I took her hand and kissed the back of it. I thought about saying something like, ‘If it makes you happy, I’m glad,’ but I couldn’t bring myself to say the words.
She was quiet for a long moment, and I knew her well enough by now to know she was deciding whether to broach a sensitive subject.
“Jaz…”
“Hmm?” I was pretty sure where this was going, what with the menorah sitting at pride of place in my rearview mirror, but I let her continue.
“Don’t you ever wonder if there is something more out there?” Her voice was quiet and held a tone of desperation I hadn’t heard before. A pit dropped in my stomach. I’d been wrong to criticize her god. She’d been brought up to believe there was a dependable, loving god in her life, and who was I to say otherwise? I bit back what I’d been about to say – that I’d seen so much crap, death, and suffering in my life to make it pretty self-evident to me that “God” didn’t exist.
But it was different for Jennifer. She’d discarded her god after the disaster of Halloween, but, at the end of the day, she still needed something to hold onto. Who was I to take that away from her?
So I swallowed my initial words and turned to face her. “Sometimes, I look at the stars and think how small and insignificant we are, and how amazing the sky is. At those times, I wonder if the beauty of the heavens could have been shaped by a random act like the Big Bang, or whether some…Creator has a plan for us all.”
Jennifer raised her head to look into my eyes. “So, you do have faith?”
I shook my head, hating myself, but knowing I owed her my honesty. “Jennifer, I have no answers. All I have faith in is superior firepower…and the certainty of my feelings for you.”
For a second, she looked disappointed, but then her lips twitched. A tear flowed down her cheek. “I can live with that.”
I leaned across the central console to brush my lips against hers. It was a gentle touch, but Jennifer leaned in and kissed me back with determined ferocity.
She broke off a moment later, raising her eyes to the sky before closing them. She was praying, I realized, and it was one of the loveliest sights I’d ever seen. I had no idea what she was praying for, but I didn’t care. The stark serenity on her face was enough for me.
We sat in the truck for a long moment. Even Tray, lying curled up on the floorboard at Jennifer’s feet, seemed to know something special was happening, but when Jennifer opened her eyes again…I don’t know. I felt…something. It was probably all in my head, but it felt like a part of my heart I’d willingly turned to ice had melted, just a little.
It was enough for me to look up at the sky and think, “Okay, big guy. You up for a road trip?”
I put the pickup into gear and pulled away from the lodge. As I glanced back at the receding building in my rearview mirror, my heart clenched. I knew this would be the last time I’d ever see it. Jennifer put her hand over mine and squeezed gently. I looked over at her with an encouraging smile, and I didn’t look into the rearview again.
The sun was as high in the sky as it got this far north at this time of year. We had a good four hours of daylight to reach the main roads, where we could drive fast enough to avoid the Treaters, but I pushed the truck as hard as I thought was safe. The last thing I wanted was to get caught in the woods at night. I was pretty sure the Treaters were still miles away, but I wasn’t willing to take that chance.
Then, as we were about to crest the saddle between two hills that marked the final stretch down to the highway, Tray began to growl. Jennifer started awake. I swear, the girl could sleep on a postage stamp.
She stiffened in her seat. “What is it? What’s wrong?” Her voice was stressed, almost panicky.
I didn’t know what had spooked Tray until the hood dipped as we crested the rise.
Oh, fuck!
Jennifer saw it, too, and she grabbed my hand as I up-shifted and sped up. The 4x4 bounced over the occasional pothole and broken limbs. My heart raced, but I wasn’t about to slow down.
All around us, tree branches drooped. As I rounded a bend in the road, I saw a tree settle down into the ground. It didn’t fall. There was no crash. It was like something reached up and pulled it into the earth, like a sinking ship slipping beneath the waves.
“Did you see that?” Jennifer’s voice quivered with terror.
“It’s fine, honey,” I said, as calmly as I could with my heart thundering along with the impact of the tires hitting the hard asphalt. “We’re almost there. Another ten minutes, we’ll be on the highway.”
Tray’s growls quieted to a steady rumble. She jumped onto Jennifer's lap and stayed there, her front paws perched on the window, occasionally barking at something only she sensed.
I glanced around as we barreled down the bumpy road. The forest was a sickly blend of yellow and brown, the pines stripped of their rich needle foliage. The green I’d expected to see on the side of the valley was gone, and an awful realization hit me.
If we’d stayed at the lodge even a few hours more, we’d have been surrounded. We’d drawn whatever this was to us. Even out here, it had felt the life that remained in the valley, and it had come for us.
Fuck!
Whatever this was, it wasn’t the Treaters; at least, not just them. I knew there were more of the “dens” like the one I’d found at the O’Reillys’ cabin, and I knew there were thousands, if not millions, of Treaters on the planet. But those things existed to rip and consume flesh. This…leaching of life itself, this deadening of the grass and trees…this was something else.
Something was systematically draining all the life from this planet. I felt lead in my stomach when I acknowledged the idea. The initial attack of the Treaters hadn’t been an invasion. It had been an extermination. What this was now, I had no idea, but it was fucked up.
I was on the edge of panicking myself, but I had to stay strong for Jennifer. I started at the sharp bend and the sudden “Yield” sign, braking hard to avoid sending us over the ravine on the opposite side of the road. Normally, I’d have recognized the on-ramp, but the terrain was alien to me now. I pulled the truck to a stop and took it out of gear, keeping my foot on the brake. I needed a second. Just needed…
“Fuck!” Evidently, Jennifer felt the same.
Tray yipped her agreement as well.
“Are you okay?” I checked Jennifer, and was relieved when she nodded. Tray was still up and yapping at the windows, so I knew she was fine.
I looked around, orienting myself on the route I knew so well. The clock on the dash said three p.m., but the length of the shadows made it appear later in the day than that. I frowned, watching the dashboard clock. As I watched, the display flickered, and the engine skipped. What the fuck? Then I looked at my watch.
It was a Timex. My dad had given it to me on my fifth birthday, and it was one of the only things I had left of his. I had wound it religiously every night for thirty-six years. Now, it showed it was almost four p.m., and darkness was gathering around us.
I glanced at the dash clock as I turned the truck around. 3:01p.m. What the fuck did that mean?
Before I started driving again though, I turned to Jennifer. “If I ever complain about men being better drivers than women, you have my express permission to kick my ass.”
***
Jennifer
It ended up taking us two days to get to my hometown of Deadwood, South Dakota, after camping out in the basements of dead peoples' houses the two previous nights. The first night had been terrifying. Neither of us knew for certain if Jaz’s theory about being safe underground was true, but there hadn’t been any sign of the Treaters, thank God.
By 10:30 a.m. on day three, we were driving through the city center of Deadwood. The sight sickened me. Jaz had been right about roads being blocked on the way down – hence the delay – but Deadwood was eerily deserted.
Deadwood had never been one of those high-rise cities, preferring to have streets lined with two or three-story buildings set a
round a central government district. It looked like a large small town, even though it was still, technically, a city.
Jaz had wanted to avoid the city altogether, and I loved him for it. There were a few routes we could have taken that would have done so but I’d begged him to bring me here. I'm not sure why … it was my way of getting closure, maybe. All the TV shrinks and snake oil salesmen said you needed it; who was I to argue?
The scene as we drove down the main street was grim. Snow drifts softened the corners of the buildings and doorways, and mud sat in the few businesses with yards. The city had had a few hours’ warning, but it hadn’t done any good. A handful of military jeeps littered the street, most with their windshields smashed in, but there were no tanks. Ellsworth AFB wasn’t that far from Deadwood, but I guess they didn’t just leave their tanks lying about. Did the Air Force even have tanks?
Tray whimpered. Maybe she smelled the death that still lingered in the air five months after the catastrophe. I ruffled her ears, and held her close to me, whether to give comfort or receive it, I didn't know.
“Are you okay?” Jaz asked, as he navigated through the ruined vehicles.
I nodded, unwilling to break the deadly silence surrounding us. He’d told me about the dead towns, but he hadn’t gone back to his own home in Eureka. He’d known how fruitless it would have been, but…I was different. I needed this.
We approached an intersection, the traffic lights sitting dead on their poles, like dim, dark eyes watching us. “Turn right here.” My heart gave a lurch as we passed the cinema where I’d gotten my first summer job. Its doors were oddly intact, but after considering it, it made sense. Nobody would have wanted to watch a movie when the ultimate horror show was happening before their eyes.
I shuddered when I saw St. Ambrose’s Church…my church. Its doors lay in splinters scattered over the threshold, and every stained, arched window had been smashed in. The scene played out in my mind. I couldn’t stop the images as they flashed through my brain. Dozens of worshippers – dozens of my friends – locked inside, praying for salvation and protection against the oncoming storm. Only it didn’t do them any good. These creatures didn’t care about God, Jesus…anything other than killing. I averted my eyes as Jaz drove past, trying to hide the tears.
I knew I’d failed when he reached across the console to squeeze my knee. “It’s okay to cry, y’know.”
That opened the floodgates, and I did begin to cry, and then to sob. Tray jumped up from the floorboard onto my lap, where she proceeded to lick my tears away as fast as I could cry them.
We were nearly there, I realized, and my breath caught in my throat. My voice failed me, so I just pointed to the next right turn. Jaz pulled off and the businesses gave way to houses.
We drove for another minute before I said, “Left here.” We pulled onto the quiet cul-de-sac, and my heart sank like a stone. I don’t know what I’d expected. Jaz had told me about finding Tray in a place similar to this, but part of me was trying hard to remain in denial.
It was like the picture Jaz had painted in my mind when he’d told me about the town where he’d found Tray, only this time it was on the familiar canvas of my home. Straight ahead, at the end of the street, stood my house, the windows and doors smashed in. The thinning snow coverage couldn’t hide the craters in the normally pristine lawns of mine and my neighbor’s homes. It seems like the Garrets had been caught in the middle of trying to clear out – their minivan was essentially smooshed. There were weapons of all kinds strewn around the McNally’s and Henderson’s yards and heavy sand bags had been set up to make bunkers… to no avail. Most of the bags had been split open, shredded by vicious claws, covered over by snow, and now part of the earth again. It was…insane.
“This was a last stand,” Jaz said, his military mind confirming what I had suspected from the Halloween night when I’d heard all of this happen, the last time I’d heard my mom’s voice on the phone.
We pulled up outside the front of my house. My mom’s Honda was still in the driveway. My heart clenched as I realized there was no sign of my dad’s car. He hadn’t made it; maybe he hadn’t even gotten as far as the Deadwood limits before…
I shook the thought out of my head. I didn’t want to imagine what had happened to him, not when I was about to face the grim reality of what had happened to my mom and little sister. I reached for the door handle, but Jaz laid a gentle hand on my shoulder.
“Jennifer,” he said, his voice soft, tender…and a little pleading. “You don’t have to do this.”
I turned to look at him and saw his eyes, too, were silver-lined with moisture. Oh, my God, this must be so hard for him as well, I thought, but I patted the back of his hand, composing myself. “I have to, Jaz. I…I haven’t been able to say goodbye. I need to do this.”
He dipped his head. Oh, shit. He hadn’t had a chance to say goodbye either. In fact, by the time he’d returned from the fishing trip, his adopted family, the O’Reillys, had probably been dead for days. Guilt rose, squashing my grief for a moment, but he raised his eyes to meet mine. There was a determined gleam that hadn’t been there before, and he took my hand, squeezing it gently.
“Mind if I tag along?” His lips curled into one of his lopsided grins, and it instantly defused any tension – real or imagined – between us.
I didn’t say anything, just nodded. It was like a knot unfurled within me, realizing I wasn’t going to have to do this alone. I’d never thought to ask him if he’d come in with me, although I knew if I had, he would have been at my side in an instant.
He glanced around, making sure all the windows were open just enough to let some air in. It was still pretty cold, so there was no danger of Tray overheating, but he’d told me about the dog’s talent for escapology, so I smiled.
A moment later, we stood hand in hand in the ruined doorway of my home. A sudden rush of dread washed over me, but there was something else…relief, maybe? I took a tentative step forward, letting go of Jaz’s hand to steady myself as I stepped over the ruined shards of the door that hung loosely by a single mangled hinge.
I let out a squeak when I saw the interior. It was a wreck. There were huge gouges on the walls and floors, and one of the interior walls had a hole in it, as if something hadn’t wanted to bother with doors.
Then there was the dried blood. It was everywhere. I didn’t think it was possible for so much blood to come from just two…
I threw up. I hadn’t even felt it coming, but I slumped to my knees and retched while I sobbed. I don’t know how long it lasted, and I was dimly aware of Jaz’s presence kneeling at my side, smoothing my hair away from the streams of vomit.
Fuck! I balled my fists and began to pound the floor as the sorrow gave way to anger, then rage. “Those bastards!” I kept hitting the floor, repeating the same two words for what seemed an eternity. My hands ached but I didn’t stop until Jaz pulled me into his arms and held me tight.
I cried until I was sore, my chest lurching with each deep, hiccupping sob. All the time, Jaz stayed silent, simply there, my rock. He stroked my hair and gently swayed with me, back and forth.
It took me a few moments to realize he wasn’t silent. He was singing; singing a song you might sing to a baby, a lullaby…was that Hushabye Mountain? It was barely a whisper, but when I looked up at him his face was also wet and tear-stained. He met my eyes directly, unashamed of the tears he shed for my family…and his own.
I straightened up, pulling back a bit from his embrace. “I’m so sorry, Jaz.” We held each other for a long time. This was his goodbye, too, so we went through it together, propping each other up physically as well as emotionally.
The sudden beeping noise almost made me jump out of my skin. Shit. It was only Jaz’s phone, however. Not that it was a phone anymore, but we’d been using it as an alarm to tell us it was time to start looking for somewhere to hole up for the night.
The plan was to get up at the crack of dawn, drive a solid six hours, then st
art looking for sites around noon. I’d wondered at Jaz’s rationale, and had asked him why we had to start looking so early in the day. He’d explained we needed to have one or two definite hiding places to “fall back” to. Apparently, overextending yourself was one of the no noes in the military. Who knew?
A thought hit me. A rather absurd one, if I wanted to be completely honest with myself. Jaz had already stood up and was reaching down to help me up.
“C’mon, Princess,” he said, smiling, even as his eyes shone with moisture. “Let’s ship out.” He started to lead me back to the front door, but looked back at me with furrowed brows when I resisted. “Jennifer, we need to find somewhere…”
He must have read my mind, or maybe it was the way I looked at the staircase. “You can’t be serious?”
“Want to see my bedroom?” I dragged him slowly to the bottom of the stairs, then paused and mentally kicked myself. “Too weird?”
Jaz shrugged. “Maybe a little.”
He was right, of course. How could I expect this man to come upstairs to what he had to suspect was a little girl's room? I’d banished all the pink fluffiness the summer I turned fourteen in favor of a more mature color scheme, but he didn't know that.
I let go of his hand. “I just want to go and have a look.”
He nodded, but I heard the stairs creaking as he followed me up. I was grateful. I didn’t know what to expect when I reached the top, but when I did, I let out a breath I didn't realize I’d been holding.
It was undamaged, all the doors intact. The door to my parents’ room was open, letting the sunlight splash out onto the landing. I hesitated briefly, but instead of going in, I shut their door. I’d said my goodbyes downstairs. I passed Jessica’s room, my fingers bushing the handle, but again, I resisted the urge to enter.
Then I stood in front of my bedroom door, and Jaz stood silently behind me, a short distance away. It was like he didn’t want to intrude, but at the same time, he knew I might need him. My heart gave a little skip as I opened the door.
Treaters: Book One of the Divine Conflict. Page 14
