by Lukens, Mark
“What’s Avalon?” Mike asked.
“It’s a mythical place,” Ray told him.
“We’re going to a mythical place?” Mike asked Ray with a smile, teasing him.
“No, smartass. But there is a place called Avalon. It seems to be some kind of underground research center. I think it might be part of the CDC. It’s in northern Georgia.”
“That’s where you want to go?” Emma asked.
“Craig said the answers were in Avalon. I couldn’t find anything on his computer, but maybe they’re working on a cure there.”
Emma didn’t say anything. Ray didn’t think she was too sure about his idea.
“Georgia’s not too far away,” Ray said. “Of course with things the way they are now, it could take a while to get down there. And with winter coming . . .” He didn’t bother finishing the sentence.
Mike took another bite of his peanut butter sandwich. Ray wanted to finish the bread up so they were all eating sandwiches. “We could stay here for winter,” Mike suggested.
Ray nodded. “I’ve thought of that. But this place isn’t that safe.” He paused for a moment, not sure if he should tell them what he’d seen outside the garage windows earlier when they’d been in the garage, but he decided that he didn’t want to keep any secrets from them. “I saw some tracks in the snow by the trees when I was closing the garage windows. They were pretty far away, so I don’t know if they were from animals or people. And if those tracks were made by people, I don’t know if they’re from rippers or other survivors. Survivors may become as dangerous as rippers when the winter gets worse and the food supply dwindles. People will kill for food and water.”
Mike’s eyes were big. He had stopped eating his sandwich.
Ray pulled out his wallet (he couldn’t even believe he was still carrying it in his back pocket, but old habits die hard). He plucked out the folded-up piece of paper Doug had given him and laid it on the counter.
“What’s that?” Mike asked. He looked at Emma like he realized that she couldn’t see what his dad had just done. “He pulled out a piece of paper from his wallet.”
Emma smiled. “Thank you, Mike.”
“Sorry,” Ray muttered to Emma. “A few days ago, last Friday morning, the same day Craig called me, the day the phones and electricity went out, I went to work that morning. Our building had been closed down. Everyone was waiting outside because the doors were locked. Craig hadn’t shown up and everyone was panicking because of what they were hearing on the radio and seeing on their phones. Well, there’s this guy I worked with, Doug, and he’s what you’d call a prepper.”
“A prepper?” Mike asked.
“Yeah, a doomsday prepper. He always believed the end of civilization was coming and he wanted to be prepared for it.”
“I guess he was right,” Mike said, taking another bite of his sandwich.
Ray didn’t need to be reminded that Doug was right. “Well, he prepared by buying and fortifying a cabin in West Virginia. He drew me a map on this piece of paper and invited me and my family up there when the . . . when everything collapsed. He said it’s completely off the grid.”
“Off the grid? What’s that mean?”
“It means the place is self-sustaining. It has its own water and electricity; it’s not dependent on the city or county utilities.”
“How does it have its own water and electricity?” Mike asked.
“Probably a well and solar panels,” Ray told him.
“Electricity,” Mike said. “We could have lights again.”
“And a hot shower,” Emma said, smiling.
“Hot food,” Ray added.
Mike turned to Emma. “And we could charge a tape recorder up so you could listen to books and music.”
Emma touched Mike’s hand, squeezing it, still smiling.
Ray sighed. “I know it’s a longshot, and I know it’s risky to go to West Virginia, but I don’t know how long we would be able to stay here. Even if those tracks by the trees weren’t from rippers, some of them will find this place eventually. Even other looters and scavengers will eventually find us. And there’s no heat here. We can’t use the fireplace because we’d draw the rippers or looters here for sure because of the smoke from the chimney.”
They were all quiet for a moment.
“The thing is, I wanted to get your opinions,” Ray said. “If we’re going to leave, then we need to do it pretty soon. Probably in the next few days before it gets too much colder.”
“I vote that we go,” Emma said without hesitation. “I think we need to.”
Ray stared at Emma for a moment. He couldn’t help thinking that she was following some kind of secret plan of her own, something only she could see. Or maybe she could tell that it wasn’t safe here at Craig’s house.
Mike looked doubtful.
“I know it’s scary going back on the road,” Ray told him. “Believe me, I’m not looking forward to it. But I think it’s the best choice. Doug may be at his cabin, or he may not be. He might’ve turned into a ripper before he could get there. Or he might have been killed along the way.” Or he might have been killed or turned after he got to his cabin, but he didn’t want to say that. “Doug assured me that his cabin and the property is well-hidden. He told me the only way to find it was by this map.” He tapped his finger on the piece of paper on the countertop.
Mike still looked scared.
“We’ll take the back roads. I found a bunch of maps in Craig’s office. I’ll plan out a route that’s the least populated. We’ll take Craig’s other vehicle in the garage. Make sure it’s filled up with gas. Bring some extra gas with us.”
“And a gun,” Mike muttered.
“I couldn’t find a gun, but I’m sure Doug will have a few of them at his cabin.”
Mike’s expression brightened up a little.
“Or maybe we’ll find a gun along the way,” Ray added, even though he didn’t really believe that.
Mike finally nodded.
Ray smiled. “It’s settled, then. We’ll leave in a day or two. We’ll rest a little more, eat some more, pack up the truck in the garage after we make sure it still runs. We’ve got a lot to do in the next few days.”
CHAPTER 42
Two days later it was time to leave.
“I saw more tracks in the snow,” Ray told Emma and Mike when he came back down to the basement. It was morning, only eight o’clock, and it had gotten even colder in the house. “These tracks are closer to the house. Definitely human footprints.”
“Rippers?” Mike whispered. He had just woken up, but the news had him fully alert.
“Maybe,” Ray said. “Probably.”
“You didn’t see any of the rippers?” Emma asked.
“No,” Ray told her. “But they’re out there. A few of them, judging from the amount of tracks. We need to go right now.”
Two days ago Ray found the keys to the Chevy Suburban that was parked in the garage. He started the truck in the garage and it had fired right up. The gas gauge was almost full. He shut the SUV off and spent the next few hours packing the back of it with their supplies. He found two extra red plastic gas cans, one of which was already full. Mike had his backpack he used at school, and Ray found dark blue backpacks he and Emma could use; the backpacks would make carrying their stuff around a lot easier. They packed their extra clothes and supplies into the backpacks, and Ray shoved the small leather-bound notebook down into his backpack, the notebook in which he had jotted down the notes from Craig’s computer and the map to Avalon. He had also copied the map that Doug had drawn into the notebook. He had a map of West Virginia folded up and secured to the notebook with a few rubber bands.
He was glad he had packed the back of the Suburban already, now all they needed to do was grab their backpacks they had down here in the basement and leave.
“Here,” Mike told Emma as they were getting ready to leave. “I found these yesterday.”
“What are they?” she asked re
aching out for the objects in his hand.
“Books on tape and some CDs,” he told her. “I found them in the family room. I also found a CD player. It runs on batteries.”
“Thank you, Mike.”
“Come on,” Ray told them. “Get your shoes on. We need to go.”
Mike waited beside the couch, his backpack still down by his feet. Ray looked at him and he could tell his son wasn’t ready for this. Mike had been brave about leaving up until now, until the moment they really had to do it.
“It’s okay, Mike,” Ray told him, giving him a quick hug. “We’re going to make it. You believe me, don’t you?”
Mike nodded.
“Can’t hear your head rattle,” Emma said with a smile.
Mike barked out a nervous laugh. “Yeah. I’m ready.”
“Okay,” Ray said. He told them to wait there as he went to the foot of the stairs with his backpack on and his flashlight in his hand. The basement was gloomy, but even with the curtains over the windows there was enough light down here to see. But the stairwell was even darker.
Ray made his way up the stairwell. He heard Mike helping Emma get to the bottom of the stairs below him. Ray turned the doorknob gently and opened the door. He stepped out of the doorway and listened for a moment. He heard a screeching sound from somewhere outside, then a hollering answer to it.
The rippers were already out there.
He jumped when he heard a slamming sound from somewhere deep in the house, and then he heard what sounded like breaking glass. It sounded like some of the rippers were breaking in through one of the bedroom windows.
Mike had helped Emma up the stairs, and they stepped out of the doorway.
“Come on,” Ray whispered to them. “We need to be quiet. I think one of them might be getting inside the house.”
They followed Ray to the laundry room door, and he motioned for them to stay there by the door. “I’m going to check the laundry room and garage,” he whispered to them.
Ray entered the laundry room. He ducked down and hurried over to the washer and dryer in front of the door. He peeked up over the dryer and looked out through the panes of glass in the door.
A group of rippers were huddled near their SUV, a few of them inspecting it, but other rippers were on their way towards the garage doors, moving out of his view from the window. The group consisted of five men and three women, no children. They were all filthy, their clothes torn and stained, their faces splattered with what looked like mud, but it could have been blood. Two of them weren’t wearing shoes, but the cold didn’t seem to bother them even though the temperature had to be a little below freezing out there.
Ray kept low and remained still. He didn’t want to move and catch their attention. He was pretty sure they probably couldn’t see through the windows because of the daylight out there, but he didn’t want to take any chances.
The rippers hadn’t come back from the garage doors, and the other two who had been sniffing around their SUV hurried over to join them. Maybe they were waiting by the door and staying out of the freezing wind, or maybe they were trying to find a way in. There were probably more rippers all around the house, looking for a way inside. Ray thought about the two windows in the garage with the blinds over them, and how easy they would be to break into.
How was he going to open the garage door if the rippers were in front of it? He wouldn’t have time to jump back into the SUV before they rushed him. And even before he opened the door, the rippers would hear the SUV when he started the engine.
Maybe it would be better if they went back down to the basement. Maybe they could wait out the rippers for a day or two, until they moved on. But if other rippers were breaking into the bedrooms right now, then this house was going to be full of rippers within minutes, and eventually they would break down the flimsy door to the basement.
For a moment Ray was paralyzed with indecision as he crouched down behind the dryer, staring at the door that led to the garage. He thought he’d been ready for this. He thought he’d made all of the necessary preparations, but everything was turning to shit in seconds now.
Need to think. Need to make a decision.
“Dad,” Mike whispered.
Ray jumped, turning towards the laundry room door. Mike and Emma had crawled into the room and shut the door, locking it. Mike was crawling across the floor to him now.
At least he was keeping low.
“Mike,” Ray hissed at him. “What are you doing? I told you two to stay put.”
Mike took his backpack off and opened it, rummaging through it. He pulled out a string of firecrackers.
“What the hell are you doing?” Ray asked him.
“I found these in the garage when I was looking for the hammer.”
Ray didn’t understand what Mike was doing, and for a few seconds he thought his son might be losing it, his mind finally snapping under the pressure.
“We can use these,” Mike said, his voice a little louder now. “There’s a lot more of them in the garage. They’re in a bag on a shelf in there. Bottle rockets and fireworks.”
Suddenly it dawned on Ray what Mike was suggesting.
“Remember when we were at Emma’s place?” Mike said. “Remember when that guy from the other building was shooting at them?”
“The sound of gunshots startled them,” Ray finished for Mike. “They were scared of the gunfire.”
“We could set these off somewhere,” Mike said.
“And create a diversion,” Ray finished.
CHAPTER 43
The three of them entered the garage after Ray peeked inside to make sure none of the rippers had broken in through the windows.
“The bag is over there on that shelf,” Mike whispered to Ray.
“I’ll get it in a minute,” he told Mike. He pointed at the SUV, herding Mike and Emma there. Ray gestured at them to get into the truck. Emma got in the back seat and Mike sat down in the passenger seat—Ray would need Mike in the passenger seat for his plan to work.
If it would work.
“Dad,” Mike said as Ray was about to leave.
“Just wait here for a minute,” Ray whispered at him. “I’ll be right back. We’ll be okay. We’re survivors, remember?”
Mike nodded, but his eyes were dinner plates of fear.
Ray hurried over to the shelves and found the paper bag of fireworks.
A moment later Ray hurried through the laundry room and then he was in the kitchen. He froze for a moment, listening for more sounds in the house. He couldn’t hear anything as he stood in the kitchen, nothing from inside the house anyway. Maybe the noise he’d heard earlier was outside, or maybe he had imagined it.
He darted into the living room and crouched down in front of one of the windows that looked out onto the same side of the house that the garage doors were on. He emptied the paper bag onto the floor. Ray wasn’t a fireworks expert, but these seemed like mild fireworks to him, and they seemed pretty self-explanatory—just light the fuse and watch it go.
He had two lighters with him in case one of them didn’t work. He peeked out through the blinds to make sure there weren’t any rippers right outside the window.
None that he could see at the moment—they were probably still by the garage.
Ray raised the wooden blinds and then slid the window up; the colder air drifted in. He used a razor knife to cut the screen away and then lined up the bottle rockets and fireworks on the window sill. He flicked the lighter and lit the fuses.
A ripper was coming. Ray glanced up at the window and saw what used to be a middle-aged man running towards him with wild eyes, a growl rumbling in his throat.
It was taking forever for the fuses to burn down to the rockets.
The ripper was at the window. He seemed ready to dive in at Ray, but he stopped at the last second, staring down at the burning and hissing fuses, backing up like he was unsure about the flames, scared for just a moment. It was like these rippers had a natural fear of any
kind of fire.
But Ray knew the fuses weren’t going to hold the ripper back too much longer. Ray took off running through the living room. By the time he reached the kitchen he heard more crashing noises from the other side of the house—a ripper was definitely inside the house now, somewhere back in the bedrooms; there were probably a few of them inside the house by now.
He got into the laundry room and closed the door. He twisted the lock on the doorknob. Maybe the locked door would slow them down for a few seconds. The bottle rockets and fireworks were going off now, all of them at once. It was startlingly loud even from inside the laundry room. Maybe those fireworks were more powerful than he had assumed. He didn’t bother staying low as he hurried across the laundry room to the door that led out to the garage. He saw a blur of movement outside the window over the sink—the group of rippers was running towards the sound of the fireworks.
But was it all of them? Had all of the rippers moved away from the garage doors?
He couldn’t tell. Maybe a few of them had stayed behind.
But he didn’t want to think about that. He didn’t want to think about anything that would slow him down right now. More and more rippers were outside, and some of them were in the house now. They couldn’t go back down to the basement; they couldn’t do anything except get in the SUV and try to leave. It was now or never.
Ray was inside the garage in a flash. He closed that door and ran down the aisle between the two vehicles. The blinds over the garage windows still looked undisturbed. He opened the driver’s door of the Chevy Suburban and the dome light came on. Emma was in the back seat, her body tense. Mike stared at him from the passenger seat.
“Now, Dad?” Mike asked.
“Not yet,” he told him. He turned the key in the ignition and the SUV fired right up, the engine running.
Ray left the driver’s door open and ran to the garage door. He pulled down on the handle of the rope so that he could lift up the door manually. He lifted the door open and daylight flooded the garage.