by L. T. Ryan
Addison brought the pistol up, cupping her right hand with her left. She aimed at the back of Carla’s head. Without thinking beyond that moment, she pulled the trigger three times. Two bullets missed, but one hit.
And that was all she needed.
Chapter 14
Kathy eased down the familiar driveway, carefully avoiding the potholes. How ironic would it be to make it home from Cincinnati on a stolen motorcycle only to flip over the handlebars and break her neck? As she rounded the curve, her house came into view. She wanted to laugh, cry, scream and shout that she’d made it. She did none of those things, though.
She’d made it home, but the journey was not over.
She cut the engine and coasted toward the end of the driveway, applying the brakes well short of it. She figured Sean would have heard her approach and would be monitoring the landscape now. He might not recognize her perched atop the motorcycle. So she stepped off, removed her helmet, and walked the bike forward. The entire time her gaze flicked from window to window, to the front door, to the sides of the house. No one appeared.
Had they left?
If they had, they didn’t take Sean’s truck. The vehicle was parked in the driveway. Behind it was Barbara’s car. Kathy breathed a sigh of relief at the realization that they hadn’t left for South Carolina and had instead gone underground. Now she had to get his attention so that he’d let her inside. If anything, Sean was predictable and would have changed the codes the moment they were locked inside the bunker.
The wind kicked up and blew a sheet of dirt and dust in her direction. She felt her sinuses become clogged with debris. A moment later, she started coughing. Her lungs and throat burned with each phlegmy cough. After the fit had subsided, she spat the thick substance in her mouth on the ground. The dark color of the matter on the ground caught her eye. However, she dashed toward the house at the sight of an approaching single engine prop plane. Anyone could be up there, she figured. And their intentions might not be good.
She waited on the porch until the plane could no longer be heard. She left the safety of the porch when the engine faded and gave way to the sound of wind blowing through the grass.
She decided to verify the integrity of the house before entering. Kathy looked inside every window she passed while circling the property. The house appeared to be empty, and in order. Further proof that if Sean and Emma had remained, they were in the bunker, not the house. That told her that this outbreak, whatever it may be, was bad and on par with some of the things she’d heard her husband mumble in his sleep over the last eight years.
She made a note to herself to draw all the blinds before entering the bunker. If people did come by, she didn’t want them seeing that the house was abandoned. They’d loot it. She caught herself and stopped making additional preparations. It didn’t really matter.
Satisfied there was no one lying in wait for her, she returned to the front of the house. The door was locked. At least Sean had remembered that. She fished through her purse and retrieved her keys. Both the doorknob and deadbolt had been engaged. She unlocked them and eased the door open.
“Hello?” she called out.
The still house offered no reply. The air was considerably warmer inside. Either Sean had cut the air conditioning and the fan, or the power had gone out. While the bunker was set up on solar power, the house was not. Sean had refused to do so, fearing that it could alert someone to the fact that they were preparing for apocalyptic events. The levels his paranoia reached drove her crazy at times. Of course, if he’d had it his way, they’d have moved to Montana years ago. He had claimed that he could operate under the radar there. Under the radar was important to Sean, and everything had to be done accordingly so. She’d argued against anywhere outside of Virginia. She had her friends and family to consider. Despite Sean’s argument that none of them would matter should something happen, he eventually relented and agreed on Roanoke.
She closed the door behind her and engaged the locks. Next, she headed for Sean’s gun cabinet. It was empty. She found the correct key and opened it anyway. Kneeling in front of the cabinet, she ran her hand beneath the lowest shelf until she found the false bottom. She pulled the wooden plank up and reached inside the hole. Her hand brushed against the handle of the M9 concealed within. Sean had left it behind for her. She stuck the gun in her purse and returned the gun cabinet to how she’d found it.
Kathy knew that Sean would not allow her entrance to the bunker if she hadn’t cleared the house first, so that’s what she set off to do. She climbed the stairs, being careful to step only on the edges to prevent any unnecessary creaks and pops.
She found the upstairs to be as she expected. The beds were unmade both in her and Sean’s room, as well as Emma’s. Dirty towels were strewn about on the bathroom floor. The countertops, while not messy, were cluttered with things that could have been easily put away. Whatever, she thought. No point in worrying about that stuff now. But if they were living like that in the bunker, she would be sure to step in and put an end to it.
She smiled at the thought that, even at the end of the world, at least as how she knew it, she could still think like a mother and be the organized one in the house.
Kathy crept back downstairs and verified that all rooms were clear. She saved the kitchen for last, unable to refuse the urge to pour the milk down the drain. The smell as she lifted the cap off the bottle nearly made her throw up. She gagged for a few seconds, and then recapped it and stuffed it back into the fridge.
Forget it, she thought.
Finally, she made her way into the garage. Though the power was out, the tube thing that Sean had installed into the roof provided ample light for her to maneuver the workbench out of the way. She’d cover the opening in the ceiling before entering the tunnel.
She pulled the panel from the wall, revealing the security pad. It took a few moments for Kathy to recall the latest passcode. She punched it in and hoped to hear the familiar sound of the lock disengaging.
It didn’t happen.
She entered the code again, feeling a little out of breath.
Again, nothing happened. Nothing at all. She should have heard from her husband by this point. There was no way her arrival went unnoticed.
“Sean?” she said, looking into the camera. “What’s going on?”
There was no response.
Had they left after all? Or, worse, had someone come and taken them. Worse still, what if they’d been murdered and left to rot out in the fields?
Her heart pounded in her chest while her lungs felt restricted. Her skin grew damp with sweat. A cricket sang from somewhere in the garage.
She reached out and pressed the call button on the bottom of the number pad. She waited, but there was no response.
“Sean, where are you?” she said aloud.
After a silent minute, she began to cry. The cricket piped up again. A gust of wind battered the garage door, shaking it and sending a cloud of dust into the air. She felt the burn in her nose as she inhaled from the plume of debris. As happened outside, a coughing fit ensued. Kathy brought her forearm up to her face and coughed into the crook of her arm for a full minute. After it subsided, she swallowed hard, forcing the remnants down her throat.
And a few seconds later, the camera mounted above the keypad moved.
Chapter 15
Sean heard the door open behind him. He minimized the window with the security camera feed and swiveled around in his chair. Emma stood across the room, appearing shocked by his sudden movement.
“What are you doing?” he asked.
“Getting a drink,” she replied.
“Be quick about it.”
She hunched her shoulders up, tucked her chin and shuffled to the refrigerator. Inside was a five gallon water jug with a spout. She filled a glass and took a sip.
“Go back to your room,” Sean said.
“Why?”
“Just do it, Emma.” He didn’t mean to sound angry. Anxiety had b
uilt within him. His wife was home, in their garage, but until he was certain that Kathy was okay, he couldn’t let Emma see her mother.
“Fine,” Emma said, hurrying back to her room. She slammed the door shut. A moment later the lock clicked.
He exhaled, keeping his hand tight on the mouse. He inched the cursor toward the toolbar and clicked on an icon to restore the security feed. The image on the screen was of Kathy’s mid-section. She’d stood up. For what, he didn’t know. He had several initial concerns. The first was that she had been followed home. They’d discussed a similar scenario in which he had her clear the house, room by room. This not only allowed her to verify that no one was in the house, it also gave anyone on the outside time to penetrate the home. If this had happened, and she had gone through each room, then whoever followed her inside might now have entered through the garage.
Sean brought up another window, one dissected into eight smaller blocks, each with its own camera feed. Three of them were inside the home covering the kitchen, main downstairs area, and main upstairs area. The rest of the cameras were outside, displaying the front, back, sides, the driveway and the road in front of their home. He maximized each window and studied them for movement. Aside from a squirrel on the front porch, he saw nothing.
The image in front of the security keypad blurred. After a moment, Kathy’s face appeared. The camera adjusted focus, but never settled on a clear picture. Sean toggled the sound while slipping a pair of earphones over his head. He took three deep breaths and then slid the microphone out of its holder.
“Kathy,” he said.
She looked left, then right, finally settling in on the small camera in front of her. “Sean,” she said as tears flowed down her cheeks.
“What happened to Charleston?” he asked.
“They shut down all flights when I got to Cincinnati.”
“How’d you get here?” He expected her to tell him that she had hitched a ride, or had found a bus line still running. When she recounted her journey by stolen motorcycle, he didn’t know whether to be upset that she put herself into that kind of danger, or impressed that she had done so.
“What’s the code?” she asked.
Sean bit his bottom lip, looked away and said nothing.
“Sean? Baby? What’s the code?”
He looked at the screen, which had become slightly blurry due to the tearing in his eyes. “I need you to go take your temperature.”
“What?”
“You were coughing a few minutes ago, severely, Kathy. I’ve got Emma and Barbara in here. I can’t take any…”
She leaned forward, as if hanging on his final words. “Can’t take any what?”
He didn’t want to upset her if he didn’t have to. As of that moment, he didn’t know for sure if she was sick or not. He said, “Go inside and take your temperature. You can grab the thermometer and take it out there, in front of the camera.”
She nodded, rose and disappeared. He switched to the kitchen feed and watched as she opened the cabinet, stood on the tips of her toes and reached up. A few pill bottles fell onto the counter. She seemed to ignore them. After a few moments, she lowered her heels and her arms. As she walked into the garage, he clicked on the appropriate feed and waited. The door clicked shut in the background. He heard her engage the deadbolt and slide the security chain. Her torso appeared, lowered, and her face took up the majority of the screen. She eased back onto her heels. As she settled in, she smiled at him.
He forced himself to smile back. “Take your temperature.”
She inserted the thermometer into her mouth. Her eyes rolled up, and he could tell she was bored. It benefited him though. With Kathy sitting still, Sean was able to fine tune the camera and get a clear look at her face. Red lines streaked away from her eyes, mouth, and down her neck. Her nostrils appeared slightly swollen. Dark circles hung below her eyes. That could have been a result of her journey, though, as could her disheveled hair.
“Emma’s doing well,” he said, feeling the need to make small talk. “She was pretty scared, but once I showed her where everything is down here and gave her a key to the gun cabinet—”
Kathy’s eyes widened and her nostrils flared.
“—she felt safer. And don’t worry. I see that look on your face. She’s not walking around armed. It’s only in the event that something happens. And you know that nothing is going to happen while we’re inside here. Nobody can get in.”
Kathy’s anger seemed to fade. She nodded and tried to smile around the thermometer. It bobbed up and down a couple times.
She began coughing, causing her face to elongate as she forced her mouth to remain closed.
“Go ahead and take it out,” he said, trying to avoid expressing his concern.
“One-oh-two-point-five,” she said, shaking the thermometer and forcing a smile.
The attempt did not fool Sean. He’d seen that look on her face a hundred times when she’d tried to appear brave for him during his ordeal.
“How long have you been coughing?” he asked.
She shrugged and looked away. “Started when I got here, I guess. Bunch of dirt and dust got in my mouth and up my nose. Same thing happened in here after I moved things around. I guess a bit was left in there, or must have been blown around a few moments ago. Maybe the fan kicked on?”
Sean shook his head. “Fan’s off, Kathy.” He eased back in his chair, brought his hands to his face, and rubbed his eyes and temples with his palms.
Could this really be happening? Did he have to exile his wife?
“Sean? The code?”
Sean’s fingertips traced his scalp until they met behind his head, where they interlaced and locked. He stared blankly at her image on the screen.
“I’d really like to sleep in a bed that I picked out,” she said with a nervous laugh.
“You might be sick.”
She tucked her bottom lip between her teeth. Her eyes crinkled as they glistened. Tears began to fall. She sniffled and let out a soft sob.
“Go to the kitchen. Take something for your fever. If the water’s not running, there’s plenty stored in jugs in the closet.”
She leaned in toward the camera. Her image on the screen turned blurry. “I know you have medicine down there. You could give me the code and let me come down. I can wait in the tunnel, Sean. Seal me in there if you want, but don’t make me stay in this house alone.”
His chest and stomach clenched tight. The lines between physical and emotional pain blended together. Her proposed solution could work. He could leave her in the hallway. She could die there, and at least she’d be close to them.
But if she turned, well, he knew that wouldn’t work. After witnessing what those things did in that facility in Nigeria, he wanted no part of them being that close to the bunker.
Sean leaned forward and brought his hands to the keyboard. A swift keystroke silenced the feed. Another turned his camera off, effectively shutting himself off from Kathy.
Her silent image hovered in front of the camera for a minute before rising and disappearing from view. He switched feeds and watched as she walked into the kitchen, heading for the same cabinet as before. She pulled down a bottle, filled a glass of water and took a handful of pills.
She exited the kitchen into the main downstairs area. She didn’t linger there long. He watched her climb the stairs from behind. Halfway up, he switched to a new feed and saw her climb the remaining steps from the front. A pistol dangled from her hand. She’d thought to search the gun cabinet when she entered the home.
As she walked past the camera in the hallway, Kathy looked up at it. Her face was expressionless. She opened the door to their room and disappeared from sight.
He figured she was taking a nap in order to allow the medicine enough time to work. Not that it mattered. It wasn’t as if she had come down with the flu. Kathy had been around a hundred, hell, thousands of people over the last two days. At the very least fifty percent of them carried the virus,
and she had contracted it. He was sure of that. As he sat there and let his mind wander, he found himself hoping that she’d turn the gun on herself and spare him the pain of watching her die on camera.
Chapter 16
Cold rain gathered in the middle of the street and formed shimmering puddles. Addison stepped through, careful not to splash any on her pants. The boots her father had sent her kept her feet warm and dry. She’d never thanked him, and now she doubted she’d ever be able to. Nevertheless, they’d been lifesavers.
After her ordeal with Carla, she had run from her apartment to the parking lot, leaving everything but the messenger bag and its contents behind. She had planned on taking her roommate’s car. The woman had no more need for it, after all. However, looters and rioters had come across the vehicle and slashed the tires, broke the windows, and ripped off the hood. Every car in the lot looked damaged beyond simple repair.
The acts of vandalism threw a wrench into her plans. Originally, she had planned to drive to Charlottesville where her grandparents had a four hundred acre farm north of the city. While nothing was guaranteed, she figured they might have been able to avoid and ride out the virus, being so far away from others. She would be happy to sleep in the barn with the horses, so long as she could get there. The chances of that happening looked slim now.
She contemplated going back to the apartment and perhaps waiting out the next few days there. There wasn’t much inside, save for Carla’s corpse, but she could monitor the other apartments from within hers and look for supplies early in the morning when things were normally be quiet.
She laughed at the word, “Normal.” Nothing would be normal ever again.
Casting a glance over her shoulder, she surveyed the scene leading back to her complex. The mess of vandalism encouraged her to keep pushing forward.