“Every breath we take is a risk,” Hank says. He smiles even wider now. “Every risk we take is a reminder that we are still alive.”
“Every wall you don’t put up is a path for a greyskin to take,” Gilbert says grimly, but Hank just shrugs and breaks the noodles into the pot of water.
A voice from somewhere unseen calls out for Hank. He jumps a little and laughs at his own reaction, then reaches at the back of his belt and pulls out a small radio. “I’m here,” Hank says.
“Our new friends are fueled up and ready to go,” Walter says from the other end. “Are you through with them?”
“I’m feeding them,” Hank says. “No reason they shouldn’t get a hot meal. They look like they haven’t eaten in a week!” Hank looks at us and winks. There is a long pause from the other end until finally, Walter decides to talk again.
“Just hurry so we can get them out,” he says.
Hank shakes his head and snickers when he clips the radio back to his belt. “These guys are so uptight. Here I am trying to bring back a little civilization to the world and they just want you out of here.”
“I suppose I can understand,” I say. “There are a lot of bad people out there. Raiders, you know.”
“Oh, I know all about that,” Hank says. “People get selfish. They get to a point where only their own survival matters. I don’t see it that way. I think it’s important that we all try to survive. That we all try to help others survive. For example, I would love to ask you three to stay with us indefinitely, but the others here wouldn’t have it. They would say that supplies are low enough as it is. I, however, look at it differently. I would say that three recruits like you would heighten our chances of finding more supplies. It would be a mutual benefit.”
“I wouldn’t stay here if it were the last group of people on earth,” Gilbert says under his breath.
Hank doesn’t miss a beat. “I just think this whole thing would be over a lot more quickly if people just banded together. Make super-towns with giant walls so no greyskin could ever get in. I tell you what, if someone had the resources and manpower, people would flock in droves to a place like that.”
“I would,” I say.
“So would I,” Hank says, winking again, a couple of dry noodles sticking out of his mouth.
He finally sets a plate full of spaghetti in front of each of us and decides to have a plate himself. We spend most of the meal listening to Hank tell stories. Mostly funny ones. Ethan laughs the hardest, and I try to, and Gilbert sits with a straight face, eating his food quickly. Hank takes bites like he has all the time in the world.
He is in the middle of a story when he stops talking and the smile fades from his face. I follow his eyes to the box above the door and it is blinking red.
According to Walter, the herd of greyskins walking through the middle of Foley is gigantic. Hank stands next to us as Walter and Barry look at us like we betrayed their trust.
“We didn’t see anything,” Ethan says.
“We didn’t lead greyskins here,” Gilbert adds. “Sensors don’t do much more than tell you when something is coming do they?” He looks at Hank when he says this.
“We’re just going to have to wait them out,” Barry says. “If we stay quiet, they won’t come into the school.”
“We have everyone on lockdown?” Walter asks.
Barry nods.
Walter lets out a sigh. “We aren’t blaming you three for bringing them. Just weird timing is all.”
“We hate it worse than you,” I say, but it sounded better in my mind before it came out.
Walter looks at me sideways and shakes his head. “Hank, you got a place for them to stay?”
“Of course!” he says a little too loudly. “I have plenty of stories to tell. Some good, some sad, all of them with a purpose.”
“I’d almost rather take my chances with the greyskins,” Gilbert says.
Barry looks at him with an eyebrow raised. “We don’t know you, pal. Don’t tempt us to make you try.”
We sit for hours, waiting for the herd to pass like a slow moving storm and I feel like a child that can’t go outside because of the rain. The morning turns into afternoon, and the afternoon, evening.
“Oh, these herds can last for days,” Hank tells us. “It’s madness. Every step has to be taken with care. We aren’t even allowed to flush the toilets for fear that one of those creatures will hear.”
Gilbert makes another snide comment about having a wall, but he is ignored. By sunset we know there will be no traveling for the night and Hank helps us set up cots in his apartment that used to be Room 204 - Biology. He explains to us that in the morning, a few of the guys will try to go out and make noises away from the school to lead the herd in a different direction. It is a dangerous job that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t.
Late into the night, despite my lack of sleep the night before, I’m wide awake, thinking about Lucas. Hank snores away at the other end of the room. Gilbert’s cot is near the door, and Ethan’s cot is only a few feet away from mine, which is next to the window. I try to look out into the streets. Occasionally, I will spot a greyskin lurking around in the moonlight and every time I do, I get a sick feeling in my stomach.
A tear slides down my nose and onto my pillow as I stare into the night. The moon is full and foreboding. I think not only of Lucas, but others that I have lost. My sister. My parents. Hattie.
Hattie…what would I have done without you?
I bury my face into my pillow so my cries will not be heard. I try to think of the future, but I feel like there is no future. All I can do is think about the past and those that brought me to where I am.
Chapter 8 - Waverly
Three Years Ago
I never found out why there was smoke in the distance, hovering over the city like some menacing cloud promising that an imminent storm would soon destroy us all. Perhaps it was an explosion? Maybe someone tried to set a building full of those grey people on fire? It didn’t matter. Hattie was driving us as far away from the city as possible. She tried calling her husband, Charles, but there was no answer. She stared straight ahead, her eyes wide as we moved forward, but I knew she was worried that something might have happened to her family.
I felt sick about my own family. My mom…my dad. I used Hattie’s phone to try and call my sister, but I got no answer. For a couple of minutes, we listened to the radio as she drove, but it was all the same. No one knew what was happening, and all the reports said that it seemed to be a virus that had affected people. Hattie switched it off and we rode in silence the rest of the way to her house.
I never knew that she lived almost forty-five minutes away, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. I had always just assumed that she had a house somewhere within Oakridge. It was small, but comfortable. A giant oak tree in the front yard shaded most of the property, and Charles’ truck was parked in the driveway. We looked in every direction to make sure none of those grey things were lurking around before we got out.
Hattie ran toward the front porch, but before she reached it, Charles and their son came out to meet her. Both of them held a rifle in their hands.
“Are you all right?” Charles asked her, hugging her tightly. “I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour.”
“So have I,” she said, “but I haven’t been able to get through.”
“Who’s this?” Charles asked as I walk toward the porch.
“This is Waverly,” Hattie said.
Charles nodded at me and then looked at Hattie.
She shook her head. “She doesn’t have any place to go,” she whispered, though I could still hear her.
Charles nodded again and smiled at me, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It seemed like pity as he motioned for me to come toward the porch. “You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need to.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Let’s get inside,” he said.
I looked at Hattie’s son and did my
best to smile at him, but my heart wasn’t in it. I had met him a couple of years before when he had been with his mom and she had to drop something off at our house. He was about my age, maybe a year older. He had a dimple in his left cheek when he smiled. The gun he carried seemed too big for him, but he held it like he knew how to use it.
“Have you seen one of those things in person?” he asked as we walked through the door.
“Yeah,” I said. “They are scary.” I didn’t want to talk about it, but I had to accept that this would be a non-stop conversation for a long time. This was the kind of thing that would be the top new story on every station for months. They would be debating over and over. Was this a terrorist attack? Was it a virus? Would there ever be a way to fix this problem? Someone would find a fix or a cure eventually, but it would be too late for my family.
Charles locked the door behind us and stood for a moment, looking at each of us in turn. “We don’t open the door for anyone,” he said. “We keep the blinds drawn and keep the noise minimal. Nobody should be interested in our place.” He took a deep breath and looked at me. “We will be safe here tonight.”
I swallow and look at the floor, avoiding his stare. I don’t want to be around anyone, but I have no choice. To be alone is to be in danger.
I nearly jump when I hear my name.
“Waverly,” Charles said. “In case Hattie hasn’t ever told you, I’m Charles.” He motioned to his son. “And this is Lucas.”
I didn’t want to watch the news but it seemed there was nothing else to do. Hattie sat on one couch next to Charles while I sat on another with Lucas, a cushion between us. The television screen glowed with images of these grey people and I found myself having to turn away more often than not. Hattie looked at me a few times, but I just pretended not to notice. She tried to ask Charles to turn it off but he shushed her and said important information might come up.
The world was becoming chaotic and they were calling it an outbreak of a new, unknown virus. The news anchors weren’t certain how to explain it, but they interviewed all kinds of scientists to try. One of the interviews was particularly interesting in which they spoke with a professor who lived in the epicenter of this outbreak.
“We have with us Professor Jeremiah Adams, from the University of Elkhorn on the phone with us,” one of the news anchors said. “First we want to ask, are you in a safe place?”
“Yes I am,” the professor said.
“Now, from what we understand, it has been determined that this sickness, this virus, originated around the university at one of your labs, is that correct?”
“I have several high-tech labs with a lot of people using them,” the professor explained.
“Is it not true that there was a shooting at one of your labs and that many infected rats escaped?”
“The shooting is still under investigation, and I don’t know enough about the rats to comment,” the professor said.
“Is it not true that the officers investigating your labs were killed as a result of the virus?”
“This has been a tragic situation,” the professor explained. “The sickness has caused the death of many people already and the problem is that it is spreading. I don’t know enough about the officers, and no one has contacted me directly about it. I am here and ready to help in any way that I can.”
“Can you confirm that it is a virus?”
“I cannot, but it would seem that it is,” Professor Adams said. “I have not been able to take a look at any of the rats or people that have contracted the sickness, but I have been able to make the same observations that you have. It seems that the sickness is not airborne, but passed by saliva or blood. Once someone or something has the sickness, they seemingly die and reanimate. That’s when they desire to eat living flesh and their skin turns grey. When these greyskins see someone or something living, they attack.”
“Greyskins,” the news anchor said. “Why do you call them greyskins?”
There is a slight pause before the professor answers. “It’s a crude term to describe what they look like."
“In your professional opinion, do you think we will find a cure for these sick people? The greyskins?”
“I fear that the greyskins are already dead,” the professor said. “But I think that one day soon we will be able to find a way to eradicate the problem. But for now, people need to gather supplies and rely on each other to stay alive. The most important thing is that you have a safe place to stay.”
I didn’t care about some scientist who was near the start of it all. The news people were just looking for some answers, someone to blame maybe. I knew there was no one to blame. Looking for answers felt meaningless. Hearing this Professor Abrams, or Adams…whichever he was…did nothing more than add to the endless questions people might have had.
I got up and walked into the kitchen to get some water. When I filled the glass and brought it to my mouth, I could see that my hands were shaking. I didn’t feel fear. I didn’t even feel loss—that would come later. I guess in that moment all I felt was shock. It was as if I didn’t believe any of it was actually happening. I couldn’t believe that I heard my father die over the phone. I couldn’t believe that I saw my own mother’s blood seeping through the crack of the door. I couldn’t believe that I had been chased by the…what did that scientist call them? Greyskins?
It was a name that fit. I had been calling them grey people, but greyskins seemed right. They were less than people. They were sick animals. To call those monsters people gave them too much credit.
“Are you all right?”
Lucas’ voice startled me and I turned quickly, spilling water on the floor at the same time. “Yeah,” I said, grabbing a rag from the counter to wipe up the mess. “I just…I don’t know.”
“The greyskins,” Lucas said, staring past me as though he were deep in thought. “I suppose the news stations like the name. That’s what they’re calling them now.”
“Have you seen them?” I asked Lucas.
He shook his head. “No. I don’t really want to though.” He pulled a chair out at the table. “Why don’t you have a seat? I’ll make you a sandwich.”
“I don’t think I’m very hungry,” I said as I sat.
“Dad seems to believe that this thing will last longer than people think,” he said, pulling down a jar of peanut butter from a cabinet.
“Why does he think that?” I asked.
“They say it’s spreading like a forest fire. It’s hard to contain something like that.” He pulled out the bread and started to spread the peanut butter thickly onto one of the slices. He then walked to the refrigerator and grabbed a jar of jelly and applied it to the other slice of bread. “Dad thinks we should be safe out here, though I’m not so sure. We’re so close to everything. If as many people out there are infected as they say, we aren’t safe.” He put the jelly back in the refrigerator then grabbed the milk and poured a glass. When he finally set the sandwich and milk in front of me, he sat at the table and looked deep into my eyes. “But I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re safe with me.”
I wanted to tell him that no one was safe no matter what, but instead I just took a bite of the sandwich. I remember it was strange not being able to taste it. It was as if my mind was so preoccupied with the events of the day that I didn’t even know I was eating.
“They crashed into my house,” I said. “Doors and windows won’t keep them out if they are determined to get in.” I could feel my eyes sting with water, but I just took another bite of the sandwich to distract myself.
“Are you scared?” he asked. At first I thought he was taunting me cruelly, but then I saw the sincerity in his face. His light-colored eyebrows crinkled and his blue eyes stared into me as though he were trying to read my thoughts.
“Yes,” I answered.
“Me too,” he said. “But there is nothing wrong with that.”
I took a bite of the sandwich, but it wasn’t enough of a distraction to stop t
he tears that began down my cheeks. One after the other, the water flowed like a fountain. I set the sandwich on the table in front of me and let my head fall into my hands. My body shook as I sobbed there in the kitchen, but it was only a second or two before I felt Lucas’ arms wrap around my shoulders.
“It’s okay to cry,” he said. “It’s okay.”
I didn’t know how long he held me. I couldn't remember much after that until I woke up on the living room couch with a pillow under my head and blankets tucked around me. It was night time and everyone seemed to be gone. I jerked upward and looked around the living room and that’s when I saw Lucas on the floor just a few feet away. He slept soundly on top of some blankets, his breath going in and out slowly. Hattie and Charles must have been asleep in their bedroom.
I was happy that the television wasn’t still on. I was tired of seeing the images of the greyskins eating people. I was weary of hearing about all the death. I wiped away the crusted tears around my eyes and sat up on the couch for a moment. My stomach rumbled and I realized that I was very hungry. The few bites of sandwich that I had eaten must not have been enough for me.
I got up and walked into the kitchen, being mindful not to turn on any of the lights for fear of being noticed. I saw that Lucas or someone must have wrapped my sandwich in plastic wrap and left it sitting neatly on the counter. I took it and sat at the table. As I unwrapped it, I noticed that some of the jelly had bled through the white of the bread. Something resembling the feeling of a grin formed at the corner of my mouth. That was my favorite way to eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When I was little, my sister and I would make them and add extra jelly. We would then wrap them up only to eat them hours later when the bread was completely soaked on one side. It was always best when it was so wet with jelly that we couldn’t even taste the bread.
The sandwich felt like sweet memories, but the memories only made me feel sick inside. I took another bite and started to get up to make another glass of milk when something made me freeze in my tracks. A shadow moved slowly behind the blinds of the window above the sink. I licked some jelly off my thumb as I tiptoed to the window and peeked through the blinds. It was all I could do to stifle a gasp.
The Starborn Ascension: Books 1, 2, and 3 (The Starborn Saga) Page 9