Her words rang true and the tranquility he felt couldn’t stop his heart from sinking.
“So I’m a killer,” he said.
No, she replied, her disembodied voice brimming with compassion. You are a survivor.
Josh went to slouch with his hands in his pockets, but when he did so his pockets were nowhere to be found. He looked down to find that he was naked, standing there in all his stark glory for the entire cosmos to see, and yet all he felt was warmth. He looked up at her and tried to smile.
“I’m sorry, but this is a lot to take in.”
I understand.
“Yeah, but…hey, what’s your name, anyway? If you’re gonna keep coming to me like this, I’d like to know what to call you.”
For the first time the lady sounded uncertain when she said, I do not have one.
“Isabella,” whispered Josh. A tinge of sadness embraced him. “That’s what Marcy wanted to name her first kid, if she had a girl. How about that?”
An illusion of a smile crossed her shadowy lips. I like that, she said.
Josh felt a sudden surge of joy flow through his veins. It amazed him how comfortable he now felt, as if there was nothing more natural in the world than standing in the clouds, naked, with a woman who was really nothing more than a ghost. A single question ran through his mind.
“What happens now?”
The newly christened Isabella circled him. You must leave this place, she said. There is nothing but death here.
“Where do I go?”
South. As far as you can go, until the land ends and the sea begins, the southernmost tip of the peninsula.
“Are you talking about Florida? Why Florida?”
That is where salvation lies.
“What kind of salvation?”
That is not known at this time.
“So I’m just supposed to take your word?”
You have no choice.
Josh chuckled. “I kinda figured that.”
You must be cautious, however. There will be obstacles along the way, as well as others like you. Some will be there to help, some to impede. You must find those who wish to assist, for the journey will not end until the covenant is completed.
“Where will I find them?”
Do not worry. You will find each other. In time.
Marcy came to mind again. He saw her the way he did in his dreams, willowy, pale, and in pain. All of a sudden he feared for her safety.
“What about…” he began, but then shut his mouth. His thoughts were starting to fail him.
She is one of you, replied Isabella. Do not fret for her, Joshua. She is protected. Her cries do not fall on deaf ears. There are others who will answer that call, not you.
A deep, vibrating rumble shook the atmosphere, and Isabella turned away. Her obscure face rose to the hidden sky. It is time, she said. I am sure you have felt it already. The doubt. You must go. He is coming.
“Will I see you again?”
For the second time she seemed uncertain. Only when it is safe to do so. Please hurry. I can block Him from you for a short time, but there are no guarantees.
She placed her palm on his forehead. The light that followed was blinding.
* * *
Kyra cupped her hands around her mouth. “Josh!” she yelled. The murkiness of dawn coated the surrounding woods in gloom. A dense fog hung in the air. In the distance, animal cries could be heard. For a moment, she thought it foolish to be calling attention to herself out there where demons might be lurking, but then she imagined a world in which the man she now adored did not exist and decided it was a risk she needed to take.
“Dammit, Josh! Where are you?”
Colin came tearing around the corner. “Did you find him?” he asked.
Kyra rolled her eyes. “What do you think?”
“You’re right. Sorry, stupid question.”
She watched Colin turn around and form his own makeshift blow horn, calling out the same as she. She sensed something approaching and a shiver rapped against her insides.
A twig snapped and her head spun in the direction of the trees to the left of the neglected rose garden. She heard a moan. It was a sound she knew.
“Colin, over here!”
Kyra broke into a dead sprint with Colin following close behind. She busted through the foliage at the edge of the woods without care for her wellbeing. Branches whipped her face, opening tiny cuts on her cheeks and neck. Pinpricks stabbed at her nerves, but she didn’t care. She had to find him. She had to find Josh. She’d be damned if she gave up that sense of finally belonging without a fight.
After only about fifty yards she found him. He stood beneath a maple tree whose branches sagged like the shoulders of a defeated soldier, his body shivering. His arms were wrapped around his chest and his legs were crossed. He wasn’t wearing any clothes.
Kyra jumped in front of him. “Josh!” she proclaimed. “What’re you doing out here?”
He didn’t say anything. His eyes stared off into space, vacant as a corpse’s.
She grabbed his arms and shook him. “Josh!” she screamed, her saliva spraying his face. Still he said nothing.
A pair of hands wrapped around her waist and pulled her away. “Calm down,” Colin’s voice said. She kicked and screamed against his grasp, but the wiry young man held on tight. His hand shot up and covered her mouth.
“Shush,” he said. “Listen.”
She heard a low rumbling off in the distance, a strange sound like a crowd cheering on a football team inside a far-off, packed stadium.
“What is that?” she asked.
Colin faced her, his blue eyes wide. “I’m not sure, but it can’t be anything good.”
Kyra glanced from Colin to Josh and then sighed. He hadn’t moved a muscle. She slowly approached him, stood on her tiptoes, draped her arms around his neck, and kissed his lips.
“C’mon, buddy,” said Colin. “What the hell is wrong with you?”
Josh’s eyelids fluttered. “Uh…nothing?” he said.
Kyra stepped back, her heart rising from the pit of her stomach. She smiled and said, “Hey there.”
“Hi,” he replied, and then he looked down at himself. “Huh. I guess I’m naked here too.”
“Huh?”
Colin stepped up, took off his jacket, and handed it to him. “Yep, you are. And it definitely ain’t a sight I wanna get too used to seeing.”
“Thanks, wiseass,” Josh said with a chuckle.
“No problemo.”
Josh turned in Kyra’s direction. “How did I get here?”
She sighed. “I don’t have a clue. All I know is I woke up an hour ago and you were gone. So I woke up Colin and went searching for you.”
“How about Mr. McKinley?”
“He’s still asleep,” giggled Kyra. “The guy snores like a wild hog. Not pleasant.”
Josh cocked his head. “What’s that noise?”
“Not sure,” answered Colin. “I just noticed it a few seconds ago.”
A worried expression came over Josh’s face. “Colin, go wake up Mac and then get the Volvo from the farm. It’s not too far away from here. We have to get back to the church, and quick. She bought us some time, but I don’t know how much.”
“Who did what?”
“Never mind. I’ll tell you later. See if you guys can figure out a way we can get the people over at the church out of here as quick as we can.” He glanced down again. “Oh, and find me some clothes, too.”
“Sure thing, my man,” answered Colin, before he raced for the house.
“What’s going on?” asked Kyra.
“They’re coming,” he said. His half-smile and wary eyes scared her. It didn’t help when he said, “We have to get out of town like right fucking now.”
“Why?” she asked. “Where are we supposed to go?”
He smiled. In that moment, he seemed very far away.
“Miami,” he said.
CHAPTER 23
> DEPARTURE
KYRA FOLLOWED STACY’S DISTANT STARE. Thick black clouds swelled on the horizon, blocking out the sun. The sky beneath those clouds appeared hazy (it must be one hell of a storm, she thought) and the distant rapping of the falling rain created a cadenced, percussive sound.
She took her eyes off the approaching mist and glanced at her friend. Stacy looked so pathetically sad. Her face slumped, her eyes slackened, and her cheeks sagged into jowls. The first drops of rain fell and Little Roger fussed in her lap, but Stacy ignored her son’s pleas.
“You can’t do this,” said Kyra.
Stacy sniffled. “You don’t know,” she replied.
“I don’t know what, exactly?”
“What it feels like to be alone.”
“Like hell.”
Stacy turned, her eyes glistening with bitterness. “You’ve never been alone, Kye. You’ve always had people who wanted to take care of you. And don’t you go and give me that whole ‘I was stuck in a bad marriage’ crap! You could’ve left Justin years ago, but you didn’t. No, don’t you say a word. You stayed because it was convenient. You could’ve had any man out there. It was your choice. And there’s no way you can convince me otherwise.”
“But…”
“No! You don’t get it! Look at you! Justin’s gone, and you go cradle robbing. Now you’ve got some kid to protect you. Easy as pie for good ol’ Kyra. But some of us don’t have that option. Some of us have no one. So get over yourself.”
Kyra wanted to snap back at her but bit her tongue. “That’s not true,” she said. “You have us. We’re family now. We gotta stick together.”
“No,” said Stacy with a defiant shake of her head. “Roger’s all I’ve ever had. He’s out there somewhere. I know he is. He’s going to come back. You’ll see.”
“But Josh said—”
“I don’t care what that fucker thinks,” snapped Stacy. “He can’t know what happened to them. But I do. I know Roger’s alive. I can feel it. He’ll come back and take me and Little Roger away from here. You’ll see.”
“You’re delusional, Stacy,” muttered Kyra.
Stacy glared at her. “Fuck you, Kye,” she said coldly. “Get away from me.”
Kyra slapped her thighs and stood up. “Fine, Stacy. I’ll be inside if you want to chat.”
“Eat shit and die, bitch.”
With a frustrated sigh Kyra walked away, leaving her friend sitting in the rain with her baby in her lap. She stayed quiet as she made her way up the path toward the church. How could she say those things? she thought. Why is she being so cruel?
She shook her head. No one needed to tell her the reason. She’d experienced much the same thing many times over in her life. It was pain, and the desperate need to share it.
Josh greeted her when she reached the walkway. He leaned against the building with his hands in his jacket pockets. He shivered, yet even then he radiated an aura of stability she found immensely attractive. His hair was tousled just so, off to the left and half-covering his right eye, beads of water dripping down his face, and the smile he gave her oozed confidence. She realized that Stacy had been right. She really was the lucky one.
“How is she?” asked Josh.
Kyra shook her head.
“She’s not coming?”
“No.”
He sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Oh well,” he said. “We can’t make anyone go if they don’t want to.”
Kyra’s chest heaved. She didn’t really want to leave her friend and her child behind, even after what Stacy had said to her only moments before. But she would gladly go on without her if Josh was dead set on leaving. She felt a stitch of guilt because of this.
“I guess we can’t save everyone,” she said, and then started to cry. Josh pulled her into his chest. She pressed the side of her face into his coat while he caressed her hair. This comforted her, which caused even more guilt to surface.
You can’t even save yourself, was all she thought.
* * *
The light rain became a downpour, saturating Josh and everything around him. Frank McKinley barked orders at Colin, his gruff voice easily rising above the rain’s clamor.
Colin’s hands worked at a rapid pace as he tried to tie a thick rope into a knot. He was having a great amount of difficulty doing so. Josh chuckled as he held the giant tarp flush against the crude structure’s underbelly and watched his friend work.
“Never much of a Boy Scout, were you?” Josh teased.
“Shut up,” Colin snapped back. His stringy hair dripped rainwater into his eyes. “You couldn’t do any better.”
“Pretty much, but I didn’t volunteer, dumbass.”
“Go fuck yourself, bro.”
A few minutes and a couple jabs later, and the deed was done. The three exhausted laborers dashed across the front lawn until they stood beneath the protective shelter of the front entrance. Josh admired their work.
In the middle of the drenched, rock-covered patio were two old hay carriages. The bright blue tarpaulins they’d fastened to the top of each were propped up by four shoddily constructed arches built out of discarded lumber from Frank’s back yard. They’d been nailed together in haste and they sagged a bit, but they would have to do.
A pair of horses stood in front of each carriage, fully harnessed. Their breath formed spirals of steam as it exited their nostrils. Josh looked at Colin and smiled.
“What’re you thinking?” asked Colin.
“Me? Oh, just how much I feel like Lewis and Clark right about now.”
Colin grinned. “So who’s Lewis and who’s Clark?”
“Your call.”
“I’ll be Clark. He was the skinny one.”
They both laughed.
Frank rolled his eyes at them. “You two’re daft, you know that?”
Colin nodded. “Been said before, my main man. And it’s true.”
Approaching footsteps from behind broke up the brief foray into comedy. It was Kyra. “Everything all set?” she asked.
Josh answered. “Yup. All loaded up and ready for takeoff.”
He turned and looked at those gathered around them. They were definitely a motley bunch, and a much smaller group than he expected. There were only six women and fifteen children who had decided to make the trek. Andy and Francis were among them, and for that Josh was thankful.
The rest of the Dover survivors—more than half of them—lolled around in the back of the main hall, their expressions dour.
“This is it?” asked Colin.
Jessica Lure stepped forward, Zachary clinging to her neck. “No one else wants to go,” she said. “They think the troops are going to come back and they want to be here when they do.”
Josh grimaced. “You told them what I said, right?”
“Yeah.” Jessica shrugged and put her palms out. “But the story’s kind of unbelievable, Josh. Can you really blame them?”
“I guess not.” He gave her a sideways glance. “Do you believe it?”
“I’m not sure. But for some reason I trust you.” Her son wiggled in her arms and she smiled. “Besides, I owe it to Zach. I’d do anything to protect him…even if that means leaving town in a horse-drawn buggy.”
Josh nodded while he examined the others. They gazed at him the same way Jessica did, with the faintest glimmer of hope hidden behind a blockade of reservation. There was Yvette Kilty, a single woman in her mid-thirties who’d been the town hermit until a week ago; Luanda Anon, a tall, imposing woman of color who held a prominent position on the school board; Emily Steadman, an elderly lady of around seventy with hair turning blue around the temples and a skeletal, malnourished frame; and finally Mary Kincaid and Alice Carpenter, a pair of middle-aged bandits who were Dover lifers and friends since high school, oh so many years ago. Huddled among them were the young ones, the children without parents or guardians. It made Josh proud to see that his group had chosen to take on the added responsibility of caring for these chil
dren when no one else would, and he would gladly partake in that duty. He owed it to Sophia, to his parents, to Mrs. Flannigan and the rest of the seventh-graders. He would repay them all by protecting these kids’ lives with his own. It was the least he could do.
“Okay then,” he said, giving one final, pleading glance to those who remained. “Let’s get on with this.”
* * *
Wet leaves sloshed beneath the carriage wheels. The plodding clicks of the horses’ hooves, combined with the patter of raindrops on top of the canvas shell, created a calming, metronome-like sound. It was so all-encompassing that Kyra couldn’t even hear the rattle of the Volvo’s engine, which was ahead of them with Colin at the wheel. He’d been adamant that he wouldn’t ride like a pioneer. What’ll he do when there’s no more gas to fill the tank? she thought.
The horses sped up, and for a moment she thought they might run into the cart in front of them. She eased back on the reins. “Easy, Charity. Easy, Marmaduke,” she said. They followed her commands and slowed to a more appropriate amble. Even with the dank and cold weather making her bones ache, she managed to crack a smile.
“It’s the dawn of a new day,” she whispered.
Emily Steadman squeezed onto the bench beside her. “Do you mind if I have a turn?” the old woman asked. “I used to do this all the time when I was young. It would be good to feel that way again. Young, I mean.” Her tired gray eyes stared at Kyra from their wrinkled sockets with childlike glee. If only I could be like that when I’m her age…if I ever get to be that old, thought Kyra.
“Sure thing,” she said, and handed Emily the reins. The old lady nestled her bony hindquarters into the bench. Kyra patted her back and crawled into the rear of the carriage.
Josh awaited her there, sitting on the timber planks and playing cards with Andy and Francis. She sat next to him, snuck her arm beneath his coat, and flattened her hand against his bare back. He shivered and grinned.
“Hey, beautiful,” he said.
“What’re you guys doing?” she asked.
The twinkle in his eye was intoxicating. “Teaching my buds to play blackjack.”
She kissed him on the cheek. “Corrupting them young, are we?”
“For sure.”
She heard Frank McKinley call out from the lead carriage, so she disengaged from Josh and crawled back to the front of the coach. When she poked her head out from under the tarp, she saw the sign. ‘JCT I-95 SOUTH’, it read. Below the sign was a body, resting against the post with a crow on its shoulder. The eyes had been plucked out. The corpse offered her a lipless smirk as it lazed, and for a moment she swore she saw its lifeless hand twitch. Emily yelped when her eyes came across it, as well. Kyra withdrew back into the confines of the carriage. For the first time, it struck her that what they were doing was real, and she began to shake all over.
The Fall: The Rift Book I Page 26
