by Sam Sisavath
“Car’s not going to last for long,” he said. “The grill looks like a pretzel, and we might have to slide out the window Dukes of Hazzard style pretty soon.”
“Maybe we should start looking for a replacement.”
“Shout if you see something. Maybe another Beetle. Or even better, a motorcycle or ATV.”
She kept an eye out, but every car was either a sedan that wasn’t much of an improvement over the GT, or a truck. Lafayette, like Texas, had a healthy inventory of trucks.
“How’s the gas look?” she asked.
“Dangerously low. And it might take a day just to get out of here. Too bad you don’t still have the helicopter.”
“Yeah…”
Nate sighed. “Shit, I’m sorry, Gaby. I know you lost friends in that crash. I need to think before I talk.” He paused, then added, “I have a big mouth. Everyone says so. I’m sorry. Shit, I’m so sorry.”
She didn’t know why she did it, but Gaby leaned over and gave him a peck on the cheek. Then she quickly sat back down and stared out the front windshield as if nothing had happened.
“I should shoot my big mouth off more often,” Nate said.
*
“IS IT NEAR here?” she asked.
“Across the highway,” Nate said.
“We should swing over.”
“Why?”
“I need to grab another radio to contact the island. They must be sick with worry by now.”
She was talking about the pawnshop, the same place they had found the ham radios two days ago. They were coming to the intersection now, and Nate took a left and went under the I-10. Another block later and they were at the familiar strip mall with Leroy’s and its bent burglar bars.
Nate parked in front of the pawnshop, and Gaby climbed out with her rifle and looked around. There was always something about the stillness of a city that made her paranoid, as if she could feel the ghosts of the former occupants watching her from every window, every door. It was unnerving, and she shivered slightly.
The muddy, foreboding look from the clouds didn’t help to calm her nerves. It was barely one in the afternoon, but it already looked like four or five, as if darkness were trying to creep up on her.
“See if you can find us another car,” she said.
“Not a whole lot of choices,” Nate said, scanning the area.
The parking lot didn’t have much to offer, though at this point any vehicle they could get running was preferable to the Mustang. She didn’t realize what bad shape the vehicle was in until she had to literally kick the jammed door open. A good chunk of the door was sliced, as if some wild, mechanical animal had gone to town on it with steel claws; the grill was hanging miraculously by a few random wires.
She went into Leroy’s, using the same section of broken windows she had crawled through two days earlier. There were still patches of darkness in the back of the store where the sun couldn’t reach, which made her sling the rifle and draw her Glock. She preferred the handgun in close quarters.
Gaby stood still for a long moment, sniffing the air, listening to every sound. There was just the soft wind outside the store and the quiet patter of her heartbeat. She scanned the darkness, waiting, waiting…
Come out, come out, wherever you are.
When nothing came out, she breathed a little easier, went around the counter, and grabbed one of the radios, then pulled a pack of batteries from a nearby rack. She crawled out of the pawnshop and stood back up under the moody skies.
It had gotten so dark so quickly that for a moment Gaby was taken aback.
It’s going to rain…
She put the radio on the badly damaged hood of the Mustang and plugged in the new batteries, then powered up the radio and spun the dial until she found the designated emergency frequency. She knew it by heart. Everyone did, even the kids. Will had made sure of that, in case they ever found themselves out here and needed to contact the island.
Hope for the best, expect the worse, right, Will?
She just hoped someone was monitoring it on the island at the moment.
Gaby picked up the receiver and pressed the transmit lever. “Song Island, come in, this is Gaby. Can anyone hear me over there? Over.”
She released the lever and watched Nate peer inside a white Ford Fusion across the lot. She guessed he was looking for a key. After a while, he gave up and moved to the next car, a gray two-door Kia hatchback.
“This can’t possibly be Gaby,” a voice said through the radio, “because the Gaby I knew was a virgin when she left us a few days ago, but I’m hearing stories of sex in hospitals and other shenanigans.”
She smiled at the sound of his voice. “I miss you too, Danny.”
“Oh, shit, it is Gaby!” Danny said. “How the hell are you, kid?”
“Alive and kicking.”
“Good to hear it. What about the other guy? Willard or something.”
“He was fine the last time I saw him. We split up this morning.”
“Lara’ll be glad to hear that. Personally, I don’t know what she sees in him. But back to you. Where you calling from, kid?”
“I’m still in Lafayette, looking for a new ride.” A dark patch of shadow fell over her and Gaby glanced up at the darkening skies. “I’m not sure I’m going to make it back today, Danny. It’s looking like it might rain.”
“I can see the clouds from here. Must look even worse up close.”
“I’ve definitely seen brighter days.”
“How are you for shelter?”
She looked around her at the strip mall. A Family Dollar store, a Wallbys Pharmacy on the other side, and a small mom-and-pop ice cream shop next to a Subway. The pawnshop behind her was probably the most secure building in the entire area, thanks to the burglar bars.
“Manageable,” she said.
“Took you a while to answer that,” Danny said.
“Just getting my bearings.”
“Are you alone?”
“I’m with someone. We’ve been traveling with Will since yesterday.”
“How is he or she with a gun?”
“Not bad. We’ll be fine if we have to stay the night. How is everyone over there? Are you guys managing without me?”
“So far, so good. Hey, Lara’s here.”
“Gaby,” Lara said, her voice sounding breathless over the line. Gaby imagined her racing to the Tower as soon as Danny radioed her. “Are you okay? Where’s Will?”
“I’m fine. And Will was fine when I saw him this morning.”
“What happened? Did you guys split up again?”
“He sent me back while he went to do some reconning.”
“What’s he reconning?”
Gaby told her about the camp and the pregnant women. About the towns, where people were being relocated, and everything Zoe had told them last night.
Then Gaby added, almost as an afterthought, “Josh was there. He’s still alive.”
“Josh is still alive?” Lara said, the shock registering even over the radio. “How is that possible?”
Gaby told her. Josh falling into the lake. Getting fished out by the collaborators. When she got around to what Josh had become, how he had been working with the ghouls, her voice threatened to break and she had to choke back the emotions.
She found, to her surprise, that she was more angry than sad.
Dammit, Josh. What the hell are you doing?
She was angry at him for thinking he needed to protect her and for putting it all on her. And she was angry for the loss of Jen and Amy and the button-nosed kid. The last few days only served to remind her all over again of how much she had lost, how much she still stood to lose.
Nothing lasts forever anymore. Not even my fond memories of dead loved ones.
“Oh, Gaby,” Lara said. “I’m sorry. Are you sure you can’t make it back today?”
She looked up at the sky again, at the gray clouds moving in. “It’s looking pretty bad, Lara. I’m not sure we should risk
it.”
“What about shelter for the night?”
“There’s a pawnshop that could work.”
“Where is it exactly, in case we need to find you later?”
“It’s in a strip mall at the intersection of Weston Street and Pillar Street, a couple of blocks from the I-10 freeway.”
“And it looks safe?”
“It might be our best option right now. That, or go look for a house with a basement.”
“It’s your call, Gaby, you’re the one over there. We’ll still be here tomorrow, and the day after that.”
She watched Nate all the way across the parking lot, peering in at a white Dodge.
“How are Benny and the others?” she asked. “Are they fitting in?”
“Fish and cold drinks, hot showers and clean rooms,” Lara said. “What’s not to like? By the way, Benny’s been asking a lot about you. Is there something I should know?”
“It was a one-time thing.”
“Does he know that?”
“He’s a guy,” she said.
Lara laughed. “Take it easy on him. He seems like a nice kid.”
“He is.” Nate was walking back toward her now, twirling a key ring on one finger and looking very proud of himself. “Lara, I have to go for now. I’ll call back in about an hour with an update, let you know if we decide to push on down south or if we’re packing it in for the day.”
“It’s good to hear your voice again, Gaby. You had us really worried.”
“I’m sorry we didn’t call earlier. Things were…hectic the last couple of days.”
“I know about Mercy Hospital. I’m just glad you’re both alive.”
“Will wanted me to tell you that he expects to be back by tonight, maybe tomorrow at the latest.”
“And he said he was just doing some reconning?”
“He promised me no hero stuff.”
“And he’s fine…?”
“He had all of his teeth, yeah.”
Lara laughed again. Gaby could tell it was nervous laughter. She couldn’t imagine what Lara had been through the last few days, and she felt guilty for having gone so long without radioing back home.
“That’s good to hear,” Lara said. “I’ve always been fond of his teeth.”
“I’ll see you soon, Lara. If not today, then the day after. Who knows, Will might actually beat me back to the island.”
“Hope springs eternal. All right, go do what you have to do, then call me back in an hour.”
“One hour.”
She put the receiver down as Nate leaned against the hood across from her.
“Song Island?” he asked.
She nodded. “What did you find?”
He held up the key, then pointed to a small, blue four-door Toyota Yaris in front of the Wallbys. “Small enough for ya?”
“Does it run?”
“Let’s find out,” Nate said.
*
THE YARIS WAS still in relatively good condition. It was a small, painfully compact car, though somehow it had managed to build in four doors anyway. The leg room wasn’t anything to crow about, but since they would be in the front seats anyway, that wasn’t really a consideration.
Gaby went through the glove compartment while Nate used a hose they had found in Leroy’s to siphon gas from the GT into the Yaris, leaving just enough in the Mustang to jumpstart the Yaris’s dead car battery. When the Yaris was running again, they smiled at each other.
“Song Island?” he said.
She nodded. “Why not? Song Island or bust—” She hadn’t finished when a drop of water hit her on the head. Gaby sighed. “Or not.”
It had gotten much darker while they weren’t paying attention, and as soon as she looked up, more drops of rain splattered the car’s dirty roof.
“Well, at least the car’ll be clean by the time we get to Song Island,” Nate said.
“Captain Optimist,” Gaby smirked.
“Captain what?”
“Nothing. Get in.”
They climbed back into the Toyota just as the rain really began coming down, pelting and washing away the dust and grime from the front windshield.
“Let’s drive it around to charge up the battery,” Nate said. “We can decide what to do in the meantime.”
She drove in circles along the parking lot while the rain poured down around them, the unrelenting tapping against the roof sounding like gunfire. Twenty minutes later, with the rain still making puddles over the parking lot, Gaby drove back to Leroy’s and put the Yaris into park.
She looked over at Nate. “Tomorrow?”
“Probably the smart thing to do.”
“Should we look for another place?”
“We might not find one with burglar bars.”
“Yeah, but those burglar bars aren’t exactly in place.”
“I could bend them back into place.”
She gave him a doubtful look.
“What?” he said. “I absolutely could, even with just one good arm.”
“What about the house you guys were staying in?”
“It’s up to you. I’m good either way. Pawnshop or dank basement?”
She thought about it. “I used to live out of dank basements. Never was a big fan of it. Besides, they didn’t bother with the pawnshop before, even with the bent bars. There shouldn’t be any reason for them to pay attention to it now. Right?”
“Are you trying to convince yourself or me?”
“Both?”
He shrugged. “There was a door at the back. Looked like an office. It would probably be a lot more comfortable than a basement.”
She thought about it for a moment, then nodded. “All right. Let’s hope it has a couch at least.”
Gaby grabbed her rifle and pack and hurried out, rushing through the wall of rain. Nate followed her into the pawnshop, the two of them crawling through inch-high puddles. Water had flooded in through the broken glass opening and reached all the way to the back in thick, cold rivulets.
They were shivering from the wetness and the cold chilly air by the time they made their way into an office in the back, where they found a big desk with bags of old chips that had gone rancid months ago inside one of the drawers. A small fridge in the corner held warm bottled water along with some spoiled food.
Gaby left the office door open to ventilate the room of the thick smell of abandonment. There was just enough sunlight from outside to light their movements. The room had two doors—the one into the pawnshop and another one in the back. There were, thankfully, no windows to worry about, and the place hadn’t been touched in eleven months, which put her mind further at ease.
She opened the back door by sliding the deadlock and leaning out, saw a large forest clearing behind the strip mall. A bulldozer sat in the middle, surrounded by muddy water. Two trash dumpsters stood sentry at the end of the lot, rainwater bouncing off their lids.
“Anything good back there?” Nate asked from behind her.
“Just a couple of dumpsters.”
She closed the door and locked it, then walked over to an old leather couch next to the desk and fell down with a loud, satisfied whump!
Nate sat down next to her and handed her one of the warm bottles from the fridge. “This is the life, huh? How could you possibly ask for anything more than this?” He sniffed the air. “What in God’s name is that smell, anyway?”
“Abandonment,” Gaby said.
“Oh. I was afraid it was me.”
She drank from her bottle, then opened her pack and took out some beef jerky Will had given her earlier. She handed one to Nate.
“I must have eaten a hundred of these things,” Nate said. “They’re starting to taste really gamey.”
“Better than nothing, so stop complaining.”
“Why are you always so bossy?”
She smiled and ate her beef jerky without any hurry, listening to the tap-tap-tap of the rain against the roof.
“How’s your arm?” she ask
ed.
“A little sore.”
“You have any pills left?”
He fished out the bottle of generic Vicodin from his pants pocket and shook it, listened to the clink-clink of pills inside. “Should get me to the island in one piece. Lara’s a doctor, right?”
“Third-year medical student.”
“Close enough.”
He opened the bottle and swallowed a couple of pills, then sat back with a sigh. She sat quietly next to him, enjoying the tap-tap-tap of the rain above them and the stillness of the building.
“What do you think Will’s doing now?” Nate said after a while. “You think it’s raining where he’s at?”
“I don’t know. It looks like a pretty big storm. Danny could see it from the island.”
“Good,” Nate said. “This city could use a little cleansing flood.”
CHAPTER 30
WILL
WILL HAD ALMOST died—really, really almost died—only once in his life. That was thirty years ago when he had been born. The doctors told his parents he was a complicated pregnancy and that there was a very good chance he would die during childbirth, along with his mother. His parents, perhaps with more than a little of the famous stubbornness people often accused him of, refused to accept the diagnosis. Especially Will’s mother, Charlene (Charlie to her friends). Will was born one week early, fighting and screaming and gasping for air. He lived, and so did his mother.
So death wasn’t anything new to Will, even if he didn’t exactly remember any of the details of the last time it had come for him.
This time, though, he remembered every second of it in excruciating detail.
The bullet chopped into his side, just above the waist. It was a through-and-through, which was the good news. The bad news was the ground exploding and clumps of dirt and grass cascading all around him like waterfalls.
Will continued squeezing the trigger on the M4A1. The magazine burned through half of its load in a matter of seconds, and the carbine felt lighter in his hands with every passing heartbeat as a result.