by Riley Flynn
“I don’t feel much like talking.”
It was true. Even if Alex didn’t have to think about driving, he had plenty else to occupy his mind.
“I don’t believe we have spent so long in each other’s company without you accusing me of lying.”
Alex couldn’t help but smile. He knew Krol had seen it.
“Perhaps you should have lied less, then.”
The wheels turned, the car travelled down the road. They sat quietly, not speaking for minutes at a time.
“You know this route well, Alex.”
Alex could feel Krol’s eyes watching him.
“This isn’t my first rodeo.”
“I am sure it is not. Did you always drive this fast?”
“Every time,” Alex lied. “Don’t think you can handle it?”
“I would be worried about dying before we even had time to kill. You must have had an important reason to drive this fast so long ago.”
“I did.”
“A girl.”
“Was that a question?”
“That, I believe, was an answer, Alex.”
“You know, you say my name a lot when we talk. Yeah, it was a girl. I went to see her a lot. Until I didn’t anymore.”
“Repetition creates a sense of familiarity. A name is a personal thing. It bonds. Did she have a name?”
Alex adjusted his grip on the wheel. He didn’t really want to talk to Krol. But it passed the time. It stopped him thinking about what lay ahead. It stopped him thinking about Cam and Joan and the baby. What the hell?
“Sammy. Levine does it, too. The name thing.”
“Sammy. She was the girl, the reason you came back.”
“One of them.”
“Now, she is not?”
“She’s gone somewhere. I don’t know where. Should I start saying the name ‘Krol’ over and over? Is that what Levine would do?”
“So now she is a ghost. And you must learn to let her go. Chasing into her town must not help with that.” Krol’s mask was fitted and his breathing slow and mechanical. “You may use my name if you must. Levine surely would.”
“I think she’s happy. I hope.” Alex flicked a switch. The built-up snow was wiped from the window. “Why’ve you got that tank with you? If you’re worried about dying, you picked the wrong field trip.”
The oxygen tank sat between Krol’s knees. The tube, running along the inside of his coat, shuddered with each breath. The sound of a hand tapping against the metal casing filled the car. A hollow steel clap.
“This car belonged to a sick man.”
“Contamination? Come on, Krol, you’re not stupid. You must know what we’re heading in to? I bet most of the sick people are dead now, anyway. The chances of infection must be way down.”
“And yet,” Krol leaned back in his seat, “people continue to get sick. I have seen it. Perhaps the bodies, they are infectious. The contagion, it can hide anywhere. I hope, for your sake, Alex, that you are truly immune. If not, you are reckless beyond belief.”
“But how do people keep getting sick?”
“The virus can hide anywhere. On the dead. In their water. In rats or ticks. We do not know how it works. I do not know how it works.”
“You’re trying to find out?”
“Those bodies – those people buried in the barn – they were to form the foundation of our research. Their DNA might well be valuable.”
“But you’re not a scientist. What could you do with them?”
“Not us, Alex. Those in the future. Our duty was simply to survive. To hold on to hope. To lay the foundations for the recovery of the human race. One day.”
“You think you’ll survive to see a cure?” Alex laughed. “That’s wishful thinking.”
The old man breathed deep on his mask, holding it to his face.
“Alex, my friend. You are so wrong.”
“You think you’ll make it?” Alex chose not to argue over ‘friend’. But they could return to that later.
“A week before. Before the virus hit. Do you remember what you were doing? It feels like another lifetime, now.”
Alex knew what he’d been doing, even if he couldn’t remember exactly.
“Working in an office. Same old stuff. You?”
“I remember very clearly. I was sitting in a waiting room. My doctor was walking away, leaving me to fend for myself. The word ‘inoperable’ is, perhaps, the most devastating in the language, I came to realize.”
“What was it?”
“Cancer of the throat.”
“How long?”
“Eight months. They filled out my forms and sent me on my way, armed only with this and a handful of pills.”
Krol clapped his hand again against the oxygen tank.
“How many months ago was that, then?” Alex couldn’t do the math in his head.
“It doesn’t matter. The tar and the smoke have done their damage. Still, there is nothing quite like an apocalypse for helping a man go cold turkey.”
This time, Alex did laugh. He couldn’t help himself.
“So, what did you do?”
“I stumbled home. I stumbled around. Bar, to bar, to bar. I found myself, eventually, in a church. Levine’s church, I am sure you can guess. That is where I met him. He helped me, to some extent. He handed me a vision of another world. He took every cell in me which was dying and replaced it with pure belief. I should have seen then what a dangerous man he was.”
“You fell in with the Instruments of the Passion? Did you wear those gray robe things?”
“Back then, Levine was a small time TV preacher. People knew his face. He’d been in politics. I’d seen him myself, begging for donations every night during the commercial breaks.”
“They different back then?”
“When the virus hit, Levine’s methods became… unsound. But he finally had an audience. He told them what they wanted to hear. Exactly what he had told me, a week earlier: there is a reason for everything. God moves in mysterious ways.”
“Then you were with him right from the start?”
“I was there when he travelled to Athena for the first time. He said it had come to him in a vision. By that time, enough people had gathered around him and enough of the government had broken down, there was no one to stop him. He and his followers marched north from Greensboro along the freeway.”
“You went with them?”
“I was at the very front of the horde. The vanguard. There were hundreds of us. Thousands.”
“Why didn’t you get sick? Surely–”
“People were sick. Many people fell ill during the walk. Levine told us that they simply did not believe enough. At first, they were quarantined. Then they were put out of their misery. By the time we arrived in Athena, the congregation had thinned. Those that were left were the rabid believers. The apostles. The instruments of Levine’s passion, he called them. Scared, weak people with nowhere to turn. They would do anything for him.”
“You were one of them?”
“I found myself watching everything. I was already sick. But I couldn’t say that. I was sick in a different way. So were they. By the time we reached Athena, I already knew I had to leave. When they started the fires, I knew I had to take as many people with me as I could.”
“The fires?”
“The bonfires which they burn all day and all night. They heat the compound. They light it. The fires are the final destination for those who do not believe. For those who show any sign of sickness.”
“They burn people?”
“They burn anything. They burn whatever Levine tells them to burn.”
Alex was captivated. Krol talked slowly, heaving on his oxygen mask regularly. The wipers brushed aside another layer of snow. They were almost in Athena. The headlights lit up the road ahead.
“So how did you escape?”
“I talked to people. Those I trusted. Nelson. His sister. Jenna. Jamie. All of us who seemed terrified that anyone migh
t accuse us of not believing in Levine. There were others. They died during the escape. Things grew out of control. They escalated. Before we knew it, there were only five of us and the man in the farm–”
“Eames. His name was Eames.”
“–he was dead.”
“Why did you stay at the farm?”
“Jamie wanted to leave. She and Jenna, they tried to tell me that we had to go farther. To truly escape. But I told them we had a duty. We could not let Levine flourish.”
“Five of you against him?”
“We were not alone. There were others. People within Levine’s camp who thought as we did. We met with them. But it was not easy. Levine would send spies. People to infiltrate our camp. People who were sick, trying to infect us with his virus and his ideas.”
“And what about us?”
“You were different. You and your friends. For the first time, I did not see in a new arrival any kind of belief. Only hope. Only joy. We did not know what to do with you.”
“You locked us up?”
“We could not take the risk.”
“You didn’t tell us any of this earlier. We could have helped.”
“We never knew we could trust you. Not until the baby was taken. Not until we knew you were not with them.”
“You’re a scared man, Krol. Full of fear.”
“I don’t deny it. A little fear, perhaps, would have slowed you down just enough, Alex.”
“I was scared the whole damn time, Krol. Scared and angry aren’t exclusive.”
The old man sighed.
“You might be asking, Alex, why I have been so lenient with you. Why I have allowed you to act so rashly, without interfering.”
Alex hadn’t wondered that at all. If anything, he thought, Krol was overbearing. Domineering. A wretched influence on his life.
“No.” He settled for the simple answer.
“I’ve seen your kind of precociousness before, Alex. The kinds of energy you harness, the way others seem to dedicate themselves to you. I’ve seen it before and – back then – I handled it very badly.”
No, thought Alex, he’s going to compare me to Levine.
“You remind me of myself, Alex. Of how I was once upon a time and how I act these days. I see myself – a younger, more headstrong self – and I was worried that you would turn out as I have done.”
Alex kept driving. He’d seen himself in Krol plenty and he was loath to admit it. He didn’t want to compare himself in any way to the man he’d viewed, for so long, as his enemy. He kept quiet.
“I’ve seen it as well,” Krol continued, his voice raspier and wispier than usual, “in Levine. The three of us. We are so much the same. Three sides of the same coin.”
“Coins have two sides.” It wasn’t a clever thing to say. But Alex didn’t care. He just wanted to fill up the empty air, to move the conversation on, to prove Krol wrong in any possible way.
“Perhaps not. Perhaps I am wrong. Perhaps there is no salvation for any of us, Alex, and we are all doomed to make the same mistakes. The way I have treated you, it has infuriated the others. Jamie, for instance, could not stand the leniency I showed. She thought you weak and dangerous.”
She might be right, Alex told himself. I haven’t helped matters.
“But, I told her, it was your house. Your memories we were occupying. I tried to shield you from the worst of it, tried to hide our sins away, worried that you would turn out like Levine. I honestly hope that I have succeeded. But I want you to know that I tried.”
“I know.” It was all Alex could say and he said it slowly. Then, the silence reigned for a while.
They were arriving into Athena. Alex slowed the car down. When he’d arrived before, they had seen him coming. He turned off the headlights. They drove on in the dark.
“Whatever you are planning, Alex, it will not be easy.”
“I know.”
“I hope you can trust me. I hope you realize that we want – in this moment – the same things.”
“You want to get the kid back?”
“I want to stop Levine, at all costs.”
“That’s not the same, Krol.”
“Right now, I think it is.”
Alex shook his head. The car was crawling along. Even when he could see outside, the streets were covered in snow.
“Head toward the light,” said Krol, pointing into the distance.
Between two buildings was a soft orange glow. The fires, burning into the night.
Trust Krol? Even the words tasted horrible on Alex’s tongue. Even in spite of everything the man said – as much of it was true, anyway – he still found it difficult to put his faith in the old man.
He was dying. He was scared. He was aiming at the same targets, even if he didn’t have the same goals. Plenty had changed in the car ride.
Maybe I should hand him bullets for his gun? Alex pushed the thought from his mind. He’d made his decision.
Pointing the car toward the firelight, Alex pushed down on the pedal. It was time to get the baby back.
24
This was a new way into town. They didn’t drive past Sammy’s house. Alex saw a different side of Athena. Dark and vacant. The car rumbled on toward the fire.
Close to the center of town, they spotted the first sign of the wall. Wire fencing and garbage, fastened and twisted together. Too high to climb. It filled in the spaces between the buildings, whose doorways and windows had been filled with brick and mortar.
“Keep driving here, pull in at the end of the block.”
Alex listened to Krol. This time, at least.
They’d passed one of the bonfires. It was on the other side of the fence, the flames licking up above the barrier. The smoke chugged up into the clouds full of snow. Alex recognized the taste in the air now. He knew Krol wasn’t lying about Levine’s fuel.
No people walked through the streets. Alex had expected to see faces everywhere, watching him. But no one appeared. No one stopped them. They drove on, up to the end of the block. The car came to a halt.
“The main entrance is on the other side of this building.” Krol adjusted his mask as he spoke. “I will enter in the normal fashion. You will find another way in.”
“They’re just going to let you in?” Alex didn’t like this plan. He didn’t have a better one.
“I’ll tell Levine I want to talk. To confess. His arrogance will see me through. Levine would never refuse an audience. He would never miss a chance to show off to his followers.”
Alex looked through the window. Already, the snow was beginning to pile up.
“And what do I do?”
“You get in another way. While I distract them, you will find the baby and take it. I will deal with Levine.”
Before Alex could say anything, Krol exited the car. The oxygen tank clunked against the bodywork and the coat rustled and then the man vanished into the swirling snow.
Time to find another way in, thought Alex.
First, he turned around. The small arsenal still sat on the back seat. Too much to carry, Alex knew, but now he had his pick of the guns.
Krol had only taken the pistol. No bullets. Alex was starting to wonder whether he would regret that. Despite his loathing for the man, the car ride confessional had helped to rebuild some semblance of trust between the two. At the very least, Alex told himself, I know he hates Levine.
Alex took the Savage and a handgun. He turned the car around, pointing back the way he’d come. He arranged the shotgun on the passenger seat. Within easy reach if he had to make a hasty retreat. With his feet, Alex cleared away the snow from in front and behind his tires. He wasn’t planning on staying in Athena a second longer than he had to.
Pockets filled up with extra ammo, Alex started toward the compound.
He followed the fence, tracing it between the buildings. Even if Athena was a small town, the municipal offices near the center rose up at least three stories. At the very heart, Alex knew, was the church. T
he entire compound was arranged around it.
Looking down at the ground, Alex could see Krol’s footsteps. He’d passed this way. Then he’d turned. The falling snow was covering his tracks. The whole area looked like a snow globe that had been left to sit. All quiet.
Alex came to the corner and stopped. He pressed the rifle into his shoulder, leaned out, and looked.
There was the entrance. There was Krol. The man had arrived, limping and shuffling as he did, at the guardhouse. He was talking to them, Alex could see. But they were out of earshot. The guards were patting him down. But there was no time to stand and watch.
Backing away, Alex looked around him. Athena hadn’t changed much in decades but now, under a few inches of snow, he couldn’t recognize much of anything. Finding himself an alley to sneak through, he decided to get as close as possible to the fence.
Alex walked past all the buildings, along a whole block and then another, checking every window and door. Anytime a building was connected to the fence, anytime it backed onto the compound, the entrances had been sealed shut.
But he had to keep looking. Getting through the main entrance wasn’t possible. Getting over the fence wasn’t possible. Alex had to find a way in through the buildings. Luckily, he knew the town. As it seemed most of Athena had stayed the same – the skeletal infrastructure, at least – that meant heading for the tallest structures around.
On the fourth block, the cold starting creep through his jacket, Alex found his way to the school. It was a few stories tall, long enough to cover half a block, with sections of the building backing on to the fence. It might not have been inside the compound but, if he could get high enough, he might be overlooking Levine’s territory from high up.
Then he could jump.
Alex didn’t like the thought. But he was running out of options. He was running out of time.
He walked around the school. Just like all the others, it had been boarded up. Every door and every window, all sealed. There had to be a way in. They couldn’t have covered everything.
Then he saw it. A cellar door built into the sidewalk. Alex could see the steel plating at the foot of the wall. It was covered in snow that he brushed aside with his feet. There they were, a pair of doors, guarding the entrance to the school basement. The only problem was the padlock locking them together.