He was glad to be wrong.
Irving hung a right just past the clock tower. They headed into a parking deck. The truck wouldn’t make the tight turns of the spiraling concrete, so once they were in the lower most level, Irving backed into a parking spot, stopped, and shut the engine off.
“Here we are,” Irving said.
“Thank God,” Blake said. “Your driving gets me squeamish.”
Irving rolled his eyes and huffed air from his nose.
No one was there to greet them. Logan liked that. The entirety of the trip, he’d been sure they’d be ambushed upon entering the Falls. This distrust of people was new, but it ran deep. He could tell Brad was thinking the same thing. Grease, despite being a part of the group who’d been ambushed by religious zealots, just seemed happy to be behind a fence again. He stretched his arms up high to the heavens and thanked God, just as Blake had done.
“We’ll get you set up in the Sheraton after your examination,” Irving said.
Logan’s heart dropped. Once the fear passed, it was replaced by a budding anger. “Examination? You didn’t mention that part.”
Irving jutted out his lower lip. Logan was towering over him, but he didn’t seem to notice. “Why, I thought that was pretty obvious. You didn’t run tests at the place you came from? Ironlock, was it?”
“Tests as in…?” Grease said.
“Simple,” Blake answered. They were all still standing around the truck, the smell of diesel thick in the air. “Doc Cuthbert examines you for anything that may be a little…off. Bites, scratches, you know, that’s sort of thing.”
“To see if we’re infected?” Logan asked.
“No doy,” Grease mocked.
Logan flipped him the bird. To Irving and Blake, he said, “We’re all good. No bites, no scratches.”
“It happens fast, doesn’t it?” Jane asked. “The times I’ve seen someone…change, it’s always fast.”
“True,” Irving replied. “It usually is. But we’ve seen cases that weren’t. The motto around here is ‘better to be safe than sorry’.”
“Understandable,” Logan said. “We’ll complete your tests, no problem.”
“Good to hear,” Irving said. “C’mon, I’ll walk you over there.”
The exam room was a brightly lit place in the basement of the Sheraton. It smelled of formaldehyde and disinfectant. That was a good smell to Logan, one he hadn’t sniffed in a long while.
Doc Cuthbert stood just over six feet in height. His shoulders were slouched with age. If Logan had to guess, he would say the man was well into his seventies. Aside from a pouchy belly protruding from beneath his white lab coat, he was in pretty good shape. Most importantly, he was still alive in a time when most of the country—most of the world—wasn’t.
“Pleased to meet you,” Cuthbert said to Logan.
Logan took his hand and they shook. Cuthbert had a strong grip.
“Just gotta give you the once-over and draw some blood. No big deal.”
“Sure,” Logan said. “No problem.”
He undressed, and Cuthbert looked at him with a trained, professional eye, going over pretty much every inch of Logan’s body. There was a mirror across the way that Logan could see himself in. He didn’t like what he saw, either. Ribs protruded from beneath pale flesh. There was a bruise under his left pectoral muscle, and a healing cut along his side from a sharp brick that had disagreed with him that first night the bombs had dropped.
“Not from a monster,” Logan said.
“Oh, I know. Been doing this for months, my friend. That one,” Cuthbert touched the hard flesh of the scab, “is all but healed.” The stool he sat on rolled backward. He turned off the light he had attached to his head and smiled a sweet old man’s smile. “You look as fit as a fiddle, son—considering, I guess.”
“I know,” Logan said, “I could stand to gain a few pounds.”
Cuthbert nodded. “A fella as big as you shouldn’t be this skinny, sure thing, but you’re alive, aren’t you? That’s the most important thing.”
Logan smiled back at Cuthbert. Already, he knew he liked this man.
“I wouldn’t worry too much about it. Not yet,” Cuthbert continued. “I’ve certainly seen worse. Besides, Gunner’ll feed you right as he can.”
“Gunner?”
That same smile on Cuthbert’s face. “Yeah, Gunner basically runs the place. Good fella. He was with the infantrymen who’d been sent this way when all hell broke loose. He’s about the only one of them still standing.”
Logan began dressing. He was grateful the exam was over—the room was much too cold, which made sense, considering the need to conserve fuel. Cuthbert, ever the professional, had his back turned toward Logan and was messing around with tools that probably didn’t need messing with.
“Irving didn’t mention him.”
“Irving doesn’t know him that well, I’d say,” Cuthbert said. “He doesn’t make that many public appearances. I’m on good terms with him, I guess.”
“Should I be worried?” Logan’s question was only half-sarcastic.
“Not at all, son,” Cuthbert replied.
Logan went to the door, put his hand on the handle.
“Nice to meet you, Doc.”
“Likewise, son. Now send in the next one of your group, please.”
“Will do.”
No one failed their examination. After they were done, Irving directed them to the upper floors of the Sheraton.
The electricity worked here. The corridors were bright and warm. Walking through the halls with Irving in the lead, Logan saw a few other people. They seemed friendly enough. An older woman waved to them all and said, “Glad to have you here.” A man and his son smiled as they went past. Logan and the others smiled back.
“We’ll get you set up on the fifth floor. You’ll have it to yourselves for now. Tomorrow, Blake and I will go out and look for more survivors. If we find any, they’ll be up there with you,” Irving said.
The elevator didn’t work, so they took the stairs; something about conserving as much energy as they could. As long as the lights were bright enough and the rooms were warm, they’d be happy. That meant no televisions or phones or mini-fridges, and if you wanted booze, you had to work for it, just the same as before the world had ended.
The room Jane and Logan were set up in was nice, much nicer than Logan had expected. There were two bathrooms, one by the door and one right by the king-sized bed. Logan had never slept in a bed that big, despite his size. He never thought he would, either.
Across the hall, Brad and Grease shared a room, and down the way, Tyler and May each got their own quarters. If more people moved in, May said she would gladly share with Tyler.
“I’ve been by his side since the first nights of this mess,” she had said. “As long as he showers, I have no problem bunking with him.”
Tyler had smiled and shook his head.
Irving said they probably wouldn’t have to worry, pointing out that, since the bombs had dropped, the survivors were coming up fewer and fewer. Then his head fell and he looked at the diamond-designed carpet like a man in mourning.
After a minute, he said, “You all rest up, get clean, and enjoy. Come tomorrow morning, you’ll meet the leader of our little compound, and he’ll offer you jobs.”
“Jobs?” Jane asked.
“Yes, ma’am. Everyone has to do their part. Don’t worry, nothing too hard.” Irving winked and with that, he left them on the fifth floor, basking in the dim, orange glow of the emergency lights.
“You trust them?” Brad said when Irving was gone.
Logan shrugged. “I can’t say yet, but so far, so good.”
“I don’t trust them,” Brad replied.
“Oh, come on, Brad,” Jane said. “Not everyone is the devil.”
“She’s got you there,” Tyler said, grinning.
May had already gone into her room. They could hear the shower running from the hall.
“I don’t know. Just something about this place seems too good to be true,” Brad said. He shook his head. “Maybe I’ll feel better after a night of sleep.”
“A night of sleep in an actual bed,” Jane added. “Not even Ironlock had beds.”
Brad shook his head and said, “Goodnight, all.” He left Jane and Logan standing in the hall after he closed his door behind him.
Logan saw the number on his hotel door was 5-13, and he thought maybe that was a bad omen, but it was only a fleeting thought. A room was a room; a bed was a bed, especially a king-sized bed.
He grabbed the handle and opened the door. “After you, my dear,” he said to Jane.
She fluttered her eyes. “Oh me, oh my, how chivalrous of you, Mr. Harper.”
“I do my best.” Logan leaned in and kissed her on the neck.
She wrapped him around the waist and brought him closer. The next kiss was on the lips. Her hand drifted down below his waist. She squeezed. It had been a long time since she had done that. It was almost euphoric.
“Oh me, oh my,” he said in a falsetto voice.
It was like a record scratched. Jane’s hand moved away.
“Ah, no, I’m just kidding. Don’t do me like that,” Logan pleaded.
Jane walked into the room. She went around the corner to the bed. He stopped at the threshold. Jane took off her clothes. She was as beautiful as always.
For the first time in nearly two months, they made love like they had on their wedding night, and they had done it without looking over their shoulders, without worrying about anyone in the next cell hearing their moans of pleasure.
It was blissful.
After that, they fell asleep in each other’s arms, and their sleep was dreamless and pure.
17
Moving On
Unlike everyone else, Tyler couldn’t sleep. He sat up in the living room area of his suite, staring at the blank television screen. There was a thick film of dust on it. He leaned forward and imprinted two dots with his index finger, beneath them he drew a curved line, but his hands were shaking. They were always shaking these days. So the smiley face he had meant to draw possessed a lightning bolt for its mouth, and two blocky eyes.
The place was very quiet. The window to his right looked out on the Cuyahoga River. He remembered hearing about how it had caught on fire about fifty years ago because of how polluted it was. In the dim light from the compound, the water looked clear. A thin layer of ice floated around the rocks, hazy white. He’d take pollution over what had happened to the world in a heartbeat. Oh yes, he would.
It was times like these, despite the relative good that had come to him and May and the other survivors of Ironlock, that a deep depression settled within him. Well, the depression, he figured, was always there as of late; it just reared its ugly head in the quiet, alone hours. In these hours, he would begin thinking of his mother and his grandma, his Nana. Them in D.C., them dead and gone, them ravaged, and his heart would ache horribly. Now was no different. He didn’t know how much longer he had before it broke completely.
Tyler leaned back, his head against the plush pillows of the loveseat. He sighed and closed his eyes.
Two minutes later, a soft knock came on the door, a tap-tap-tap.
He stood up. He didn’t bother looking through the peephole, because he knew who it would be on the opposite side of the door.
Standing there in a fresh pair of jeans and a t-shirt that fit her well was May. She looked very tired: purple rings under her eyes, bloodshot whites. Her hair shimmered in the light, and droplets of water fell onto her shoulders. She smelled like coconut.
“I see you’ve enjoyed yourself,” Tyler said, smirking.
“It was heaven,” May replied. “Mind if I come in? Can’t sleep. The shower’s one thing, but a bed as soft as these ones? That just feels selfish now.”
Tyler stepped aside. He hadn’t even taken his boots off, let alone thought about taking a shower. The food a young man had brought up earlier—part of the ‘newcomer’s package,’ no doubt—lay on the table between the loveseat and television, untouched.
“I know what you mean,” Tyler said. “It’s like we’re royalty or something.”
“I wouldn’t go that far…” May said, smiling. She sat in the armchair in the corner of the room and turned to face the floor-to-ceiling window overlooking the Cuyahoga River. “Not much of a waterfall there, is it?”
“Maybe down the way. Besides, it’s dark.”
“You and that scientific mind,” May said.
“Getting smaller and less scientific each day. The stuff going on out there now…the monsters, the perpetual darkness, that’s beyond science—at least our world’s science.”
“So you’d say it’s, what, supernatural?”
Tyler shrugged and put his feet up on the coffee table. The cover on the food dish jingled.
“Wow, I never thought I’d see the day,” May said. “A scientist just admitted to believing in the supernatural.”
“Hey now, I didn’t specifically say that, did I? I’m just saying, when there’s no other explanation, what else could it be?”
“Ghosts. Ooooooo,” May mocked.
A silence fell between them, one that was not uncomfortable. They had only known each other for half a year, but in that half a year, they had become closer than some lifelong friends ever did. Tyler loved May and May loved Tyler. They were family, bonded by war and tragedy, their relationship forged in blood and struggle.
“Can you believe it?” May said after a moment.
Tyler knew what she was talking about, even though she hadn’t stated it.
“No, I can’t. Not after the bombs in Cleveland.”
“And Stone Park, too,” she said. “That’s only a few miles away from here.”
“About twenty, right?”
She nodded. My cousin went to Woodhaven, and they always played Stone Park in volleyball. Meanest, strongest chicks in the whole Suburban League.”
Tyler grinned. “This place just may be lucky. The fallout went the other way, and the monsters leave them alone.”
“It’s almost perfect,” May agreed.
“Yeah, but I’m not staying,” Tyler said.
“What?” She practically gasped. “What do you mean?”
“I’ve been thinking, May,” he began. “Ohio isn’t for me. I have no ties to this place.”
“Me, either. Not now,” May said. “Ohio isn’t even Ohio anymore. Things have changed.” She stood up and sat next to Tyler on the loveseat. She grabbed his hands. Hers were so small and, for the first time in a long time, so warm. His hands dwarfed hers; still, she squeezed fiercely.
“I want to head east, back to my home. I need closure, May,” Tyler said. “I need to know what happened to my mom and Nana.” Tears stung the back of his eyes, but he wouldn’t let them fall, not in front of May. He was supposed to be strong, her rock. “You can understand that, can’t you?”
She didn’t answer, but she stared at him as if she wanted to rip his head right off his neck. He steeled himself for her outburst. May was prone to such things, and Tyler had been on the wrong end a few times—mostly for good reason. But this was good, too. He didn’t think he’d ever build up the courage to tell her he wanted to leave Ohio and head east. Especially not now that they were getting settled again. It didn’t make sense, did it? Of course not. He had shelter and food and hot water and electricity. May was here. The other survivors from Ironlock, people Tyler had also grown to admire, were here, too. If May had declared that he had lost his mind, he would’ve been inclined to agree with her—or, at the very least, he wouldn’t have argued. He’d lost his mind when he spent those first forty-eight hours holed up in a tank, with a mass grave outside. Any sane person would’ve done the same.
But May’s anger never came. Her face relaxed, and she took Tyler’s hands again, looking deep into his eyes.
“Okay,” she said, “let’s go to D.C.”
Tyler’s ja
w dropped. He couldn’t find any words to say.
“I mean it,” she insisted. “I’ve always wanted to go. Well, I mean, I went in eighth grade, but that seems so long ago, and I barely remember, so it doesn’t count. Besides…I wouldn’t let you go by yourself.”
“May—“ he began, but she cut him off.
“C’mon, Tyler. We’ve been partners since almost day one. Without you, I would’ve died. I guarantee it.”
“Don’t sell yourself short. You would’ve been fine.”
“No, really. I would be dead. There were so many times, so many close calls.”
“Like the car accident,” Tyler said.
May rolled her eyes. “Accident being the key word here. We were being chased. You lost control of the car because that monster smashed into the tires and made the steering all wonky. You were already delirious from the hit. Me, I wouldn’t have been able to keep going after it hit us.”
“May, please…”
But ‘please’ what? He didn’t want to travel to D.C. alone, and whenever he imagined traversing the wasteland the world had become, May was always right there by his side, wasn’t she? Yes. No question. But the Falls was safe. She knew Logan and Jane and Brad and Grease. She would get to know the others. Here, he knew, she would be okay. Out there, on the road? The chances of death were much higher. And he loved May, he couldn’t put that on her. She had gone through enough.
“I know what you’re doing,” May said, almost startling him. “You’re internally debating. When you do that, your right ear starts twitching.”
Self-consciously, Tyler brought a hand up to his ear. It was twitching.
“I’ll tell you right now, dude,” she said, “you can stop debating. I’m coming with you. You have no choice. If you stay, I stay. If you go, I go.”
She stood up, her mind made, then she leaned over and kissed him on the cheek, her lips against the stubble of his coming beard making a scratching sound. He smiled at her.
Decimated: A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller (Taken World Book 3) Page 10