Claire slowly lowered her hand from covering her mouth, and let it drop to her side. She stood in silent contemplation for a moment, staring at the ground in front of her feet.
Shelley, Maria and Sarah followed Nancy’s lead and found places to sit. Claire watched them, and once they were seated, she appeared to have made up her mind. She addressed all of them.
“You think me telling my story will help.” She said it as if it was an accusation. “It’s not going to help me. ... I feel ... no hope.” She dropped her gaze again. Her long grey hair cascading in front of her face.
“I have no hope.” She said as she raised her eyes, looking through the grey curtains of her hair.
Nancy was unperturbed. She uttered a single word. “Try.”
They were silent for several long moments. Nobody moved. Claire looked to be on the verge of making another run for it. But then something changed for her. She swept her hair from her face and looked at each person in the room, as if trying to determine their intention.
“Ok.” She said.
Claire took a deep breath, trying to compose her thoughts. She remained standing, with the window at her back. Then she started to talk.
“My husband. ... Tom.” Claire smiled when she said his name. “Tom and I were empty nesters. Both of our boys had been out of the house for years. We led a comfortable life. Routine.” She said with a small nod.
“Things changed so fast... I struggle with it.”
Chapter Forty-eight
Claire
October 26, 3:20 P.M.
The man lurched from behind the car onto the sidewalk. He heard something, which made him look up. There was a steady hum above the house in front of him, from the power lines high above. He had taken a few more steps when he heard a dog barking.
Tex was barking again. The golden retriever sensed somebody approaching the house. The dog hopped around excitedly and scratched at the front door as a person reached the other side of the door. The handle turned, and the door opened. Tex was out the door and lunged at the newcomer.
“Tex! Take it easy, boy. Down boy!” Dale tried to keep the dog from pushing him off balance. With a laugh he put a hand on the dog’s collar, dropped to his knees and pulled the dog down. The over-excited dog would not stop whining and barking, all the while trying to lick the young man’s face. With a sputter, Dale pulled the dog away from his face. “It’s ok boy. Calm down!” This only got the dog more excited and with a lunge Tex bowled Dale over. There was no getting around it. The young man was getting a slobbery wet welcome.
“Tex! Here boy!” Tom sternly called from the doorway. The dog reluctantly looked up, and with one final lick left the young man to heel next to its master.
Claire stepped out onto the porch with a concerned look. “Get up, Dale. Come inside.” She stood over him and reached down to help him up, her head up and scanning the street. Dale ignored the hand and got himself up. His mom wasn’t the strongest person, while he was a shade over six feet tall and a shade over two hundred pounds. He’d be more likely to pull her down if he used her proffered support.
“It’s ok, mom.” He stood up and gave his mom a bear hug. He could feel her squirm slightly before returning the embrace. She always was one of those types of people that tended to avoid public displays of affection. Or rather, she knew that Tom disapproved. It only made Dale hold on to her longer.
Dale let go of his mother and turned around to grab his luggage. The front yard looked immaculate – just like it always did. The cleanest sidewalk and driveway, the tidiest house, and the best-looking yard. Those were of the utmost importance to the Moore household. Appearances mattered.
Tom and Claire were probably more concerned about the neighbors seeing this embarrassing episode, than they were about the crazy things transpiring in the world. Dale smiled sadly.
He remembered growing up here. They used to have an awesome tree in their front yard. Great for climbing. He used to climb it all the time with his buddies. His parents used to hate that.
Then the power company decided their house was in the middle of a planned power corridor. They’d offered a good sum to purchase the lot.
But dad hated change.
He refused. There was even a court case. Finally, dad’s stubbornness wore down even the city governance. The powerlines went in, but the Moore family stayed exactly where they were.
Dale picked up his suitcase and sports bag and entered the house. He dropped them inside the living room and embraced his dad. “I missed you guys!” he said. The lie rolling off his tongue all too easily.
Tex was getting all excited again, so Tom broke off the embrace. He pulled the dog to the kitchen at the back of the house and opened the back door.
“Tex. Out!” He said, pointing sternly out to the back yard. The banished dog skulked out of the back door with that heartbroken look that golden retrievers were masters at.
Dale collected his bags again and made his way down the all-too-familiar hall towards his old room. He opened the door to his old room and dropped his bags inside. He stood for a moment just inside that door and breathed in the memories of his youth, then stepped out and closed the door behind him with a rueful smile.
It was good to be home.
Dale walked back to the living room and saw his mother fussing in the kitchen. He inhaled, and the smell of meatloaf met his olfactory senses. Yet another smell that brought him back in time, to his childhood. There was always some kind of good smell coming out of that kitchen.
His dad was sitting on the couch reading a magazine. This was a typical day at the Moore’s household. Dale had to shake his head at it. The whole scene looked ... staged. Like Dale was walking on to the set of a sixty’s sitcom.
Dale walked up and grabbed the remote. “Mind if I check the news?” He asked his dad, as he turned the tv on.
The sounds of a game show re-run filled the room as the tv flickered to life.
“Still into the game shows, I see.” Dale mumbled. Claire and Tom watched those religiously. Dale changed the channel and quickly found what he was looking for.
“Did you guys see that piece last night, about the pentagon, and the dead rising?” He asked his dad. Tom merely replied with a grunt. Dale wasn’t fazed though.
The newscast was short – only about five minutes long – and set in a loop. The sentence ‘We have first-hand confirmation that the dead are rising.’ was so utterly shocking to Dale that it took him several minutes to collect his thoughts. When the newscast started for a second time, again with that horrifying message, Tom calmly reached for the remote and turned it off.
“Leave it.” He said to his son. “This stuff upsets your mother.”
Dale looked at his dad in shock, his mouth agape. “Upsets your mo– Dad, are you seeing this?”
Tom’s mouth was a thin line. “Tom.” He corrected. “And yes. Yes, I am.” He sighed, preparing himself to explain something “Dale, I feel that the media is making all this out to be bigger than it really is. I don’t believe in this nonsense. And for that matter, I think the government will handle it. And before you bring it up – No. We are not interested in going to this ‘safe zone’. Your mom and I believe that we just need to stay put.”
“Dad!” Dale struggled to find the words. “Are you fucking nuts?”
“Dale!” Claire called out from the kitchen. “Watch your language!” Dale briefly glanced at his mom, before turning back to his dad.
“This isn’t going away, dad. I had to use the back roads to get here. The army won’t let anybody get on the highways.”
“I’m sure they are just trying to keep things under control.”
“They’re shooting at people, dad. I saw a bulldozer push a car off the 45 interchange. That car was totally shot up – full of bullet holes. Dad. ... I’m sure I saw bodies in there!”
“People shouldn’t break the law. The army is out there to protect us.”
Shaking his head, Dale tried another tactic. �
��Dad, I’m sure that I saw a couple of these ‘undead’ on my way over here. This is for real.”
Tom did not respond immediately. After a moment, he turned to his son; the familiar disapproving frown was etched onto his face. “I’m not stupid, Dale. I personally believe that this will pass quickly, and that the government will take appropriate steps to keep its people safe. Let me finish!” Tom added as Dale was about to interrupt. “Your mom and I were talking, and if things get really bad, we might get Darren and Sheila to join us at the cabin. I strongly believe that we can ride this thing out over there if we need to.”
This surprised Dale. “And Darren agrees to this?” Dale’s older brother took after his dad a lot more than he did. Which meant that Darren probably had no intention of coming out to the cabin.
“Well, now that you’re here we can give him a call.” Tom stood up and walked to the kitchen. He reached across the counter and picked up the phone. Looking down for a second, he pushed a button and brought the phone to his ear.
Great. Dale walked over to stand beside his dad. Darren’s on speed dial. Dale almost asked if he, too, was on speed dial. But he figured that he knew the answer to that question, so didn’t bother.
Dale watches as a smile appears on Tom’s face. Ah, it’s the prodigy. He thought bitterly.
“Hello Darren, it’s Tom.”
Another idiosyncrasy. As soon as Darren and Dale turned 18, dad had insisted that they call him ‘Tom’ rather than ‘dad’. It was something Dale did not adhere to, albeit most of the time out of habit rather than malicious intent.
Darren didn’t seem to have a problem with it though.
“Listen Darren, about all these things happening on the news.”
Dale shook his head. These things aren’t happening on the news, dad. They’re happening outside. You know, in the real world? He kept the comments to himself though.
“Yeah? ... Uh–huh. Good. So, you’re keeping safe. Your mother and I were thinking, and if things get bad, we’d like you and Sheila to come down to the cabin.”
Dale thought that this actually wasn’t a bad idea. Let’s get the fuck out of town!
“... Yes, of course. Only if things get out of control. ... Uh–huh. ... Ok, how about we talk again in the morning? I will give you a call around ten. ... Oh, you want to call me? ... Ok. Talk to you in the morning.” He hung up the phone and pulled the notepad towards him, likely to write himself a reminder to wait for a call from his son.
It all sounded so mundane to Dale. Like his dad was making an appointment or something. ‘Oh, hi Darren. How about that nuclear war? Yeah, we’ll have to take an umbrella out. Did you hear about the zombie apocalypse? I just hope it doesn’t make me miss my tee-time at the golf course. That would be such a bother.’ Dale played out the conversation in his mind.
Ah, damn it. Dale’s thoughts turned inwards. Why am I so fucking bitter? My parents never beat me. I had a good, safe childhood. If anything, they should be the ones that are bitter. Face it, Dale; you’re a disappointment. A loser.
Dale’s inner dialogue was cut short though when he felt a hand on his shoulder. His mom had come to stand beside him. She offered him a smile and put a cup of tea in front of him. The love in her eyes was unconditional.
“Thanks, mom.” All negative thoughts drifted away into the recesses of his mind as he smiled at his mom and reached for the cup.
THEY HAD A QUIET DINNER together later that day. The three of them were sitting around the dining table just like they used to, when Dale was still living at home, and Darren had left for college. It almost felt to Dale like he had slipped back in time. Dinner wasn’t sitting well with him, and he felt the start of a gut ache coming on.
Damn, I hope I packed those antacids.
Dale looked at his surroundings as he quietly ate his supper. The house still was pretty much the same as it was six years ago. The only changes were in his parents, and Tex. They all got older.
It seemed to Dale that they had aged more than six years. His mom’s face was heavily lined, and her hair had turned mostly grey. Dad looked even worse. A few years of retirement had afforded the man too much couch time, apparently.
He must have gained fifty pounds since I moved out!
The hair that he had left, had gone beyond grey and was now white. His eyes were still the same though. Grey-blue, with an intensity that could drill right through you. That, and the lips. Those thin lips, perpetually positioned in a frown. Those hadn’t changed either.
Poor Tex had aged most of all. His face had gone mostly white. Tex was lying on his side, at the edge of the dining room, having been trained long ago to not beg at the table. When the dog noticed Dale’s attention, the tail started wagging, slapping the linoleum floor.
“Tex!” Tom warned without lifting his face from the meal in front of him.
The dog stopped its wagging, got up and with one last sad look, walked into the kitchen to his dog bed near the back door. Dale noticed that the dog moved stiffly when getting up.
Those joints are getting stiff, old boy!
The rest of the meal passed in silence. The cutlery made more noise than the people using them. That was the way the Moore’s preferred it. Efficient. No unnecessary, annoying interactions.
Dale decided to do a quick tour of the house after supper. It had been a few years, and nostalgia was calling. His first stop was his brother’s room. The door opened with a slight crack, almost as if opening a sealed chamber. As if to confirm this analogy, Dale saw that nothing had changed in Darren’s room. A couple of baseball bats were mounted above the desk, remnants of high school and college glory. All the posters and trinkets were left untouched.
An eternal shrine to the golden child. It wasn’t jealousy, Dale told himself.
Dale had no interest in being the prodigious son, with the career, the property, the investment portfolio and the smart, handsome wife.
Not jealous... He repeated.
Just about the only thing dad didn’t like was that they were DINKs – dual income no kids. But pesky children would just get in the way, wouldn’t they, Darren...
Dale stood in the middle of his older brother’s room and thought about it some more.
Huh. I am actually not jealous. The realization made him smile.
The way dad had always doted over the older Moore boy had been painful when growing up, but it had built Dale’s character and self-sufficiency in the long run.
He had also gone beneath notice, which worked out well for the mischievous teenage Dale.
Him and his brother really couldn’t have been more opposites. Where Darren excelled in school, Dale struggled. Darren was fit while Dale tended to be flabby. Darren had a prestigious job and Dale couldn’t hold down a job for more than a few months at a time. The list went on and on.
Dale stepped up to a dresser. A framed picture showed Darren receiving his graduation certificate from their old principal. Dale picked it up and lifted the picture close to his face, so he could see the details of his brother’s face.
It confirmed his suspicion.
At least I found a way to be happy and satisfied. You always were and probably still are, miserable, brother.
Darren’s stern face stared back at him from the picture.
“Oh, Darren. Was High School just another check box to mark off, in your task list called life?” Dale asked, as he placed the picture back on the dresser.
With a sad shake of his head, Dale walked out and closed the door to his brother’s bedroom.
He walked down the hall and saw the framed family pictures on a wall. They hung in a neat, orderly row. He glanced at the pictures. The only hint of humor in any of the pictures came from his own face, and occasionally from his mom. Dale stopped in front of one family portrait, the boys sitting on bar stools with the parents standing behind. The picture was about twenty years old, and yet it would look eerily similar if they had staged the same photograph today.
Dad. Stern, proud, and a
lways wary of displaying any emotion. Mom. A half-smile. The peace maker. Always running interference when arguments broke out. Full of love for her kids. Full of concern over outward appearances. Darren. The man with the plan. Also, an arrogant dickhead of a brother. And then there was the youngest member of the family.
Dale’s gaze lingered on his younger self.
You were no angel either, Dale. Seemed like you were always getting in trouble. Crying out for attention, maybe? Oh well, at least I dealt with my shit. I’m over it. ... I think.
With that thought fresh in his mind, Dale walked up to the living room. The tv was off. His dad sat in his chair reading a magazine, while his mom sat on the couch with a romance novel. The picture seemed so fake to Dale that he wanted to run into that living room, screaming at the top of his lungs. He wanted to shake his mom and dad by the shoulders and yell in their faces.
Wake up! The world is ending! There are fucking zombies out there!
Instead, he swallowed that scream. He walked over behind the couch to stand behind his mom and put his hand on her shoulder. She quickly put her hand to cover his and smiled up at him. He smiled back and told his parents that he was turning in for the night.
He lay awake in his bed for a long time after that. Dale lay in the dark and stared at all the familiar shadows in his room. They comforted him. He could faintly hear the hum of the powerlines high above him. He was still awake when his parents went to bed but slipped into sleep shortly after that.
THE NIGHT WAS FILLED with noises. Dale stirred in his old bed, tossing and turning as the sounds of crashes, glass shattering, gunshots and screams fought for entry into his consciousness.
It was a crash and scream that eventually woke him up, early the next morning.
He was still shaking off the sleep, until the sound of yet another scream reached him. Dale sat up in bed, suddenly awake. His room was still dark, but he could see pale light coming in from above his drawn curtains. The sun had not yet risen but was about to do so.
Apocalypsis Immortuos | Book 1 | Syndrome Page 34