“Stupid thing.” I wanted to throw the jar against the wall like I had with the picture, but set it back down. The jar wobbled, and I reached out to steady it. I’d set the container on the edge of the counter and it almost lost its balance and fell.
Balance. The word rang through my head. The Rasper had said balanced mind. What did he mean? Did he mean metaphorically or literally? Balanced mind. Like using both sides equally? Like someone who could use both their right and left hands? I had read once that left-handed people used both sides of their brains more than righties. Was that it? Left-handedness? I had no idea.
I tried to reach Adam and Megan again on the radio. Still no answer. I clicked it off and set it next to the Bug. My mind spun with a cyclone of worries and my pulse accelerated with each minute. I hoped they were together, alive and safe. I’d promised Megan she wouldn’t be alone.
When my eyes grew heavy, I did my best to get comfy. I set my gun on the counter right behind my head and closed my eyes.
I woke to darkness and gagged on the overwhelming fish stink. It was like being at the beach times a thousand.
Something moved outside the store. I swiped the gun and pointed at the window. It was too dark to see what was out there. Raspers? Bugs? Both? Adam and Megan? No, it wouldn’t be them. They knew better than to prowl around at night.
That meant it was bad news and I wasn’t dressed for a fight. More like a biker chick slumber party. Crap. I’d been an idiot to change. Shoulda left the wet stuff on. I yanked my boots off the counter and slipped my feet into the dampness.
I focused on the movement. Tried to figure out how many there were. I couldn’t turn on the flashlight. If they didn’t know I was here, I wouldn’t put myself in the spotlight.
Splash. Splash. Splash.
I lowered my feet to the floor and slipped through the water to the windows. I leaned against the damp glass and tried to see what was outside lurking, stalking, hunting. I couldn’t shake the picture of the once-scientist-turned-Rasper-now-dead-guy’s face. The Bug hadn’t made any noise. Maybe it wasn’t Raspers. Then again, the Bug might be dead.
A shadow moved in front of the window. My breath caught. What was it? Something splashed in the water. What the hell? A growl sliced through the quiet. An animal? Had to be.
With precise and hopefully noiseless steps, I went back to the bench. I kept my boots on and pulled my legs up, huddling under the curtain with my head on my knees, gun in my hand. Ready to fire.
Splash. Rip. Crunch.
I tightened my grip on the Glock. Then I figured it out. The fish. Animals had come to eat the dead fish. The band of fear belted around my chest loosened. I was safe, at least until the fish ran out.
I stayed on the bench and waited. For the animals to leave, for Raspers to come, for daylight.
Eventually, the sun began its climb up the morning sky. It was time. I ran my hands through my hair and touched the cut on my forehead. No blood. No scab. Completely healed. Whoa. I still felt a little wonky, but my muscles didn’t hurt anymore. I was healing faster than I should. Like Adam’s bullet wound.
I tossed the curtain aside and grabbed my underwear from the display shelf. Thank goodness, it was dry. I got dressed and repacked my stuff in the still slightly damp backpack, then shook the lifeless Bug once more before shoving it in the bag. How had the water killed it? The Bugs had been crawling out of the river by the thousands when Adam had saved my ass with the dirt bike. Adam. I pictured his hair and how it brushed the tops of his shoulders. I sighed. I needed to get it together. I would find him—and Megan. I strapped on my gun, downed a bottle of water, stuck my bag on my shoulder, and turned on the radio.
“Adam? Megan?”
Nothing.
My heart said to keep the radio on in case they responded. My brain argued to shut it off to save the batteries since the store didn’t have the type the radio needed. I groaned, shut it off, and clipped it on my belt. I turned back to the window, didn’t see anything. Getting closer meant any remaining animals might see me. I needed to go higher. I made my way to the back of the store, found the roof access ladder, and climbed.
Once on the roof, I looked around. The sun glistened off the blood-filled water. Fish carcasses were everywhere—in the water, on the dry spots. It looked like a scene from a movie showing the end of days prophecies from the Book of Revelations. Birds swooped in and flew away with dead fish pieces in their beaks. A lone animal, maybe a fox, feasted on the edge of the water. I searched the landscape for other animals, but didn’t spot any.
I tried to reach Adam and Megan on the radio. Again, silence answered me.
I gripped the Glock harder than I needed to. I could fire a shot. If I fired the gun, Adam and Megan might hear me. Then again, if I fired the gun, everything else would too. Animals. Bugs. Raspers. I rolled my bottom lip between my teeth as I weighed my options.
Oh, hell. I pointed the gun in front of me. Aimed high. Pulled the trigger.
The bang scared the fox and the birds as it echoed off the nearby buildings. I clicked the radio. “Can you hear me?”
Nothing.
“Adam. Megan. Are you out there?”
Still nothing. I slumped to the rooftop and buried my head in my knees. I felt like giving up.
The radio squealed and then, “Val?”
I jumped. My heart beat double time. “Adam?”
“Thank God.”
“Is Megan okay?”
“She hit her head, but she’s doing good.”
“Where are you?”
“In a house. Where are you?”
“On the roof of the home improvement store. Surrounded by water and dead fish.”
“According to the sun, we’re east of where the store was. We’re on Poplar Street. Number 413. It was the first water free place. I’d guess it’s about a mile away. I can come get you.”
“No, stay there. I’ll find you. I have to get away from the water.”
He was alive. The coil squeezing my heart loosened an inch. I got off the roof, exited the store, and ran, leaving the freezing river behind. The water that covered the pavement reminded me of how it used to look after a hard rain. I kept going, passing streets all named after trees.
Sycamore. Pine. Oak. Poplar.
I jogged down the suburban street that was oddly lacking in trees. When I came to 413, I raced to the door, but pulled up short. It might not have been Adam on the radio. The Raspers knew my name. It had sounded like him though. I drew the Glock, just in case, and knocked.
The curtain covering the side window shifted, then Adam opened the door. His skin was the same. No yellow. “Val!”
All the air rushed from my lungs. “Thank God. You’re okay.”
“I thought you were…” Adam stepped closer to me and held his arms out.
I went to him, heart rate skyrocketing. The heat from his skin penetrated my still-cold senses. He gave me a long hug. I glanced up at him. He leaned down. Closer and closer. My lips parted. He kissed the tip of my nose, then pulled back, and let go. My stomach tightened. I’d thought…wrong. I glanced away. “Where’s Megan?”
“She’s asleep upstairs. What happened? Where did you go? We searched until dark for you.”
I put my gun away. Adam walked into the family room and sank onto one of the beige microfiber couches.
I set down my bag, sat on the other couch, and took in the room’s shades of brown, beige, and white. A very plain room that reminded me of my house.
I rubbed my hands across my face and pushed back a few wayward strands of hair. “The water knocked me down and I almost drowned. And then I woke up sprawled across the roof of a McDonalds.” I took a breath. “I called for you guys. I found the truck. Everything was gone. I searched until it got dark then I hid in the store. There were dead fish everywhere and animals came in the night…”
I looked at the wall.
“The water beat me down too,” Adam said. “I was able to hang onto the truck and was prope
lled with it. After the truck smacked into a building, I struggled to find Megan. She was hysterical and bleeding. I think I might have banged my head too, because I was so disoriented. I didn’t know what direction we had come from. We stumbled out of the water and kept going until we found this house.” He licked his lips. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?”
“For not trying harder to find you. It made me sick not knowing where you were.”
He got up and sat next to me. The heat in my chest expanded as Adam laid his hand on top of mine and rubbed small circles over my knuckles. “I couldn’t sleep at all last night. I was so worried something bad had happened to you.” He leaned forward again. I licked my lips, then held my breath.
“Val!” Megan ran into the room, skidding to a stop when she noticed how close Adam and I were.
I jumped up. She wrapped her arms around me, pulled me back down to the couch. Her hands hit my bag. “Oh.”
Both Adam and Megan stared at the bag. “Yeah, it’s still in there.” I answered their unspoken question. “But, it hasn’t moved. I think it might be dead.”
21
We raided the place, came away with a few supplies, and walked from house to house searching for a car with keys. We had to bust the windows in some homes to get in, while the glass was already broken in others, and a few were unlocked. We found zero car and key matches. Why didn’t anyone keep their keys on a peg by the door instead of in their purse or pockets? Would have made my life a lot simpler.
The next house we came upon stood by itself and was remarkably intact.
“What about that place? Maybe they have a car. We’ll never get to Site R without a working vehicle.” Adam walked up the driveway.
A sense of…something I couldn’t quite identify came over me. I tried to shake it off. “I don’t know.”
“Why?”
My head felt heavy and my legs a little weak. “I can’t explain it. Let’s skip this one.”
As I turned to leave, I noticed a fine white powder scattered along the cement walkway to the front door. “Hey, hold on. What’s this stuff?”
I bent down and scooped up a few of the white granules. I lifted them up and a familiar scent, while faint, wrinkled my nose. I dropped the powder and blew the excess off my palms.
“What is it? It’s everywhere around the house.” Megan pointed to a trail of the white substance.
“Chlorine.”
“Again? What’s with that?” Adam sniffed his own handful.
“It was—” My backpack shifted. I pushed it back up, but it moved again. What the—? I set the bag on the ground and pulled out the jar.
The Bug was awake and alive. It smacked into the sides of the container.
“What the hell is it doing?” Adam dropped the chlorine and held out his hands.
I handed him the Bug.
When he clutched the plastic container, the Bug went berserk. It rubbed its legs together creating a nerve-pinching metallic squeal. It then alternated between launching itself off the sides to more teeth-grinding sounds. “What the hell is wrong with it? I thought you said it was dead?”
“Obviously, I was wrong.” I drew my gun and scanned the area for Raspers. They must be close.
“It’s the chlorine.” Megan stepped closer.
“What?”
“Chlorine. I’m guessing the Bugs don’t like chlorine. Let’s see.” She picked up a bit of the chemical and dropped a few tiny granules into the jar.
The Bug released a sound so deafening, I was sure my eardrums burst. The Bug slammed itself against the jar hard enough Adam lost his grip. The container hit the ground, bounced once, then rolled across the driveway, coming to a stop at the grass. The Bug squealed even louder.
“Make it stop.” Adam clasped his hands over his ears.
I swore I could feel blood trickling out of mine, but when I touched them, my hands came away clean. Megan seemed much less affected than Adam or I. I shoved my gun back in its holster, raced to the jar, and picked it up.
More pain and pressure built in my ears. I had to get the chlorine out. I flipped the container over and the Bug fell to the top. I shook the jar until the granules came out and landed on my boot. The wailing of the Bug stopped. I exhaled and sat on the grass, slowly turning the jar upright. Pain snaked from my eardrums to the top of my head.
“Told you.” Megan said, hands on her hips.
“Are my ears bleeding?” Adam leaned toward her.
“I don’t see anything.”
“I feel the same way.” I tugged on my earlobes. Opened and closed my jaw. Tried to stop the pain.
“Must be part of your crazy ass connection, because my ears are fine.” Megan’s voice sounded smug.
The pressure in my head released and my ears popped. The pain disappeared. Freaky shit. I didn’t want to analyze the similarities in my reaction and the Bug’s.
“I say we pour all the chlorine we can find in the damn Bug’s jar.” Megan bent down to scoop some.
Adam grabbed her wrist. “Meg, no. As good as that would make you feel, we can’t.”
“And why the hell not? They killed my family. All of our families! Why are you protecting it?” She yanked her arm out of his grip. “Are you protecting it because you’re both really Raspers, waiting to join their army?”
“Knock that crap off.” Adam said in a low voice that made the hairs on my arms stand up. “We already told you we aren’t.”
“Fine.” Megan crossed her arms and kicked the ground with her sneaker.
I tucked the jar back in my bag. “Why chlorine?”
Megan shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care. Let’s just keep going.”
But I cared. It might be our only major weapon.
After a few miles, Adam stopped. “I’ve been thinking—”
“About what?”
“That maybe we should go back.”
Megan rolled her lips into her mouth as if she was trying to keep herself from talking.
“What do you mean?” My chest tightened and I clutched the lone good strap of my bag.
“Who knows how long the houses go on for and if there are any cars with keys. I think maybe we should go back to where the water is and find one there. There are more stores for supplies and there’s probably a better chance of finding a vehicle. We need to get to Site R.” Adam ran his hand through his hair, flipping it out of his eyes.
“We’ve walked for miles in this direction. There might be a shopping center around the next corner. Then again, maybe there won’t. If we turn back now, it will be dark before we get there.” I took out one of my last two bottles of water, drank a third, and passed it around.
“Which is why we need to decide…” Adam smacked the empty plastic bottle off his thigh. “What should we do?”
“Go back to sleep and hopefully wake up from this horrible nightmare I’m having?” Megan said.
Oh, how I wished this was a nightmare. I wished the throbbing pain that had taken up residence in my head was a nightmare. Then I could wake up to my mom making me pancakes on Saturday morning. Finish my plans to go job hunting to pay for car insurance. Keep eating pizza with Sofie at Romeo’s. I blinked a few times in hope, but nothing changed. I was still stuck in the middle of broken down suburbia with a metal Bug trapped in a jar in my backpack. Super.
“Realistic ideas?”
“The known or unknown.” I held my hands out, palms up, as if I was weighing the decision. “As much as this kills me and my feet, I think we should go back.”
“No.” Megan shouted. “We’ve spent too much damn time going back. Forward. We need to keep moving forward.”
“Okay, forward then.”
And the walking and checking of cars continued. When the sun started shifting lower in the sky, we were no closer to a car with keys than we had been before. Going forward might not have been our best decision.
“Holy—”
“Watch out.” Megan’s arm clotheslined me across th
e stomach.
We stood about five feet away from a gaping hole in the ground. It expanded in front of us like a divider line, stretching farther than I could see. It was at least the length of an eighteen-wheeled truck.
“Well, hell.” Megan balled her fingers into a fist.
“It goes out in both directions. How are we going to get across?” I heard the whine in my voice and cringed. No whining. Mom always told me not to whine. I should have made it the fourth rule.
“We’ll have to go around it,” Adam said.
“Let’s go this way. We know what’s back the other way. Maybe it will get thinner and we can jump over.” Megan turned to the right and started walking parallel to the ominous gap. Adam and I followed.
We walked. And walked. And walked.
“I think the gap looks smaller.” Megan craned her neck and stared into the rift.
“Yeah, you’re right. Down by the tree.” I pointed at a sagging oak tree.
We sprinted to the tree, Adam and I reaching it first, Megan lagging behind.
The gap had shrunk to about twenty feet wide. “There’s still no way we can jump over.”
“Then we keep going.” Megan stomped ahead.
We had walked about another half-hour past ruined houses and fallen trees when the chasm ran parallel to the road again.
“That truck has a ladder.” Adam ran to a beat up truck covered in rust and hauling painting supplies. “Help me get it down.”
“For what?”
“It should be long enough for us to get across the gap.” He hopped onto the truck and slid the ladder down.
“You want us to cross the gap with this rickety old ladder? I think I’d rather stay on this side of the chasm.” Megan crossed her arms.
“But there are Raspers for sure on this side. They might not be able to cross it. Forward, remember.” I took one end of the ladder and Adam lifted the other.
“We don’t even know how long the gap is. It could end in another fifty feet.” Megan trailed behind us.
“And it might go on for fifty miles.” Adam said.
“Fine.” Megan uncrossed her arms, but her body language still telegraphed disagreement. “Who’s going over first?”
The Colony Page 21