by Alex Mersey
Seriously? Jackson was enough to irritate her into an outbreak of hives. “And apparently only one of us lost any sleep over the breaking news.”
“Wait a minute.” His foot slid off the dash. “You’re saying it’s true?”
“And you’re surprised?” she snapped. “Get a grip, Jackson. We’re in the middle of an alien invasion, not that you’ve noticed.”
“I thought it was just a rumor,” he grumbled, sounding only marginally less irritated then her. “You’re the one with access to the top brass. Jeez, were you even going to tell me?”
“It’s supposed to be classified.” She arched a brow at him, relieved the bad news was out, but curious. “Who told you, anyway?”
“A friend of my brother’s.”
Like pulling hair from a monk’s head. “Does this friend have a name?”
“Brandon.”
The boy who’d gotten shot at Sunrise Farm. That would explain it. He was also Chris’ friend. Which meant Chris was spreading the word. Good!
“Well, it’s not just a rumor,” she said, “but you didn’t hear that from me.”
“I didn’t, actually,” he said with a dry laugh.
“Jackson…” She sent him another look, a fleeting one. They were passing close by the undulating dunes of ash and rubble that used to be Bridgewater and the road was littered with debris. It seemed that battlecruiser had zigzagged over the area, fired at will. “I’m sorry.”
“Forget it,” he said. “I already have.”
Of course he had. It’s only aliens and the end of the world, nothing to get your pants twisted into knots about. Beth swallowed a scream of frustration and swept her gaze over the skies above. Still clear. No clouds or battlecruisers or suspicious flocks of black birds that could turn out to be fighter drones.
“Upcoming right turn,” Jackson said.
She brought her eyes down, had to veer around an abandoned suburban as she took the turn. “How much further?”
“Next left and then we should see it.”
“Crap.”
“What?” asked Jackson.
She shook her head in silence, grimacing. She didn’t expect to find the hospital intact. The fighter drones had done a good job of pecking away at the large swathes of civilization that the battlecruisers had missed in their rush to annihilate the largest cities. But the fighter drones left battle-scarred towns and ruins to salvage from. The battlecruisers, however, incinerated everything to cinder and dust. If the hospital was next left they were still far too close to the strike zone for there to be anything left to rummage through.
“Left,” Jackson directed.
Beth hit the brakes and hooked left into a narrow lane. The ground flattened out as they headed away from Bridgewater, more trees and less buildings here to contribute toward the foreign landscape, a gray wasteland that reminded her of the long walk from Manhattan.
“Should we be seeing anything yet?” she asked.
“I think so.”
She eased off the gas a little. “You sure this is the right road?”
Bent over the map, Jackson traced a line with his finger. “It we hit a town called Solkirk in the next few miles, then yeah, we’re on the right road.”
It seemed unlikely they’d hit anything anytime soon, but then the road dipped into a valley and the gray quickly bled into green bush and woodland. Within minutes, they were in the thick of it, ancient hardwoods pressing from both sides. Beth was just starting to hope the hospital was tucked away in this forest when she saw the welcome board.
Solkirk
Population 1,230
She slammed a palm against the wheel. “We missed it.”
“We didn’t miss it,” Jackson said. “There was nothing to…” He trailed off as the lane curved into the main road of a quaint town.
Timber framed businesses and shops, cafes with pavement tables, all shaded in leafy trees. Cars were parked—or moved post-EMP—in designated bays. An American flag flew at half-mast from a pole in a square of grass surrounded by colorful flowers.
Beth stopped the jeep in the middle of the street, a scowl cutting so deep she could feel an ache forming behind her eyes. The Silvers had clearly skipped over this picture-perfect town, as they’d done with Little Falls and a number of the neighboring small towns she’d seen this last week, but a vital component was missing here.
“Where are all the people?”
“Maybe…”
She looked at Jackson. “Maybe what?”
He brought his gaze in from the empty streets. “I don’t know.”
That didn’t stop him from guessing as they climbed out the jeep. “Maybe they’re late risers. Maybe they heard the jeep coming and took cover?”
Beth stalked between two cars onto the sidewalk and cupped a hand to peer through a shop window. Some kind of earthen home store, lots of handcrafted clay pots and wooden bowls.
Jackson was still talking. “They must have fled when the Silvers attacked Bridgewater and just kept running.”
Tuning him out, Beth moved on to the next window. A hair salon with modern trimmings, floor-to-ceiling mirrors and sleek black leather chairs. She tried the door. Locked.
A rude clanging noise shut Jackson’s mouth and spun her about. Across the street, a fat ginger tubby darted out an alley and clawed up a tree.
“Stay here,” Beth said, pulling away from Jackson to go investigate.
The alley ran between a candy striped ice-cream parlor and a log cabin diner that boasted the name Capt’n Longbeard. The stench of rotted fish guts assaulted her nostrils as she drew closer, which explained the cat. Nose pinched, she peered into the shadows, past the knocked-over trashcan and rotted spillage. Nothing stirred in the dark alley, not so much as a breath of air.
A shiver coursed over her skin.
This place is a freaking ghost town!
Backing away from the putrid smell, she turned to tell Jackson it was just a hungry cat—her heart missed a beat. Where was Jackson? When the hell had he stopped babbling?
“Jackson?” She crossed the street again, looking around wildly, searching, sudden panic rising in her throat. This stupid town had the worse effect on her. “Jackson!”
He popped out from an entranceway three stores down, pushing his long hair off his face with one hand, flapping her over with the other. “Come check this out.”
She released a tight breath. “Idiot.”
The automated sliding door of the minimart had been propped open, far too civil for your average looter. The town had emptied out post-EMP then. Hours, at the very least, after she’d assumed the battlecruiser had flown over here.
When she stepped inside the store, that ache behind her eyes returned. The shelves were very well organized, and very poorly stocked. These people had been living, surviving, for days. How many, it was hard to say. The minimart was larger than the grocery shop in Little Falls, but the population was more than double, and she didn’t know if they’d had access to natural resources, like the farms, to supplement their supplies.
Jackson grabbed a trolley and started down the aisles. “Any requests?”
“No,” she clipped out, biting on the urge to stop him. This was why she preferred salvaging from the ruins, it didn’t feel like she was stealing necessities from other—no less worthy—survivors.
But if the town was empty, they couldn’t afford to let all this go to waste.
And if it wasn’t…well, then Jackson could always put the food back.
“Half a trolley,” she shouted. “That’s all we have space for. We’ll come back tomorrow with the tactical vehicle.”
No reply.
“Jackson?”
“Yeah, yeah, I heard you,” he called from the recesses of the store.
“Okay, I’m going to take a look around,” she informed him and made her way outside.
The residential streets spiraled out from behind the main road, packed with cottage-style homes and shallow front gardens. Some
front doors were locked, others stood wide open. Buckets of water in the bathrooms, gallon bottles in the kitchens. Washing still strung on the lines in the back yards. Newly planted vegetable plots. Precious canned and dry goods stored neatly in nearly bare pantry cupboards, tuna, condensed mile, protein bars, the kind of food you’d want to take with you on the run—if you’d had a chance to grab it.
Not a soul in sight.
Beth made it halfway up the second street before giving up and turning back. There was nothing she could do for these people. Or rather, there were no people here for her to do anything for.
Where are all the people? The question spun in her head, around and around, gnawing on her nerves. The sight of Jackson reclining against the windshield on the hood of the jeep, sucking on a soda and soaking in the sun without a care in the world, didn’t help.
He dragged the bottle down from his lips. “Find anyone?”
She threw her arms out. “Does it look like I found anyone?”
“Jeez, what’s eating you?”
“You seriously have to ask?”
“Apparently.” He slid down from the hood to join her as she reached the jeep. “Um…”
“Um, what?” she said impatiently, scowling at the sheepish look on his face. Then she saw the avalanche of junk food burying the rifle and shovels in the back. Bags of chips, packets of cookies, bottles of soda and Gatorade. “Is this it?”
“Half a trolley doesn’t buy you much these days.”
“I meant the quality, not quantity.”
“Ah, come on.” He dipped over the rear door to pluck out a Twix to tempt her with. “These are practically extinct.”
Beth swatted the chocolate bar away.
“Hey,” he said, not hurt or indignant, his voice butter soft. “Even you wouldn’t get this huffy over a luxury treat, so do you want to tell me?”
“I realize you prefer not to bother yourself with such trivialities, but everyone in this town is gone, Jackson.” She snapped her fingers in the air. “Poof.”
“You think I haven’t noticed?” He stepped in front of her, brows knitted in a grim expression, showing more concern over this apocalypse than she’d seen all week. Then he went and spoiled it with, “Just because I don’t go around in a constant state of manic depression doesn’t mean I don’t know the world’s gone to shit.”
“You are such an asshole, Jackson. I’m not depressed, I’m worried!”
His jaw slackened. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
“Of course you did, but my bad for being such a mood downer,” she lashed out with dripping sarcasm. “I’ll try to be more upbeat, really, about how suddenly wrong everything obviously went in this town, a town just like Little Falls, people surviving just like us. It could never happen to us, right? We have absolutely nothing to worry about.”
“You’re right, I’m an asshole and I’m sorry.” He brought out a smile. “My end of the world philosophy could use a little work.”
Beth drew in a deep breath for strength. “You have an end of the world philosophy.”
“I do,” he said. “You want to hear it?”
She leant back against the jeep and folded her arms, glaring into his warm brown eyes. His smile stayed, the warmth stayed, and the hostile irritation slowly drained. It wasn’t his fault her nerves were raw. Well, not all his fault.
“I’m sorry, too,” she said. “I’ve been on edge since I found out the Silvers were on the ground, and now this. Every time I start believing it’s safe to catch a breath, the rules change out from under me.”
His smile twitched. “There are rules?”
“Smirks the man with an end of the world philosophy.”
“You want to hear about it?”
“Please God, no!”
Jackson chuckled, then grew sober as he looked at her, reached out to put a hand on her shoulder.
It was not meant as an intimate touch, but still his hand was on her and all at once his body crowded her against the jeep and her mind dropped into the darkest, blackest moment of her life. One of many darkest, blackest moments she’d lived through recently, but it wasn’t a competition. One wasn’t better or worse than the other, the scale of the Silvers invasion could not be measured against the assault on her flesh and soul. Trapped against the wall, her nakedness exposed to that greedy leer, the cold metal of that gun abusing her skin, prodding and brutalizing, the paralyzing terror as she anticipated the click that would explode her from the inside out.
“We’ve had it pretty easy in Little Falls, I know that,” Jackson said, his voice tugging her halfway back. “And I know things are going to get a whole lot worse before…if they ever get better.”
Beth breathed in, breathed out long and shallow. Looked him in the eye, refusing to cringe away from his touch. Fuck you, Vince. You don’t get to control any part of me from the grave.
“You walked your way out of Ground Zero,” Jackson went on. “You escaped a drone strike on that hospital. I’d never brush that off. I’m just trying to keep my shit together for as long as possible in my own asshole way.”
His hand fell away as he shifted to cast a thoughtful look down the empty street and Beth could breathe again without concentrated effort.
“What now?” he said. “Do we find ourselves another hospital or do you want to head back?”
Beth hesitated, torn between heart and home. She was too on edge—this day was too unsettled—for her to be roaming this far from home, from Alli, from all those who might need her.
And yet…Alli might not be alive if they hadn’t had help, Private Ritter picking them up along the side of the road, bringing them to Little Falls and Doc Nate. And now Nate believed he could save someone else and she’d promised to help him do that.
“Hospital,” she said, “and I know exactly which one.”
She climbed behind the wheel and reached for the map Jackson had stuffed into the center console. Unfolding the extra square, she retraced the path she’d walked a week ago with Alli, Sean, Lynn and Johnnie until her finger tapped the Medical City near South Mountain Reservation.
She’d been sitting in the waiting room with Alli when Sean had rushed them out moments before the drone strike. She’d seen the main building explode, spit Sean out like a human cannonball. They’d watched the fighter drones, Black Arrows as Sean called them, crisscross the skies and blast through everything from there to Livingston. And then they’d walked through the remains of what was left.
Not a place she had any wish to revisit.
Jackson hopped over the door and slid into the passenger seat, saw where her finger tapped and raised a brow. “That’s quite a trek.”
Beth nodded and turned the engine. “It’s further than I wanted to travel, but at least I know what we’ll find once we get there.”
Blown out buildings and broken bodies. But large parts of the skeletal frames of those blown out buildings still stood, which could mean a treasure of medical supplies buried in a shallow grave on each floor.
As for the bodies, well, that was a hard decision she’d already made. If you elected to take from the dead rather than the living, then you’d better be prepared to dig through bones. They’d been fortunate so far, her and Jackson, but it had always just been a matter of time. And she didn’t kid herself. Just because they hadn’t uncovered any nasty surprises in their excavations yet didn’t mean the bodies weren’t there.
They drove mostly in silence, deeper and deeper into the devastated lands of the east coast. The mechanical rumble of the jeep in a void of artificial noise drew occasional movement from the suburban sprawls of concrete rubble and partially collapsed husks as they passed by.
Proof they weren’t totally alone out here.
Conscious of the sun nearing its midday peak and Private Ritter waiting on them, Beth didn’t slow down and had to engage in some fancy driving once or twice to avoid the runners. Time wasn’t her only concern. Not everyone out here could be relied on to be the friendly sor
t and the jeep, any working vehicle, was a precious commodity that some might easily kill for.
For once, Jackson was on the same page as her. He squished between the seats to unearth the assault rifle from beneath his stockpile of luxury treats and lay the carbine across his lap.
“Don’t get too excited,” he said when she gave him an impressed look. “I still don’t know how to use it.”
“So long as you know how to switch back the safety…” And he did, she’d made sure to show him on their first supply run. “With the right motivation, you’ll figure out the rest.”
“What about you?” he asked. “You ever had the right motivation?”
Vince’s face, flushed with sick desire, flashed before her eyes.
“Yeah, I’ve had the right motivation.” Beth said without a doubt. “But someone else beat me to it.”
She felt the intensity of Jackson’s stare on her, but he didn’t push and she didn’t elaborate. She refused to waste breath and energy on that bastard. Refused to even give him an ounce of her pain. She was stuck an ocean away from her family and friends, from almost everyone she’d ever known and loved. She didn’t know if she’d ever see them again. She didn’t know if she should mourn them or thank God for sparing them. Her heart pained, a physical ache whenever she thought too long on it, and she’d be damned if she let any part of Vince and his vile deeds into that space.
Beth’s grip had tightened on the wheel and she made an effort to loosen her fingers, rolled the tension from her shoulders as they turned onto the approach to the Medical City. They were coming up from the south and she wouldn’t have recognized it but for the forested slope of the South Mountain Reservation to their right. She eased her foot on the gas as they drew closer, bringing her speed below thirty as she navigated clusters of abandoned cars and heavy debris from office blocks that had taken massive damage. Some type of business park butting up against the Medical City?
All at once, the air around them split into a series of explosive cracks that peppered the asphalt right in front of the jeep.
Beth ducked and slammed the brakes.