Extinct

by Hamill, Ike

  “I’ve heard of that,” Nate said. His hand slipped forward and snatched a cracker from underneath a piece of cheese. He handed it to Brynn before reaching for one of his own.

  “They also believed that spirits inhabited those elements. Those were called the Elementals. We’ve seen or experienced things which seem to fit this pattern. I saw sentient tornados and water. A guy named Luke from Virginia saw columns of fire patrolling the roads,” Robby said.

  “I saw a rock monster,” Brad said.

  “And several of us saw people snatched away to nothing,” Lisa said.

  “Aether,” Nate said.

  “For lack of a better explanation,” Robby said. “That’s how we’ve characterized the disappearance.”

  “And which Elemental made everyone’s eyes pop out?" Nate asked.

  After a short silence, Robby said, “It’s just a framework we’ve hung theories on.”

  “And Elementals hate corpses?" Nate asked.

  “I think of the Elementals like an immune system. They were let loose to clean up the area so something could gestate on or in the planet. We’re going to take the corpses up to the embryo and infect it with biologic material it’s not ready for yet.”

  “Why do you think a thousand will be enough?” Nate asked.

  “Based on the area it cleared, and my estimate of the survivors, I think it needs about eight-thousand square miles with less than ten tons of animal material. We’re going to drop over five times that amount right into its lap,” Robby said.

  “It just occurred to me—it cleared out live animals, and we’re going to hit it with dead ones,” Brad said. “What if corpses have no effect?”

  “The clearing it did was on a budget,” Robby said. “For a certain radius it took out everything, then left a ring of the burst-eye corpses, and then cleared out everything again. If it could deal with dead bodies, it wouldn’t have cleared everything out before the snow came down.”

  “Sounds like a big butt-load of conjecture,” Nate said.

  Brynn snickered and then clamped his mouth shut and twisted his face down into the arm of the couch.

  “A lot of Robby’s documentation and evidence was lost in the fire,” Ted said.

  Nate didn’t respond other than to shake his head and frown.

  “Where are you from, Nate?” Lisa asked.

  “Originally? Texas,” Nate said. “I’ve been living up this way for a long time though. I like it up here, at least I did until, you know. I’ve thought about heading back south one of these days.”

  Brynn shot him a glance and then snuck a hand forward to grab another cracker. He took one with cheese on it. Lisa leaned forward and pushed the platter to closer to Brynn, but the boy took his one cracker and sat back again. He held his cracker in both hands and began to nibble around the edge without disturbing the cheese on top.

  “Did anyone tell you about Luke’s group?” Lisa asked. “They headed down towards New York a couple of weeks ago.”

  “Yeah,” Nate said. “Robby and Pete told me about him. I might try to follow their tracks south once I’m done with you guys. Might be safer to follow in the tracks of someone, you know?”

  “Robby, have you heard anything else from Judy?” Lisa asked.

  “No. She checked in by radio the first night, but she hasn’t checked in again. They’re either out of range, or the radio’s broken, or maybe… I don’t know,” Robby said.

  An uncomfortable silence grew in the room.

  “Nate, are you going to help us drive the tractors up north?” Brad asked.

  “Why not?" Nate asked. “Trucking up into the land of forty-foot snow drifts? Sounds like my kind of fun. Beats sticking around here. Besides, I’ve never been afraid of a little snow.”

  “I don’t mind say—I’m a little scared,” Brad said. “I don’t know if it’s one of the Elementals, but there’s something up there. I was moving fast on a snowmobile. I worry about what might catch up with us when we’re dragging those sleds.”

  “What about you, Robby?" Nate asked. “You worried?”

  “No,” Robby said. “I’m only worried about what will happen if we don’t stop that thing from maturing.”

  Lisa jumped up and strode to the kitchen. Seconds later, her voice called out from the archway—“Bread’s ready. It will cool off while everyone fixes a plate.”

  Brynn was the first up. He launched from the couch, planted a foot in the middle of the coffee table, and bounced over the opposing couch on his way to the kitchen. Nate smiled and stood with the rest of the group. The men and women filed through the arch to the smell of fresh bread.

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  NATE AND BRYNN left soon after dinner. The boy ate a huge amount of food in a short time. He looked half-asleep as Nate guided him towards the door. They declined offers to stay in an adjacent apartment and said they’d return shortly after sunrise.

  After they’d left, the seven men and women reconvened in the big living room to talk about the departure. Brad was the last to join the group—he had volunteered to wash the dishes after dinner.

  Pete was mid-sentence—“…with me. Put Brynn in someone else’s tractor. There’s no reason not to keep an eye on him.”

  “I’m not comfortable driving one of those rigs anyway,” Robby said. “Why don’t we ask Nate to drive one and I’ll ride along?”

  “You’ve seen the inside of one of those snow tractors. It’s not even as hard as driving a car,” Pete said, “and you’re plenty good at driving. You’ll be fine.”

  “I had no problem with it,” Sheila said. “Besides, we’ll be going so slow that if you get into trouble, you just back off the throttle and wait for Pete to come help you.”

  “Exactly,” Pete said. “Nate will ride with me, and Brynn can ride with one of the women. He seems to like girls better anyway.”

  “I still say we should leave tonight,” Ted said. “Makes me antsy, just waiting around until morning. Those tractors have lights on them. Why can’t we get underway?”

  “I’d like one more night in a bed, if you don’t mind,” Romie said. “I’m not anxious to try to stay awake after eating my weight in canned food.”

  “We should at least have a guard out there with the vehicles,” Ted said. “I’m going out there. If you hear two shots in a row, I need help.” Ted pushed up from his chair and headed to his room. He returned with a backpack, sleeping bag, and thick jacket.

  “See you all in the morning,” he said.

  “I’ll be out to check in with you in a couple of hours,” Brad said. “Don’t shoot me.”

  “Stay well-lit with a flashlight, and I won’t.” Ted said, smiling.

  “We’ll be there at sunrise,” Robby said.

  “Night, all,” Ted said, closing the door behind himself.

  Pete moved to the sliding-glass doors and looked down in the direction of the highway.

  “Can we go over the list one more time?" Lisa asked.

  Romie practically bellowed—“That’s it for me. I’m hitting the sack. A decent bed for the last time in a long time, I’m sure.” She kept talking as she moved towards the door. “If your shower hadn’t burned down with the rest of the place, I’m not even sure I’d be going with you on this little errand. I miss showers.” She closed the door behind her, but the others could still hear her complaining as she made her way to the apartment down the hall that she shared with Lisa.

  “I wish we had enough people to drive in shifts so we didn’t have to stop,” Sheila said. She’d been sitting on a stool at the bar, but when Romie left she’d moved to her spot on the small couch. The four seated people—Sheila, Lisa, Robby, and Brad—leaned in closer to each other now that their number was diminished. Pete stayed at the glass door, still looking for Ted.

  “Luke’s probably got the rest of them all killed by now,” Pete said.

  Robby’s head dropped. The young man looked down at the floor.

  “I’m sorry, Robby. I didn’t
mean it. I’m sure Judith is fine,” Pete said.

  “Call her Judy,” Robby said. “Her brothers used to call her Judith when they’d tease her.”

  Pete nodded. He turned back to the view and then reached for binoculars from the end table.

  “Hey,” Pete said, “kill the light, will ya?”

  Brad dimmed the lantern until the mantle glowed cherry-red.

  “Yup,” Pete said, peering through the binoculars out into the night. “That’s him. He’s headed for the tractor in the middle.”

  Sheila swirled her mug. Just a trace of coffee clung to the bottom. “I’m never getting to sleep tonight unless I have something a little harder.” She stood and made her way to the kitchen.

  “Maybe you should lay off the coffee?” Lisa called out.

  “It’s decaf,” Sheila said. Her voice carried easily from the kitchen. She came back with a fresh cup of coffee, topped off with enough creamer it glowed in the dim light. In her other hand she carried a bottle of Irish cream.

  Brad squinted to see the bottle she set down on the table. “Is it still good?” he asked.

  “Says two years after opening,” Sheila said. “Tastes good and smells good, too,” she added, holding the bottle under her nose.

  “Let me get two fingers of that,” Brad said, holding out his glass. His first sip was barely a drop, but he liked the taste. He drained his glass in two good mouthfuls. Heat bloomed in his belly.

  “What do you think, Robby? You want to get drunk for the first time?" Sheila asked.

  “I’m off to bed,” Robby said. “I’ll make a hot breakfast in the morning.”

  “Don’t go to bed. I didn’t mean anything by it. I swear,” Sheila said.

  Lisa put her hand on Sheila’s shoulder.

  “It’s okay,” Robby said. “Night.”

  Robby disappeared down the hallway to his room.

  Pete wrapped the cord around the binoculars and took a seat next to Brad. With a sigh he stretched to reach a coffee mug from an end table. Pete wiped out the mug with a bandana before pouring himself a generous helping of whiskey.

  “Ted get settled?” Lisa asked Pete.

  Pete shrugged as he took a gulp of whiskey. “He’s in the middle tractor. I don’t know how settled he is.”

  “Isn’t he the one who said we should always stay together?” Brad asked.

  “Yup,” Pete said.

  Brad poured himself another half-inch of the Irish cream.

  “He misses his wife,” Sheila said. “Marie.”

  “Does he think he’s going to find her out there?" Pete asked.

  “Don’t be cruel, Pete,” Sheila said. “He’s heartbroken.”

  “Aren’t we all?” Brad asked.

  “I haven’t had time to be heartbroken,” Lisa said. “I don’t know about the rest of you, but just surviving takes up most of my time. And hauling corpses for Robby, of course.”

  Pete muttered a single “huh” into his cup as he took another sip of whiskey.

  “I wonder what the others are doing right now,” Lisa said. “You know, the people who went with Luke.”

  “What was the name of Robby’s friend? Judy?" Sheila asked.

  “Yes,” Brad said. “Judy.”

  “They were so close,” Lisa said. “You could almost see Robby’s place from where me and Romie were living, and Robby and Judy went everywhere together. They were really close. I can’t believe he wasn’t more broken up when she decided to go with Luke instead of coming with us.”

  “He’s just a boy,” Sheila said. “Kids that age don’t get upset about anything except zits and video games.”

  “You know him better than that,” Lisa said.

  “I know the face he chooses when he’s around us,” Sheila said. “But I don’t pretend to know who he really is. You can’t really know someone if they haven’t even figured out who they are yet.”

  “You sound like my former brother-in-law,” Pete said. “He was always saying inscrutable shit.”

  “All I meant was that Robby hasn’t lived long enough to know how he really feels about anything. Don’t you remember how morally ambiguous the world was when you were a teenager?" Sheila asked. “Robby’s a little too young to get broken up about Judy leaving.”

  Brad shifted in his seat and rolled his mug between his hands. “I think he was really upset; is really upset. He’s just good at hiding it.”

  “Does that mean we shouldn’t trust him?" Lisa asked.

  “I never said that,” Sheila said. “I still think his reasoning is sound.”

  “I do too, or I wouldn’t be here,” Pete said.

  Brad sipped his whiskey and thought about Pete’s statement. He didn’t share the man’s sentiment. He’d told Romie that Robby’s theories could only be proven through testing. Trust in the reasoning didn’t enter the equation. So why was he risking his life? Brad chose to stick with the group because they seemed like good people, and he’d rather be with them than be alone. The world had become a dangerous place with little hope of survival. Why not risk his life? Wasn’t every potential move in this new world a risk?

  “I used to have a girlfriend from college who lived in this building,” Sheila said.

  Pete raised his eyebrows and cocked his head.

  “Not that kind of girlfriend, you pervo,” Sheila said. “Kendra lived down on three. Sometimes I’d come over from Westbrook and spend the night on her divan. We’d walk down to the Old Port on a Friday night.”

  “Party girls,” Pete said.

  “This part of town was so wholesome back then,” Sheila said. “Even the homeless guys were pretty decent. Kendra tripped on a curb on Chapel Street one time. She busted her knee up really bad. One street person ran and got a cop to call an ambulance. I mean he didn’t really run, he kinda shambled up the street, but still. What a nice town. In Westbrook they would have stabbed us, robbed us, and left us for dead.”

  “I used to hang out in Westbrook,” Pete said. “The drunk girls were the ones you had to watch out for the most. They’d kick your ass.”

  “Yeah, but we didn’t want to have to,” Sheila said, laughing. Before long Brad and Lisa joined in the laughter. Pete mimed being scared of Sheila and that kicked off another round of braying.

  Lisa snorted one last laugh and then set her mug down on the table. “I can’t stay up drinking all night if we’re leaving in the morning. Good night.”

  Pete stood with her and showed her to the door. He waved a silent goodbye to Brad and Sheila before heading off towards his bedroom.

  “I’d better go check in on Ted before I hit the sack,” Brad said. “I don’t want him to think he’s on his own tonight.”

  “Everyone needs to be on their own sometimes,” Sheila said. “In fact, I plan to be all alone with Mr. Bailey for a few minutes before I retire.” She tipped her mug and nodded at the contents.

  “I’ll see you in the morning then,” Brad said. He took a candle from the bookshelf and found his way to the coat closet. Hoping to hold on to the warmth in his belly, he wrapped himself in a thick coat, scarf, hat, and gloves—more than he’d need against the night air.

  “Take care,” Sheila said eventually. She’d become preoccupied with the view out the windows.

  Brad stretched the band of his headlamp over his hood and tested the light before leaving the apartment. He turned the knob to be sure it was unlocked before pulling the door shut.

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  IN HIS ROOM, with his blankets pulled up to his ears, Robby stared at his bedroom door. Just enough light from the cloudy night filtered through his curtains to allow him to see. He had slid the dresser, filled with the clothes of a husky teenaged boy, against the door before he crawled into bed. Robby did this every night. Logic guided most of Robby’s actions, but not this one—not any of the desperate things he did to feel safe enough to fall asleep.

  He counted to forty-three before he stole a glance over his shoulder at the window. No eyes were
looking back at him through the window. Nothing he could see was trying to get in.

  Robby clutched the visor mirror to his chest. It was the mirror from the Volvo he’d adopted down in New Hampshire. It was the mirror where he’d seen his father’s eyes looking back instead of his own on that night outside the rest stop. When sleep wouldn’t come he knew he could always look in the mirror and see his father’s eyes.

  He counted to thirty-eight before he pushed down the covers to make sure the closet door was still shut. Robby returned his eyes to the dresser and reset his count back to one. If he could count past forty-three before feeling compelled to look at the window, then perhaps he could eventually get some sleep.

  Four. Five. Six. Seven. There’s nothing in the window. My window is at least forty feet above the street.

  More than two-dozen times he’d told his story—recounted to another survivor how he’d ended up living in Portland after the big storm—but he’d never mentioned what happened the first night at the rest stop in the stolen Volvo.

  Eight. Nine. Ten. Eleven.

  He didn’t even allow himself to think of that night except when it crept back in around the edges of normal thoughts as he tried to fall asleep.

  Twelve. Thirteen.

  It was the curse of his treasured mirror. He held onto it because reflected in the small vanity mirror, his own eyes looked just like his dad’s. But the mirror also reminded him of that night; of what happened when he’d drifted off to sleep while watching his dad’s eyelids slowly droop closed.

  Fourteen.

  If he could hold off until forty-four, then he was making progress against his compulsion to check the window.

  When he held the mirror, Robby heard his dad’s voice in his head. “You’re being silly, Robby. You know that, right?”

  Fifteen. Sixteen.

  All he wanted was to go to sleep and give himself over to dreams he could easily forget in the morning.

  “Yes, Dad,” Robby thought.

  Seventeen. Eighteen. Nineteen.

  Robby fell asleep.

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  THE HALLWAY WAS COLD. It almost felt colder than outside. Brad walked right past the stairwell next to the elevators. Those stairs didn’t have any windows. Going down those stairs at night felt like descending into a deep cave below sea level. At the bottom level he would pause, afraid to open the doors, afraid seawater would rush in and drown him.