, the teenager had told them, were one in a million. One in a billion, she exaggerated, throwing her arms wide with disbelief.

  For two of them to survive together, it was almost impossible. Even after Alex showed Krol the computer filled with names of those who were supposedly immune, no one seemed to care. The man just grunted and dragged a long, rattling gulp of oxygen through his mask.

  If the strangers stared at Joan and Timmy, they seemed to ignore Alex. Rumors that he’d spat in Krol’s face had spread quickly. They seemed scared of him. Worried about what he might do next. They kept their conversation short, sharp, and at a safe distance.

  Alex had a reputation. Short tempered and at the end of his tether. Not the man he’d been for most of his life, but it seemed hard to alter everyone’s opinions.

  It didn’t help that he spent so much time visiting Cam. Taking him any books he could find, bringing the quarantined patient his breakfast, Alex entered the stables without a mask. He knew his friend was free from disease, even if no one else believed it.

  To fill the time, to make sure they were both getting their exercise, they sparred with one another. Alex learned how to better throw a punch, how to duck and weave, how to read an opponent’s moves. A lot of the techniques came naturally, a result of the previous few months’ trial by fire. But Cam was a good teacher, especially when working with a willing student.

  Afterwards, Cam sat and listened as Alex told him all about the rules, the strangers, the empty house, and – most of all – he listened to the complaints about Krol. They laughed together, joking about the paranoid people who were occupying the farm. But there seemed no date for when the quarantine would end.

  As much as Alex found himself chafing up against the rules, he found himself working hard.

  The farm was home to a selection of old cars. They accumulated there after being abandoned. Alex didn’t know where they all came from, but he recognized the Chevy he’d arrived in. Every now and then, Nelson or one of the others would drive out across the fields, cut down a tree and drag it back to the farm.

  Once there, people would chop the wood into smaller, more manageable pieces. When it was his turn, Alex heaved the axe, feeling the sweat sticking to his forehead. He lost count of how many trees he’d cut to shreds. Hours every day, chopping, chopping, chopping. All of it went in the wood shelter to dry out.

  The oldest wood was burned first. Not just for heat – though the winters were cold in Virginia – but for boiling water. None of the plumbing worked properly these days, so rainwater and dew were collected in a series of giant plastic barrels and then heated up to chase away the germs.

  Nelson and his sister were in charge of the water collection system. They’d set up pipes, tubes, flumes, and aqueducts. Any water that fell on any of the buildings flowed through their gutters and was stored for later use.

  But Alex wasn’t allowed near the water. They didn’t trust that he wasn’t infected. He might do something stupid.

  Most of the time, Alex was given the same duties as everyone else: clear the fields.

  The fields might have been empty of crops, but they were not clear. They were littered with junk of all sorts, from candy wrappers to broken machinery. From fallen trees to animal carcasses. From scrubs and weeds and unwanted plants to everything else strange, foreign, and forgotten. It all had to be removed in time for the planting season.

  The upside to this was that Alex was reunited with Finn.

  The dog had been led away when they had arrived at the farm. He’d been muzzled and locked away in a shed. Rather than scratch and howl, Finn seemed to have laid down and slept through all of the commotion outside.

  When Alex had come to collect him in the evening, Finn acted as though nothing had happened.

  Still, the dog made friends on the farm easier than Alex.

  “Traitor,” he sneered at the dog while ruffling Finn’s soft ears with a cold hand. “At least they like you.”

  As the wind whipped around Alex’s freshly shaved face, he watched Finn sniff at the furrows in the field, trotting along a plough line and filling his nose with dirt.

  Alex shook his head and turned back toward the two-foot-high sapling he was supposed to be uprooting. This was life now. He had chores.

  But, in the short term, easy to reach objectives were nice. Set out at the start of the day to achieve something and, even if there were usurpers on the farm and a terrible man calling the shots, it was easier to sleep at night. Timmy and Joan pleaded with Alex, telling him not to act too rashly. He’d listened to them, for now. But his mind was in motion, considering his long-term options.<
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  But in the short-term, he had to tear this sapling out of the ground. His ground.

  He didn’t know his trees. He didn’t know the species or the name. He just knew that a seed had somehow drifted across over the field and had burst into life in exactly the wrong place. Now, it was Alex’s job to heave it out of the ground.

  From his position, he could still see the barn. The rules meant he wasn’t allowed too far away from the edge of the field. Going too near the road or the perimeter might mean being thrown back into quarantine.

  Ask much as Cam seemed to be enjoying his extended holiday, Alex had no intention of going back inside the stables.

  Get the farm ready. Those were his orders. For now, he was happy to stick to them.

  He wrapped both hands around the soft bark near the base of the sapling and began to tug. The roots had a firm grip on the ground. They didn’t shift.

  Alex tugged harder, not wanting to be beaten by a plant. Chopping wood was easier than this.

  Pulling as hard as he could, Alex could feel the muscles in his back straining. The tree wouldn’t give.

  He looked back to the barn. There was probably a saw in there. Something he could use for this. Years ago, the farm had been full of all sorts of heavy tools.

  But he wasn’t allowed inside the barn. Rules were rules.

  He heaved again, feeling the pain in his back and his shoulders.

  Nothing moved.

  Finn barked.

  “Yeah, boy. Shut up. You couldn’t move it either.”

  The dog barked again.

  “Quiet, or I’ll throw you back in the shed.”

  Alex heard the scampering of feet, scratching at mud as the dog ran away.

  “Hey, Finn!”

  He was already running as he shouted, chasing the dog out across the fields away from the farm.

  “Finn! Stop! Heel! Finn!”

  The dog didn’t stop. He ran fast, his feet barely touching the muddy ground. He was sprinting for the edge of the field, right to the point where the property met the road.

  Alex wasn’t allowed there.

  He didn’t slow down. He chased after Finn as fast as he could, cursing the dog with every spare thought, rules pushed to the back of his mind.

  Finn slowed as he reached the perimeter. Prickly bushes and spindly naked plants lined the edge of the field, marking the edge of the property. The public road was a few feet higher than the field, raised up to keep it flat and level over the bumpy plain.

  The dog found himself face to face with the thick tangle of evergreen plants which blocked his route up to the road. Poking round with his nose, he couldn’t find a way through.

  Still running, Alex reached him. He tackled the dog, not giving Finn the chance to dodge.

  They tumbled together and rolled, the dog already wagging his tail. They came to a stop beneath one of the bushes, Alex half on top, pressing Finn into the ground.

  “Now stop there. Why don’t you stop when I tell you?”

  Finn licked his face.

  Alex tried to wipe away the spittle with a free hand.

  He froze.

  He could hear something.

  Voices.

  Holding on tight to the dog, Alex edged closer under the hedge. Try to stay out of sight. The voices were mangled, not meant to be heard from far away.

  But as they drew closer, he began to pick up words.

  “I can’t … they … doing … Can you?”

  “No … far away.”

  “We … told not … enter. Just watch.”

  “We … watch. It’s such a beautiful …. Perfect for … and walking.”

  They were moving closer and closer to Alex around a bend in the road, coming so close he could almost hear every word.

  “We’re very lucky.” A prim and proper voice, each syllable unaccented and carefully announced.

  “Do you see anything to report?” Almost the same voice, but slightly higher.

  A man and a woman, talking in tandem.

  “Nothing of note. I can’t imagine Pastor Daniel will appreciate such little information. It is important to keep him informed.”

  “Do you have the glasses?”

  “Here.”

  There was a fumbling sound as the man fetched something and handed it over. Their voices were relaxed and easy going, as though they were out for a Sunday stroll.

  “I can see more people. Unfamiliar faces. I can’t see what they’re doing. Gee, it’s just such a nice day. You can see so far.”

  “It’s a blessing. How many new faces?”

  “I can see one, at least. But they never arrive alone.”

  “The Lord works in mysterious ways.”

  “We may be able to see better from the west side.”

  “We can take the slow route back to Athena, we’ll see on the way.”

  As soon as the word Athena floated down to Alex’s ears, he felt his skin prickle. A name he hadn’t heard in years. A name which had lived only in his thoughts. Hearing it spoken out loud was enough to send a shiver skittering down his spine.

  “Good idea.”

  “Wouldn’t want to waste such a beautiful day.”

  “A true gift.”

  And then the footsteps began to fade away.

  Alex loosened his grip on Finn. The dog whined and rolled over, looking to be petted.

  “Some tough dog you are,” Alex said, scratching the dog’s belly.

  But his mind was elsewhere.

  He hadn’t been able to see the people talking. He didn’t want to get too close. Krol and his people had filled his head with talk of contamination and disease. And if they knew he was out here near the edge of the farm, they’d lock him up in an instant.

  Alex couldn’t shake the words from his mind, though. They were watching. Taking notes.

  They’d even mentioned Athena. The town nearby. The town where Sammy had lived.

  It was all too weird.

  Alex needed answers.

  But who could he ask? His brain was already working, wondering how to broach the question. None of his friends would know. All of Krol’s people would keep asking awkward questions. Why was he out near the perimeter? Why was he disobeying the rules?

  These weren’t the questions Alex cared about.

  Picking up the dog, he began to walk back to the farm. He forgot about the sapling, leaving it to grow out in the field. His mind was racing away, too busy to deal with minor chores.

  Who could he find to deal with his questions? Could he even ask anyone at all?

  The dilemma grew with every step.

  As Alex approached the farmhouse, he knew only one thing. He needed answers. If that meant taking the risk of breaking the rules, he would have to do it.

  Nearly at the courtyard, he could see the barn and Jamie standing in front of it. She didn’t like him. She was happy to make that clear. Any time Alex moved, she was suspicious. If anyone was going to make his life hell, it was her.

  Finn, the traitor, ran towards her, his tail swaying from side to side. The one-armed woman was cold and distant to most but not the dog. She always smiled at him. Even the worst of people, Alex thought, couldn’t help but smile at a pet. It humanized her in his mind. Even if she hated him, he’d seen that side of her. A candle lit in the cloying darkness.

  Right now, Jamie was hooked over a notepad, writing away. She looked up and spared a half smile for Finn.

  “Jamie,” Alex called out. “I’ve got a few questions to ask you.”

  8

  Jamie was writing in a notepad and she ignored Alex as he shouted.

  Her pen scratched across the page, leaving behind letters like bird’s feet. The pad balanced on her knee, leaning up against the barn door, Alex could see her ignoring him.

  “Jamie. I’m talking to you.”

  Closer and closer, almost right next to her, she finally looked up.

  “Oh.” She looked through him. “Alex, isn’t it?”

  “Y
eah. You might remember when I nearly beat your head in with a rock.”

  “I remember.” Her voice was cold.

  “Actually, it was right here, in front of the barn–”

  “I remember. What do you want?”

  Alex knew this would be difficult. He had to try anyway.

  “Nothing much. Just had a few questions.”

  She turned her face back to her notepad.

  “Nelson is a better tour guide. Go and ask him.”

  Alex sat down on the ground next to Jamie, resting his back up against the barn door. Even sitting, it was clear how much taller she was than him. Even with one arm, her shoulders were wider.

  “Actually, I wanted to ask you about something Nelson was telling me.” Alex wasn’t used to lying. He hoped she didn’t watch his face. “He was telling me about some people he saw this morning.”

  “People?”

  “Yeah, just a couple of people, they were–”

  “Where were they?”

  “If you’ll listen, I was just about to–”

  “Where did he see them?”

  She stopped writing.

  “Out on the road. He mentioned a couple of things, was wondering whether you could clear them up.”

  “They shouldn’t have been out there, not at this time.” Jamie began leafing back through the previous pages of her notepad.

  “They were watching us?”

  “They’re always watching us.” Jamie wasn’t paying attention as she spoke.

  “They?”

  “Church people. They weren’t supposed to be there today.”

  All the usual bile and disgust Jamie saved for her interactions with Alex seemed to have evaporated. Instead, she was reading through the pages, whispering to herself and making notes in margins.

  “This church is in Athena? I heard them mentioning the town.”

  Alex realized his mistake. Nelson. He had heard Nelson mentioning the town, he hadn’t heard it himself. Caught in a lie, he could kick himself. But Jamie hadn’t noticed. He had to press the advantage before she lingered on it.

  “There is no Athena anymore.” Her pen moved quicker than ever before. “Don’t you know anything?”

  Alex let the insult slide. She hadn’t noticed. No need to draw her attention to it.