Distinct

by Hamill, Ike

  “Great—you happy? You can have all the uncooked popcorn you want. There must be thousands of packages here.”

  The idea began to form in Robby’s head before Gordie even barked.

  Robby turned to see what the dog was barking at. It was the last piece of the puzzle. The machine had big wheels and was painted with red and white stripes, like a circus tent. The propane tank was stored right on the side and the gauge suggested that it was full.

  “It would need a battery,” Robby mumbled.

  Sure enough, it had one mounted under the glass cabinet.

  Robby moved enough boxes so he could wheel the thing over to the window for some light.

  “There’s no way the battery will still be good, right?”

  Robby found the switch and turned it on.

  On the side of the giant popcorn machine, a red light came on. Inside the kettle, an arm began to turn.

  Robby smiled at Gordie.

  “You may be right.”

  CHAPTER 28: UPSTATE NEW YORK

  “CALL HIM, FRANK,” MARY said. “Call him. He’ll help you.”

  Her hands held him back as he tried to roll over and get to the knife. Maybe if he stabbed the man in the corner again, he could talk some sense into Mary. The undead guy in the hood seemed to be driving her insanity.

  “She’s right, you know,” the man said.

  Frank mumbled, mostly to himself, as he strained. “There’s nothing Luke can do for me.”

  In fact, the more Frank thought about it, Luke had been the cause of Frank’s problems. Frank had been a loner since long before the Thanksgiving disappearance. He had lived in a farmhouse on enough acreage to give him all the privacy he needed. It wasn’t that Frank didn’t like to interact with people, he was simply done trying to make it work. It seemed that sooner or later, he would say something, or someone else would say something, and the relationship would be tanked.

  Living alone, in his farmhouse west of Portland, Frank hadn’t even known about the end of the world until he turned on the news that night. Even then, it wasn’t like anyone was reporting on the incident. Frank knew something was up because the news was a repeat. He had never heard of such a thing. The next day, when he tried to go down to the grocery store, he discovered the emptiness.

  The realization had almost been a happy one. Loneliness wasn’t so much of an issue. Frank was only upset because he couldn’t get any answers.

  Luke had eventually arrived with answers. Luke had been tough, direct, and determined. He took over the farm next to Frank’s and began working it with his giant horse. Together, horse and man fortified the place.

  Frank met the man through a series of tense conversations over the rock wall that divided the two properties. With each meeting, Frank’s admiration deepened. He eventually started to adopt some of Luke’s customs. He recognized it, but saw no need to hide his mimickery.

  Luke shave his head. It made a lot more sense than the mirror haircuts that Frank had been attempting. Luke stored potatoes in barrels in his cellar. Frank started doing that too. They lasted a whole lot longer than leaving them in bags.

  And, of course, when Luke had suggested that everyone travel back to upstate New York only because Luke had spotted a good place they could settle, Frank had been the first one in line. It was that blind admiration that had made Frank an outcast. As people realized that Luke had led them back to a military stronghold, they didn’t just blame Luke, they blamed Frank too.

  Those months in between, though—they had been nearly perfect.

  Luke had been the undisputed leader and Frank had been his second.

  Luke had answers. He represented stability. He embodied respect and authority. And then it had all collapsed when Luke disappeared and the self-appointed army had nearly killed every one of them.

  Then again, maybe if Luke hadn’t disappeared, everything wouldn’t have gone to shit. Maybe Luke could have stopped the calamity and saved the day. If he had, there was a chance that Frank could have regained some credibility. Alone, he had few friends in the community. If Luke was around, that could all be different. Moreover, if Luke was around, Frank would hardly need any more friends in the community.

  Frank was able to clearly picture it.

  They would have adjacent houses. Luke would have to find a place with an attached barn, of course. He had been inseparable from that giant horse. Luke always had a hardboiled egg in his pocket in the morning, and he always had one to spare. They would eat their eggs, sitting on the stone wall and watching the morning sun burn the mist away from the fields. Together, they would plan. Luke would talk about his wife. Maybe Frank would even have a wife to talk about too.

  People would smile and wave whenever they walked together. Gifts would always be offered, but never accepted. If Luke and Frank had saved everyone, as they should have, they would have been remembered in story and song for the rest of their lives and then long beyond. Their names would be wrapped up in the legend of the tribe who survived the end of the world twice.

  Frank smiled at the idea.

  It was possible. Anything was possible—the world proved that every day. Luke was out there somewhere. His body had never been found. Luke was meant to save everyone and Frank was meant to be there, right at his side.

  “How?” Frank whispered to himself. He just needed to figure out how to do it. Once he planned out the steps, he could make his dreams into reality, he was sure of it.

  An unexpected voice answered his question.

  “Go and bring the truth to someone else,” The Origin said. “Do that and you’ll know how to find Luke. You’ll know how to reach the future you want.”

  Frank blinked and came back to reality.

  Mary was there. She was sitting with her back to the wall, looking up at the ceiling. On her face was a deeply satisfied smile. She was no help—she already had the word. Frank had to find someone to share the secret with.

  A terrible thought occurred to him.

  Aside from Mary, Patrick, and Dr. Matthew, everyone he had seen that day already knew the truth. There was nobody for Frank to convince.

  “Nobody,” he whispered.

  Again, The Origin supplied the answer.

  “Not around here,” he said. “Head southeast, to the city.”

  It made perfect sense.

  CHAPTER 29: LONG ISLAND

  “WHAT ARE WE DOING?” Tim asked. His eyes kept bouncing between the doors to the kitchen and the windows. Ty was gone, three guards stood right outside the windows, and Romie was swinging her club again, right at the dead man’s head.

  “I’m finishing what you started,” Romie said. Her face had a streak of blood in a thin line of crimson dots.

  Brad sat at the table, holding his head up with his hands.

  “He’s dead,” Tim said. He didn’t need to take the man’s pulse to see. There was no way that he could breathe through his collapsed face. His blood wasn’t spurting anymore, it was just splashing when Romie hit him again.

  To prove Tim’s point, The Origin’s flesh was turning black and drying out, right before their eyes.

  “Yeah, but he didn’t stay dead last time, did he?” Romie asked. She hit him again. The skin on top of The Origin’s skull had split. Now, the bone fragments were driving into what was left of his brain.

  Brad looked up. His voice was low and tired.

  “We could burn him.”

  Romie’s eyes lit up at the idea.

  “Burn him—yes.”

  She didn’t hesitate. Romie threw down the golf club and grabbed The Origin under his armpits. She dragged him backwards off his chair and pulled him in the direction of the kitchen.

  Tim looked back at the guards. They still stared out over the water, oblivious to what was happening in the restaurant.

  Something knocked the radio from Romie’s belt. Tim walked over and picked it up. When he clicked it on, Lisa’s frantic voice emerged from the speaker.

  “…tell me what’s go
ing on,” she said.

  Tim clicked the button several times until she paused and waited for him to speak.

  “Lisa, we’re okay, but the hooded man is… I don’t know how to explain it. Romie has gone a little crazy. She’s going to try to burn the man up.”

  “What? Get out of there. You guys aren’t sticking to the plan. It’s time to abort and regroup. Just get away and come back so we…”

  Tim turned down the radio and left it on the table.

  He looked at Brad. “Can you watch those guys and yell if they try to get in?” Tim asked.

  Brad glanced at Tim and then nodded.

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  The kitchen was much darker.

  Skylights gave them enough illumination to move around, but it only had a few windows compared to the dining area. It took Tim a second to spot Ty, who was standing over near the stovetops with his arms folded.

  “This would go a lot easier if you two would help,” Romie said.

  Pans clattered to the floor as one of the dead man’s arms dragged across a low shelf. Romie paused to stand up straight and stretch her back.

  “These things work, you think?” she asked, gesturing to the big ovens.

  “Doubtful,” Tim said.

  “Guess he has to go old school then,” Romie said. “Get over here and help.”

  She pointed at Tim. He felt helpless to deny her. She took the legs and Tim had to grab the man’s arms. His limp head was destroyed. It kept knocking into Tim’s knees as they maneuvered the body.

  “He’s not talking anymore,” Romie said to Ty. “If that’s what you’re worried about, then forget it.”

  “He travels to the other side. You can’t trust him,” Ty said. His voice was low and frightened. Tim had never heard him sound like that. The tone carried weight.

  “It won’t be a problem for long,” Romie said. She counted off and Tim helped her lift. They swung the corpse up and into a deep sink. Romie folded the dead man’s limbs the best that she could.

  “If he puts a name on your pain, it will eat at you,” Ty said.

  “He’s not putting a name on anything,” Romie said as she searched. She found what she was looking for on a shelf behind the prep table. She came back with several types of oil. Uncapping the bottles, she spilled them into the sink with the man. Romie wadded paper towels and stuffed them in there too.

  “This is a bad idea,” Tim said.

  Near the oven, Romie found a box of long matches. She lit one and the dancing flame played orange light on her face.

  “What’s the worst that could happen?”

  She touched the match to the paper. It started slowly and then gained quick vigor. Flames started to catch The Origin’s clothes. Crackling and popping, the flames brought new light to the dim kitchen.

  “What did he say?” Ty asked. He sprang forward and began to move towards the sink as he shouted it again. “What did he say?”

  “Nothing,” Tim said. He moved fast to put himself in Ty’s way. The look on the big man’s face was suddenly crazed.

  “I heard something. I heard him whisper something just now.”

  “No,” Tim said. “It was just the fire. He’s dead. Trust me. His face wasn’t capable of producing speech.”

  When the voice came from the sink, Tim realized how wrong he was.

  “Caleb is still waiting,” The Origin said.

  Tim watched the lips come together and form the words. He heard the sound above the crackling of Romie’s flames, but he still couldn’t believe it. The Origin wasn’t simply burning, he was decaying at the same time. The desiccated flesh burned blue and green. Hot gas shot from the corpse’s mouth, fanning and fueling the fire.

  “Waiting?” Tim asked. He started to move forward.

  When his hands reached into the fire to shake more information out of The Origin, Romie yelled and Ty pulled him backwards. They had changed roles. Tim had been holding back Ty a second before. Now, Ty was the only thing keeping Tim from reaching into the flames.

  “I have to know about Caleb,” Tim said.

  “What’s wrong with him?” Romie asked as Ty wrestled him backwards. Ty outweighed him by a lot, but Tim was struggling with every cell of his body. His desperation nearly pulled him free from Ty’s grip.

  Ty wrapped his arms around Tim and lifted him from the floor so he could carry him towards the door. The kitchen was filling with smoke.

  Romie moved to help. When she reached for Tim’s legs to help carry him, Tim kicked, slamming her in the shoulder. Romie fell back into a rack of trays.

  Brad pushed open the door.

  “They’re gone,” Brad said. He saw the struggle.

  Brad and Romie moved to help Ty. It took all three of them to drag Tim from the kitchen.

  “I have to know about Caleb,” Tim repeated, over and over.

  They didn’t stop at the dining room. The smoke was beginning to leak into there as well. They continued through the front hall and muscled him into the truck. As they finally got some distance from the country club, Tim’s struggles began to subside.

  Ty and Romie sat on either side as Brad drove back to the condo.

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  “You people are useless,” Lisa said as they carried Tim through the door. “Where’s the radio? Why haven’t you been answering me? What happened to Tim?”

  They moved Tim to the couch and stretched him out there. Tim appeared exhausted. Ty sat on the edge of the couch with a protective arm on Tim’s chest. Cedric, wagging furiously, investigated every inch of Tim and shoved his nose under Tim’s hand. The dog sat down and waited to be scratched. Tim’s hand didn’t move.

  “He went crazy,” Romie said. “It’s probably my fault. I burned up that old guy and Tim went crazy.”

  “It’s not your fault,” Brad said. “That man’s words are like a virus. They burrow into your brain and make you crazy.”

  “They didn’t make me crazy,” Romie said.

  “It doesn’t sound like they made you any more sane,” Lisa said.

  Romie frowned. She moved to the sliding door and went out on the balcony.

  “I saw them headed towards the boat,” Brad said. “Did they go away?”

  Lisa nodded. She put her hands on her hips and then folded her arms across her chest as she stared at Tim. “What do you think is wrong with him? He looks disturbed.”

  “His heart is racing,” Ty said. “Someone go look in the medicine cabinet. See if there’s anything we can use.”

  Lisa nodded and then hurried off.

  Murphy had joined Cedric, sitting next to him. The two dogs and Ty looked down at Tim. They all had the same concerned expression.

  Brad sighed and wandered out to the balcony.

  “Did you get rid of him?” Brad asked. “Did the fire work?”

  She had the telescope trained on the country club.

  “It’s hard to say. He went up like dry tinder, but then he said something to Tim. Some name I didn’t recognize.”

  “Don’t say it,” Brad said.

  Romie raised her eyebrows.

  “Like you said, that’s how cults work. They get you talking about something that bothers you and then they get a foothold inside of your brain. The less we talk about them, the better off we’ll be.”

  “You still think he was contagious,” Romie stated.

  Brad nodded. “That’s right. Maybe it’s not germs. Maybe it’s like a mind virus that he sets inside your brain by talking about what you miss.”

  “Didn’t work on me,” Romie said. “He was talking about all my family members and it…”

  “Stop,” Brad said. “Might take longer to work on some people than others, but there’s no reason to tempt it. Let’s just not talk about it.”

  Romie nodded.

  ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪

  They took turns.

  Brad was out on the balcony, watching the water, while Romie sat with Tim. Cedric was curled up at the foot of the c
ouch, waiting for Tim to become himself again. As the sun set and the stars came out overhead, Brad started to wonder if Tim was ever going to be the same.

  “Brad,” Romie whispered.

  Lisa and Ty were asleep in the closest bedroom with the door open. Romie said, “Psst!” until Brad turned.

  Brad slid the screen door to the side and came into the living room.

  “He has to go out. I can tell,” she said, pointing to the dog.

  Ty had dragged Cedric out earlier, using a leash to get him through the door, but the dog had refused to do anything except wait to come back in to Tim.

  “Come on,” Brad said to the dog. “You want to go out?”

  This time, the dog came willingly. He kept looking over his shoulder at Tim, but he came willingly.

  Brad took him through the door and down the hall. They had to go outside through the front of the condo—the back deck didn’t have access to the lawn. The night was still and profoundly dark. Brad stared up at the stars as he felt his way down to a seat on the stairs.

  Back in Gladstone, he and Robby had rigged up a few lights here and there to make the place less lonely at night. It was amazing how comforting it was to look down the street and see an upstairs light on in a house. Of course, he had to try to forget that the light was on in an empty room of an empty house. There was something creepy about that thought. It was much more pleasant to imagine a tired couple, each reading a few more pages before they drifted off to sleep.

  Brad swam in this memory while Cedric moved into the bushes to take care of business.

  When the door swung open behind him, Brad nearly shouted.

  “Sorry,” Ty said. Murphy ran by Brad and darted off into the dark to follow her father.