by Maxey, Phil
A part of her liked the changes. It would make dealing with this new version of the world easier. She could kick ass. Maybe join whatever new version of the police that was created… But the downside was, if… or when people discovered she was related to what roamed the streets and cities, would they accept her? Want to be around her?
She sighed again. Once the nightmare was over and her family was safe, maybe she would leave them. Find a place of her—
The boards outside the living door creaked. She tracked the boots and paws along the highway and into the kitchen where the external door opened briefly. Throwing her sheet to the side, she quietly got up, turned, moved around a modest coffee table and stood at the window, pulling the drape back.
The strange old man, shotgun in one hand, flowers in the others, with his dog, was walking along a gravel path, across the lawn. She watched him for a few seconds before he moved out of view.
“What you looking at?” whispered Tye. Almost making her jump.
“Nothing. Go back to sleep.”
“I can’t sleep.” He coughed. “I think I’m coming down with a cold.”
“You’ll be fine.” She moved away from the window, crouching while putting her boots back on. Tye stood up. “No… stay here,” she whispered again.
“What’s happening?” said Josh, his eyes still closed.
“Nothing. Go back to sleep,” said Sam.
Tye quickly slid his feet in his sneakers.
Sam sighed. “Fine, but stay close to me.” She opened the living room door and crept out into the hallway, the boy close behind, then closed it just after glimpsing her brother turn over.
The house was empty, the only other heartbeats being Tye’s and Josh’s. A strange thought jumped into her head, which she instantly dismissed.
What if the old man’s done something to Meg? Maybe’s he’s a—
Tye coughed again.
She frowned, moving into the kitchen and poured a glass of water, handing it to him. “Drink.” As he did she looked out the kitchen window. There was no sign of Meg, but through the bushes and trees at the back of the small square of garden she could see Rufus, standing, looking down at something.
Shit…
“What you looking at?” said Tye, trying to see over the counter and window seal.
She picked up her jacket which was hanging on the wall and moved to the kitchen door. “You stay here, okay?”
He shook his head. “I’m scared. I want to—” He coughed. “— with you.”
She hadn’t time for an argument. She pulled his coat from the hook and passed it to him, he quickly putting it on and both walked outside into the morning frost. She thought about going back to the room for the gloves, but if Rufus had done something to Meg she needed to know as soon as possible. She looked back at the boy. “Stay close. You got that?” He nodded. “If something bad happens. Run back here. Get Josh and then get away. Okay?” He nodded again. She let out a breath which became a puff of white mist and then jogged over the hard muddy ground, through an already open gate and onto the path she had seen the old man travel minutes before.
The land around his home was mostly flat, with groups of trees and patches of sodden grass.
As they got closer to him, they crouched, trying to see through the branches.
“What’s he doing?” said Tye.
She could see him standing, his hands in front of him, his weapon on the ground. Both he and the dog were looking at the same point just a few feet away, but because of the trunks and foliage she couldn’t quite see. “I don’t know…”
The dog whipped around and started barking, making her and Tye drop even lower.
“Who’s out there?” said Rufus, picking up his gun.
“Shit,” said Sam, hoping the thicket of branches was enough to shield them both from being seen.
“Should we run?”
Syd continued his barking.
“Hey, if there’s someone in that copse, you better come out, or I’m going to start firing these double barrels!”
Sam frowned then stood. She looked down to Tye. “Stay hidden. If this goes the wrong way, do what I said.” He nodded and she stepped forward, walking over the bramble and twigs, emerging out of the trees and immediately regretting her decision to follow the old man.
He lowered his weapon. “Hmm. Spying on me, eh?” Sam’s awkwardness turned his frown into a smile. He turned to the small, curved, flat headstone and the pots of flowers around it. “Meet Grace.” Before Sam could say anything he continued. “Grace, meet Sam.”
“Um… hi.”
He waved her towards him. “Come.”
She walked over the faded grass to the grave. A glass framed, oval photo of a forty something woman with kind eyes and a big smile, sat against one of the pots. Sam looked at the man next to her who was still looking at the photo. “I’m sorry for your loss…”
He looked back at her. “Oh, it was a long time ago I lost her. After I left the church, we bought this place, out here in the middle of nowhere.” He looked at the mist-covered hedgerows and fields as Syd started to bark again. “Had some good years, and then… Be quiet, Syd. There was no monster.” He glanced at the teenager with a brief smile. “Then, I continued the business alone. She wanted to be buried here, said this was her home. It will be the same for…”
Sam looked at him, waiting for him to finish and not wanting to seem impolite. It took a few seconds for her brain to register his expression, diluted pupils, thundering heart beat and the fact that he was raising his shotgun towards her while Syd’s incessant barking had become a growl.
“Get out of the way!” he shouted, while pushing her to the side.
She almost fell against the headstone, her relief that she wasn’t his target only lasting as long as it took for her to shift her view to the small group of trees she had been hiding in. Tye staggered towards them, except… it wasn’t the boy she reluctantly took with her. Tye had been replaced. In that moment her mind split between terror and grief while words stumbled from her lips. “Immu…”
The thing let out a screech, as multiple arms sprung from its chest, its once youthful features deformed into something ancient as it scurried towards them. As if time slowed, Sam looked back to the former preacher, seeing the coils of smoke rise from the end of the shotgun barrels before the deafening booms reached her mind.
CHAPTER FIVE
9: 32 a.m. Highway 35.
Landon placed the slim piece of metal into the tiny gap between the glass and the car’s door frame, then pushed down, shifting its position as he went. There was a clunk and the plastic nob on the inside of the mid-80s sedan sprung up. He immediately pulled the handle, opening the door and sat inside, pulling it closed, trying to ignore the pain shooting into his shoulder. The interior was in good condition considering the car’s age and a hint of lavender hung in the air. The wooden dashboard gleamed as did the plastic inlaid dials and the leather seats were hardly worn.
He looked in the rear mirror at the open barn door just a few feet beyond the trunk.
It was in there…
No doubt a getaway car for the apocalypse which was never used. It was a shame that during his brief search inside the house no keys showed up. He looked back outside through the specks of rain falling on the windows and further to the gray skies and faded fields and trees.
Where are you, Meg…
He switched his view to the house and its sleeping occupants, one of which he was putting his hopes on. But he needed another way into the box if Arlo failed to get it open. He looked back at the rear mirror and the shadows residing in the barn, then pushed the car door open to a chill wind and a rush of rain. Closing it, he jogged to the barn, immediately sniffing the air. Apart from the smell of hay and grease there was nothing to put him on edge so he moved to the wall of tools, examining each, looking for… he almost kicked the solid metal of a propane tank. It was already attached to a pipe which led all the way to a blow torch sitting
on the workbench. He picked it up, looking it over.
Could work…
The only issue was how many bottles would he lose in melting through the external surface. Holding the torch well away, he pulled the trigger. There was a click and a yellow flame quickly turned cobalt blue. He let go and placed it back on the bench. There was no way of knowing how much fuel was left in the tank, but time had run out for Arlo. If he was ever going to get it open it would need to happen within the next hour, before they were back on the road and the option of cutting into the box was gone. He almost didn’t hear the footsteps, the rain on the tin roof was so hard.
Tracey walked over to a hammer, rubbing her thumb over its rusting surface, then looked at the array of items hanging on nails. “I think I’ve found my home.”
Landon smiled. “I don’t think anyone would object, if you wanted to stay…” He quickly realized how it sounded.
“Yeah, I’m not the most popular in our little group.”
“I didn’t mean it like that. I mean this place is empty. It’s got land, a well. It’s pretty remote…”
She nodded, putting the hammer back down. “Maybe…” She turned to him. “But then I wouldn’t get to see how your story turns out, and for better or worse, I feel… invested.”
“It must be—”
She shook her head. “They got what they deserved. If they had stayed gone they would still be alive… well maybe. But no, Jay and pa had to come back to Isiah and spill the beans. And look what it got them.” She sighed. “I know it seemed I was angry when they left me, but I was kinda relieved. I had been looking for an out for a while. That’s why I was happy to run away from Isiah’s little cult… I just hoped Jay and pa would, oh I dunno, realize the world had ended? Maybe find a place like this, make a go of it?” She looked away. “The world changed, but they hadn’t… Clint was always looking for the next grift…”
“Give the others time. Brad seems good people.” He noticed a flicker of a smile. “Ah, its like that, is it?”
Her smile grew then quickly extinguished on seeing the young man in question jogging across the muddied gravel towards the barn. He grimaced as he swiped the wet from his hair.
“What is it?” said Landon.
“The box is open…”
Landon ran past the messenger, whose words quickly became dissolved by the sheets of rain pounding the ground and ran up the steps, into the house and into the living room. All eyes quickly shifted from the empty blue box to him. “Where are the bottles?” he said to Arlo. He desperately looked across the coffee table, then chairs and back to the older man.
“There weren’t any, it was empty…”
Landon lunged forward, snatching the box, turning it over. “But… that makes no sense.”
“It wasn’t even properly locked. It just came open when I tried the latch…”
Brad appeared in the doorway to the hallway. “I’m sorry, Landon. Isiah probably lied. He needed to convince your wife to… save him.”
Landon shook his head. “But he had the bottles, we saw them in the courtroom.” He switched his gaze to the young woman standing by Brad. “Did Jay or Clint open it?”
“I… I don’t know. I didn’t see them do that, but they could have… I guess…”
He felt sick, reaching for the nearest chair and sat heavily, placing the box on the table.
“They could have gotten the code from Isiah,” said Arlo. “Maybe they overheard or something, they seemed pretty sneaky.” He looked at Tracey. “No offence.” She didn’t react.
Landon tried thinking through what must have happened. “They knew someone might come for the box… so they took… the bottles… out…” His eyes grew large, his mouth dropping open. He looked at the young woman again. “Your car!”
Before the second word left his lips, he was running out of the room, then house, down the steps and pulled the door open to the beat up car they traveled there in. The inside was a mess of food packets and bottles which he awkwardly threw to the side with his one good hand then looked in the pockets on the back of the seats, while the others gathered in the rain outside. “They got to be here… got to be…” He hadn’t bothered looking in the glove department, because… well that would be too obvious, but then it was Jay and Clint. He punched the plastic lid which dropped immediately. The interior was dark, but even in the gloom something glinted in the limited light. He reached in and pulled out a tiny glass bottle of clear liquid, then backed out of the car, a smile across his face, a tear running down his cheek and looked at the others.
“Yeah!” said Arlo, punching the air.
*****
10: 42 a.m. Highway 63.
Meg stood in front of the fresh mound of dirt that was already being erased by the icy particles falling from the sky. “I should have been here… But there were no vehicles, I had to walk miles to find some with fuel…” The shock of what transpired an hour or so earlier took Meg a few minutes to accept as reality when she got back. It was only after searching Rufus’s house, while Sam was screaming at her and Josh was crying that she realized what she had been told was true. The young boy had changed.
Sam sniffed, wiping away an almost frozen tear. “There was nothing…” Images of what Tye had become pushed into her brain with a wave of nausea. She swallowed. “You could have done. It… happened… quickly.”
Rufus bent down, placing a small wooden cross with the word ‘Tye’ etched into it, at the top of the mound.
“I didn’t even know…” Meg’s throat tightened as her own tears fell from her eyes. “His surname… I knew nothing about him. I thought… there would be time…” She shook her head, looking at the girl next to her. “He was immune!”
Sam nodded, silently.
Meg let out a breath, turning away from the grave. “So, does this mean, people aren’t immune? That everyone will change at some point?”
“Without the vaccine… yeah.”
Meg glanced at the older man. “I’m sorry, I know it must be hard to hear that you will change at some point…”
He nodded. “Maybe it’s different for everyone. Most changed quick, some… it takes longer.”
“Without the vaccine… We…” Sam started sobbing.
Meg walked to her, hugging her close. “I know… All we can do is hope your mother finds—”
Sam pulled away, pushing off the older woman. “How! How will she find us? We’re—” she spun around, her arms stretched out. “In the middle of fucking nowhere!”
“I might be able to help you with finding your mother, or her find you…”
They both looked at him.
“What do you mean? How?” said Meg.
He turned, gesturing towards the tower that sat behind his home. “Used to be a halfway station for the truckers. I’d help pass on messages across distances their kit couldn’t manage. If you don’t mind using some of that fuel you found for the generator rather than on my truck, we can put out a message that will cover a good distance…”
CHAPTER SIX
11: 01 a.m. Highway 35.
Landon looked at the eight bottles, one already empty, its contents inside him then to the large unfolded map, laid flat on the good-sized table.
“Boy, am I glad I didn’t need to get that box open,” said Arlo. “Because… I don’t think I could have done it.”
Both men were seated in the large country kitchen. Bangs, knocks and shouts reverberated across the two-story house.
Landon, his eyes still on the map, snorted. “I was going to use the blow torch I found in the barn. Would have probably destroyed them all…” He traced his finger from where he thought they were, along the routes to the southeast.
Tracey appeared in the doorway. “Can I take my half of the bottles? I’m packing everything into the car.” Landon nodded and she collected three, placing them in her pockets and walked into the hallway, just as one of the bedroom doors closed upstairs and heavy feet came down the steps.
“Ca
n’t we stay any longer?” said Agatha to her, waiting at the bottom.
“You know we can’t. Meg and the other kids need the vaccine. Now come on, get in the car.”
“Can I go in the old one?” said Toby.
Tracy looked down the hallway to Landon in the kitchen. He nodded. “Yup.”
“Cool!” He ran outside.
“And me!” shouted Helen, following.
“Splitting up is a good idea,” said Landon to Arlo. “But it only works if we both don’t get lost on the way to Rockston.”
Arlo nodded. “With stops to search along the way, I’m thinking three, maybe four hours to get there. So…” He looked at his watch. “We should both be there around late afternoon.”
Landon nodded. “Sounds good.” He picked up the remaining bottles and placed them in the blue box, then placed it in his pack. Arlo did the same with the map and both left the kitchen. Landon was the first to hear Brad’s voice from outside. He walked to the open front door.
The young man was standing near Tracey’s car with one of the radios from the superstore in his hand, a light rain falling from above. “Hello? Can you hear me? Over?”
Landon Jogged to him as Arlo closed the house’s door. “You’re hearing someone?”
Brad nodded. “Yeah, but I don’t think they can—”
Static burst from the radio along with broken words from a woman in panic. “We’re… more… anyone? Need… soon…” Brad handed the radio to Landon.
“We can hear you. This is Landon. What is your location? Over.”
“Yes!… help… soon… Hofner… creatures…”
Arlo already had the map out again, sprayed across the hood. “Hofner is south of here. Just a few minutes’ drive.”