by Lukens, Mark
“I think I know who it is shooting out there,” Emma said from behind Ray.
Ray was the closest one to the end of the hall where it opened up to the living room. Kim had the kids crouched down next to a wall, the guest bedroom just on the other side of it. He looked back at Emma who stood in the gloom of the hall.
“They’ve shot at the rippers before,” Emma said. “Some guys across the courtyard. The gunshots seem to drive the rippers away. For a little while, at least.”
Ray looked back towards the living room and listened. The gunshots had stopped. There had only been a few. Maybe whoever was shooting was conserving their bullets. The pounding and clawing at the front door and living room window had stopped. And that was a good thing, because even though the rippers might not be able to get in through the barred windows, it would probably only be a matter of time before they were able to smash the front door in.
Ray looked back at everyone. “You guys okay?”
Mike nodded. “Yeah, Dad.” His son seemed shell-shocked, but he was putting on a brave face.
“Okay,” Ray said. “You guys wait here for a minute.”
Ray left the hallway and entered the living room. His skin felt like it was buzzing with energy and his muscles were jittery. It was still quiet beyond the front door, but he wanted to peek outside and see. He walked towards the solid door and looked out through the peephole. It was getting dark outside, but he could still see quite a bit from the fisheye view of the peephole. He saw no one in his field of vision, and everything was getting dark with shadows.
“I think it’s okay now,” Ray said as he moved away from the door.
Kim and the kids came out of the hallway, followed by Emma.
“I’m sorry,” Ray told Emma. “I haven’t introduced myself.”
“You’re Ray Daniels,” Emma said.
The words dried up in Ray’s throat. He realized he was nodding, and then he cleared his throat. “Yes. That’s right.”
“My mom told me a lot about you.”
“She did?” Ray asked. That was strange. He never really considered himself close to Helen. He could probably count on one hand the conversations he’d had with his neighbor.
“Yes,” Emma said, but she didn’t bother explaining any further.
“This is my wife, Kim.”
“Hi,” Kim said. She was being polite, but she was still trembling, her eyes still wide.
“Hi, Kim,” Emma said.
“These are our kids, Mike and Vanessa.”
“Hi, Mike and Vanessa,” Emma said.
“How did you go blind?” Mike asked.
“Mike,” Kim hissed at him, warning him again.
Emma just smiled. “Are you two thirsty?” she asked Mike and Vanessa.
“I am,” Mike said.
Vanessa just nodded, staring at Emma with wide eyes.
“The electricity’s been out for a while,” Emma said. “I have some cans of sodas and bottles of water, but they’re all warm.”
“That’s fine,” Ray said and cleared his throat, suddenly realizing how thirsty he was.
Emma smiled and headed for the kitchen that was just off of the living room. The condo was small but cozy, without much in the way of furniture or décor. There was a couch along the one wall with a recliner caddy corner from it, with a low coffee table in front of the sofa. A few small tables were snug against other walls with a few knickknacks on them, but that was about it. Everything seemed neat and orderly, everything in its place.
Ray watched Emma as she moved around the kitchen so easily.
“Ray,” Kim whispered.
He looked at her and she nodded towards the kitchen. “Go help her,” she mouthed the words.
Ray hurried into the kitchen. “Sorry,” he said. “I must still be in shock. What can I do to help?”
Emma smiled at him and handed him two cans of sodas. “I don’t know what Mike and Vanessa want. Just let them pick out what they like.”
Mike and Vanessa took that as an invitation to rush into the kitchen. They picked out their drinks.
“Ray,” Emma said. “Can I ask a favor?”
“Sure.”
“I wanted to move the refrigerator in front of the sliding glass door.” She gestured at a wall of vertical blinds that hid the door. “I’ve got the metal bar locking the sliding glass door, but I’m still worried someone could bust the glass and get in. I tried to secure this place as best I could, but that’s still a weak area.”
“Yes,” Ray said and he went to work moving the refrigerator in front of the sliding glass door that led outside to a small strip of grass that served as the backyard, a stucco wall only thirty feet away from the door.
Mike wanted to help but Kim warned him to stay away. Ray was more than capable of sliding the fridge in front of the glass doors, she told him. Ray also moved the stove over beside the refrigerator after unplugging it from the wall. The appliances didn’t make an impenetrable wall of any kind, but it would be enough to slow intruders down if they tried to get in.
Emma turned to the kids like she knew exactly where they were. “So, Mike. How old are you?”
“I’m eleven,” he told her.
“I’m seven,” Vanessa said.
“Are you really blind?” Mike asked.
“Mike,” Kim said. “I’m not going to tell you again.”
“It’s okay,” Emma said. “Yes. I’m really blind.”
“You can’t see anything?” Mike said.
“Nope. But I can still get around just fine.”
“How come you don’t have a dog to help you?” Vanessa asked.
“A seeing-eye dog,” Mike corrected his sister.
“Mom and Dad won’t let us have a dog,” Vanessa said.
“Well, I had a dog for a little while,” Emma said. “But not anymore.”
Ray looked at Kim, then at the kids. “Why don’t you two take your snacks into the living room?”
Mike could tell that it wasn’t a suggestion, that they were being forced to leave because the grown-ups wanted to talk.
“I want to stay with you,” Vanessa pouted.
“Come on,” Kim said, escorting Mike and Vanessa into the living room.
Ray looked at Emma when Kim and the kids were in the living room. They were only in the next room, and probably within earshot, but Ray kept his voice low. “I need to tell you about Helen.”
“She’s dead,” Emma said in a low voice.
“We don’t know that for sure,” Ray said.
But Emma looked certain about it.
“The military took her.” Ray glanced at Kim in the living room with the kids and then he looked back at Emma. “Your mother, Helen, she had a neighborhood meeting this morning at her house. A few of us were there, about ten of us. We were talking, trying to figure out what’s going on. Someone there said that the military had our subdivision blocked off, that they were quarantining some places. But it looked like they were beginning to round people up. They took Helen.”
Ray could see the soldiers forcing Helen into the Humvee again in his mind. He remembered how beat-up she’d been as they dragged her down her own front yard walkway. But he decided to spare Emma those details.
“She’s dead,” Emma said. “I know it. I can feel it.”
“We don’t know that for sure,” Ray said again.
Emma just nodded, her face set. “I know she is.”
“She told me she had cancer,” Ray said as if it might help with the grim news he had just delivered. “She said she didn’t have long.”
Emma scrunched her face a little in confusion. “No. She didn’t have cancer.”
Ray was about to argue with her, but then he closed his mouth. He remembered Helen jogging around the neighborhood only a few weeks ago, and now that he thought about it, she didn’t look like someone who was deathly ill. Then why had she told him that she had cancer?
Because she knew the end was coming, a voice in his mind whispered
to him. She knew the soldiers were coming to take her.
“There’s something else,” Ray told Emma. “Helen talked to me about you this morning. After the meeting was over and everyone else was gone, she asked me to stay for some coffee.” He thought again that if he would have skipped that meeting with Helen, he would have been at his house sooner to protect Kim from the ripper that had attacked her. He also thought that if he would’ve stayed just a little longer at Helen’s house things could have been much worse.
Emma seemed to watch Ray from behind her dark glasses. She was seated at the kitchen table, sitting very still, waiting for him to continue.
“Helen said you would need some help,” Ray said. He could feel his words breaking up a little, his throat swelling with emotion. But he didn’t want to cry with his kids in the next room—he wanted to be strong for them. “Helen asked me, asked us, to help you.”
Emma nodded. “Thank you.” But Emma waited like she knew Ray had more to say.
“But your mother also said that you could help us,” Ray said.
Emma didn’t say anything; she just waited for Ray to continue.
“She said you could help us find the way. She said you knew something about Avalon.”
For a moment, Emma was quiet. Then she finally nodded, breathing out a long, slow breath. “Yes,” she whispered. “I’ve been waiting for you.”
CHAPTER 23
“What do you mean by that?” Ray asked Emma. “What do you mean you’ve been waiting for us?”
“I felt you and your family in my dreams. I knew you would be coming here soon.”
“What? Like you’re psychic or something?”
“I don’t know what you call it exactly, but I can sense things. Not everything, just what comes to me. I’ve always had this . . . this ability, but lately, ever since all of this happened, it’s been much stronger.”
“How do you know about Avalon?” Ray asked her. “Do you know Craig Schuller? Do you work for the CDC? Does Avalon have something to do with the disease out there, this pandemic?” Ray stopped talking, realizing he was shooting rapid-fire questions at Emma, grilling her like he was interrogating a prisoner.
Emma just shook her head slightly. “I don’t work for the CDC, and I don’t know anyone named Craig Schuller. But I know that Avalon is something important. I know there are clues there, answers to the questions you’re asking, answers for everyone. Answers to a lot of things.”
“Answers to what’s going on out there?” Ray asked, pointing at the front door. Then he realized that she couldn’t see where he was pointing.
“I don’t know,” she admitted. “Maybe.”
“So Avalon is a place?” Ray asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe. Maybe not.” Emma sighed like she could feel Ray’s frustration. “I’m sorry. It’s the best explanation I can give you. I wish I knew more.”
*
Later that night, after the kids were asleep on the living room couch, Emma offered her spare bedroom to Ray and Kim. She had a bed in there that Helen used when she stayed the night.
Ray checked the plywood panels over the window in the guest bedroom, opening them and then checking the bars that had been installed a few weeks ago. He pulled on the bars. They were strong. Emma had known something was coming; she had prepared as best she could with the bars, the plywood panels, stocking up on food and water and candles. But why hadn’t she left if she knew this was coming? Why hadn’t she gone somewhere safe? Why hadn’t she gotten Helen away if she suspected something bad might happen to her?
But maybe she didn’t know exactly what was coming—she just knew that it was something bad.
Ray still felt tense, not ready to lie down in the bed next to Kim yet even though he needed some sleep. But he forced himself to lie down. Kim was breathing a little heavily, but he could tell that she was still awake. She’d been quiet for a while now, just lying there in bed.
“I’m scared,” Kim finally said in a whisper.
“I know,” Ray told her.
“No,” she said, still not moving, still staring up at the ceiling. “I’m scared of that disease out there. Look at all of those people who’ve been infected with that rabies thing, or whatever it is. All of those people in the streets. All of those people the soldiers killed. And those soldiers were wearing gas masks. But we’ve been breathing the same air as the rippers.”
These same thoughts had been running through Ray’s mind nonstop all day.
Kim was quiet for a long moment, and then she said: “I don’t feel good.” Her voice was trembling now. “I know I’ve been stressed out, but it’s more than that. It’s like there’s this anger inside of me, an anger that I’ve never felt before. And I’m having these strange thoughts . . . and strange urges. I feel like I can’t control them for much longer.”
Ray rolled over closer to Kim and held her. “You’re just freaking out,” he whispered to her. “That’s understandable with everything that’s happened. You’re having a . . . a panic attack or something. We’re going to be fine.”
“Stop saying that,” Kim snapped. “Stop saying that, because you don’t know that for sure.”
Ray was silent. He wanted to comfort Kim, but he feared the worst.
“What if I’m infected?” Kim asked, her voice soft again. “What if you are? What if the kids are?”
“Everyone is not going to be infected,” Ray said. “There’s never a one hundred percent infection rate for any virus or disease. It’s nature’s way of preserving a species.”
“Yeah, well plenty of species have gone extinct through the years.”
Ray didn’t have a reply for that one.
“What are we going to do if one of us . . . if one of us gets sick?” she asked.
Ray didn’t answer her. He felt panicky again. He felt that overwhelming weight pushing on his chest, trying to crush the breath out of him. He felt like a wave of electricity was buzzing on his skin, like his nerve-endings were frying, or shorting out somehow. His skin began to prickle, like a sheen of sweat was going to break out soon. He wanted to get up. He needed to move around, but he stayed there in bed.
“I don’t know,” Ray finally answered Kim. And that was the truth. How was he supposed to plan if he didn’t know what was going to happen? He’d always been a planner, someone who made lists and had steps marked out along the way. He always had a backup plan, and then a backup plan for that. He tried never to put himself into situations where rash decisions needed to be made; his whole life had been about order and predictable outcomes, probabilities and statistics, calculations and analysis.
Maybe that was why people considered him boring.
Maybe even his own wife considered him boring. Maybe that was why she had cheated on him.
He rolled over, hating himself for letting his mind go there, but Kim’s infidelity was never far out of reach, always lurking in the shadows of his mind, always waiting to come forward when he had a moment to think.
“We’re going to be okay,” Ray whispered. “I promise.”
Kim didn’t answer. She was breathing even heavier now, maybe sleeping finally.
Twenty minutes later Ray sat up in bed. He waited there for a long moment, watching Kim even though he couldn’t see her in the darkness. He waited, thinking she might call out to him, ask where he was going, but she didn’t.
Ray still had the urge to move, to get up and walk around, to somehow prove to himself that he was still somewhat in control, that he wasn’t losing his body or his mind to whatever virus was out there.
He stood up and began to navigate the almost pitch-black darkness.
Kim mumbled in her sleep.
Ray could make out the words, but the words weren’t making any sense, just gibberish. It scared him, because her gibberish sounded like some of the other people he’d already seen, people who were turning into rippers. But it wasn’t just her jumbled words that scared him; it was the anger in her voice when she muttered them, the rasp
ing curses and the hatred.
She’s just dreaming, he told himself. She’s just having a nightmare.
He walked around the foot of the bed to Kim’s side and laid a hand on her forehead. He had been expecting to feel heat from her skin, like she had a fever, but her flesh was cool. She didn’t wake from his touch and he drew his hand back.
He felt a little better now that he was sure she didn’t have a fever. Maybe she was just having a nightmare, just muttering words in her sleep. That’s all. It didn’t mean anything. And who wouldn’t have nightmares after the last two days they’d had?
Ray left the bedroom and went out to the living room. There was no light out here either, but he could just make out the bulky black objects in the room—the furniture. He checked on Mike and Vanessa; both of them were curled up on the couch, both of them sleeping, Mike on one end and Vanessa at the other end with one arm around Cappy, her stuffed turtle.
Everything was quiet outside for the moment. There had been the sound of gunshots and police sirens earlier, and some aircraft flying overhead, but now it was quiet, the silence so complete it felt like it was throbbing in his ears.
He didn’t want to, but he made himself lay a hand on Mike’s forehead. His skin was cool and dry. He didn’t stir from the touch. Ray went to Vanessa and laid a gentle hand on her forehead. She was a little warmer, but she was also half covered with a blanket.
A shuffling noise startled Ray—it had come from the kitchen. He whirled that way, staring into the darkness, trying to see what had made the noise. Then he saw someone sitting at the dining room table.