“Hello,” Terry said when the man didn’t speak. “Just passing through.”
“You look like bad news,” the man said, his grip tight on his shotgun. He had a hard, practical face, a voice to match, and a Yosemite Sam mustache. He didn’t seem hostile, only cautious.
“We didn’t start it,” Ursalina said. She sounded a little too combative, although Terry was glad she had left her rifle at her seat.
“Whatcha looking for?” the man said.
“The coast,” Kendra said. “Southern California. Maybe an island called Devil’s Wake.”
Ursalina shot Kendra a look: Dream on. The guy’s right eyebrow raised like a fuzzy caterpillar. “Long way, little lady.”
“We’ll try Domino Falls first,” Terry said. “Threadville. We’ve heard the broadcasts.”
The guy nodded his head. “Yeah, I’ve heard ’em. Heard rumors too.”
“What kind of rumors?” Terry said. The others gathered in the doorway and front windows to hear better. “We’d appreciate knowing anything that’ll help.”
“I’ll bet you would,” he said with a small smile. “That’ll cost you. Pull over.”
Yosemite Sam stepped away and waved toward a narrow turnabout near the signs. Terry saw tire tracks from other vehicles that had been turned away. With a sinking feeling, he rolled the Beauty to the shoulder to idle. Three more men and one woman had emerged from the woods, just as he’d expected. The bus was surrounded.
“If they’re pirates, haul ass,” Piranha murmured.
“We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t stall,” Terry said. They couldn’t afford any illusions about a quick getaway in the Blue Beauty. Their first checkpoint was likely to be very good or very bad.
The man with the shotgun didn’t step inside the bus, but he stayed close to the door. He scratched the back of his neck with what looked like weather-hardened fingers. “We’re regular folks here. Some say there’s government back east, but Texas broke away, and there’s folks in the Idaho territory say different. Not really sure about any of it. But we’ll take care of our own until the victory parade.” He had a slightly wild dance in his eyes. “Our only business with strangers is trade. One of the things we trade is information. Where you folks from?”
He’d probably already checked out their Washington plates, but he was looking at them as if he had no idea.
“Seattle,” Terry said.
Yosemite Sam nodded. “Well, welcome to California. Here’s the way it’s gonna be. I have a couple of pieces of information might do you some good. You got supplies?”
Terry nodded. “Yeah. For trade.”
“Whatcha got?”
“MREs,” he said. They had far more than MREs, but why volunteer that?
“What kind?”
Terry rattled off the menu, and he could almost see Sam’s mouth water as he nodded enthusiastically. “I’ll take a case of each, you got it,” the man said. “Then you’ll get through here and go on your way with good intel. That’s the trade.”
Terry glanced back at the others. Piranha wasn’t hiding his incredulous scowl, and the Twins didn’t look much more convinced, arms folded. There was a thin line between trade and blackmail, apparently.
“So what’s the intel?” Ursalina said.
“You first,” Yosemite said. His voice was friendly enough, but backed with steel.
Terry didn’t like the situation or the guns tilted in their direction, but any intel was better than none, assuming it was true. He might do the same in their position. Behind him, the others murmured complaints.
“We just got ambushed yesterday,” Terry said. “Guns make us nervous.”
“Comin’ across the Siskiyous? Damn, you’re lucky. It was the Yreka boys. Any of you get killed up?”
“No. But two of them did. Maybe more.” Terry wondered if he should feel guilt or pride. He only felt pain from his cuts and shaky fingers longing for a trigger.
Terry looked for signs that the gatekeeper had any loyalties or loved ones lying dead back in the Siskiyous. Hell, the Yreka boys might be feeding their whole town. But the man’s grin looked genuine, and he hadn’t so much as blinked.
“Damn raiders got what they deserved,” one of the other men called.
The guy’s eyes crinkled as if their bus had landed smack atop the Wicked Witch of the East, although he didn’t bother with a song and dance. “We take care of our own. Didn’t have to go as crazy as some folks—our roads were small enough to string with razor wire. I understand how you feel. How about I come up there into the cab with you, sort of hostage while we sort out the trade?”
Terry squinted. “What do I call you?”
“Reverend Meeks will do fine,” he said. And held his hand out. “Round here, a shake’s better than paper.”
Reverend Meeks. Reverend Wales. Was everyone a reverend now?
“Sometimes all we’ve got is our word,” Terry said, and shook hard. Reverend Meeks might have been a preacher and might not, but that grip didn’t come from flipping through Bibles. Judging from the strength, the tan, and the calluses, Meeks had done plenty of hard outdoor work. Suddenly, and irrationally, he almost wanted to beg to stay and be a part of this man’s flock.
But it wasn’t going to happen. If they had a chance, Meeks would have said so.
“All right,” Terry said after one more glance at the others. “Let’s get the stuff.”
While Reverend Meeks helped himself to the seat opposite Kendra with a polite nod of his head, Piranha and the Twins climbed out to open the bus’s bay door. Even without a Council, they knew it was a good idea to keep the girls inside the Beauty. Sonia looked like she was holding her breath.
Here it is, Terry thought. If this is a shakedown, here’s where we find out.
Of course, maybe they would all just be shot dead.
Terry kept glancing at Kendra, measuring her reactions, so she kept her face calm to let him know she wasn’t nervous. Not too nervous, anyway. Meeks smelled like he hadn’t bathed in two or three days, maybe more, but his face and teeth were clean… and nothing in his eyes reminded her of the pirate who had leered through the bus door at the mountain pass.
Ursalina sat next to Kendra, directly across from Meeks. She didn’t say anything, but she didn’t have to. Ursalina could look plenty menacing without a gun.
Whining, Hipshot approached Meeks and licked his hand. Meeks scratched his muzzle. So far, they were all still friends.
“Crazy world, ain’t it?” Reverend Meeks said, glancing each of them over before turning back to Terry. If he saw the gun in Sonia’s lap, he never said so. “Take it none of you kids had the flu shot, took that mushroom?”
Kendra’s heart raced. She wasn’t fooled by the casual tone of his query. She wished her parents had listened to her warnings about that damn flu shot.
“Is that what they’re still saying?” Kendra said. She tried to sound casual too. “Freaks came from the mushroom and the flu shot?”
“That’s what I hear,” Reverend Meeks said. “Seems that every one of the early cases, somebody’s done both. After that… maybe you’re a freak, maybe you get bit. Either way, you’re pretty much screwed.”
“We’re all clean, if that’s your question,” Ursalina said.
“They got plenty to trade!” a man called outside.
Meeks didn’t only look pleased; he looked relieved. Kendra suddenly realized that his thin, fit build might be due more to starvation than careful eating.
“What’s your situation?” Terry asked Meeks suddenly. He even glanced at her in his mirror again, and she felt a surge of electricity to realize how much they thought alike.
Reverend Meeks sighed. “Winter’s coming. There’s a little trade, but we don’t get much traffic. We’ve got no idea how bad things are going to be.”
No homes were visible from this road. Depending on how many supplies they’d had in the beginning, they were probably hunting for their food.
“How many of yo
u are here?” Kendra said.
“Enough,” Reverend Meeks said.
Terry turned to call out of his window. “Piranha!” he called out. “Can you guys double down? Two boxes of each.”
Kendra felt Ursalina bristle, but she kept quiet.
Piranha poked his face around the corner. “Why?”
“Courtesy,” Terry said.
Piranha’s sour expression lingered a moment before he smiled. “Gettin’ soft, T,” he said. Out of Meeks’s view, Terry gave Piranha the finger.
“We’re grateful,” Meeks said, “but we still can’t let you stay.”
“Wasn’t asking to,” Terry said.
Kendra almost asked if they could just rest for a couple of nights, but she didn’t want to force Meeks to be impolite.
Meeks studied Kendra’s face, eyes gleaming. “Hell of a world,” he said.
“What part?” Sonia said with gentle sarcasm.
Meeks sighed. “Well, here’s my end. Up a ways on this road, about ten miles, you’ll get stopped again. Tell those men ‘wildfire,’ and you’ll get right through.”
“Wildfire,” they all repeated. Like a magical incantation. Although a sappy 1970s song by that name used to make her mother cry, Kendra reached for her notebook, scribbling it down. She would write down everything he said.
The men and woman outside were carrying away stacks of boxes, smiling and laughing. Maybe Reverend Meeks had once had a thriving congregation and was now reduced to a couple dozen families. The food in those boxes would feed that many… for a day or so. A hard way to live.
“You’re going to get going now,” Meeks said, with a touch of genuine regret. “Few weeks, maybe months, things will change around here. You’ll see. But we have to do things this way, protect what we have, understand? Maybe down the road we’ll—”
“That’s it?” Ursalina said. “We give you all that chow, and we get one word? No way. That’s not enough.”
“What’s waiting up the road?” Terry said, more gently.
“Call it fragile order,” Meeks said. “People who are good, but scared. Like everyone. Without a password, they’ll turn you back. Might not be polite about it. You might’ve already figured out you don’t want to be near the Five.”
True enough. “Then one word is plenty,” Kendra said.
Reverend Meeks took off his hat, shook his hair, slapped it back on. “Dammit, sweetheart, you’re too reasonable. Make me feel like I’m not a good shepherd.”
Her parents had taken her to church twice a month, and Kendra hoped God was still watching out for her now that the churches were gone.
Piranha grinned. “These days, Rev, if you don’t take care of your own flock first, you’d end up hip deep in sheep shit.”
Kendra goggled at him, but Meeks laughed. “I like you kids,” Meeks said. He hitched his chin toward Ursalina. “And this young lady is right. So I’ll tell you more than maybe I should…”
Piranha, Dean, and Darius had come back from the storage bin, listening from the bus doorway. Reverend Meeks hushed his voice, as if to keep his own people from hearing. “Nobody’s gonna give you sanctuary between here and the Bay. That’s a fact. Threadville’s taking folks in, and they’re about the only ones I’d count on. That’s the good news.”
Terry grinned. “Great.”
But Kendra was waiting for the bad news.
“On the other hand,” Meeks went on, “Wales is a crazy SOB. Make no mistake. Those Threadies are a nutty lot, and never tell yourselves otherwise. If anybody ever says it’s time to toast with Kool-Aid, I’d decline if I were you.”
“So it’s a cult?” Kendra said.
“If it ain’t, I don’t know what is,” Meeks said. “Wales calls himself a reverend, but we don’t belong to the same church, if you know what I mean. That said… crazy as he is, he’s keeping his people safe. It’s a bona fide town, and it’s growing fast. People trade, mosey on through. Some stay, if they pass the sniff test. As long as they can work.”
“Once people go there, are they allowed to leave?” Ursalina said.
Meeks frowned and shrugged. “Listen, me and Wales ain’t Facebook friends, so I can’t say for sure. Not all of the whisper stream is good, but the complaints I’ve heard are from folks who were put out. Say they were falsely accused of stealing or drunkenness, or some such. Threadville knows it has a right to be picky.”
And how do they choose who stays? Kendra wondered.
Wales went on: “My guess is, they’ve got maybe a thousand there, and they’re still standing when a whole mess of other would-be towns have fallen. Seems like you get a certain size, things fall apart. But if you were my flock?” His eyes rested on Kendra with almost a wince, probably because she looked youngest. “If you had anywhere else to go, I’d say head there instead. Anyone else knows you?”
Devil’s Wake was on the tip of Kendra’s tongue, but Terry beat her.
“I have a sister in Los Angeles,” Terry said.
Meeks shook his head, emphatic. “Don’t even think about it. L.A. was a war zone before Freak Day, and it’s hell and gone now. L.A. was one of the first cities to fall. And not just because of freaks.”
“Pirates?” Piranha said.
“Plenty of those too, but even the pirates avoid L.A. Problem is, it’s a big desert—and once the water stopped running… no more trucks and trains, well…” He sighed. “Good luck with your sister.” From his voice, he was giving condolences.
Terry was silent. Kendra thought about her cousin Jovana and uncle in L.A. She’d always assumed they had fled, or had died, but the details made it worse. She and Jovana used to pretend they were sisters.
“What about Devil’s Wake?” Kendra said softly. “I might have a relative there.”
Meeks’s face brightened. “The island? Hey, that’s much better. I had some folks come through, trading from Redding. They said that they’d swapped goods with another outpost… gone now… but they had regular trade with Devil’s Wake. Fish, maybe. So they’ve got a little security, and maybe their city government survived the change. Sounds pretty solid to me. Only problem is, it’s maybe five hundred miles of hard driving.”
Kendra’s heart fell before it could fully stir. The Blue Beauty was already coughing and gagging. How could they make it so far?
“So we have options,” Terry said. “Threadville first. If we don’t like it…”
“We’ll see what’s next,” Piranha said.
“One day at a time,” Ursalina agreed.
“I vote for Vegas,” Darius said.
“Vegas!” Meeks said, and laughed deep from his belly. A couple of the other men outside laughed too. Kendra didn’t want to hear horror stories about Sin City.
Meeks swallowed his chuckles. “But seriously, one more thing: You get past the first roadblock, take the Ninety-six all the way to McKinleyville. Call it thirty miles. You’ll run into another roadblock around Blue Lake. Tell ’em Reverend Meeks said ‘Blue Thunder,’ trade ’em some of that corned beef, and you’ll get through fine. They trade on the coast, and they cut a fair deal. They’re not taking in outsiders, but they’ve got patrolled camping grounds, and you might draw an easy breath for the night.”
“Yes!” Sonia said, and the Twins whooped and high-fived.
Terry didn’t seem as excited, and Kendra wondered if they were sharing thoughts again: Could they make it that far?
“Just remember: be polite,” Meeks said. “The Golden Rule is the only rule left these days, and a bad attitude can get you shot. They’re decent folks, but times are hard.”
Kendra wrote it down, every word.
Reverend Meeks paused. “They’ll give you twenty-four hours to move on, or you might end up on a work gang, understood? You don’t want to be trimming brush back from the fences, burning free-fire zones, none of that. There are still freaks around. We lost a town just last week, thought it was clear. Trinidad.” His voice cracked slightly.
“North or south of here?�
� Terry said.
“Ten miles northeast. Pirates hit ’em first. Freaks did the rest.”
They all sat in a moment of silence for Trinidad.
Meeks’s smile was tinged with regret and sadness. “Wish we could keep you kids. I surely do. You hold on to each other, you hear? You may not be the family you were born to, but you’re all the family you’ve got now.”
They all nodded, murmuring. Kendra whispered, “Amen.”
Ursalina leaned over Kendra’s seat to whistle toward the woman who stood guard near the front of the bus, her rifle readied. The woman was in her thirties, tired and a little dirty, her hair windswept, her face red from the sun despite the cold.
“McKinleyville’s okay?” Ursalina called through her window. “Woman to woman?”
Kendra felt herself leaning closer too, her ears primed for guidance. A good town for the guys might not be a good town for all of them. Once anyone had guns on you, they could take more than MREs.
“Reverend Meeks’s word is gold,” the woman said. “McKinleyville’s okay if you are. But rapists get shot you-know-where.”
Sounded like Kendra’s kind of town. Ursalina smiled. The boys chuckled with rounds of Damnnnnn, making sixth-grade jokes about family jewels and singing soprano.
The woman laughed as if their playfulness had made her week. It couldn’t be fun to stand in the road and listen to people’s tragedies.
Meeks stood to climb out of the bus, moving as if his joints hurt.
“Reverend?” Kendra said. “Will you pray for us?”
“Already am, sweetheart,” he said hoarsely. “Have been since you drove up. The good Lord hasn’t been happy with us lately, just like the Flood. But never stop praying. Maybe one day he’ll be ready to open back up for business.”
TWENTY-EIGHT
La playa.
When Ursalina Cortez’s mother talked about what she missed most about living in Puerto Rico, she whispered the words with reverence: La playa.
The beach. She’d said it like the sand and surf were alive—sister, mother, friend. As if the Atlantic might have kept her safe from heartache. And hell, maybe she was right. If her parents had been on the island instead of in Miami when the infection hit…
Devil’s Wake Page 21