The Upheaval

by Erica Stevens

  "I don't even know what day it is," Riley assured her. "But it has been weeks since the beginning. I'm Riley, that's Mary Ellen, Xander, Josh, Carl, and Al. How long have you been here?"

  Nancy's eyes remained distrustful as they slid over each person Riley introduced. Her gaze lingered on Al, and Riley didn't miss the fact that she moved closer to the older man. If Nancy believed Al was the weakest of them because of his age, or the most easily taken advantage of, she was in for a shock.

  "Days, I think," Nancy replied.

  Riley sat back on her heels as Nancy's eyes took on a glazed look. Her hand dropped down by her side and she edged further away from them. Riley didn't try to stop her. Judging by Nancy's tangled and matted blonde hair, torn clothing, and bruises on the exposed skin of her arms and neck, she'd been through a lot over the past few weeks.

  Nancy again dabbed at her eyes with the tissues before focusing on Riley and Mary Ellen. A noise in the hall drew Riley's attention to John stepping into the doorway. "Everything ok in here?" he demanded.

  Carl nodded and stepped out of the room with him. "Help me search the rest of the building; we have to get out of here soon."

  Riley turned back toward Nancy as she hiccupped again. "What happened to your family or friends?"

  Nancy's gaze focused on the wall behind Riley. "I was with my family for awhile, but I was on my own for a couple of days before arriving here. There were five of us left, myself, my brother and his wife, and my mom and dad. My younger sister was away at college when it started. We were trying to get to her in the city but we were jumped by some of those rabid humans." Her lower lip began to tremble as she tugged at her hair. "And now it's just me."

  "Where are you from?" Al inquired.

  "Plattsburg New York, it's near the Canadian border."

  "What was it like by you? Did the quakes cause a lot of damage?"

  "It wasn't so bad in the beginning," Nancy whispered. "Some homes were lost in the quakes and fires. Lake Champlain overflowed when parts of it were dammed up and new outlets were formed. Our area held up better than some of the others I've been through but then the sickness started. At first no one knew what was happening, but then people started changing. They stopped speaking or they started speaking gibberish. My best friend…"

  She shook her head and took a deep breath before continuing. "Well the gibberish and silence were the best part of it all. When they started turning on us things just became complete chaos. We'd been holding off on trying to get to my sister, certain that someone would come to help us, or that she would somehow get a hold of us. We were scared we would leave and she would be coming to us. When it became obvious things were only going to get worse we decided to try and get to her. We never made it. There are so many of those people out there, and so few of us."

  Riley touched Nancy's arm when fresh tears began to fall, but Nancy moved it away from her. Riley dropped her hand back to her side. "I'm sorry for your losses," she murmured.

  Nancy's eyes took on a haunted look, she seemed to stare right through Riley. "I can still hear their screams," she said with a shudder.

  Riley's skin crawled at those words. "Have you encountered any other, normal humans?" Xander asked.

  "Are any of us normal anymore?" Nancy muttered bitterly.

  "No, no we most certainly are not," Riley conceded.

  "I've encountered no one; it's just been me."

  Riley glanced at the small trunk Nancy had been curled inside of. Upon first entering the room, she hadn't considered the trunk big enough to hold a child, but Nancy was almost as tall as she was, a little heavier, and had somehow managed to cram herself inside it. She couldn't imagine the terror, or what Nancy had endured that had driven her to do such a thing.

  Riley didn't know what she would do if she was the last one standing, if she lost everyone else within this group. It was a bleak prospect that made her think she might even enjoy Peter's company at that point, though he'd probably feed her to the first hungry human they encountered.

  "You look like you could use some food," Al said kindly. Nancy's face became slack at the mention of food and she began to nod enthusiastically. "Josh, run out and grab some food and water. Let the others know everything is ok and to stay with the vehicles."

  The boy nodded and hurried from the room. "Thank you," Nancy whispered.

  "We don't have much," Al told her.

  "I've been soaking and crushing up acorns, I don't need much."

  Nancy looked nervously down at the frayed edges of her jean shorts; she absently began to play with one of the strings hanging from the edge. Bruises and scratches marred her legs but they were already beginning to fade and heal. Riley looked toward the others, they had no words either as they watched Nancy closely.

  "You know, when you opened that trunk I didn't know if I was relieved or terrified." Another tear slid down Nancy's face as she spoke, but she didn't wipe it away. "I thought, finally it's over, and at the same time I thought, I don't want to die. How insane is that?"

  "That's not insane," Riley assured her. "I think we've all experienced that same kind of reaction recently."

  Nancy lifted her head, her startling eyes latched onto Riley's as her full mouth parted. With a hairbrush and some soap she would be attractive. Her nose was a little too large and crooked, her mouth a little too wide for her to be considered beautiful, but there was something striking about her.

  Josh stepped back into the doorway and hurried over to them with a bottle of water and a bag of trail mix. "Mr. Dade wasn't too happy about this," he whispered to Riley when he knelt to give her the bag of food.

  "I don't freaking care what he's happy about," Riley responded in a low hiss.

  Josh's black eyes were troubled as they met hers but he released the bag to her and took a step away from Nancy. Fighting to keep her temper under control, Riley forced a smile and handed the bag to Nancy. The woman snagged it from her so fast that Riley barely had time to process that she wasn't holding the food anymore before Nancy was ripping the bag open and diving into it.

  "There's nothing else of use in the building," Carl said as he reappeared in the doorway. There hadn't been much they could use in the building to begin with, other than a duffel bag to pack future supplies into. John's eyes were riveted upon Nancy as she shoved another handful of nuts, raisins, and sunflowers into her mouth.

  Riley stared at Nancy and then at the others, she was uncertain what to do with her. They didn't know her, she didn't know if they should take the chance of inviting her to join them? Then again, the only person she'd known in this room only a short month ago was Xander. "You can come with us," Riley offered.

  No one protested her words and she didn't sense any displeasure in the people surrounding her. Nancy paused in the middle of shoving more food into her mouth. She studied all of them before swallowing. "Where are you going?"

  "Further upstate," Al answered. "A cabin in the Catskills, near Monticello."

  "I don't know that area," she said softly. "Until my sister went to college, I'd only left Plattsburg to cross the Canadian border." She wiped the tears from her eyes and shook her head. "Twenty-six years old and the only time I was brave enough to leave home was so I could drink at nineteen and buy cheaper booze."

  "We've all lost family and friends; we've all lost dreams and homes," Riley told her. "We've all seen things that none of us ever wanted to see and that will probably haunt us for the rest of our lives. You can either get up and come with us, or you can remain here and cry about it until some freakish monster shows up to eat you alive. That's a choice only you can make and we have to get back on the road."

  Riley was reluctant to leave her here but she rose to her feet and took a step away. "I'll be safe?" Nancy asked.

  "I can't promise you that, there's no way to know for sure. What I can promise you is that no one in this group will harm you." As soon as she uttered the words, she wondered if they were true. Her thoughts turned briefly to Peter.
/>   "We'll keep you as safe as possible," Carl said from the doorway. "But we're leaving, now."

  With that he turned on his heel. Riley heard his booted feet hitting the steps of the porch as he left the building. John hesitated in the doorway before turning to follow Carl. "The men won't hurt you, if that's what you're thinking," Mary Ellen said. "My twelve year old daughter is outside."

  "She's right," Xander said and slid his hand into Riley's. "You can ride with Al, Riley, and I."

  Nancy still looked uncertain as Riley took another step away. "We really have to go. Night comes so fast now," Al said kindly. "If you don't come with us, good luck to you. I think it would be best if you weren't alone." Al nodded toward the doorway and walked out with Mary Ellen and Josh.

  "Coming with us is better than being alone," Riley said as Xander tugged her toward the door. She tried not to look back, but she couldn't help but cast a glance over her shoulder at Nancy. She looked so lost sitting there in the middle of the room that it broke Riley's heart. Please come with us, she pleaded silently when they stepped onto the porch.

  Xander led her toward the car and opened the back door for her. The cat was curled up on the backseat; she lifted her head, gave an unladylike yawn, and plopped her head back down. "Is she coming?" Riley inquired.

  "Not yet," Xander answered. Riley grabbed hold of the roof and turned to look at the building, she willed Nancy to walk outside. She imagined she saw movement from within the building, as the shadows shifted and bunched over each other, but Nancy didn't appear in the doorway. "We have to go Ri."

  She heaved a heavy sigh before bowing her head and sliding into the backseat. Xander was about to close the door when Nancy shuffled onto the porch. She lifted her hand against the sky and winced away from the light. Riley climbed back out of the vehicle and took a step forward as the woman made her way cautiously down the stairs. Josh, Donald, and Mary Ellen gave her a little wave from the Caddy but Peter slid behind the wheel and slammed the door. Rochelle glanced at John who rested his hand on her shoulder and squeezed it reassuringly.

  Riley waved to Nancy as she stepped off the steps and walked toward them. Carl walked over to join them beside the car. "Do you have any weapons?" Al asked Nancy.

  Nancy glanced nervously over them before looking at Rochelle. "A knife," she admitted.

  Al nodded. "Don't get any ideas about using it on one of us."

  "I won't," she promised.

  "I'm going to ride in the back, Riley," Al told her.

  She started to protest and then closed her mouth. She really didn't want to be the one that had to shoot Nancy if she did try to attack one of them. Riley didn't think Nancy would do it, but she wasn't going to take any chances either. Riley discreetly kept her gun sitting in her lap when she settled into the passenger seat.

  "What's the cat's name?" Nancy asked as she sat beside the dozing feline.

  "I don't know," Riley answered. "We found her in a farm house a little while ago, but we haven't named her yet."

  "Hmm." Nancy lifted the cat from the backseat and settled it in her lap. The loud purring the cat emanated filled the car as Xander started it. Nancy actually began to smile while she scratched the cat's ears. "What about Spooky? I had a cat named Spooky once who looked just like this."

  Xander released a harsh bark of laughter. "I think that suits. She spooked the crap out of us the first time we encountered her."

  "I like it," Riley agreed. She couldn't help but smile as she turned to look at the mountains. Bobby may be gone, but maybe they had just saved someone else's life.

  CHAPTER 4

  Carl,

  Carl climbed out of the truck and stretched his back as he surveyed the bridge before them. Al had prepared them for the length of it, but even still he couldn't shake the crushing sense of doom creeping down his spine. The bridge had an end, of that much he was certain, but he couldn't see it. He didn't know if that was from the angle of the bridge or if it was simply too far away to see the end.

  His gaze drifted down to the immense river below the bridge, the mighty Hudson. He didn't know much about this area of New York. He didn't know much about New York at all, other than he hated their sports teams and they had good bagels, but he recalled this river from his history classes over the years, and the plane that had recently landed on it near the city.

  It looked relatively calm right now but the river was swollen with water. Maybe the torrential downpours they had experienced over the past few weeks had flooded the river, or the quakes had caused a new river or lake to flow into this one. Either way, the water buried the roots of the trees along the banks. A swing set in one of the backyards lining the river was halfway under water and the back stairs of another porch were swamped.

  He eyed the multiple, massive concrete posts holding the bridge up with trepidation. All the posts were still standing but there was no way to know what kind of damage they'd sustained from the quakes and flooding. His gaze lifted to the flat bridge before him. Hamilton Fish Newburgh-Beacon Bridge was written on a sign at the foot of the bridge. There were lights hanging over the road from posts, but none of them were on, but then he hadn't expected them to be either.

  A sign announcing that the right lane was closed was also nearby. His eyes narrowed on the right lane as another chill slid down his back. Why had it been closed down even before everything had fallen apart? He wondered as he studied the orange barrels, forgotten construction equipment in the right lane, and the roadway that was full of potholes and cracks.

  He glanced at the other bridge running parallel, and apparently identical, to the one they were parked in front of. Tollbooths were set up on the other side but Al had said there were no tolls at the other end of this bridge. They could cross over on the other bridge, but looking between the two of them, Carl couldn't see any structural difference in them.

  "How long is this thing?" Peter demanded.

  "At least a mile," Al answered tiredly.

  Donald released a low whistle; he shook his head and moved closer to the bridge. John stepped forward; he stopped at the very edge of where the bridge started. "We've already had one bad experience with a bridge," John said. "Do we really want to try crossing this one too?"

  "I'd rather have a colonoscopy without the drugs than do this, but I don't think we have any other choice," Carl answered honestly.

  John gave him a double look before releasing a low chuckle. "Well it's a good thing we don't actually have that option."

  "Yeah," Carl muttered before walking over to stand beside Al. "Is there any way around this?"

  Al shook his head and lifted the map. "This ended in Connecticut; we're running on my memory alone until we find a New York state map. I'm sure there are other bridges, but I don't know how close they are or even where they are."

  "Or if they're still standing," Carl said.

  "Or that," Al agreed.

  "You've been across this before; does it look like it's been damaged to you?"

  "It's been years since I've crossed it but it looks almost exactly the same as I remember it. I'm pretty sure the right lane was closed down the last time I went over then too."

  Carl didn't know if that was a comforting fact or not, but it definitely wasn't one he wanted to linger on. "Great," John said. "That sounds promising."

  "I think they use it as a breakdown lane for the most part," Al explained.

  Maybe that was supposed to be of some comfort, but Carl found none in it. "So how are we going to do this?" John asked. "Are we going to walk across it again first? Go one vehicle at a time or all of them at once? Maybe one of the vehicles could go over the other bridge at least then, if one collapses, some of us will still survive."

  "That's looking on the bright side," Carl said.

  "Someone has too."

  Carl released a small snort of laughter as he rubbed at the bridge of his nose and surveyed the two bridges. "They really don't look like they're in bad condition. The water level is high but it wasn't
forceful enough to knock the trees over."

  "This is an extremely bad idea," Peter muttered.

  Carl chose to ignore him as his attention turned back to the water below them. "What would you have us do?" John asked.

  Peter's jaw clenched as he folded his arms over his chest. A muscle twitched in the teacher's cheek. Carl waited for Peter to say something more but as the seconds slid into minutes, he realized that wasn't going to happen. Unwilling to even acknowledge the man, Carl turned back to the bridge.

  "I don't think it matters about splitting up the vehicles. That's a long walk across and back; it will take too much time for us to do it. I think we'd be exposed here for too much time if something or someone was to show up," Carl said.

  "I don't like that idea either," Xander said. "And I highly doubt just our weight on this thing is going to make much of an impact. Not when it still has that crane, barrels, and dump truck sitting on it."

  "What about doing separate bridges?" Mary Ellen asked.

  "I doubt that would make a difference either," Donald said. "It's not like we're all driving Mac trucks."

  Carl rubbed at the scruff lining his jaw and pulled his hat off. He ran a hand through his disheveled hair as he studied the cap. The red B for the Red Sox was officially black now from the rain and dirt, the blue of the cap had faded to a light gray color, and the material on the bill had been worn down to the cardboard in some areas. It had definitely seen better days, but then so had he, and it was still his lucky cap. He placed it back on his head and settled it over his eyes.

  He wasn't exactly thrilled about the idea of doing this, but he didn't see any other way around it. They could spend hours driving out of their way to try and find another route across the river. Hours in which they could get stuck somewhere else, or attacked. Hours that would be off of the highway and in areas that they had absolutely no knowledge of.

  The idea of driving across the bridge was enough to give him a nic-fit. He fished into his pocket for his cigarettes and pulled them out. The fresh wash of nicotine didn't have the desired effect he'd been looking for as his heart continued to pound and a sweat, based solely on fear, began to coat his body.