“But what?” asked Billy.
The old doctor considered Christopher with sympathetic eyes. “She’s been in a coma ever since.”
Christopher nodded. Seeming surprised at the boy’s lack of emotion, Dr. Terry snapped his head around and kept walking.
They crossed the banquet hall and Billy saw two women, one old and one young, one sitting in a chair and one lying on a blanket on the floor with a makeshift IV attached to her arm. He gasped. Even from a distance he could make out her features – the sharp yet smooth cheekbones, the large yet appropriate nose, the brown hair that looked like satin. It was her. Marcy. As if to accentuate this point the song in his head became more than background noise. It grew into a full orchestra.
“This is my wife, Katy,” said the old doctor. “She’s been keeping an eye on the girl since she arrived.”
The woman stood up. She appeared much younger than her husband, though the strain of her movements contradicted that youthful front. She bowed her head and said, “Who do we have here, John? New visitors?”
“Yes, dear. This is Bill and Chris. They arrived not too long ago. They’re looking for the boy’s sister. Her name is Marcy, so we wanted to see if our Marcy is the same as theirs.” He stared at Christopher. “Is this her, son?”
It was Billy who answered. “Yes, it is.”
Dr. Terry did a double take. He glanced from Christopher to Billy and back again. “Wait,” he said. “She’s not your sister, is she?”
Shyly, Christopher shook his head.
The old doctor squinted and glared at Billy. “Why did you folks lie to us, then? What was the point?”
“It does not matter,” replied Billy. “All that matters is that we are here now, we have found her, and she is safe.”
“Who is she?” asked Mrs. Terry.
“She is a woman in need. And I was sent here to help her.”
“Sent here?” laughed the doctor. Protectiveness crept into his tone. “Sent here by who? Jesus? Gandhi? You’re too much. And there’s no way to help her, anyway. She’s got a ton of poison flowing through her veins. Who knows what kind of havoc that damned virus is wrecking on her insides. She needs a blood transfusion, not some murdering, conceited writer with a God complex.” The old man’s face became beet red and his voice raised an octave. Forrest stepped up behind them, appearing ready to spring into action.
“You say she needs a blood transfusion,” said Billy, staying calm. “Why did you not give her one?”
Dr. Terry opened his mouth to answer but his wife – the mediator – cut him off. “We found her donor card in her pocket when she came here, otherwise we would have. She’s blood type O-negative. She can only receive the same back, otherwise it will kill her. And no one else in the building has that blood type, at least as far as they know. And besides that, we would need someone with the proper antibodies to fight the virus. So even if we did find someone who was a match there would be no way of knowing if they were immune.”
Billy grinned from ear to ear. He started laughing aloud, which startled his audience. All the while the words of his spirit guide rang in his ears, above Marcy’s song. It’s in your blood, she said. It’s in your blood.
“I think I can help you, Mrs. Terry,” he said when he calmed down.
She looked at him as if he were insane. “How so?”
“The red cross has been after me for years,” he replied. “I am O-negative, as well.”
“And what about the infection?” she asked.
“For many reasons I am not too worried about it,” he said.
Chapter 13
The Hardest Choice of All
Colin let his eyes wander to the sky. The thick layer of clouds hovering overhead parted ever so slightly, allowing a single beam of sunlight to shine through.
“It’s beautiful,’ said the young woman beside him.
He nodded. “It is.” His heart raced as she rested her head on his shoulder. He snuck his hand behind her back and slid his fingers through her hair. After so many weeks without bathing it had the consistency of overcooked pasta. He didn’t care. That she was there with him, that she listened to his fears and calmed his frazzled nerves, was all that counted.
She turned her eyes, deep brown and somber, to him. “What do you think’s happening out there?” she asked.
“Out where?”
“In the real world,” she said, pointing somewhere above the surrounding trees.
He shrugged. “Don’t know. Don’t care either, really.”
“Why not?” she asked with a frown.
He pulled her in close. “Honestly, Jess? I got everything I need right here. I don’t even care that you smell like old pizza. Actually, now that I think about it, that might be the best part of all.”
This got a smile out of her and she again nuzzled into him. A toddler – her son – shuffled past them, his gaze intent on his shadow. His bundled arms stuck out to each side like a scarecrow and snot ran down his raw upper lip. He stuck out his tongue and spat when it trickled into his mouth. Colin laughed. A second later the child forgot his discomfort and again set about chasing his shadow.
“I want to leave,” Jessica whispered.
“You do? Why?”
“We can’t stay here forever, you know.”
“Yeah, I know.”
As strange as it seemed given the circumstances, Colin had never been happier. Though times were tough, they hadn’t run across a member of the stumbling undead in over a week and he still had his friend, a portion of his sanity, and now a girl who anchored him to reality in a way that both enticed and soothed him.
Jess had come to him the day after one of his many arguments with Josh and reassured that everything would be okay, that fights were inevitable given their cramped living conditions and the scarcity of their resources. He complained about his best friend, railing against Josh’s sense of entitlement and superiority. To this Jessica replied, “But he’s taking responsibility. He’s got a lot of pressure on him. And he’s doing the best he can.”
Colin had no choice but to accept the truth of that statement.
In the days following their conversation he grew to appreciate Josh’s point of view. With no liquor to numb his senses he couldn’t hide from reality any longer. For the first time since their little group left the carriages behind and trekked to the shack in the woods he took the initiative and helped out. It was he who first congratulated his friend and Kyra when they announced her pregnancy, he who stepped up and buried the body in the clearing afterwards (without being asked to do so), he who rummaged through the trees in search of firewood come dusk every other evening. Jessica, in turn, stayed beside him every moment, with little Zachary in her arms, needling him, pushing him, consoling him.
He was beginning to fall in love with her. He wasn’t sure if she mirrored his feelings but in the end decided it was of no consequence if she did or not. She was present, reciprocated his need for attention, and even went so far as to let him kiss her one evening after everyone else in the cramped cabin had drifted off to sleep. Even in his former life, now long lost, no woman had offered him so much affection, true affection, not drunken horseplay. So no, it didn’t matter if she loved him or not. They had nothing but time and no one to spend it with but each other. Given that fact there would be ample opportunity for her feelings to grow.
“I’m thirsty,” she said. “Can you get me some water?”
“Sure thing,” he replied. He gave her a squeeze and strolled up the steps into the shack. The people inside greeted him with bright smiles as he entered. Even Luanda offered a kind nod. Things were changing, and changing fast. There was a sensation of transformation in the air he couldn’t deny.
He grabbed the thermos off the windowsill and twisted off the cap. The snow packed inside was almost melted. Its remnants floated in the water like a lonely iceberg. He picked a dirty glass off the floor and filled it. The recently uncovered sun shone through the water and cast dancing fle
cks of light on his jacket. He glanced out the window and saw Josh playing in the rapidly melting snow with Kyra, Andy, and Francis. He looked somewhat happy for a change. Lightness filled Colin’s insides and he grinned.
Yes, the times they were a’ changin’. He couldn’t help but think they were all better off for it.
* * *
“How long you think it’ll take?” Colin asked.
Josh shrugged. “Don’t know. Shouldn’t be too long. When we got off the highway we were only a couple miles from Attleboro.”
“So what’s that mean as far as time?”
“Uh, how the hell should I know? You want a quadratic equation drawn up or some shit? I’m no math wiz.”
Colin rolled his eyes. “Ain’t that the truth.”
Josh grinned back and continued rolling up his sleeping bag. When he finished he watched his cabin mates. A few of them had concerned expressions painted across their brows. The rest, however, seemed at ease with the decision, perhaps even excited by it.
The previous evening, during a passionate debate around the low flames emanating from the wood stove, the group discussed their future. Josh argued that with the snow starting to melt and their assets dwindling to virtually nothing it had come time to leave. At first he found opposition, especially from Emily, whose tired old frame seemed to quake with the thought of venturing out in the cold, harsh weather with little protection. Alice and Mary squabbled amongst each other – Alice against the move, Mary for it – and eventually the lifelong friends slumped in opposite corners of the shack, backs to each other like children. Yvette, who had been trying to recover from a mild case of what she thought to be pneumonia, worried what the journey would do to her already fragile health. She suggested they start hunting for food, which got a laugh out of everyone seeing as they hadn’t seen a living thing in months.
He received his strongest support from the unlikeliest of allies – Luanda. She agreed wholeheartedly with the plan and went about scolding those who remained uncertain. When the resistance reached a level bordering hysteria and the children began to stir Josh raised his tone.
“Look at us!” he shouted. “This isn’t good, guys. We have no food. We’ll all starve to death if we don’t go out there and try to reach some sort of civilization. Hell, I think I’ve lost sixty pounds, at least. My ribs’re poking through my chest, and I don’t think that’s happened since I was, like, five. How much longer you think we’ll last? And not only that, but I don’t know if anyone’s noticed that there’re some nasty fuckers out there that would like nothing better than to make us all dinner. Sure, we haven’t seen any for a while, but that doesn’t mean they’re gone for good. What happens if they start showing up more than one at a time? You really think this piece of shit cabin would stand up to that? I don’t. So that’s the end of the discussion. I vote we leave. All in favor say ‘aye’.”
Most raised their hands in confirmation. Those who didn’t sat there looking dejected. Josh glanced at Colin and noticed his friend smiling at him. His dimples were wide craters at the corners of his mouth. Josh sighed in relief. It had been quite a while since he’d seen an expression that hopeful on his face. And when Jessica leaned in to nip Colin on the cheek his own smile grew all the wider. Colin had told him he felt a change coming. In that moment Josh believed it.
When he finished packing his sleeping bag and poor excuse for a wardrobe in a burlap sack Josh made his way around, helping the others do the same. He spotted Kyra on the other side of the room, Jessica by her side, chatting while they bundled up the children for the journey. He waved at her. She peeked his way, still talking, and waggled her fingers. Someone slapped him on the back and he peeled his eyes away from his pregnant lover. It was Colin.
“I’m all set,” he said.
“You sure?” asked Josh.
Colin’s eyes darted around the nearly-empty space. “C’mon, bro. Not that hard to pack up nothing, y’know.”
Josh smirked. “You sure you checked everywhere? Remember the time you left your cell phone charger in that hotel in Boston? You were positive you had everything then, too.”
Colin cuffed him on the back of the head. “This ain’t the Ritz,” he said, “and it ain’t the Motel Six, either. Let’s just steer everyone outta here, okay? It’s gotta be almost noon already. We only got about four hours of sunlight left, and the last time I checked we don’t got no flashlights that work. I don’t wanna be stuck out in the woods when it gets dark.”
“Good point,” Josh said. He strolled to the door and held it open so his friend could carry out the three bags slung over his shoulder. He then turned to the rest and said, “Okay, folks, that’s about it. Let’s get moving!”
During the first couple weeks after finding the shack Mary and Alice had discovered a pair of old wheelbarrows buried in a pile of debris by the stream. They were now put to good use. Colin heaped their meager belongings in one while Josh allowed the children to take turns riding in the other. They marched through the wilderness heading east, hoping they could retrace the steps they’d taken two months before.
The going was slow and arduous. One hour passed, then two. The sun started to disappear behind the trees. Josh heard Colin panting behind him as his slender friend pushed the barrow’s rusty wheel through four inches of slop. Josh fared no better. His shoulders burned and his gut cramped up. He had to reach into the reservoir of his soul to find the energy needed to surge the cart onward. Kyra offered her assistance but when he saw the green tint of her skin he thought better of accepting it. If she was going to get sick, better she not do it all over the back of little Paula Brownstone’s head.
Day passed into early evening and still they found no shelter. Everywhere he looked seemed the same; the same bare trees, the same snow-covered shrubs, the same collections of boulders. The light faded into a murky purple tint and the wind picked up, causing the hairs to stand up on the back of his neck. With every sound he heard his brain assumed the worst and his arms would cramp in anticipation of dropping the barrow’s handle to fight. Yet nothing leapt out and nothing trailed them from behind. The more he thought about it he realized the only sounds he really heard were their own feet as they pounded through the muck and the wind blowing past his ears. It was as if the world had been placed in stasis.
Finally, when the clouds overhead shone a brilliant crimson with the setting sun, they struck paydirt. They stood at the crest of a steep rise and below them stretched the parking lot of a shopping plaza. They glanced at each other with disbelief in their eyes. Josh looked to Colin and nodded.
Colin nodded back to him and smirked. “Okay, folks,” he shouted. “Last one down…”
He took off at a dead sprint, the cart careening before him. Josh followed suit after urging the children who sat in the barrow to climb out. His heart raced and the pain in his body seemed to disappear. He trailed only a few paces behind his friend, digging his heels into the mess and trying not to tumble head over heels at the same time. Ahead of him Colin did stumble. One foot struck the other and he lurched forward. The barrow tipped, sending the various bags resting atop it skating across the wet ground. He then soared, feet first, into the air. Josh tried to pull up but the awkwardness of his barrow threw him off balance. He spun to the side and then leapt, narrowly avoiding the wooden handles as they corkscrewed. He landed in the muck with a thud. Mud and snow crept up the back of his pants as he slid.
He came to a stop when he collided with his friend, who lay on his side in the snow. He heard shouts of concern draw near from those who cautiously made their way down the hill. Checking his extremities for damage and finding what he hoped would be only a few bumps and bruises he raised his hand to them.
He turned to find Colin gazing his way. His blue eyes shimmered in the dying light and his body convulsed with spasms of laughter.
“What’s wrong with you?’ Josh mumbled.
“That,” replied Colin as hysteria washed over him, “was the best…fall…ever.”<
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* * *
A grocery store took up most of the plaza. The place had been left remarkably intact. None of the storefront windows were broken there were no scorch marks on the exterior. They took that as a good sign and pried the inoperable sliding door open to get in. Though all items in the produce and meat departments were rotten they found food aplenty in the aisles of canned goods. They loaded up, grabbed flashlights and batteries off the shelves, and headed for the rear of the store.
It was in the storage area that the twenty-one survivors from Dover made camp for the evening. They barricaded the doors with crates of dry goods, set up their sleeping materials – damp because of Colin’s sprint and subsequent fall – and hunkered down for the evening.
Josh couldn’t sleep. The building’s creaks and moans assaulted his ears. Moonlight streamed in through the bay windows, giving the surrounding area a grayish-blue tint and casting frightening shadows all around him. His heart raced while he worried that some unfriendly thing might creep up on them when he least expected. He felt more than a little dim for not searching the place thoroughly before settling down. If anyone gets hurt, he thought, it’ll be my fault.
He pried Kyra’s arm off his chest and sat up. She groaned and rolled to her back, shoving the covers off as she did so. He stared down at her for a long time. After a while his hand wandered to her shirt and he pulled it up, exposing her stomach. There was a very noticeable rise to it now. He placed his palm on her flesh and pressed. It felt strange, like pushing on a water balloon. He cocked his head and listened. Only the haunting sounds of the building returned to him.
“What’re you doing in there?” he whispered to the child inside her. “Are you even alive?”
He covered Kyra up and stood. For the next half-hour he paced around the storeroom, flashlight in hand, scouting for trouble. Of course there was none. The place they found themselves in was a huge rectangle and nothing more. The only place anything could’ve been hiding without his knowledge would be the freezer.
Dead Of Winter (The Rift Book II) Page 22
