by Jack Hunt
Ryan pulled up close to the entrance and scrutinized the building. He wanted to be sure that it was safe to venture in before killing the engine. Heavy dark clouds drifted overhead as the sun dipped behind the horizon.
As Stephen and his family climbed out, they talked quietly among themselves, keeping their distance. Lily took hold of Ryan’s hand as they cautiously approached the entrance. Off to the right was a line of gasoline pumps. It had to be the most pumps he’d seen at one gas station in his life. There had to be at least a hundred. Pump handles were dangling beside the machines. There was yellow tape blowing in the wind. It had been wrapped around some of the pumps to indicate that it was out of order.
If that wasn’t clear enough, huge red and white signs had been posted high up to alert travelers that the station was out of gas.
Glass crunched beneath their boots as they stepped inside.
It was a mess. Buc-ee’s was classed as one of the largest convenience stores in America. It sold snacks and drinks, clothes, hats, hot food, knives, barbecues, and almost anything else through to pet accessories. Unlike town grocery stores, this wasn’t completely empty, probably due to how far away it was from the nearest town. It was out of the way, out of sight, and due to its size and the way the pathogen was spreading, it would have been one of the last places people would have entered. Survivors steered clear of crowds. Convenience didn’t equate essentials and most of what was offered here was packaged junk food.
Sweatshirts lined the floors, covered in dirty footprints. Shelving blocked aisles, and snacks, trinkets, and gifts were everywhere. “Hello!” Stephen shouted.
“You want to keep it down?” Ryan said.
“Just wanted to check if anyone was here.”
Each of them broke away exploring the inside, picking up items, opening snacks, and collecting bottled water. Much of it was gone but in a store this size, it would have taken a lot of people to empty it. Lily hurried over to the wall to try the drink machine. She pulled out a cup and filled it up at the automatic dispenser. It worked.
“It’s good. Try it,” she said, offering Ryan some.
The floor was sticky. Ryan waved her off as he ventured further in. She caught up with him and stayed close. He could tell she was afraid. They all were. Over the following hour, they perused shelves, ate, filled their bags with items.
The store wasn’t entirely empty of people. There were others like them. He found them near the back. Two teenagers and a mother. There was a second of hesitation. He thought they might run toward him, but they didn’t. They backed up and exited via a side door. Not everyone was infected but people were desperate. Hungry. Thirsty. Worried about the future.
As it darkened inside the store, they used lanterns and flashlights from the store to illuminate the aisles. Lily had found some books to read, and Josh was sitting cross-legged beside her, browsing a magazine. All he wanted for them was to relax.
Ryan stood a good distance away. He’d found a couple of cans of beer inside a refrigerator. He cracked one open and downed it fast.
Ren approached. “Is there one in there for me?”
“You’re seventeen.”
She chuckled. “You don’t know much about teenagers, do you?” She reached in and collected a light beer and cracked it open.
“I know enough.”
“Mind if I sit?” she asked.
“As long as you keep your distance.”
She smiled, taking a swig and slipping down with the refrigerator behind her. “You don’t believe me, do you?”
“Does it matter what I believe?”
She pulled a face and shrugged. “I guess not. Look, I appreciate what you did back there. I just wanted to say thank you.”
“Don’t thank me. Thank Josh.”
She looked over at his kids, and he followed her gaze.
“Still. If you hadn’t returned. I don’t know what that group would have done to us.”
“Well, you’re safe now.”
“Right.” She nodded, looking back at Josh. “So your wife asked you to take them to Florida. What happened?”
“She died.”
“I mean, why did you get divorced?”
She had no idea. He’d been asked that question many times over the last ten years and he’d always been elusive in his answer. There was too much pain associated with the way it ended and if he told the truth, it would have opened a Pandora’s box of questions that he wasn’t ready to answer. So instead, he would say that they fell out of love. It wasn’t the truth. He never stopped loving Elizabeth.
“Oh, you know, we drifted apart,” he replied.
“My parents nearly did. I’m surprised they stayed together so long. They always fought. It was over stupid things. Small things. They were always so self-centered. Even when this event unfolded. But not you.”
“Ren, you don’t know me.”
“Maybe not but actions speak volumes.”
Ryan began coughing, uncontrollably. He took out the rag from his pocket and coughed into it. Ren studied him. Although he cupped his hand around the rag, she caught sight of the specks of blood.
“How long you had it?”
He wiped his lips then pocketed the rag. “I’m not infected.”
“I didn’t say you were.”
He didn’t respond.
“Cancer, right? My uncle had it. One hell of a way to go.”
He stared back then nodded.
“How far along?”
“Stage four. Lung cancer.”
“How long you got?”
“Less than a year.”
Ren eyed Josh and Lily across the room. His son had an arm around Lily. He must have told her a joke as she started to laugh. Josh glanced over and the smile faded.
“Do they know?”
He shook his head.
“Are you going to tell them?”
“When I’m ready.”
Ren took another swig. She nodded as if she understood. “So, you think another day and we’ll reach the coast. Do you know much about these boats? Are they staying out on the water?”
“Not sure exactly. There was mention of using some island as a safe zone.”
“For someone intent on keeping his kids safe, you certainly are taking a gamble heading there. What if it doesn’t work out? What then?”
“I’ll figure that out if and when it happens. And Ren…”
“Yeah?”
“This conversation.”
“I won’t say anything.”
He nodded. She walked off, leaving him to ponder how and when he would tell them. Eventually, he’d have to come clean but by then he hoped they would be with their grandparents. He’d been out of their life for so long that the impact wouldn’t be as hard as it had been for him. His mind drifted back to the past, to when the symptoms first showed up. The cough that wouldn’t go away, the chest infection that kept coming back, breathing difficulty, a lack of energy. He’d visited the doctor thinking it was minor, pneumonia perhaps.
It wasn’t.
When the bomb dropped, his mind went blank.
No one prepared a person to hear that kind of news.
The doc had said it was the result of exposure to second-hand smoke but he had to wonder if it wasn’t the result of the stress he’d been under. “How long, Doc?”
“Five years if you’re lucky.”
He’d gone through chemotherapy and radiation therapy and for a while, he felt they were making progress when it went into remission.
That changed a year later when the pain returned and it had metastasized. It was then he was told he had one year and to get his affairs in order.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
July 9
The next morning, Ryan bolted upright. He gasped, his heart thrumming in his chest. Eyes wide open, he noticed Lily was tucked inside her sleeping bag in the same spot he’d left her but Josh wasn’t beside her. “Josh,” he said. “Josh!”
“I’m here.”
“What time is it?”
“Just after nine,” Josh answered.
He groaned, squeezing the bridge of his nose with a thumb and finger. “Why didn’t you wake me sooner?”
“Because I figured you needed the extra sleep. You can’t function well on a few hours, especially if you won’t let me drive.”
Josh handed him a bottle of water. “Thanks. You should wake your sister. We need to leave soon.” As he crossed the room, Ryan downed the water, bringing his senses back to life. As he sat there taking in his surroundings, his gaze roamed the room.
“Josh, where’s Stephen?”
“He went to the washroom.”
Ryan twisted.
“But they’re locked.”
“The other one farther down.”
He nodded and got up and stretched out his arms, releasing the tension gained from the hard ground. Ryan ran a hand around the back of his neck, snagged up a packet of peanuts off the ground, and made his way to the bathroom to splash some water and relieve himself. Rays of bright sunshine shone in through the skylight, spreading warmth throughout. He could tell it was going to be another hot one. Easily soaring into the high eighties.
The previous night, Stephen and his family had kept to themselves. He’d watched them come and go. Keen to know more about them and the lunatics they’d encountered, he’d thrown a few questions at them. Nothing invasive. Nothing that made it seem like he was grilling them. But he could tell Stephen didn’t appreciate it. He’d exited the station, said he needed a smoke. While he wasn’t a big talker, his wife was. She opened up to them. He soon learned they were longtime residents of Wiggins, Louisiana. They’d been a part of the snake-handling church and explained that to onlookers it was crazy but to them, it was just what they believed.
When the event kicked off, their pastor said it was a sign from God. A test of their faith. If God protected them from serpents and even swallowing poison, would he not do the same again? Apparently so. After being in contact with someone who had the pathogen, they’d felt that God had chosen them to handle the infected. That they were God’s chosen ones, and he was like some kind of Noah. It was messed up and she lost Ryan at some point in the conversation as it went over his head.
Eventually, she stopped and said it was hard for people to understand.
She never argued with him and it was obvious why.
They didn’t want to rock the boat or overstep the line.
Being stranded out here was better than the hell hole he’d pulled them out of, but still, with the hope of refuge before them, it was easier to stay in their lane than make life difficult.
Ryan sniffed hard as he made his way into the bathroom.
There was a ladies’ room to the right, and the men’s room was to the left. He pushed through the door to find Stephen pulling down his shirt in front of the mirror. He had multiple paper towels balled up in the sink.
“Morning,” Ryan said, crossing to the urinal.
Stephen turned the faucet on and splashed water over his face. “Sleep okay?”
“Wasn’t the Hilton, that’s for sure.”
Stephen chuckled. “Figured I’d have a wash. Haven’t had one in days.”
“I hear ya.” Ryan zipped up his pants and went to the far sink to do the same. “Listen, I know we didn’t get off on the right foot. It’s just…”
“I understand. You can’t be too careful.”
“That’s right.”
Stephen tossed the paper towels into the garbage and ran his hands under the dryer. It let out a loud hum. “That’s me. See you out there.”
“We’ll leave in ten.”
“Got it.”
With his hands and face wet, Ryan pulled several paper towels out of the dispenser. He ran them over his face and went to toss them into the trash below when he noticed something. He squinted and lifted the paper towel he’d put in and his eyes widened.
Ryan dashed for the door, swinging it open just in time to see Stephen strolling off.
He pulled his handgun from the back of his pants and held it with both hands lifted.
“Hold up.” Stephen continued walking. “Stop!”
Stephen froze.
“Turn around.”
They were far enough away that the others wouldn’t have heard him. The second washrooms were on the west side, around a corner. Slowly Stephen turned. “Is there a problem?”
“You tell me,” Ryan replied.
“I have no idea.”
“Don’t lie.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Inside the washroom. Those paper towels. There’s blood on them.”
“I cut myself, shaving.”
“Bullshit. Lift your top.”
“Why?”
“Don’t make me ask again.”
“This is ridiculous. I’m immune.”
Ryan nudged the gun forward to make it clear he wasn’t messing around.
Stephen clenched his eyes together as he lifted his shirt to reveal a large rash on the side of his stomach.
“Immune?” Ryan asked.
“I was going to tell you eventually.”
“Yeah, when? In the middle of the night while I was sleeping? Huh?”
“It’s not like that. I wouldn’t ever do that.”
“That’s what everyone says until they get it.”
“I didn’t go anywhere near you.”
“That’s because my kid was awake watching you.”
“Did you go near your family?”
“No. I stayed clear.”
Ryan squinted, his brow furrowing. “Why wouldn’t you if they were immune?”
He’d caught him in a lie. Stephen dropped his head.
“Do they know?”
He shook his head.
“You lied to me,” Ryan said.
“No, I didn’t.” He put a hand out and moved forward.
“Don’t come any closer. You told us you were immune.”
“In the eyes of the church we are,” Stephen replied.
“You’re making no sense.”
“Look, it happened last night. Okay?”
Ryan offered back a confused expression. His mind skirted back to the previous evening.
“It was outside. Having a smoke. I was taking a piss. My back was turned. I didn’t see the guy. He came out of nowhere.” He stared back. “I’m telling the truth. Look, Ryan, I can keep my distance from the others.”
“I’m afraid you can’t do that.”
“Please.”
Ryan shook his head. “What about your wife and child?”
“They think they’re immune.”
“Obviously,” Ryan snapped back. He couldn’t tell what was true anymore. “Why were you all in that room?” He waited for an answer.
“I told you.”
“You lied to me. I want the truth or I leave your family here.”
“I told you the truth.”
“You lied!”
Stephen dropped his chin. He sighed and took a seat. Without looking at Ryan, he replied. “We were to be tested, a trial to see whose faith was strong. Douglas, our pastor, told us that God had told him that this event was a weeding out of the righteous from the wolves. Any not affected by a snake bite would be considered immune. We were to be tested.”
“What a crock of crap.”
“No, it’s true. All of us were to be tested. If the snake bite didn’t affect us, we’d be released.”
“And if it did?”
�
�What do you think?”
Ryan ran a hand over his head.
“So your wife and child were bitten but you weren’t.”
“No.”
“I’m not sure what to believe.”
“I’m telling the truth.”
“And yet you lied to me.”
“Because I wanted to get my family to safety. The pastor had lost it. I didn’t agree. Many of us didn’t. I wanted to get away from that group. Is that hard to grasp? You’re trying to do the same thing for yours.” Stephen groaned. He knew he couldn’t talk his way out of this. One lie marred any other answer he gave. “I know it’s too late for me but don’t leave my family behind, Ryan. Please. Take them with you.”
“If they’re infected they’re not going.”
“Check them. Do they look like they’ve aged? Are they showing any symptoms?”
“I haven’t asked.”
“Do it. If that’s what determines whether they go or don’t. Do it.”
“You know what you’re asking me to do.”
“They will do it. If I tell them.”
He pondered it for a moment or two before nudging him to walk toward the group. “If you’re right, I’ll take them but if they are showing any rash or any sign of aging, they’re staying. And if you attempt to get near me or anyone I will put you down where you stand. You understand?”
He nodded. He walked a good twenty feet ahead of Ryan. As soon as they came into view, all eyes went on Ryan who was aiming his gun at the back of Stephen.
“Stephen? What’s going on?” Madeline asked, moving toward him
“Stay right there, Madeline,” Ryan said. “He’s infected.”
“That’s impossible. We’re immune.”
“We’re not, Madeline,” Stephen said.
She wore a confused expression. “What?”
He lifted his top for her to see. It was one thing to explain, another to show the proof.
Madeline looked beside herself with worry and confusion. “But you told me. The pastor told us.”
“He told us a lot of things. There is no immunity. It was a lie.”
