by Lukens, Mark
She looked around, jumpy, expecting rippers, or even the Dragon, to come out of the mist for her. She was upset that Brooke wasn’t there. She felt like Brooke should be there, that Brooke should be beside her at all times.
“Brooke!”
No answer.
Kate turned and looked back at the motel office. She wondered if Brooke was in there hiding. She wondered if Brooke had gone back into the office to find her drawings of the man and the woman, the drawings that seemed so important to her.
She felt something light landing on her shoulders. She turned around and saw the pieces of torn paper fluttering down from the clouds all around her. There seemed to be a million bits of paper, like big flakes of snow. And she knew, like how you knew things in dreams, that these bits of paper were from the drawing tablet. The Dragon had found Brooke’s drawings and he didn’t like them—he didn’t like them at all.
The white papers became a blizzard, blanking everything out.
And then everything was clear. Kate found herself back in the hell town where the Dragon ruled. She was in the same place she’d been in the last dream, deep in the town, across the street from the Evil One. He stood right beside the white lemonade stand with the DA symbol painted on the front of it in bright red paint. The metal serving dish with the dome on top was still there, the dome still hiding something horrible underneath it. The Dragon stood beside the stand, ready to take the dome away and reveal what was underneath. Blood was beginning to drain out from under the dome, running down the front of the lemonade stand in little rivers.
“What do you want?” Kate screamed at the man.
He was dressed exactly like he’d been before, all in black, an executioner’s hood hiding his face, only eyeholes showing, his eyes shining in the afternoon gloom. But she could tell that he was smiling under that hood.
“What do you want from us?”
The Evil One said nothing. He just stared at her, his gloved hand resting lightly on top of the little handle on the top of the silver dome, ready to lift it up.
But Kate didn’t want to see what was under there. She was afraid it was Brooke’s head under there.
“Kate.”
It was Brooke’s voice coming from somewhere close by.
But not from under the dome—she was sure of that. No, Brooke was somewhere close, calling out to her.
“Where are you, Brooke?” Kate turned around, looking at the ruined buildings of the town, searching through the grayness and the mist, searching for her.
“Kate, wake up.”
Kate felt a chill knife through her. Once again, she’d been torn with the feeling that she was both dreaming yet really here in this world. But Brooke’s voice felt like it was coming from another world—the real world.
“Kate . . .”
Kate’s eyes popped open. It was very dark and everything was quiet.
Had she been dreaming that Brooke was whispering her name? Why was it so dark? Why hadn’t Brooke woken her up like she was supposed to?
Kate sat up. She could make out Brooke right beside her, huddled up close to her. She could smell her.
“Brooke,” Kate whispered, her voice heavy with sleep. She reached out and touched Brooke, making sure the girl was really there, making sure this wasn’t another part of the dream. She needed to make sure that she wasn’t dreaming, that the Dragon wasn’t in the darkness with his eyes closed, ready to open them, his shining eyes finding her like search beams.
“Shh,” Brooke said, the barest of a whisper.
And then Kate heard the sounds of careful footsteps, the sound of hushed breathing, the swish of clothing. Someone was in the clubhouse with them.
CHAPTER 30
Kate stayed very still, careful not to move, not to breathe. She heard another soft footstep on the carpeting.
Rippers?
No. Rippers wouldn’t be this sneaky.
Another gang? The DA gang? Other survivors?
Kate reached out along the blankets, searching for the gun. She had stashed it in the corner, farther away from her and Brooke.
Someone whispered to another person in the darkness from across the room. Kate couldn’t make out what the words were. But she knew now that there was more than one person. At least two of them.
The whispers stopped.
Maybe the people were going away.
A few seconds ticked by, and then a bright light flashed in Kate’s eyes, blinding her. She lifted her hand up to shield her eyes.
“Don’t move,” a male voice said. “And keep your hands where I can see them.”
Kate was motionless, her one hand up in front of her face.
“It’s a woman and a girl,” the man said from behind the beam of light to the other one he was with. He used his other hand to cover the front of the flashlight a little, cutting down the light somewhat.
Kate lowered her hand just a little, staring at the muted light. She could make out the shadowy forms of the two people in the darkness. The man who held the light was big, the other person much smaller.
“Who else is with you?” the man asked.
“Nobody,” Kate answered. “It’s just us.”
“Weapons?”
“One gun. It’s in the corner behind me.”
“What kind of gun?” the other person asked—it was a woman.
“I . . . I don’t know. I don’t even know how to use it.”
The man and woman were silent for a few seconds.
Kate gave them a moment to think things through. There seemed to be only two of them so far, and one of them was a woman. Maybe they weren’t part of the Dragon’s gang. Maybe they were like her and Brooke, just two people trying to survive the aftermath of the Collapse.
“My name’s Kate,” she said, trying to connect with them. The man had sounded a little nervous even though he’d been trying to act tough. Maybe they were just as scared as she was. “This is Brooke. We just needed a place to stay the night. If this is your place, we’re sorry. We didn’t know.”
“We were doing the same,” the man said, and he seemed relieved. “Just looking for a place to sleep.”
“I still don’t trust her,” the woman said.
“They’re the only two here,” the man came back with.
“You can hold onto our gun until we leave,” Kate offered. She knew it wasn’t a good idea to give up their only weapon, but maybe it would ease the woman’s suspicion. She waited for an answer. She didn’t want to go for the gun or make any sudden movements.
“I think she’s okay,” the man said.
“You think everyone’s okay, creampuff,” the woman said.
The man had lowered the flashlight, his hand covering it completely now, choking off the light. They weren’t near any windows, but there was always the chance that just the faintest of lights could be seen from outside.
“Have you seen any rippers?” the man asked.
“Not so far,” Kate said.
“No more talk,” the woman snapped. “First, the gun. Toss it over here. Move slowly.”
“Okay,” Kate said. She glanced at Brooke. Their eyes met for a second. Brooke looked nervous, but not terrified. This wasn’t terror just yet—they’d both seen plenty of terror in the last few days.
The man took his fingers away from the front of his flashlight a little, letting the light shine on Kate as she moved slowly across the blankets to the corner. She picked up the gun and brought it back with her. She tossed it to the man, hoping the gun wouldn’t go off on its own. It landed with a thud on the carpeting near the man’s feet.
The woman’s hand darted in like a snake and snatched the gun. Her arm was sleeved with dark cloth. She wore black fingerless gloves and a leather band on her wrist. And then her arm was gone, back into the darkness.
The man covered the flashlight up again with his hand until the beam of light was just a red glow through his fingers.
“We need to get some sleep,” the woman told the man.
“We’ve been up for almost two days,” the man explained, and Kate could tell that he had directed his words toward her.
The woman sighed loudly like she didn’t want any of their information revealed.
“We’ll lay down over here,” the woman said to Kate. “You two are going to stay right where you are the rest of the night. No getting up and moving around. One of us is going to be awake with a gun at all times. You understand?”
“We understand,” Kate said. She looked at Brooke in the dark, but she knew Brooke wasn’t going to say anything to them.
“You had the last watch,” the man said to the woman. “I’ll take this one until morning.”
The woman didn’t answer. Kate thought the woman might protest him taking the watch, but she remained silent and the man seemed to take that as a confirmation.
“There are more blankets in the closet next to the kitchen,” Kate told them. “But there’s no running water and no food anywhere.”
“We have our own food,” the woman said.
Kate saw the ghostly glow of the man’s red fingers over the flashlight as he made his way across the room to the kitchen.
Brooke settled back down onto the blankets, lying still, closer to the corner now where the gun had been.
As she watched Brooke, Kate wondered what time it was. She wondered if Brooke had fallen asleep and forgot to wake her up. If she had, she wasn’t going to say anything about it now. There was no sense making her feel bad if she had fallen asleep. Kate had fallen asleep in the motel lobby; she hadn’t been awake when the men in the van had pulled up and entered the motel office, and she’d almost got them killed.
The man was back a few moments later with some blankets and pillows. There was no glow of light now—apparently the man was comfortable enough in the darkness now to make his way around without his flashlight.
Kate listened as the two of them arranged the blankets and pillows. It was cold in the clubhouse, cold enough for the blankets, but not cold enough to freeze to death. She closed her eyes and drifted off to sleep.
CHAPTER 31
Kate’s eyes popped open. She wasn’t sure how long she’d been asleep, but it was almost morning now. She could just make out the dark shapes of the pile of furniture in front of them and Brooke beside her in the early-morning gloom.
Brooke was sleeping on her side. She wasn’t breathing heavily, but she was definitely out, curled up around her drawing tablet and the pack of pencils. One of the smaller blankets covered her legs.
Kate glanced over at the man and the woman. The woman was farther away, curled up on her side much like Brooke was, only she was breathing louder. The man sat with his back against the wall, his long legs stretched out in front of him, his hands in his lap just under his pot belly.
“You okay?” the man whispered.
Kate realized that he was watching her. He knew she was awake.
“You were mumbling in your sleep,” he said in his low, deep voice. His tone was somewhat soothing. In a way, he sounded a little like Ted had, only without the southern drawl.
“Sorry,” Kate said even though she couldn’t remember dreaming anything. “Bad dream, probably.”
“I’ve had my share of those.”
They were quiet for a moment. Kate figured the man was done talking for now. But she was wrong.
“I’m Max, by the way. She’s Petra. Sorry about earlier, how we treated you two, but you can’t be too careful these days.”
“I know. I understand.”
“We’ll give you your gun back when you leave.”
It was good to know that she and Brooke weren’t being held prisoner.
“Is Brooke your daughter?”
“No. We found each other in a small town. She was hiding in a tunnel. I think her parents and everyone she knew is gone now. She was . . . she is pretty traumatized.”
Max made an uh-huh sound in agreement. “That’s nice of you to take care of her.”
Kate thought about mentioning that Brooke had saved her life, but decided not to.
“Where did you come from?” Max asked. “Are you from around here?”
“No. I came from Raleigh. I met Brooke in some small town. I don’t know what the name of it was.”
“Raleigh,” Max said like he was trying to picture a map in his mind. “So you’re heading west?”
Kate didn’t answer.
“I came down from Virginia,” Max said. “Norfolk. I met Petra on the way down here.” He stopped for just a moment like he was remembering the journey. “Where are you headed? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“I’m going to my family’s home.” She wasn’t so sure she should tell him the name of the town. She wasn’t so sure if she could totally trust him. What if he really was with a gang, or even the gang that carved the symbols into their foreheads? It was still too dark for her to see his face clearly just yet—he was still pretty much a shadow right now.
“It’s in the mountains,” she added.
Minute by minute the gloom was lightening up, and she could see the man a little better. She was beginning to make out his face. He wasn’t wearing a hat and his gray hair was cut short. She could see now that there was no symbol carved into his flesh.
Kate relaxed a little. She’d known he was okay, but the paranoia had crept up anyway. She studied Max a little more closely. He was tall, well over six foot, but he was a little overweight in the middle. He had a neatly-trimmed mustache and goatee.
“We’re heading south,” Max said. “Down to Florida and warmer weather. Maybe even the Keys. The winter’s coming and even in the Carolinas, it could get pretty harsh. You never know when the storm-of-the-century is going to come along. And it’s not like we can get a weather forecast.”
Kate was quiet as Max continued on.
“This doesn’t even feel real. You know what I mean? I mean, I know it’s real, but it feels like a nightmare. I mean, what the hell happened? And it all happened so fast.”
They were quiet for a moment. Kate listened for any noises outside, but there was nothing so far, not even the chirping of the birds yet.
“What did you used to do?” Max asked. “I mean before all of this happened. And hey, if I’m asking too many questions, just tell me to buzz off. It’s just that I haven’t had a lot of people to talk to.” He glanced over at Petra who was still breathing heavily. He leaned toward Kate, whispering and putting one hand next to his mouth like his hand would block his words from reaching Petra. “It’s not like I’m traveling with Social Sally over here.”
Kate almost barked out a laugh. She had to put her hand up to her mouth to keep it closed. She wasn’t sure what was so funny—there wasn’t anything funny anymore. Maybe it was the absurdity of it all, the absurdity of sleeping in a trailer park clubhouse with people she didn’t know. Maybe it was the absurdity of monsters prowling around in the dark, hunting in packs, eating human flesh. Maybe it was the absurdity of the DA gang and their leader, a person they called the Dragon who haunted her dreams and was apparently looking for her and Brooke. Yes, absurd. Maybe her mind was finally cracking. How much could a human mind take? How much could her mind take?
The day had brightened just enough so that Kate could see the amusement on Max’s face. He seemed happy that he had made her laugh.
“I was a professor at a university.”
“Wow,” Max said, and his astonishment didn’t seem faked. “What did you teach?”
“Anthropology.”
Here comes the pivot to another conversation, Kate thought.
But not Max. “Anthropology,” he said. “The study of ancient civilizations and their cultures. What did you specialize in?”
The question shocked Kate so much that she couldn’t respond for a moment, her mind coming up blank. “Uh . . . evolutionary anthropology. Prehistoric humans.”
“Like Neanderthals?”
“Yes, homo neanderthalensis. And homo erectus and homo denisova, among others.”
She had to stop herself before she really started boring Max out of his mind now. “What about you? What did you used to do before the Collapse?”
“Oh, I was a real estate agent and developer. Some people called it flipping houses, and I guess that’s an accurate description. My husband, Glen, he helped me with the flipping part. He knew a lot about construction. Used to be a builder. I was the agent and interior design part of the team. We made a good team. We made a lot of money until the economy started going downhill a few years ago. It got harder and harder to make a profit. Home sales were drying up. But we owned our dream home outright and had a lot of money saved.” Max’s words trailed down to nothing. He lowered his head, his chin sinking down into his chest. “Who did you lose?” he whispered.
“I wasn’t married,” she said. “No kids. I’m going to my mom and dad’s house. See if they’re okay. My sister and brother are there, too. Aunts and uncles.”
Max didn’t say anything. His chin was still resting on his chest, his large hands folded together on his lap.
“You don’t think my family made it, do you?” Kate said. It wasn’t an accusation, more of a statement. “Maybe they had some gas masks. Or maybe they were far enough away from the plague.”
“The plague is everywhere,” Max said. “I saw military and police turning into rippers, even the ones who had their gas masks on.”
Kate thought of the cop who had laid his hand on his gun that first day of the Collapse, telling her to go home. Had he been turning even though he had his gas mask on? She’d thought so at the time.
“So many turned except us,” Max went on. “All of those people turned within a week.”
“I think we’re immune to this plague,” Kate said.
“Yeah, lucky us.” He looked at her. She could see his face a little better, see that he was smiling. “We make a great pair—a college professor and a real estate agent. All the skills one needs to survive the apocalypse.”