They’re empty. Summer cabins, he thought, There’d be dogs barking. Or cars in the driveway. Henry slunk by the driveway, looking down into the wide front yard. The house was dark, the garage doors closed. The snow still lay thick in the drive, but as he glanced at it, his eye caught on a spattering of dark hollows where the drive met the road. He froze and the palette slid into the back of his calves, but he barely noticed. He stared at the footprints and tried hard to think if they’d been there yesterday. Were they from the woman who’d caused the snowmobile accident? Were they Phil’s? Had he tried the other houses before the lodge? Are they new? Come on Henry, think! You can remember the names and credit scores of hundreds of clients on command, surely you can remember if you saw footprints here yesterday.
But he couldn’t. He didn’t know if it was the infection or if he’d been daydreaming when he passed the cabin the day before. Even though the aching prickle in his skin convinced him that his life depended on remembering, Henry simply couldn’t. He looked as far as he could down the road. Then he dropped the rope of the palette and waded toward the shadowy voids where someone had passed by. He squinted against the glare of the sun on the snow. The pattern was erratic. Weaving over the drive and yard, into the woods and back out. Henry stopped near the closest footprint. They didn’t make it all the way to the house and Henry thought that was a good sign. He looked down at the outline and almost laughed out loud. The moose must have been a large one, it’s footprint almost the size of Henry’s and much deeper, but the sharp double leafed shape left no room for doubt. Henry felt his heart slow to a quick trot as he released a breath he’d forgotten he was holding. He brushed sweat from his face with a glove and tried to loosen his cramping arms and shoulders. He was getting too worked up. If he didn’t relax, he’d burn himself out before reaching the lodge. He slogged back to the palette and grabbed the rope. He tried to calm down, tried to appreciate the warmth of the sun on his face and the sudden cool, quiet patches of shade under the still trees. But the palette drew more and more snow under it and it packed into the hollows and slats, hardening into ice. It made a sound like scraping styrofoam and Henry began to feel a deep ache in his back and hands. He moved more and more slowly, finding himself stumbling more often in the deep snow. He tried walking in his own footsteps for a while, but he found it harder than just slogging through the unbroken part of the road. It took almost an hour to reach the next cabin, already afternoon, and Henry became afraid that he would be caught on the road after dark. He tried to pick up his pace, knowing he was only halfway back. He began to think resentfully of Dave and then Elizabeth sitting warm and dry and comfortable in the lodge. He would have been back by now if Dave had just come with him. But he was too chickenshit. Elizabeth wasn’t much better, but for a while he forgave her, since she would have to watch Phil. Why am I the one doing this? He wondered, This stuff isn’t even going to help me. I’m sick. I’ll be crazy in a few days. They’ll probably toss me out to freeze to death. Henry felt a lump growing in his throat at the thought, but then his anger burned it away. Stop thinking that. I’ll get through this. It’s just a flu. But the doubt wouldn’t go away and his annoyance grew with it. You’re sick Henry. Just a day or two away from the lady in the city maybe. You’ll muckle on to the first person you see tomorrow. You’re sick. And getting sicker by being out here. It’s them that’s making you sicker faster Henry. It’s Dave and Elizabeth. If you’d stayed away from them, maybe you’d be okay. But now, now you’re going to freeze or Dave’s going to bash you in the head. Henry shook his head and pulled at his hair. He took a deep breath and tried to concentrate on his feet and the crunch of the snow. Or else you’re going to eat him. You’re going to eat Dave all up. And then . . . The thought stung him suddenly and he sat down in the snow and sobbed before it could get any farther. It made him feel even weaker to cry, but there was no one around, and so he did for a minute, low and shaking. He thought for a minute about not going back, about wandering into one of the vacant cabins behind him and locking himself away. Let Dave come out and find the sled himself. It would be safer that way. For everyone.
But then there was the kid. What would Marnie do without food until her father or mother gained courage enough to come looking? And Phil. Henry didn’t know him, had no idea if he were rotten or decent, but no one should die from a simple infection that few tubes of ointment could knock out.
Henry’s feet continued toward the lodge even as his mind debated. He pulled a glove off and began absent mindedly biting his nails. Maybe he could return the supplies and then leave again after a night’s rest. Did he have another day in him? And then what? Break into one of the cabins and freeze to death inside instead of out here? Who would feed him after he became delirious? And what if there were worse parts of the infection later on?
He hissed as a sharp pain sliced into his thumb. He looked down at his hand and was surprised to see he had bitten all of his nails to the quick. The thumb nail was bitten even deeper and a round drop of blood trembled up from the skin. He pulled his glove back on and decided to get back to the lodge before he worried about what would come next.
Ten
Henry was chilled and his wet pants were heavy and clinging below the knees as he struggled the last few hundred feet up to the lodge’s driveway. The trees had eaten the sun, their dark crowns made a great jaw that sank into the sky. He heard the birds at last, calling to each other as they began to roost. He stumbled into the driveway and the lodge leaked golden lantern light from its windows. Everything around it looked darker and colder to Henry. He felt part of the dark, a shadow, a footprint, a memory left behind the living man. He wondered if he should just push the palette ahead of him down the drive and then turn back to one of the empty summer cabins behind him. But then a little shadow jumped up from the front steps and waved to him.
“Henry? Is that you?” asked Marnie.
“It’s me. What are you doing out here? Aren’t you cold?”
“Not as cold as you I bet,” said Marnie jumping down the steps and into the snow between them. Henry kept the palette behind him and hoped it was dark enough that Marnie wouldn’t see the stocking. “I was waiting for you,” continued Marnie, “I thought it might be scary in the dark. Is it far to the store?”
Henry smiled. “Not so far in the car. But it sure felt far walking there.”
“What did you bring?”
“Nope, no peeking.”
“Aw, c’mon Henry, it’s almost Christmas.”
“Almost. But not quite. What’s today?”
“Christmas Eve.”
Henry felt dizzy. He couldn’t make the days add up to Christmas Eve, no matter how he tried. “Are you sure about that?”
Marnie laughed. “I’m sure. Mom showed me on her watch.”
“Well what are you doing up then? You need to get to bed so you don’t miss Santa!” He tried to sound excited, but his confusion made him uneasy.
“It’s not even dinner time. We were waiting for you.”
“Okay, run and get your dad and mom, so they can help me unload all this.”
Marnie ran back up the stairs and into the house, the door banging shut behind her. Henry swayed and leaned against the boxes on the palette to steady himself. He tried to convince himself that he was only exhausted from the trip, that the sudden dizzy spell, the confusion over a simple thing like the date, it would all disappear after a good rest. Dave and Elizabeth came out of the house carrying a gas lantern. Henry was relieved to see that Marnie stayed inside this time. I’d better tell them now, he thought.
“I’m glad you’re back,” said Elizabeth.
“How was town? Did you hear any news?” asked Dave. He started picking through the boxes.
“No,” said Henry, “There’s no more news.”
Dave looked up. “The power’s out down there too?”
Henry shook his head.
“What do you mean there’s no more news then?”
“The cable and
radio have been out for a few days. There are infected people in town too, but the store owner is still well. His name’s Wyatt. I tried to persuade him to come back with me, but he wants to wait a little longer to see if people will get better or if someone else needs him. I told him to come here if things get too bad.”
“What about the emergency broadcast thing?” asked Elizabeth, “There must be someone figuring out where people should go. Some kind of temporary shelter? Aren’t there procedures in place for something like this?”
Henry shrugged. “Maybe, but I don’t think anyone is organizing anything. At least not out here.”
Dave pushed his glasses up and squinted at Henry. “Maybe we should have stayed in the city. The police would have set something up by now. Or the national guard, or someone. There’s always someone in charge of this kind of thing.”
Henry slumped down on the edge of the palette. He pulled his gloves off and rubbed his hands together. He didn’t look up at Dave. “I don’t think so. Not this time. The sheriff is shooting sick people in town and even though the power is still on, there’s no news. Not even anchors filling time. Just— nothing. Static.”
“How is that possible?” asked Elizabeth, hugging herself.
“Did you say the sheriff was shooting people?” said Dave.
Henry nodded without looking at them. “You shouldn’t have to go to town for a while though. I got enough to last you three for a while, if you are careful. Wyatt will bring more if he comes.”
“What do you mean, ‘you three’? There are five of us now. I mean, I assume we aren’t going to throw Phil out in the snow,” said Elizabeth. Her breath was a halo of gold in the light from the lodge’s window. Henry thought of the bruises around the dead woman’s neck.
“I’m sorry I brought Phil inside. I don’t know anything about him. Maybe you should send him to one of the other cabins. They’re empty, he could hole up in one of them easily enough.”
Elizabeth shook her head. “He’s not doing well. There’s no way he can leave, at least for a few days. And if we’re really on our own, maybe the more of us that are together, the better.” Elizabeth picked up the lumpy red stocking with a smile. “Is this for Marnie? Thank you Henry.” She kissed his cheek and her breath was warm over his cold skin. Henry tried not to shudder as he thought of how many germs may just have transferred between them. It was too late now. They were all either infected or immune. No use worrying over it any more. Henry stood up and handed Dave the palette’s guide rope. He shoved his bare hands into the pockets of his jeans.
“I can take Phil with me if you want to empty the palette. We can put him on it and bundle him up.”
Dave squinted in the near dark. “What are you talking about?”
“I think he killed an infected woman on his way here. At least, I hope she was infected.”
Dave exchanged a worried glance with Elizabeth. “We’ll figure out the Phil thing when he’s healthy enough to be a threat. But why would you take him with you? Where are you going?”
“I’ve got it. I’m infected.” He braced himself as Dave backed up a few steps. Elizabeth just shook her head.
“No, Henry. You can’t be sick, there’s nothing wrong with you,” she said.
“There is. I’ve tried not to feel it, but I know.”
“You’re just wiped out,” said Dave with a nervous chuckle. “You just hiked six miles dragging a few hundred pounds behind you. Anyone would be tired. Just get some rest, you’ll feel fine tomorrow.”
But Henry shook his head. “No, this is more than that. It’s been coming for days. Weeks maybe. This trip just highlighted it. It should have taken less than a day. I can’t keep ideas in my head, they just seem to slip away, like I’m on the edge of sleep all the time. I can’t walk straight, I’ve been trying all day. You can look in the morning. The trail just zig zags all over, even though I kept trying to go straight. I get angry at nothing and I have to calm myself down. You know me Dave, I don’t lose my temper. But I keep getting closer to it.”
“You’re just nervous, not getting enough sleep—” said Elizabeth, patting his arm.
“No, I have to go. It’s not safe for you and Marnie. I’m just going to go down to another cabin, just a mile away. Wait until I beat this flu and then I’m sure things will get back to normal. I think the owners are gone for the winter, they’ll understand.”
Elizabeth fell back beside her husband and clasped his hand. Dave looked at her and then at Henry. He pushed his glasses up again. “We can’t let you do that Henry. You can’t leave while you’re sick.”
“I have to. Don’t you understand? In a few days, maybe less, I’ll be one of those— those things. I’ll attack anything. You, Elizabeth, Marnie— I have to lock myself away so I can’t hurt anyone. And so no one will have to shoot me, either.”
“Maybe you won’t get as sick as others. Maybe you just have a mild case,” said Elizabeth.
“Do you want to take that chance? You want to risk your daughter?”
Elizabeth glanced back at the lodge’s bright windows. She was little more than a shadow in front of them now. And Dave was wholly lost in darkness except where the light sparked on the lenses of his glasses.
“We’ll figure it out. Maybe we can put you in the basement until you get better,” said Dave.
“I don’t know if I will get better. Has anyone recovered yet? Besides, there is no basement here, remember? It’s a summer house.”
“Give me tonight to figure it out. I’ll find a way. If you are alone you might— you might hurt yourself. People were doing that on the news.”
“If I’m not alone, I will hurt you.”
“Henry, we’ve been friends for over fifteen years. Since we were kids. I can’t let you just walk out into the snow to freeze. Just give me tonight to think of something.”
“What if that’s too long?”
“An hour then. Just an hour. Go in the house, get warm, have something to eat,” Dave pleaded, “I’ll figure it out. And if I don’t, I won’t stop you. Just an hour Henry.”
Henry nodded. “Okay, an hour.”
Eleven
Henry sank into a chair near the stove. Everything ached. He watched Elizabeth bringing in boxes of supplies and Dave running through the house in an unusual fit of activity, but he didn’t offer to help. He’d already expended more energy than he could spare. The stove pulsed with warmth against his side and he could smell something cooking. Marnie sat at the table coloring in the lantern light. Henry couldn’t seem to concentrate on anything. The room puddled and merged into a dull sense of comfort. He felt himself sliding into a doze, but fought against it. Something kept telling him not to fall asleep. If he fell asleep would he wake up the same man?
Henry forced himself upright in the chair and looked at the window, trying to see past his reflection and out to the dark road. His throat was swollen with fear and sorrow. Was this what it was like to realize he was dying?
“Henry,” said Marnie, glancing over at him.
“Hmm?” he turned slowly from the window.
“Don’t be sad Henry. I’ll take care of you. You’ll be better soon.”
Henry shook his head and smiled. “It’s not like a cold, Marnie. You need to stay away when I get sick. It will be like the people in the city– like the television. So I need to go away. Just until I’m not sick anymore. Do you understand?”
Her little shadow shook its head and Henry couldn’t tell for a moment, whether he’d been talking to her or the shadow. “No Henry. Don’t go. We’ll take care of you. We won’t get close, but we can still take care of you.”
Henry felt dizzy as his sight slid in and out of focus. He shut his eyes. “It’s too dangerous Marnie. You’ll be safe here with your mom and dad. I’ll just be down the road a little.”
He felt her little girl breaths hit his cheek as she came to stand next to him. She smelled like the light chemical strawberry of plastic toys. He was alarmed as a memory of his you
nger sister struck him. “Don’t leave,” Marnie whispered, thick in his ear, “I’m scared of the other man. Don’t go Henry, please. And tomorrow’s Christmas. Don’t you want to be here?”
His brain kept lingering on Phil and the dead woman in the road. He opened his eyes and looked at the small girl beside him. “Marnie, you stay away from Phil. Tell your dad to make him leave when he is well enough. Don’t go near him, you understand?” he was yelling without meaning to.
She nodded and started to cry. Elizabeth wandered into the kitchen to check on dinner. “What’s wrong Marnie?” she asked.
The girl wiped her eyes with a sleeve. “Don’t let Henry leave,” she said.
Elizabeth glanced sharply at Henry, but he was too unfocused to notice. “Daddy’s trying to figure something out. But Henry’s sick, honey. You don’t want to get sick too, do you?”
The girl looked up in shock and backed a few paces from Henry. He knew no one would get sick if they hadn’t already, but he thought it might be better if the girl stayed scared of him, so he said nothing. “But he went to town. To take care of us. We have to take care of him,” said Marnie.
“We’re going to try,” said Elizabeth with a tight smile, “Come on now, go wash your hands, it’s almost dinner time.”
Henry stood up as Marnie ran to the bathroom. He didn’t trust himself not to fall asleep and he didn’t want to have another difficult conversation with Elizabeth. He walked into the living room looking for Dave. Instead he found Phil stretched on the couch in a deep sleep. Henry thought about waking him, asking him about the frozen woman and the marks around her neck. He thought about warning him not to touch the girl or trying to take advantage of Dave or Elizabeth. But a profound sadness came over him as Henry realized there would be nothing he could do if Phil tried something. Even now, Henry was clumsy and slow. He was no match for anyone. He doubted he could even put together a good bluff. So he turned away from Phil and saw a light in the backyard through the window. He headed outside to find Dave.
The Cured Page 6