by Maira Dawn
The old woman slowly turned toward Skye.
“Mrs. McCleary? Do you see the food?” She took a couple more small steps to her.
The rise and fall of the woman’s chest became more pronounced. A long, gargled wail started. Low in pitch, at first, but rising until the screech bounced off the hills around them.
The flailing arm began to go up and down. Up and down. Up and down. The shriek continued to rise. Skye winced and covered her ears.
Skye stood frozen as Mrs. McCleary turned inch by torturous inch until she faced Skye. Her face red with fury, she took a deep breath and returned to her wail.
Skye hurried to set the supplies on the road. She calmly spoke to the woman as she did so. The screech continued. The arm chopped.
Skye shivered. The eerie sound coming from the woman seemed unreal. She moved backward toward the car sure there was plenty of time, but she wasn’t quick enough.
While the old woman had a bad arm, she still retained two good legs. Legs that had always been quicker than the average woman her age, and she used them now. Arm raised, wild, white hair flying, she barreled toward Skye.
Taken unawares, Skye watched the woman come, her breath caught in her throat. Mrs. McCleary took off at a run and made it halfway to Skye before Skye gathered her senses enough to move.
In a flash, Skye turned but slid on the pavement, going down on all fours. She huffed out a breath and ignored her scuffed hands as she heard what was behind her. Mrs. McCleary's snarled, angry breathing was loud and getting louder every second.
Ahead of Skye was the car and Jesse frantically screaming, "Skye! Skye!” Desperate, she scrabbled and righted herself. Her feet took hold just as she felt Mrs. McCleary’s gnarled fingers stroke her back.
A scream built up inside her when the woman’s hot breath fanned across her ear.
Jesse flung open the driver's door, still shouting at her over and over, “Skye! Skye! Mom!"
Skye dug deep and sprinted to the car, swinging around the open vehicle door. She came face to face with a frantic, furious Mrs. McCleary. Only the door was between them, and the window was down.
The sick woman's good arm reached out to Skye, grabbing at anything she could and capturing a fistful of shirt and hair. For one moment, Skye thought sorrow flooded her neighbor’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” Skye said as she brought the car door back as far as she was able then flung her weight against it, pushing the door toward Mrs. McCleary.
The door forced the old woman off Skye, taking part of Skye's shirt and a chunk of hair with her. Jesse reached across the seat and pulled at her arm. "Mom! Come on, Mom!"
Skye jumped into the Jeep and slammed the door shut with one motion. She flung the still running car into reverse and tore away from the wild, sick woman.
Hands shaking, she positioned the car in the right direction and screeched out of the town. When she looked in the rearview mirror, Mrs. McCleary was already on her feet and chasing the vehicle but they quickly pulled away
A few miles out of town, Skye stopped the car. Her body shook, and she needed to get it under control. She laid her head on the steering wheel.
Jesse patted her shoulder. “That's why you're supposed to stay in the car, Mom."
Skye raised her head and looked at him. She smiled, then broke into laughter, and he joined in. She reached out, gathering him to her.
His body trembled as badly as hers. He patted her back again and said, "It'll stop in a bit."
This child of trauma repeated the advice that Dylan gave her. How sad that this young boy knows that already.
She nodded her head then laid it on top of his. "So, mom, eh?"
"Yeah," he replied softly.
“Yeah.” In the midst all the wrong of this world, this felt right.
Chapter Twenty-One
The Road
Skye and Jesse drove for two hours without seeing another living human, Sick or no. Occasionally an empty vehicle sat askew on the country road, and Skye would need to veer around it to continue. At one point, they came across a car turned upright on its side. It seemed to teeter every so often as it sat there in the middle of the road.
Skye took a deep breath and held it as she wiggled her Jeep through the narrow space between the abandoned vehicle and the sharp mountain drop-off. When she made it through, she gasped for more air to tame her thumping heart.
The story of each scene was a mystery. Some were relatively easy to figure out, some a puzzle. Skye and Jesse didn't look too hard, afraid of what was in those wrecked cars. While there were no living people, they saw plenty of dead ones.
It was foreign and eerie. Skye and Jesse's face often paled, and their eyes widened at the sight. Sometimes the deceased were in a car pulled to the berm, sometimes they lay in the open alongside the road, once a man and a woman sat up against a tree holding hands.
In most cases, their blackened bodies showed signs of decay, some bloated, some beyond that. Other times, the birds had been at them. Tears spilled down Skye face when they passed a woman who still looked normal. She must have come down this road only hours before.
These were stories which no one would ever hear.
As Skye and Jesse drove on, the number of abandoned cars increased, and it was getting harder and harder to squeeze around them. Skye's hands tightened on the steering wheel, twisting against it. How much worse would this become?
Another fifteen minutes ticked by before they were forced to get out and push their first car out of the way. This kind of traffic was something she and Wade had not considered when planning their route. She realized too late they should have.
Skye looked in the rearview mirror, then all around them as they sat behind the stopped vehicle. Where were Dylan and Wade? Skye had thought they would’ve been here long before now.
Skye frowned at the blue automobile in front of them. If they wanted down this road, the car would need moved.
“Jesse, we will have to push this one.”
“Alright.” He drew out the word letting her know he didn’t think much of this plan.
“We don’t have a choice. They aren’t here yet.”
“I know.” Jesse popped his door open. “Let’s get it over with.”
Skye got out of the Jeep and put the blue car in neutral. She shoved the wheel the way she wanted the vehicle to go and stepped to the back beside Jesse.
A loud crack sounded in the woods, and their heads whipped to the noise. Skye and Jesse stared at the forest for a moment, but seeing nothing, they glanced at each other and let out nervous giggles.
Skye pushed against the car, straining to move it, and was proud to see Jesse’s effort made quite a difference to the task. The wind lifted her hair and whistled through the trees, and the long grass on the side of the highway stirred. Skye tried to ignore her wild imaginings, sure that someone would come rushing at them like Mrs. McCleary.
Skye gave a mighty push. The car dipped into the meridian, and they both rushed back to the Jeep. Once they slammed their doors shut, Skye locked them.
I never dreamed this many empty cars would litter the highway. Where did all the drivers go? They couldn't all have gotten delirious at the same time. Perhaps a traffic jam and they all walked home? Another story with no ending.
After fifteen minutes of straining arms and sweat rolling down their bodies, they had pushed through another small clump of cars. Skye was relieved that the way ahead looked clear.
Their route was taking them closer to the city. If the way thus far was any indication, abandoned vehicles would become a bigger problem. They could hardly stay in the Jeep, as she promised, when they needed to push cars to the side of the road.
In addition, the Sick were starting to make an appearance. Jesse pointed out two he saw looking through the trees at them. So far, the Sick seemed content peering at her and Jesse from the wood’s edge, but that wouldn't likely continue to be the case. The closer they got to civilization, the more Sick there were likely to
be.
Skye thought about changing course, but Wade had impressed on her the need to stay on the roads he sent them on, the ones he and Dylan would use to follow them. But when she and Jesse crawled into their car only to drive a few paltry miles before seeing a sea of empty vehicles in front of them, she gave up. Her shoulders slumped as she turned to Jesse. "We are just going to have to find a different route. We can't do this."
Eyeing the blocked lanes, Jesse agreed. "Maybe we should just go back."
Skye looked ahead before turning and looking behind them. "I have to try Jesse. This may be the last obstacle."
Jesse raised an eyebrow then sent her a doubtful expression.
Skye bit the inside of her lip. They had hours to go yet. The snarled traffic made them vulnerable to a lot of potential problems. Jesse had reason to be concerned. "If we have one more major problem, we will turn around. Okay?"
“Okay.”
Skye tipped her head to the right side of the road. “Look.” Off that side of the highway was an empty tree-lined street. “If we can move these three vehicles, we can get there.” Skye pointed to the three cars, then the narrow lane.
Jesse stopped chugging his bottle of water long enough to give her an enthusiastic nod and continued drinking.
“I have to lay this map out. You keep an eye out for the Sick, okay?”
They both hopped out of the car, looking around with a careful eye. Beside the Jeep was a sedan with a large truck in front of it. Skye walked to the sedan and spread the map out on its hood to plot her new route. She leaned over it, propping her chin on her elbows.
“Jesse, we will have to think about a way to let Wade and Dylan know we changed our course.”
“Yeah, I was thinkin—”
"Why, hello cutie! Look at you!" A voice called out from behind her.
Skye whipped around, her fingers curving around her knife at her waist, and her heart in overdrive.
Beside her, Jesse's water bottle made a cracking splat as it hit the pavement, and his hand moved to his blade.
She shot a glance at the boy. "Jesse, if things go bad. You get in the car and go back to the Coles."
“Nope, I ain’t doin that.” He was firm. There was no hesitation.
"Jesse! Don't argue with me, not now!" she whispered. This is how Dylan feels when I don't listen to him.
“Well, just tellin ya up front, I ain’t gonna do that.”
The man called out again. "Don't be worried now, beautiful. We can see you are in need of some assistance, and we are able provide that for you."
Skye didn't want to assume the worst of people but being careful meant staying alive. That was the case well before this outbreak.
"We?" she asked as her shaking hand tightened on her knife hilt.
"Me and my buddies here." He pointed to his right. A second man came out from behind a truck.
He said buddies. Where's the other one? She gulped as she quickly scanned the area but didn't see the third man. She pulsed with tension. We need to get back in the car.
Skye’s voice quaked as badly as her hands as she spoke. “We don’t need any help. We're fine. Thank you.” To Jesse, she whispered, “Back up and get in the car.”
She took one slow step back then a second. The two men in front of her matched her pace. The talkative one continually tried to reassure her.
"I know this must be kinda frightening for you, but we aren't bad guys, honey. Just trying to find survivors, is all." His voice was so smooth and reassuring that she actually might have believed him if his speech wasn't peppered with cuties, beautifuls, and honeys.
A third and a fourth step back. Skye was making headway, but the men's more substantial strides meant they gained on her. She threw a glance at Jesse and saw he was at his door. She gave him a nod to get in the car.
For her, there was no choice but to run the last few steps to the door. Skye’s vision swirled as she turned, her entire focus on the driver's door of the Jeep. The crunch of shoes on loose gravel sounded on her right.
Skye reached the car door and flung it open. As she stepped toward the seat, a large, meaty hand clamped on her shoulder like an iron vise. He shoved her up against the hard, metal door frame. Her face numbed for a moment when it smashed against the car. It was him, the third man.
She put her hands to the smooth metal of the vehicle and pushed, but he refused to let her up. With little effort, he pulled her knife from its sheath and tossed it to the ground. Skye’s heart dropped as it clattered on the pavement.
Skye continued to fight, clawing at his arm. The big man had a long reach was too far away for her to do anything else.
He took hold of the solid Jeep door and slammed it against her back and legs.
Pain flared up and down Skye's body. She screamed and frantically pushed at the car again. If only he would come closer, but he knew what he was doing. He waited a moment before opening the door and crashing it into her again.
This time, he held the door tight, chuckling in Skye’s ear as she shuddered and gasped in pain. She could smell his sour breath as it moved across her face.
Skye’s arms and legs rotated between numbness and agony, each cycle grew worse as the large man pushed himself against the door adding more and more of his weight to it. Sure that her back would break any minute, Skye tried to grit her teeth against the pain, but soon her gasps turned to sobs.
“Hey,” the first man said, “I told you not to do anything until I said so. Let her go!"
The big man released her body from the trap he'd made. Skye tumbled to the ground and lay there quivering.
Chapter Twenty-Two
The Note
Dylan made sure he got to the cabin well after Skye drove away. He didn't want to say goodbye and didn't figure she would care much anyway. He entered the clearing where the cottage stood sometime after noon. His shoulders slumped as he stopped and stared at the house. The only movement was Wade up on the roof, cleaning out the gutters—again.
I swear he spends more time on top of that house than on the ground.
Dylan walked with light steps into the cabin once Wade’s back turned away from him. Dylan shuffled through the entryway. The house felt different already. The area that normally held Skye and the boy's stuff was about cleaned out, leaving a large empty space.
His gaze lingered on each place he now thought of as hers, the seat on the couch she usually sat on, her neatly made bed, the counter she lay cookies on the night before. Their spicy scent still drifted in the air.
An ache passed through Dylan, and he sighed. It's better this way. I started gettin caught up in something that wasn't gonna happen. She won’t go for someone like me.
He could accept that. He'd been denying himself ever since he could remember, denying himself or being denied. Didn't matter. He was who he was. She was who she was. That’s all that could be said about it.
Dylan had been used to the quiet before they came. Craved it, enjoyed it. Quiet meant safety to him, a lesson he’d learned long ago. Too much noise often meant trouble.
But Dylan felt different about her and the boy. Their clamor was a good kind—laughter and smiles. He liked it. It was only a few days since they arrived, and he was used to it already. He would miss that.
She said she was coming back, and Dylan thought she really meant it. But it wasn't just a short jaunt to Ohio anymore, not with things the way they were now. Skye would get there and somehow make that place work.
A thousand things could happen. Her dad might not want to leave, her brother could show up, maybe she would find a relief center of some kind there.
No, she wouldn't be back. She risked their lives to go up there for her dad. She wasn't going to risk it again to come back here. Dylan dropped into a kitchen chair.
Wade came in the door wiping his hands on a rag. “There you are! Where’d you get to?”
Dylan shrugged.
“Well, you missed the excitement. The neighbors up the road went from bad to wo
rse. Joe sent someone over here for us, needing help getting ‘em down the mountain last night.”
“It go okay?”
“Yep. But that’s not the most important thing.” Wade smirked.
Dylan waved him away. “I don’t got time for your games.”
“Skye wants us to catch up to her when we can.”
“Last night she said—”
Wade pulled out the kitchen chair beside Dylan. “She said she didn’t expect us to, but when I got to askin her, she wanted us to go with her.”
Dylan gave Wade a blank stare.
"She left a note." Wade walked over to the end table to get the letter and handed it to Dylan.
Dylan wanted to be angry, but instead, he found himself eager to read what she'd written. He took his time opening the folded note. Her handwriting against the plain white paper was surprisingly messy. All the girls he knew growing up practiced their writing as if it were an art, adding lines, dots, and even little hearts until the words were almost unrecognizable. Her handwriting was as far from that as a person could get. It could almost be termed a scrawl. He liked that.
Dear Dylan and Wade,
This is not a goodbye note, it is a thank you note. I lay here tonight, my mind restless with what might happen tomorrow, and I realized I never thanked you for everything you've done.
Without you, I probably wouldn't have Jesse right now. I like to think I would, but odds are that things would not have ended as well as they did. I may not have ever left that house. For all I know, I may still be on the side of the road.
And then without a word or a question, you took us to your home and opened it up to us. You didn't need to do that; you'd already done so much. But you did. You've taught us skills that can help keep us alive. We have a long way to go, but you gave us the confidence we can learn them.
I am eternally grateful for everything. In the short time we have known each other, you've come to mean so much to me.
My note is turning into a letter so I will end it now. My plan is to drive to my dad's house, stay a day or two to help him pack, and Charlotte if she wishes to come, then drive back here. If you somehow don’t catch up and want to check on us, I listed my dad’s landline number below. If we run into difficulties, this may take longer, but I hope not.