by James Sperl
Glancing upward, Derrik realized that the towering cliffs adjacent to the gas station had obscured the sun. The light the birds had used to sustain themselves above the rocky walls vanished as soon as they dipped below the ridgeline and into the shadow-bathed area of the station. Their time was coming to an end. But why had they abandoned the safety of the sun for such an assured death? Derrik could only theorize that, having no safe haven once the sun set, they were in the throes of death and the only thing that remained for them, it seemed, was to pass their impurity on before the impending darkness vanquished it from them forever. What had Warren said?
Their only goal is propagation.
Derrik swung wildly at the animals as they swarmed him, desperately trying to get back to his feet. But as soon as he achieved solid footing another wave of suicidal winged creatures were there to rob him of his gain.
In a flash, Derrik reconciled his situation. This was as far as he would get and he knew it. He’d given a noble effort, but it just wasn’t good enough. Lifting his head against the melee he found Janet at the door. Using every ounce of energy he still possessed, Derrik rose up on his knees, arched back and launched the stuffed elephant through the air.
The sight before Janet was paralyzing. A helplessness she’d never encountered overtook her. The flocking birds had downed Derrik, determining his fate with tainted, graceful swoops of their hellish wings. And now they were speeding toward her. There was no time to rationalize or to consider. There was only time to react.
Stumbling, she lunged for the door lever. She grasped it clumsily with both hands, fumbling to rotate it shut. Managing a grip she threw the lever forward. The door unfolded and slid toward its home position—but it didn’t close all the way. It couldn’t.
The stuffed elephant jammed in the opening was preventing it.
“Mommy!” Tamara screamed at the sight of her beloved toy.
Reaching out for the animal, Janet stole a look through the window in the door at Derrik as he struggled to get to his feet. He threw his arms around like windmills, trying anything and everything to stave off the attacking birds. She knew this was the last she would see of Derrick. At least the Derrik she had come to know and respect. The one that had stood by her unquestioningly. He had sacrificed himself for this toy. But maybe his sacrifice had nothing to do with the toy at all. Maybe his heroic gesture had more to do with its idea. Maybe it had to do with the preservation of innocence and the importance of remembering what life was like in simpler times. Whatever his intent, he would die for it. And Janet couldn’t allow his efforts to go in vain.
Placing a hand on the elephant, Janet tugged mightily, trying to force it through the narrow slit. She grabbed it with her other hand and pulled, but the space in which it was suspended wouldn’t accommodate the breadth of the toy. Against her better judgment she made a decision.
“Oliver!” Janet shouted. “On my go, open and close the door as fast as you fucking can.”
“Excuse me?” Oliver said, his incredulity undisguised.
“You heard me!”
“All right, all right,” Oliver stammered, wrapping his sweaty hands around the lever handle.
Birds began smacking into the bus with loud pops. Some burst into clouds of ash as they hit. Others simply stuck to the exterior in a gooey, blackened mess before sublimating.
Janet eyed the dive-bombing fowl and tried to time an attempt. But she knew there would be no perfect moment. There were just too many of them.
“Janet, just leave it.” Catherine said, approaching. “Let’s just get out of here. We can drive on down the road and open the door when we’re clear,” she pleaded.
Janet whirled on Catherine, intensity Catherine had never before seen burning like a smoldering fire in her eyes. “I am not leaving Derrik. And neither are you. Oliver!”
“Yeah!”
“On my mark.”
Catherine backed away. There was no reasoning with Janet now.
“Three...two...” Janet began, her knuckles white with anticipation. She took a deep breath. “One!”
Oliver yanked with his whole body, the door shooting open. Janet pulled the elephant in with ease just as Oliver threw himself on the lever to shut it. The door rocketed forward sealing everyone safely inside. Too easy, Janet thought.
Peering through the window of the bus door, Janet caught sight of Derrik as he made a break for the convenience store. Rushing for the entrance, he pushed his way inside and slammed the door behind him.
Emotions weighing on her like a lead vest, Janet turned to Tamara and extended her arm, holding out Mr. Sniffles. “I believe this is yours.”
Tamara smiled despite the tears that stained her cheeks. She walked to the front of the bus and held out her arms, ready to embrace her toy. She stopped just shy of Janet and reached out. “Thank you, Janet.”
“Don’t mention it.” Janet forced a pained smile.
But just as Tamara prepared to retrieve the animal, another hand clamped down around her wrist. Not only did it grab her with authority, it pulled her backward, away from Janet. Away from the elephant. Tamara looked up to find the owner of the offending hand, surprised to discover Catherine.
“Mom?”
Catherine didn’t respond, didn’t even look at her daughter. For her gaze was someplace else. Someplace in front of Tamara. Her pallor became a ghastly white, color visibly leaving her face.
Janet’s meager smile all but dissolved.
“What, Catherine? What is—”
She didn’t need to finish the sentence. It was obvious. There for the world to see. And now, for Janet, the world had been reduced to a narrow tunnel of darkness. One that blocked out her surroundings and all that existed and focused its attention to the stuffed animal she held in front of her. Or more to the point, the hand that held it.
Janet retracted Mr. Sniffles incredulously, her watery eyes locked on the back of her own hand. It was difficult to focus on the image in front of her. Tears and the blinding paranoia of truth reduced it to a blurred, incoherent smudge. But as her hand neared her face and clarity intervened, the evidence became irrefutable.
A gash. Maybe two inches long.
How? When?
The answer was, of course, irrelevant. What mattered now was that it was. Janet looked up suddenly and discovered the entire bus on their feet, staring at her with wide-eyed apprehension and sadness. Oliver, still sitting in the driver’s seat, moved away, pushing himself up against the window.
Catherine maneuvered Tamara behind her.
“Janet, I...” Catherine said. “Jesus Christ.” It came out as a whisper and was followed with a subconscious step towards Janet. It was the kind of thing a compassionate person and a mother of three did without so much as a thought.
Dropping the elephant, Janet snatched a shotgun from the guardrail in front of the first seat where it had been affixed for emergencies—much like the one currently taking place.
Tears spilled from Janet’s eyes as she leveled the weapon at Catherine then quickly panned it over the remaining individuals on the bus. It was the kind of thing a compassionate person and watchman of killers did without so much as a thought.
“Just stay back!” Janet spat. “All of you. Just stay back.” She swiped at her face, stopping a pair of tears from reaching her chin.
Catherine raised her hands defensively, putting herself between Janet and as many of her children as possible.
“Take it easy, Janet,” Catherine said as calmly as she could. “It...it may not be what you think.” Catherine knew this was a weak attempt at consolation, but something needed to be said.
“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Janet said with dripping sarcasm. “I probably just cut myself shaving and didn’t notice it all day.” She turned her head and stared through the glass.
The birds were diminishing in frequency of attacks. Dozens of miniature steam plumes originated throughout the parking lot, the remnants of downed imitation birds. Janet thought i
t resembled a miniature version of Upper Geyser Basin in Yellowstone, a place she’d only seen in photographs but had always wanted to visit. It would appear that pictures would have to suffice.
Craning her neck, Janet searched the sky. It was clear, save a few straggling clouds. The sun was down and the remaining birds that attempted attacks on the bus had lost whatever energy the sun provided them, falling rather than flying. The brush with death, it appeared, was over.
But for Janet, it was just the beginning.
The commotion at the head of the bus had been a welcome diversion. While the majority of passenger windows had been sealed tight, the bus virtually impenetrable, a weak link in the chain had been overlooked.
One in the back had been left open.
And when the frenzied attempt to close it was met with a scratch on the arm from a kamikaze bird, Janet’s situation suddenly became of particular interest. For if she and Derrik survived, if they were still here in a day, then there was hope. Hope that the tiny abrasion below the wrist was just that and not something more dire.
But for now, silence was the best option. With a simple roll of the sleeve, all could be concealed. For now.
Looking at a watch, one of the few remaining survivors hunkered down and watched as Janet exited the bus. Time would tell now, the only option to wait.
21
Janet
Three hours had passed. In twenty more hours, the outcome to Janet and Derrik’s predicament would be revealed.
It had been unanimously decided to wait and see how they fared despite Janet’s protestations. With just a little under two days of travel time left to reach Alamogordo, Catherine and the others realized they’d be cutting it uncomfortably close. But they’d all come too far together to start abandoning people now.
Janet and Derrik holed up in the convenience store and tried valiantly to get some rest, though everyone knew this was an impossibility. They’d been here before.
Derrik had suffered fewer injuries than expected. With only a handful of minor cuts to his arms and face, the most imposing wound had been inflicted to his elbows when the birds had knocked him to the pavement. He would heal rather quickly if he survived.
If he survived.
The sun was on its downward trajectory toward the mountains, nightfall only a handful of hours away. Catherine had prepared a plate full of crackers, jerky and dried apples to bring to Janet and Derrik, but as suspected, no one was hungry.
She set the plate down and looked in at Derrik and Janet through the dusty glass door, he sitting quietly on the floor, she pacing back and forth like a rabid hyena.
“You don’t have to stay here,” Janet said.
“I know,” Catherine replied. “But I want to.”
Janet stopped in mid-pace and looked up. A tiny smile cracked on her lips. “Catherine Hayesly, you are one of a kind, I’ll give you that.”
“Thanks. I think.”
Janet walked over to the door, the thin sheet of tinted glass all that separated her from Catherine. She looked up at the sun’s position in the sky.
“It’ll be getting on time soon,” she said.
Catherine nodded. “Yep, I guess it will.”
Janet nodded back, her eyes welling slightly. “Now, listen to me, Catherine. You all have got to push and push hard. No stops, no bathroom breaks. You just go until you get there. You understand?”
Catherine recoiled a bit. “Whoa, whoa. Don’t you say that. Don’t you give up yet.”
“I’m not giving up. I’m just keeping it real.”
Janet leaned closer to the door and stared directly in to Catherine’s eyes. “Look, Catherine. You and I both know what the likely outcome is here. And pretending that it could be something else is just wishful thinking.”
Catherine nodded furiously then, without notice, burst into tears.
“Come on, now,” Janet said. “There’s no time for that.”
Rubbing her eyes with her palms, Catherine shook off her burst of emotion with a shudder. In doing so, she didn’t see Janet wipe a single tear from her own cheek.
“I know, I know. You’re right,” Catherine choked out. “I just never thought this was how it was going to end.” She looked up, hoping the words weren’t too on the mark. “I was really looking forward to that beer.”
“Me, too.” Janet looked to the ground. “You all need to go, Catherine. Right now.”
Catherine snapped her head up, a new shock in her eyes. “What? No, no...there’s still a chance. We need to wait and—”
“It’s happening, Catherine.” Janet peeked over her shoulder at Derrik who sat surprisingly calm. He drew cartoon pictures in the dust on the floor. “We’ve both been feeling...different. Peculiar.”
“But...but that could just be your minds playing tricks on you. Making you think something’s going on when it might not be.”
Janet closed her eyes and shook her head. “You need to face the truth. Just as we have. Our journey ends here.”
Tears formed in Catherine’s eyes again, but she somehow managed to reign in her sadness.
“What do I tell everyone?”
“The truth. I’ve often found that works best.”
Catherine stared emptily into space, this new revelation too much to assimilate. While she and Janet had certainly had their differences, and it was no secret that they’d each been cut from two very different swaths of cloth, Catherine couldn’t deny the underlying bond that had formed between the two. As rough and prickly as Janet was on the outside, Catherine knew it was only a defense mechanism to protect that vulnerable and fragile inner person Janet truly was.
“They’re going to be looking to you now,” Janet said peacefully, jarring Catherine back to reality. “And you need to be there for them.”
“Me?” Catherine said, an air of mild protest in her voice. “I’m not a leader. Jesus, I’ve barely been able to keep it together, let alone look out for the safety of my kids.”
“Maybe. But you did it. You’re all here. And the very reason you’re able to kiss your daughters good night and take Josh to task over sun block is because you are a leader. I know you feel a lot of your journey’s been luck, but maybe part of being a leader is embracing karma and not arguing against why it occurred.”
Catherine listened to Janet intensely, every word inspiring needed confidence. She cleared her throat. “Can I get you anything...you know, before we go?”
Janet glanced briefly at Derrik. “Yeah. A shotgun round. I thought I had more, but...there’s only one.
“I’ll bring you some.”
“No. Just bring me one. It’s all I need and you should keep as much ammunition with you as you can. You never know what you’re going to be up against.”
The truth settled in Catherine like silt to the bottom of a lake. This truly was goodbye.
“Okay,” Catherine said simply and walked off toward the bus. When she returned she found a white garbage bag bundled and tied sitting outside of the door. Janet caught her expression.
“It’s Mr. Sniffles. I figure once you get where you’re going you can have it tested or something to make sure it’s safe. No reason the girl should have to part with it.”
Rather than a smile, Janet was met with a look of concern, which she immediately understood. “Don’t worry,” she said, “I used gloves when I tied it up. Found some behind the counter. The bag should be okay.”
“I’ll take it to her,” Catherine said with the tiniest of smiles. “Thanks.”
“Don’t mention it.”
“And, uh...I’ve got what you asked for.”
Janet nodded knowingly. “Just set it on the chair.”
Catherine unclenched her fist which she came to realize was sweating profusely, the single shotgun shell in her hand coated with a thin sheen of perspiration. She set the shell on its end beside the plate of food.
Janet just stared at it, her eyes slowly trailing back up to meet Catherine. “So, I guess this is it.”
/> Catherine fought tears with her entire body, but a pair managed to escape her eyes. She let them fall.
“I...I just want to thank you,” Catherine managed to get out.
“For what?”
“For helping us. For everything. Without you we would’ve never made it this far.”
“Bullshit,” Janet said simply.
The response drew Catherine’s head up quickly, her body tensing reflexively at this sudden utterance. But the tension immediately melted away as each woman broke into smiles then followed it with laugher. It passed almost as soon as it began, the enormity of the situation looming like a pressure cloud between the two.
“You better get moving. There’s no time for you to be wasting.”
Catherine nodded. “I guess so.” She opened her mouth to say something else, but thought better of it. Offering a last, forced grin, Catherine tapped the glass of the door with her open palm. “Godspeed, Janet.”
Janet bobbed her head once. “And to you.”
With that, Catherine turned away. The emotions swirling in her were of such disparate elements she could barely glom onto a steady feeling. The sadness of Janet was invariably usurped by the real likelihood that in one more day she would be with her husband again. But as soon as this scenario played out, it was replaced with the journey that lay ahead and the dangers they surely faced. This, then, brought her right back to tears for the woman about to die on the other side of a gas station door.
“Hey, Catherine Hayesly,” Janet’s muffled voice called, muted within the confines of the convenience store.
Turning back to face her, Catherine saw she had one palm laid flat on the glass.
“You and me may never have been friends in a different life,” she began. “But we were in this one.” Curling her open hand into a fist, Janet laid it across her heart. And with a single nod, backed away into the shadows.
The bus pulled unceremoniously out of the gas station, thick exhaust spewing from its tail pipe. It kicked up a small cloud of dust as the tires transitioned from the gravel and dirt of the parking lot to the smooth asphalt of the road.