A Gray Life: a novel

by Harvey, Red

  While we were putting the tools back in the shed, a thought occurred to me. “Michael, how’d you know how to use the welder?”

  It was a just question, when the fact hung in the air that Michael had been a psychology major.

  “I read about it.”

  His answer, and the serious look on his face as he said it cracked me up. Michael joined me. We had a good laugh about nothing, really. Laughing about nothing can feel better than laughing at an actual something.

  * * * *

  October 14th

  They thought I couldn’t hear them arguing this morning, but I could. Couples always assume they’re being discreet by arguing in low voices with the door closed. Not true, though. When people share a home together, everyone can sense when there are problems. I’m glad they weren’t arguing about…stuff that they’d fought about back in The Basement. They were arguing about a subject with equitable merit, though.

  “—Gotta go. Just have to.” Michael’s muffled voice came from the study.

  I was outside, puttering with the pool net in the semi-clear surface of the water. Cleaning out bugs and leaves had seemed like a good idea once I’d heard the click

  (dead bold sliding home. Never getting out.

  No, we’re safe now)

  of the study door followed by a heated back and forth between my two roommates. I had tip-toed form the living room to the backyard.

  Even in the backyard, I caught most of their words. “No…don’t have to….wait…animals might….back.”

  Michael’s harsh laugh. “…Kidding, right?...Never hear birds even….are our best chance.”

  Wait, what was our best chance? Should’ve put my ear to the door.

  “…Dangerous! You’ll never come back!”

  “…with Brian before….be okay.”

  I stepped into the kitchen to hear better.

  Michael’s voice was clearer. “Besides, the food in that pantry won’t last forever. Winter’s coming. We’re lucky that we don’t have to worry about snow in this state, but it’s still going to get cold. We should have a good stock-pile of food going by then. Sustainable food, starting with a garden of vegetables and a meat source we can depend on. Honey, you know I’m right about this.”

  “I never said you weren’t right. I said it’s dangerous. And what makes you think those things will make good food? We don’t even know what they are, where they come from!”

  “No, we don’t. But we were eating them just fine while we were in the basement. My hunting trips weren’t only about front-yard trophies for that whacko. They were also about feeding hungry people. We’re not hungry now anymore, but we will be soon if we don’t start preparing.

  A long silence. My foot fell asleep and I stalked quietly around the kitchen to relieve it.

  Then Louise said, “Okay. But you’re not taking him with you.”

  ‘Him’ meaning me.

  “I wasn’t going to. In a few years, he’ll need to learn.”

  “If we live that long.”

  “I’ll see to it that we do.” Michael promised.

  I hope he does as he says.

  * * * *

  October 15th

  The demons.

  Where did they come from?

  Maybe with all of the bad going on in the world, we, as a destructive species, invited them.

  From where though? Another planet, or our own imaginations? I’ve even thought that maybe they could be us, the worst of us, mutated.

  22

  Juniper and Christopher were able to remain at the hotel for an additional week. After that, the lack of power turned the entire hotel into an uninhabitable dark tomb. Rooms were not equipped to be hospitable without the support of air conditioning. It was impossible to open the large plate glass windows. The rooms became ovens, reaching ridiculous highs in temperature during the afternoon, and retaining that heat well into the night.

  Loss of electricity seemed to translate into loss of sanity for most of the hotel’s inhabitants. Through the walls, Juniper could hear wailing, incoherent tangents, and weeping. Everyone thought they were fucked, and maybe they were. Though it felt safe being on the 15th floor, it was an illusion. Juniper and Christopher couldn’t stay. There was no place to go, but they wanted to leave before vandals descended on the hotel. From their window, they had witnessed many atrocities. Being so high up had given them detachment from everything that had happened. The false sense of safety unnerved Juniper. Being detached or feeling safe was a mistake in the New World. Being moved to action and feeling scared were more esteemed qualities.

  Between the two of them, Juniper and Christopher had one bag’s worth of essentials. The vending machine down the hall from their room wasn’t yet empty. Christopher took a flashlight and knapsack with him into the hallway during the post-midnight hours. Within 30 minutes, he had liberated the remaining snacks into his knapsack. They also had extra clothes, matches, and a pocket knife. Juniper chose to show Christopher her gun. He was a liberal, an anti-gun liberal, and the presence of a gun frightened him. Juniper was also a liberal, but she was a realist too. The gun was a necessity. Two guns would have been best. 10 guns would have been better.

  Nine guns shy of a party, the couple ventured out into the stairwell. It had been 4 days since they had even left the 15th floor. The condition of the stairwell was startling. Glimpsing it in flashes from the blinking red emergency lights put an even scarier spin on the degradation. For the sake of conservation, the hotel’s generator ran only the plumbing, emergency lights in the stairwell, and a few empty rooms that had been commandeered by hotel employees.

  There wasn’t anything as clichéd as ‘the end is nigh’ written on the walls of the stairwell. However, there were writings, mostly other quotes from scripture or things like, “Have you seen Matheson? Five foot ten, brown hair, 28 years old...” Drawings had taken over the wall, too. They were cave-live in their crude quality. It had to have been the work of a single artist, a disturbed artist. Pictures of decapitations, mutilations, and bestiality covered an entire four foot span on one of the stairwell’s landings. Someone had written in large letters “There is no more ‘fore, only after”.

  “What the hell?” Christopher said after reading the sentence from the wall.

  “Still think we don’t need a gun?” Juniper asked.

  When they were out of the stairwell and on the ground floor, Juniper felt safer. In the stairwell, they could have encountered anyone. It was an enclosed space decorated by crazy people. She didn’t want to fully imagine the possible scenarios. Christopher was blaring feelings of anxiety, letting her know that his mind was on the same track.

  They passed by a few rooms on their way to the front door of the hotel. Some of the doors had been left open. The smells coming from them were not pleasant. Christopher shined the flashlight inside one of the rooms. Juniper wasn’t looking, but the blank shock coming off of Christopher told her that she didn’t need to look. His shock slowly hardened into resolve. Juniper could respect his feelings of resolve loads more than she could respect his fear. She already knew the world was dangerous. Being sober a few weeks, Christopher was catching up with everyone else from his naivety.

  Eventually, they made it to the lobby entrance. The front desk was devoid of personnel. A name badge sat on the marble desktop. As Juniper neared closer to the front, she could read the name, “Carrie”. Looks like Carrie quit, thought Juniper. Smart girl. Either that, or she had been forced to quit. Behind the counter, there were blood splatters. Juniper shined her flashlight to follow the trail and she saw deep grooves etched into the floor. What could have created those marks on ceramic tile?

  “Where are you going?”

  Christopher’s question came from the hallway. He made no move into the lobby.

  “We’re leaving, aren’t we?”

  “Not that way, we’re not. My car is still in the parking garage.”

  Juniper didn’t think venturing into a parking lot at night was
safe, but she knew the value of having a car. Anything was better than walking around the city with only one gun.

  “Alright.” She said.

  Investigating the blood and scratches would have to be forgotten.

  The hallway leading to the garage was dark. Christopher’s flashlight didn’t illuminate much. Juniper was forced to feel her way along the wall. Items littered the floor, what felt like boxes and papers. When she took her next step, her foot came down on a thing that had more substance. It was thick and squished under the weight of her.

  “Christopher!” she called.

  He was a few feet in front of her. He turned around to shine the light in her direction. In a sweeping arc of light, they both saw what Juniper had stepped on: a human arm. The limb began at the shoulder and ended at the manicured fingers. Along the length of it, gashes that were similar the ones in the lobby floor marked the arm.

  “What did this?” Christopher asked.

  “Those things from the tabloids? Maybe they’re real.” Juniper said.

  “That’s stupid. Monsters don’t exist.”

  “Right, and civilization will never fail?”

  Juniper couldn’t read his face in the dark, but she felt his doubt slipping away. He knew she was right.

  “Let’s just get to the car before we find out who’s right and who’s wrong.”

  They kept moving, with the implications of the severed arm in the forefronts of their thoughts. Hours passed (or maybe minutes) before they reached the parking garage door. Christopher took a deep breath, and then opened the door. Cold air blew in their faces. Both of them stepped inside the black space beyond the door. There was silence, and the abyss. A loud clanging echoed all around them. Juniper reached for her gun with all the finesse of a five-year-old. Her panic died when Christopher’s did.

  “It was the door. It’s okay.” His voice was a whisper, still louder than a waterfall in the large empty space.

  “How are we going to find your car?”

  Rustling, and then a ‘beep, beep’. Headlights lit up 30 feet in front of them. They saw the lot in its entirety for a few seconds. The parking space across from their car wasn’t empty. Something four feet long and furry unfurled itself when the car lights woke it up.

  “Juniper, shoot it!”

  The lights from the car faded. Christopher pressed the ‘unlock’ button on his keying and the lot was lit up again. Now the creature was 15 feet from them, growling. Yellow eyes came at them closer and closer…Once more, the light went out.

  “Shoot it!”

  Christopher’s terror was almost painful for Juniper. She had some terror of her own to deal with. The creature came closer, and she was no longer afraid.

  “Calm down, it’s just a dog.” Juniper said.

  Another click, and the headlights illuminated the golden retriever at the couple’s feet. Though filthy, it appeared friendly. Its primary emotion was ‘hungry!’. This dog was a loud broadcaster. Juniper took that as a good sign. Loud broadcasters were usually so because they had little to hide. Occasionally, it meant that they were full of themselves, but she doubted the dog was inclined to narcissism.

  “Hey, guy.” Juniper put her hand out for the dog to sniff.

  Cautiously, it sniffed her outstretched hand. The sniffing turned to licks. Instead of the pathetic yearn for food, the dog felt happy. It had been a few days since Juniper had felt such pure emotion, either from herself or from another person. She held onto the dog’s happiness for a few moments. She was unaware that she was standing with her eyes closed, hands stroking the matted hair on the dog’s head until Christopher touched her shoulder.

  “Juniper, don’t you hear that?”

  “Huh?” she murmured.

  “The growling? Took me a second to figure out that it wasn’t coming from the dog.” Christopher was whispering.

  Growling? Juniper opened her eyes. Happy thoughts had faded, and she could hear a guttural keening. It sounded like a car engine, if a car could sound angry. Underneath her hand, the dog stiffened. It began to whimper and draw closer to her legs. Juniper reached out with her mind to find the source of the noise, but she couldn’t feel anything. There was Christopher, the dog, and herself. Whatever else was in the underground lot with them was outside of her control. Christopher recognized the hum in the air that was dispelled whenever Juniper used her power.

  “Do you feel something?” he asked.

  “No, just us. And can you please dial down your fear a bit, please? Between you and the dog, I’m going to give in to a panic attack.”

  “Sorry.” Christopher did calm down, but not that much. “Let’s make a run for the car.”

  They were whispering in the dark.

  “On three, click the button, and then we’ll go.”

  “Okay.”

  “One, two,” Juniper grabbed the dog’s collar, “three!”

  When the car lights came on, she was sure she would see a monster waiting for them. However, there was not much to see. The parking spaces across the lot were empty, save the oil spots on the concrete. It took a while for Juniper’s brain to relay the message of ‘run’ to her legs. Both she and Christopher stood staring at the car. They didn’t move. Once the car lights faded, they woke up. Christopher clicked the button again, took his wife’s hand, and dragged her and the dog to the car.

  Beyond the car, Juniper saw a wink of green. She thought it was a flashlight. When the light blinked open and closed, she realized she was wrong. The green light was two eyes, as big as baseballs. The thing attached to the eyes had to be massive.

  When they got to the car, Christopher ran around to the driver’s side and threw open the door. He saw Juniper looking off into the dark.

  “Get in!” he yelled.

  Juniper took the dog and put it in the back seat. Then she got in the passenger seat. She could not believe that they had made it to the car alive.

  Keys in the ignition, Christopher started the car. He looked out of the driver’s side window.

  “We’re gonna be okay.” He said. “Where should we---?”

  The glass from this window exploded in his face. The car door buckled inward, pinning his arm. Juniper was screaming and the dog was howling. Something had hit the side of the car. While it had felt like a tank collision, logic reminded Juniper that it was merely the owner of the emerald eyes.

  Christopher fell eerily quiet. Juniper touched his arm.

  “June?” he turned towards her. “I can’t see.”

  Glass shards were sticking out from his skin; most were not large pieces. What concerned Juniper were the smaller bits that had shredded his eyes. Both of his irises were gone, pulverized grapes. She swallowed back bile and forced herself to speak.

  “Baby, there’s a thing out there, and it’s not human. It’s not even an animal, because I can’t feel it. Obviously, it wants to hurt us. Step on the gas, and I’ll steer.”

  “Alright.” Christopher whispered.

  Her husband had reason to be scared, but he wasn’t. Juniper felt a sense of purpose rising in him. There was also a protective vibe that gave him a blue glow.

  Christopher felt around for the gear stick. He pulled it back to ‘drive’ and stepped on the gas pedal. The car leapt forward with reckless speed. Juniper leaned over to grab hold of the wheel. She turned the car to the left to avoid hitting the concrete wall.

  Alongside the car, a dark figure followed. It kept pace with their car, travelling at 30 miles per hour. Juniper couldn’t see it in the dark. She caught a glimpse of shaggy hair, and those eyes. In the ‘fore world, she would have thought it to be a bear, but in this aftermath…it was no bear.

  As the creature ran with the car, it made wet huffing sighs. Juniper wanted to cover her eyes with her hands, but her hands were far too busy in helping to save their lives.

  The garage had a total of five levels. Their car cleared four of them. With all of the winding turns they had taken, the dog slid back and forth on the leather
seat. They were near the last ramp leading to the ground floor.

  “That thing is still following us, isn’t it?” Christopher yelled his question to be heard over the squeal of the tires.

  “Yes!”

  “Why hasn’t it come inside?”

  “I think it’s too big!”

  “Oh!”

  They arrived at the exit to the parking lot. A large stick hindered their way out, meant to be brought up electrically by a lot attendant. Only, there was no lot attendant.

  “Hit the gas!’ Juniper said.

  “We’re already going fast.” Christopher said.

  “We need to go faster if we want to get past the stick-gate-thing.”

  Christopher understood. Slowly, he increased their speed to 45 miles per hour, too fast for the predator. It followed a few feet behind the car as opposed to right next to it. When Juniper turned her attention back to the front, the car was inches from the stick-gate-thing. She had a premonition the gate would be unyielding. The car would crash into it and stall, with the front-end totaled. And it would be the end of them because the creature would find a way inside of the car.

  Juniper’s premonition was wrong. Fortunately, the gate was made out of plastic and not metal as she had assumed. The pole snapped in half from the impact with the car. One half of the stick rebounded off of the car, and the other half whipped back like a supple tree branch. A yelp, and Juniper risked another glance behind the car. The broken half of the pole impaled the monster through the neck. It hung from the pole, limp, back end in the air. Juniper tried to feel happy, but she feared there would be more like it. Not quite like that, though. Monsters all looked different, didn’t they?

  23

  October 18th

  It’s late and really time for me to find the land of zzz’s, but tonight was a doozy and I want to get it all down.

  Michael and I were out back. I was rewarding myself with a few laps in the newly cleaned pool (whoo, finally free of slime!) and Michael was piling up wood in the fire pit. It was almost dinner time. Michael was getting ready to roast the mean mother he’d caught earlier that day.