By now Simon had also walked over. “It’s all right,” he said.
Christie saw him look right at Kate. “We should just go.”
And Christie thought she could guess what Simon was feeling.
Such a terrible, heavy thought for a boy not yet a teenager to carry.
That thought: We’d better get out of here—now.
And thankfully Kate picked up on it, nodded.
Karen came over with the blue bag. “Christie, I’ve put some food in here. And grabbed some of these.”
She gave her the bag and then slipped a prescription bottle into her other hand.
“Antibiotics. Twice a day,” Dr. Martin said. “Until you run out. A few painkillers. Wish I could spare more. I’m afraid… they watch the meds as well.”
Christie nodded.
“Thank you. Both of you.”
“There’s also sandwiches in there, bottles of water.”
A nod from Christie, this plan seeming more mad by the moment, and at the same time, more inevitable, more urgent.
It’s time to leave.
But with a look at the closed door, she realized that the doctor had something else to say.
And Christie, flanked by her two kids, sat back down on the hospital bed.
“Look—it’s hard to say where one should go these days,” the doctor said. “North, south, east, west? Cities, open country? Small towns? The information we get… always so mixed. Cities look like war zones. Some small towns completely abandoned.”
“And we know less every day,” Karen added, shaking her head.
“But there was one thing I wanted to tell you. Not sure it’s a good idea, that it makes any sense for you.”
“You’ve been so helpful, doctor,” Christie said. “And you, Karen.”
“Wish I could do more. But here’s the thing. A few weeks back, there were even more people here. And another doctor.”
Christie nodded, listening, unable to guess where this was heading.
“Dr. Sam Collier. He had worked in Washington, studying this thing. But when it all took a turn for the worse, he came back here, to his home town.”
“And he left?”
“Yes. He said, well much as you do, that this place could turn into a trap. People were divided. There were fights…”
Christie grabbed Kate, then Simon’s hand.
No secrets anymore, she thought. The kids deserve to hear everything, know everything.
“He and a lot of others left. Dead of night. Wanted me to go, but, well, all these people staying… I couldn’t abandon them.”
“So, I stayed too,” Karen said.
“Where did they go?” Christie said.
“He had heard things. About people leaving the cities. To a place that could be safer, talk of food stockpiled from the summer. A place where they had still been able to have fields that produced crops. God, a place where there was even livestock.”
The doctor took a breath.
“More importantly, a place that could be defended.”
Then it slowly dawned on Christie why he was telling her this.
It was a bit of hope.
About something out there.
“He had a name, a location. Halfway between the Ausable River and Thunder Bay.”
Christie shook her head. “Where’s that?”
“Sorry. So far away. Thought he was crazy. Northern Michigan. Hunting country. Once. They would travel as a caravan.”
He took a breath. “Did they ever get there? Who knows…”
Christie nodded.
“They’ve been gone for weeks. Anything could have happened to them. And, God, so far away.”
He looked right at her then. “But rather than you just… heading out there.”
Christie nodded again.
That thought—leaving for who knows where—put an icy pit in her stomach.
Thinking that leaving here might be even more dangerous than staying.
“I can show you the area they were heading to… trying to get to… Sam was a smart man. If you find them, well, it might be ‘hope.’”
Hope? Christie thought.
A chance at survival?
Because that’s what all this is about.
The doctor pulled a spiral book from the blue bag on the bed.
“Hard to believe,” he laughed. “A road atlas. The entire US of A. So ‘old-school.’ Had this in my trunk. We all got so used to relying on our phones for everything.”
He handed it to Christie.
“Rand McNally,” she said, reading.
The doctor reached over and flipped the over-sized book open. “Here’s the spot. A few miles from Hubbard Lake. Other CDC scientists had gone there after Washington was overrun. You see… not easy to get to, even for Can Heads.”
Christie could see where Dr. Martin had circled areas.
“Sam… the people who left… they could end up there. If they made it. But you see, it’s something, isn’t it? A destination?”
Christie nodded.
“Michigan,” she said. “So far.” Then, “Thank you.”
“Not much help, I know,” the doctor said. “And I haven’t marked their route. They weren’t sure how’d they go, where it was safe, where it wasn’t. And what was safe then… may be dangerous now. Best use your instincts, ask people along the way. If you can trust them.”
He took a breath, as if the idea of what Christie and her kids were about to do seemed overwhelming.
“As to gas, food…”
Two more thoughts that nearly paralyzed Christie.
“We’ll manage,” she said. Not sure at all about that.
Another squeeze of her kids’ hands.
And then it was time.
She stood up.
“Somehow…” A look at Kate, Simon. “We’ve been through a lot.”
Then with as much confidence as she could project, “We’ll be okay.”
The doctor nodded.
“Best go, then.”
He walked over to the door. But, just before turning the knob, and getting ready to walk with them out to the main door—that entrance now looking as if it had been bombed—he looked at Kate.
“And you, Miss Kate. Drive slowly, carefully. Till your mom can take over.”
He smiled.
And Christie knew that no matter what lay ahead, she’d miss this man, his help, his humanity.
Then they all walked out to the hallway, and the way out of the hospital.
CHAPTER 14
Escape
Kate knew that backing up and turning around would be tricky for her, especially as she felt the eyes of people at the doorway locked on her.
There had been no one wishing them “good luck,” just a silent line of people glaring at them as they walked out.
“Steady, Kate,” she heard her mother say.
And while driving here, running away from the Mountain Inn hadn’t seemed hard, driving in the night, everyone so scared, her mother hardly able to walk now…
This… was different.
Everyone watching while we sneak away.
Bright sunshine hit the windshield, the eyes of the people on her as if waiting for her to hit something, to do something that would make them rush over, stop them.
Take our guns, take the little food they were given, take the car…
Steady, she thought.
Her hands grabbed the steering wheel as if it might fly out of hands.
Kate looked up to the rearview mirror. She knew that kids near her age took weeks, even months… learning how to do things like this.
Her mother had turned around to look at the fence just behind them.
“Okay. Close enough,” her mom said.
Kate took her foot off the gas pedal and—too quickly—braked.
Even at such a slow speed, the sharp braking made the car rock.
Then her mother turned and looked right at her.
“Now, just turn the wheel before y
ou move. Way to the right. Might be enough room for you to pull out, pull away. If not—”
“I know…” Kate said, hearing how her voice sounded strange, strained, as if her mother’s words were annoying her. “…I might have to back up again.”
With all those eyes on her.
She turned the wheel as hard as she could. And when it wouldn’t go anymore to the right, she took a breath. Foot on the brake, and now with what she hoped was the gentlest of touches, just pressing lightly, the car moved forward, with both her and her mother looking to see if they would clear the building, then the way out, off the hospital grounds, finally clear.
“Think you’re okay, Kate,” her mom said.
But to Kate… it looked like the left front corner of this car would hit the brick wall of the hospital building.
She shook her head. “It’s going to hit, Mom. I better back up. I…”
Then her mother reached over and put a hand on Kate’s left hand, locked on the steering wheel.
“You’re okay. It’s hard to gauge distance, things that come with practice. You’ll clear it.”
And then, as if her mother’s words made it true, she kept applying the smallest amount of gas, the car lumbering into its turn.
Where—amazingly—it did clear the building.
Straighten out, she told herself.
Her mother pulled her hand away, Kate again in control.
She eased the car to the gate, now fully up and electrified again.
On the side: piles of Can Head bodies that had been cleared from the entrance, their bodies, a grisly heap of blood and bone.
Like something from a blender, she thought.
She forced herself to focus on looking straight ahead.
Until they reached the gate. Another shift from the accelerator to the brake.
The gate not moving, not opening.
“Come on, come on,” she heard her mother say.
Kate was tempted to look back at the hospital entrance, a place where Can Head bodies mixed with the people who fought last night and didn’t make it.
From the back, she heard Simon’s voice.
“Mom, they’re not going to let us out.”
Kate wanted to tell Simon, Shut up. Just shut up. They have to let us out; they will let us out. Please…
Silence. Then over the rumble of the car’s engine, the whirring sound of a motor, and the gate slowly grinding opening.
That opening gate, such a welcome sight when they came to the hospital only days ago.
Now, the one thing between them and escape.
Because that’s what this was Kate knew—an escape.
The only question, What are we escaping to?
And when the gate was fully open, Kate looked at her mother.
A nod.
And filling her lungs with air, the tension unbearable, she gave enough gas to the car so that it lumbered out of the parking area, through the gate that she knew would quickly—and forever—close behind them.
Out to the road.
To whatever lay ahead.
Whatever lay ahead, she thought. And what would that be?
But for now, she concentrated on the task at hand, the now so-much-simpler task of driving the car slowly on the road, no sharp turns needed, nice and steady.
Never relaxing, hands still locked on, while nobody said anything.
*
Simon pressed the button to lower his window.
The car heater seemed to blast all its musty hot air right at him.
But as soon as he did, his mother turned back to him.
“Simon… best keep the window up.”
“It’s so hot, Mom. I can’t even breathe.”
As soon as he said the words he felt guilty.
He constantly told himself, got to be nice to Mom. After everything that’s happened to her.
And Kate too.
Kate! She had saved him.
He nodded. “Okay.”
“I’ll turn down the heat,” his mom said.
And Simon hit the button and the back window went up.
And when his mother turned back to the windshield, he looked out at this town they were driving through.
Thinking, Is everyone gone? Everyone that was left either inside that hospital place, all those grim-faced people? And the others turned into Can heads? I hate Can heads.
He realized something then. That the hate he felt was something so strong, so powerful… that just having that thought, he felt his body tense, fists balled.
Thinking… how much he wanted to shoot them.
After all they’d done to him. His dad, gone; his family running away.
And finally what was the most terrible thought.
There was a time when Can Heads didn’t exist. And that time was gone, gone forever.
And then a question that he doubted he could tell anyone, certainly not his mom, not his sister: Was this to be his life now? All the years ahead. This?
He looked at the handgun on the seat beside him.
His mom no longer asked for the guns, the bullets to be put away.
Not anymore.
Simon knowing that he could never be far from his gun.
And then as he went back to looking at the street outside, passing one house that looked in perfect shape, then another burned, a blackened wreck after some crazy attack.
That the three of them in this car were—for now—all they had. All that was left of their family.
His whole world was in this beat-up car that wasn’t even theirs.
The houses flew by outside, and trashed, burned out cars as well, while Simon kept thinking these things.
CHAPTER 15
Detour
Christie looked at the map on her lap while Kate drove quietly. She could feel her daughter’s confidence growing.
Now in the quiet, she studied the possibilities ahead, wondering…
What are we doing?
What are we going to do?
The Pennsylvania border was ahead, leaving New Jersey behind. Leaving the great cluster of cities of the Northeast. But ahead were big cities as well—Scranton, Allentown—all places she felt they had to avoid, any one of them a trap.
And the roads as well. The giant highways like 80 and 78 couldn’t be trusted.
But—now on Route 212—they were coming up to a town with a peaceful name: Clear Lake.
And Christie couldn’t help but look down at the gas gauge. Already well below one-quarter. Both her kids had eaten one of the sandwiches that Karen had given them.
She had decided not to eat hers.
Best to be safe, she thought.
Remembering so many books and films she had read about survival. When survival became an issue, rationing had to be done.
She didn’t stop the kids from eating theirs. Kate holding the wheel with one hand, Simon making his dry tasteless sandwich disappear even after saying, “I hate this stuff.”
Back to the map. The town just ahead.
When they saw a roadblock.
Sure. Not unexpected.
Men outside, standing around, a few smoking. Guns on their arms.
“Gotta slow down here, Kate.”
A nod from her daughter as she followed those instructions.
For a moment, with their car stopped right at their barricade, nothing happened.
Then one of the men climbed over the makeshift wall of lumber, old furniture, chunks of metal, and came around to the car.
The man walked slowly, cautiously, as if anything could happen.
And Christie had to think, Has it only taken these months for everything to get to this?
Barricades? Guarded roads? Men with guns everywhere?
And she felt something else at that moment as well.
This idea: Maybe these men aren’t just here to protect their small town with the bucolic-sounding name of Clear Lake, PA.
Maybe there were other things that they were here for.
He sta
rted to walk around to the driver side window, but Christie hit the button on hers.
“Hi. Sir…”
The word sounding ridiculous.
Sir.
“You can talk to me,” Christie said from the passenger seat. “Maybe you can help…”
The man stopped, looked at Kate, a teenage girl behind the wheel, then to Christie in the front passenger seat. He looked back at his fellow guards at the barricade.
Then he came around to Christie’s window.
“Hi,” she began again. “We’re heading west, toward…”
She named a city at the other end of the state, picked randomly in those moments the man ambled over “…Erie. Hoping to cut through here.”
The man shook his head.
“Erie, hmm? Well, don’t think you’re going there.”
Christie forced a smile. “Um… is there a problem?”
The man leaned down, now taking in Simon sitting in the back. His eyes looking tired, milky. Too little sleep, too much booze?
Too much… something?
“No one goes through here.”
She turned to Kate. Sitting here, they were just burning gas.
“Kate, shut the car off.”
“Look, lady,” the man said raising his voice, “I told you, you can’t go through here, so you’ll have to back up, and turn the hell around.”
Christie nodded quickly.
“Okay, I got it. No cut through. But can you tell me the best way west from here? I see there’s a route 61, and—”
“Don’t know about any of those other damn roads. The Interstate is ahead… if you can get to it.”
Christie shook her head. “No, we’re trying to stay off the big highways.”
The man grinned as if that idea was funny. “Good thinking right there, lady. Don’t want to get caught… on a long empty stretch of highway.”
Christie knew from few radio newscasts they’d picked up back at the Mountain Inn that the Highway Patrol had long abandoned the big highways, now forced back to deal with towns and cities overwhelmed with Can Heads.
And then… dealing with those others…
Human as she was.
But in some way, now even more monstrous, more dangerous. Driven by hunger, they captured people.
Like herds. Kept them alive.
Until they were needed.
In the rearview mirror, she saw Simon’s eyes locked on hers.
Family Page 7
