by J. Thorn
He ran harder, putting a half-block of distance between himself and the thugs. Isaac doubted they still wanted his shitty phone. The chase had become personal.
A sedan screeched to a halt in the middle of Poydras Street. Another car slammed into it from behind. Men jumped out of both vehicles, firing at each other with handguns.
Isaac ran beneath a collapsed canopy on the sidewalk and turned the corner, heading toward where a white building sat at the end of an asphalt parking lot. He turned but didn’t see the teenagers coming.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and ran across the parking lot to the front of the building. Isaac saw the sign above the door which read, The Love n’ Play Day Care. As he approached, the door opened, and a woman with a gray bun and an eyeglass chain smiled.
“C’mon in. The street ain’t no place for a child.”
Isaac stepped through the door, and she shut it behind him.
“My name is Marie.”
“I’m Isaac.”
“Welcome, Isaac. Do you know how to play Canasta?”
37
“I need to talk to you.”
Monica had a strand of Chloe’s curly hair in each hand, trying to braid it into a “fashionable, new look.”
Chloe shifted her eyes to glare at Isaac without moving her head.
“Look, Isaac. I’m busy right—”
“It’ll only take a few minutes.”
Chloe patted Monica on the hand and then stood up. She moved across the hallway, entering Isaac’s room before him. She stopped in the middle of the room and turned around as the teen shut the door.
“What?”
“We have to leave.”
Chloe stared at him. “Why now?”
“Those guys lied to us. Both of them. We need to take the children and get out of here. It’s not safe anymore. Not with those two lunatics.”
“Look, I know what we found out from Neil is disturbing. I don’t disagree with you there, and I know it hurts you to know what’s gonna happen to your neighborhood. But we also don’t know what kind of position he was in at the time—what kind of choice he had to make. And as for Dax, he’s—”
“A monster,” Isaac said, cutting her off.
Chloe shook her head. “He’s not a monster. You don’t even know him, Isaac.”
“No,” Isaac said, moving closer to her. “You don’t know him. You might think you do, but that guy in there isn’t the Jackson you knew in high school. He’s an escaped convict. Have you forgotten that?”
“You knew all of this before. Why didn’t you say this to me before you went looking for him?”
Isaac paused, and Chloe could see the confusion in his eyes. He was, after all, still a teenager. Like most kids his age, he didn’t always act logically.
“I honestly don’t know. But I do know we have to leave. I’m sure of it.”
Chloe considered Isaac’s words. She wanted to believe Dax was the same guy she had dated in high school and not the convict who’d stolen a police officer’s uniform and could kill men with his bare hands. She shook her head, pushing the negative thoughts aside.
“Dax saved me from the gang. He helped this group. And even though he left, he’s here with us now.”
Silence.
“I’m not leaving. I can’t.”
“You don’t know what he did to end up in prison. Maybe he stole a car or got caught for armed robbery. It’s possible. But what if he raped someone? What if he killed someone?”
Chloe shook her head. “He wouldn’t do that.”
Isaac sighed and shook his head. “Then you’re more naive than I thought.”
Chloe moved closer to Isaac, her lip quivering and her voice beginning to crack as she spoke louder. “You know, you don’t really know me. For some reason, you think you do, but you don’t know the first thing about me. You don’t know how hard all this has been, to have him come back into my life. And you don’t know how I’m feeling. At all.”
“Maybe not,” Isaac said, shrugging. “But I can tell you one thing. I know a bad dude when I see one. And Dax—he’s no good.”
She stared at him for a moment and then moved past Isaac and headed for the door.
“Where’re you going?”
“Away from you.”
Chloe left the room without looking back. She headed down the hallway and into the stairwell, away from everyone. Once out of sight, she leaned against the wall and closed her eyes, content to be by herself for a while.
38
Dax sat near the door, his back against the wall. He’d been quiet so he could listen to Chloe and Isaac arguing down the hall. When it stopped, he listened to her crutches slapping against the old floor as she headed down the hall toward the stairs. He considered following her, to see where she had gone and exactly what their fight had been about. Chloe and Isaac had kept their voices low for most of the argument. Even so, Dax had heard his name more than once.
Let her go. Give her some space. You remember what used to happen when she wanted to be alone, and you barged in, demanding a resolution to some fight.
He stood up and went to the window. The sun peeked through gray clouds scattered in the sky. The day was threatening rain again. Dax looked to the floodwaters in the streets and sighed.
After Katrina, Dax had never thought he’d live through such an experience again, but here he was, staring down at the city as it flooded—again. Bodies floated in the water, and the stink was becoming unbearable. But things were different this time—displaying something much worse than when Katrina had befallen the Crescent City.
He couldn’t stop thinking about the eyes. Those glowing eyes. There had to be a scientific explanation. Bacteria, a virus—something. And it was more than the glow. The people he had fought and seen running through the streets acted more like savages than humans. Like monsters.
I can’t turn my back on them. Chloe, Isaac, Neil, the kids—they’ll all die without my help.
Dax turned from the window and marched out of his room to Neil’s.
He knocked on the door.
“Come on in.”
Neil sat up on the mattress as Dax entered the room, shutting the door behind him.
“What’s up, Dax?”
“How far did you say your brother-in-law’s place is?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a few miles.”
“I need you to tell me where it is.”
“Did Chloe and Isaac decide they want to leave?”
“It doesn’t matter. I’m going alone.”
Neil stood up. “What? I thought we weren’t going to split up again.”
“This isn’t splitting up. This is me finding the boat, so we can all get out of here.”
“Did you run this by Chloe?”
Dax put his hands on his hips and looked to the ground.
“She’s gonna flip out if you leave again, Dax.”
“It doesn’t matter, man. Did you hear those two down the hall? We ain’t got time for all that shit. You looked outside lately?”
Neil sighed and nodded.
“Didn’t you say we’re as good as fucked once that rain comes?”
“Yes.”
“Then I’ve got to do this. If that boat is a few miles away, I should be able to get over there, fix it, and get back before nightfall.”
Neil turned his back to Dax and stepped to the other end of the room. He stopped at the wall, staring at it.
“You’re right. You have to go do this. It’s the only way we’ll survive.”
“And we can’t let Chloe and Isaac know.”
Neil nodded as he turned around. “I know. You should go alone. We’ll only slow you down.”
“There needs to be a plan in case I don’t come back. You guys can’t stay here. You’ll have to lead them out, Neil. The kid is too emotional. And Chloe’s too stubborn.”
“So what’s your plan?”
After thinking for a moment, Dax said, “I’m going to try to get back tonigh
t. But if I’m not back by noon tomorrow, you’ll have to leave.”
“Noon? That’s not enough time.”
“You’ll need time to get everyone out of the city before the sun sets. Head as far north as you can. Try to find somewhere safe to sleep if you guys can’t make it out by nightfall. Once you get to dry land, find a car. Steal it if you have to. Then drive north.”
Neil shook his head. “You need to make it back.”
“But if I don’t, that’s what you have to do. You understand?”
Neil nodded.
Dax went to a desk on the other side of the room and grabbed a pen and paper off the top. He took it to Neil.
“Here. Write down your brother-in-law’s address and how I get there.”
Neil pressed the paper against the wall and scribbled down the address, along with directions. When he was done, he turned and handed the paper to Dax.
“There you go.”
“Thanks.” He turned and headed for the door.
“You leaving now?” Neil asked.
“Don’t want to waste any time.” Dax turned around when he reached the door. “Remember the plan in case I don’t come back.”
“I will.”
Dax walked back to his room, where he checked to see that his pistol was loaded and stuffed an extra magazine into his pocket. He unwrapped his leg to check on his wound. Although the skin around it was still red, it didn’t hurt as much, and there was no pus or swelling. Dax holstered the pistol and stood up then, heading for the door.
He went down the steps, through the lobby and out the front door to where the flooded city waited for him.
39
The three men stopped in front of the mansion.
“This is it,” Dax said.
“Man, what’s so special about this place compared to the others?” Chris asked.
“I have a feeling about it.”
Russell laughed. “Whatever, bro. Let’s do this and get out of here.”
“No one’s going to be home,” Dax said, shaking his head. “No way people like this stuck around during the hurricane. They’re long gone to their vacation mountain home or some shit.”
A few trees had fallen on the road and debris lay in the yard. Shingles had been ripped from the roof, windows were blown out. However, the neighborhood had been spared from much of the flooding and looting.
“You really think they’re gonna have cash lying around in there?” Chris asked.
“We’re not looking for cash. We’re looking for fancy jewelry, family heirlooms—shit like that.”
“Who we gonna sell that shit to once we get it, Dax?”
“Leave that to me. Let’s get the shit first.”
The two men shrugged.
“Russell, you stay out here and keep a look-out. Chris, you’re going inside with me.”
The three men approached the house, heading up the five stairs that led to the porch. Russell took a seat in a rocking chair near the front door.
Dax rolled his eyes. “You holler if you see someone coming.”
As Dax had expected, the front door was locked. He thought about breaking a window, assuming no one was around to hear it but decided against it.
“Get us inside,” he said to Chris.
Chris was the best of the three at picking locks, and he pulled his toolset out of his pocket and went to work. Within a few seconds, the mechanism clicked, and Chris pushed the door open. Its hinges creaked, echoing through the vast open entrance to the home. Dax crossed the threshold and entered.
He clicked on his flashlight, glancing around the room. He spotted a wraparound leather couch facing a sixty-five inch projection television. In the dining room, he saw a glass cabinet filled with plates, tea cups, and other collectibles.
“Maybe some of that is worth something,” Chris said.
“Nah. We gotta go upstairs and find the good shit.”
The hardwood groaned beneath their feet as the men headed for the staircase. When they reached the top of the stairs, Dax shined his light down to each end of the hall. Several doors lined both sides, most of them closed.
“You check down there,” Dax told Chris, pointing one way. “I’ll go the other way.”
Chris nodded, and the two men separated.
Dax walked down the hall, opening the first door on his right—a linen closet filled with blankets.
The open door he came to next was a bathroom. He aimed his flashlight into the room and onto the vanity. He focused the beam on the countertop where a child’s toothbrush lay face up. Water had pooled on the surface. Dax picked up the toothbrush and touched the bristles.
The toothbrush was wet.
“Shit.”
He heard a crash down the hall.
“Fuck!”
The house shook, and Dax immediately recognized the noises as a shotgun blast followed by the sickening thud of a body hitting the floor. He froze as the smell of gunpowder filled the air.
“If there’s anyone else here, you better get out of my house right now. Unless you wanna end up with a hole the size of a watermelon in your belly, like your friend here.”
Dax stood still against the wall, eyes wide. He grabbed the Glock on his waist. He heard footsteps coming down the hallway. Toward him.
Across the hall, a door opened.
“Daddy?” a little boy said.
“Hayden, get back in your room, now!”
Dax bolted out of the restroom, lowering his shoulder as he rushed across the hall. He barreled into the man, sending him into the wall. The shotgun fell to the floor as the man’s head cracked against the wall.
Dax ran.
He’d leaped over Chris’s body and to the stairs when a figure appeared in the doorway of the open bedroom.
Dax aimed his flashlight at the doorway. A woman had a gun pointed at his head. She cried out.
Instinct took over, and Dax had fired his weapon before he could think twice about it. He hit her square in the chest, knocking her back into the room and to the floor.
“Tina!”
Dax turned around to see the man on all fours, reaching for the shotgun.
Before he could grab it, Dax fired three times into the man’s back. The guy yelled out and then stopped moving.
Dax stood still.
The boy appeared in the hallway. Tears ran down the kid’s face. Dax shook his head and tried to say something, but his mind had gone blank. He rushed down the stairs, his heart threatening to beat through his chest.
As he reached the porch, four police cars pulled up in front of the house. Russell was gone.
“Put your hands up!”
Dax dropped the weapon, placing his hands behind his head. He fell to his knees and looked at the front door where the boy stood, the blue lights flashing on the kid’s face.
40
The sirens had stopped, and although fires still burned throughout New Orleans, the sounds of gunfire had quieted, as well. Compared to what he had seen in the past few weeks, the city looked empty. Dead.
Dax’s mind kept coming back to the men with the eyes. The ones he had been calling Screamers. Did they have something to do with the disappearance of people? He shook his head, trying not to think about that insanity. He focused on trudging through the streets instead, the water approaching waist-deep. He felt relieved in his decision to look for the boat alone. It would have been nearly impossible for the children to navigate the streets. And Chloe might not have been able to get around in it at all.
The clouds pressed down on the city, threatening rain but not delivering—yet. Even a moderate thunderstorm could compound the flooding and make escaping the city almost impossible.
You need to get that boat.
Neil’s relatives lived on the southern side of town in the Garden District. Dax hadn’t visited the neighborhood much, but he knew it well enough to be able to find the address along with Neil’s directions.
Floating bodies began to gather, the soft current of the flo
odwater pushing them into the doorways of buildings. Dax knew that the water had to be even more dangerous than Neil had said before now that there was no safe way of handling the dead.
And yet, Dax still expected to see more people. Thieves, thugs, looters—where had they gone? He had given up on the police or government, especially in the poor neighborhoods, but those looking to take advantage of the disaster had seemingly disappeared, as well. He remembered Katrina and knew that many citizens of New Orleans had to still be in their homes. Or dead—unable to leave and stranded without clean water or food.
Dax thought about his sister and her kids. Gabby was gone, but was it possible his niece and nephew had also died? What about the prison? Where had all the convicts gone? He had escaped with some despicable men—rapists and murderers. Yes, he was a murderer, too, but a victim of circumstance. He hadn’t intended on hurting anyone.
A couple of blocks away from his destination, Dax stopped and squinted at a nearby one-story house. A woman sat on top of the roof, the first person he’d seen in hours. The white woman wore a loose dress which hung over her gaunt figure. Her tangled hair was managing to stay out of her face enough for Dax to see pale cheeks and bags under her eyes. She had her knees up to her chin.
He paused, waiting to see if she would notice him. The woman gazed out at the flooded street, appearing to look at him. No, through him.
“Are you okay?”
Her body spasmed and she turned her head to face him. Dax walked beneath.
“Are you stuck up there? Do you need me to help you down?”
The woman mumbled something under her breath.
“What?”
“I can hear them.” The woman spoke louder now, but her eyes continued to focus on something in the distance.
“Hear what?”
“It’s worse in the house. I close my eyes, and it’s like the walls have me trapped. I can hear them. They’re so loud.”