by Siara Brandt
There. She’d said it. It was finally out in the open.
He gasped, literally gasped, as if he couldn’t believe what he had just heard. “Why would you say that?”
“Why do you think I would say it?”
Oh, she could see that he was getting ticked off now. How dare she confront him. His anger had been growing by the second because he wasn’t getting what he wanted from her and because he didn’t want to deal with this. Right now he looked like he was going to choke on the rage that was reddening his face. There was nothing like a little anger to cover up guilt.
“Where are you getting this from? Because obviously someone has been filling your head with lies.”
“Are you going to deny that you have been seeing Regina? That’s really pathetic.”
An explosion, from the direction of town, startled them both.
“What the hell was that?” Mace asked, angry at the interruption.
She saw his nostrils flare as he drew in a slow deep breath and re-focused.
“Pathetic? What’s pathetic is you bringing this up again. I make one mistake and you’re never going to let me forget it. You have been just waiting to accuse me again. Admit it. You don’t trust me.”
So now he was trying to say that this was her problem.
“All right. I don’t trust you. What you still can’t understand is that you earn trust.”
As she stood there, she realized that she wanted one last thing from Mace. For him to finally confirm what she already knew.
“Look at me and tell me that I’m wrong.”
But he couldn’t do it, of course. At least she thought he couldn’t do it. But then he fixed her with a hard gaze and she knew something less than honest was coming. She could see it in his face. It would be some kind of justification. Some kind of blame shifting. “You don’t know- ” he began.
She held up a hand, silencing him. “Before you say another word- I’m warning you. Don’t insult me by denying it. Because this time I’m not going to pretend nothing happened just to make it easier for you.”
That shut him up.
“You think this is some kind of game we’re playing?” he asked incredulously, apparently still desperately searching for a way out.
“I never thought it was. And what you’ve done to me is unforgiveable.”
Perhaps it was his desperation. Or maybe it was just his way of looking at the world. At her.
He looked over his shoulder and lowered his voice. “Brian better not get any ideas. Because that- ” His dark gaze moved slowly and lewdly down her body. “Belongs to me.” He jabbed his thumb into his chest as he leaned forward and invaded her personal space. “If school wasn’t letting out, I’d be tempted to tear your clothes off and take you right here,” he said crudely. “But I’ll wait till I get you home. When you’re not so- distracted.”
“We won’t be doing anything tonight,” she informed him, deciding then and there that being alone with him would not be a good idea. Not even to talk.
When she turned toward her bus, he grabbed her arm to stop her. She shook it off violently, repulsed by his touch. “Don’t,” she hissed. “Don’t ever touch me again. The thought of his hands on her filled her with a rage so consuming that it surprised her with its intensity.
“I won’t let you waste any more of my years with lies. I deserve better. This marriage,” she gritted. “Is over.”
“Like hell it is. You want me, too. Don’t try to deny it.”
“Don’t make an ass out of yourself,” she said, the coldness that was seeping into her heart finding expression in her voice. “Whatever we had died a long time ago when you first decided to cheat on me.”
She was through arguing with him. She got on her bus, but he boarded right behind her and gripped the back of her seat. “You’re the only one that I want. I’ll prove that to you. Tonight.”
It sickened her to think that he was so sure of his power over her, that he thought that she would allow him to seduce her in light of everything she knew.
“Liar,” she breathed, and then repeated it with more emotion as she pounded her fists on the steering wheel. “Liar.”
“So you’re going to choose to believe everyone else over me?” His tone was changing now. There was an ugliness behind his words. A threat.
Boom.
This second explosion was an even bigger one, and like the first one, it came from the direction of town. Now, when she looked, she could see smoke in the distance.
“Get off the bus, Mace.”
While she continued to stare in the direction of Willow Grove, he made one last attempt to control the situation. And her. “I’ll see you at home and we’ll settle this there.”
“You don’t live there anymore,” she informed him without looking at him. “We’re through. Do you understand that? I’m filing for divorce.”
She must have finally gotten through to him because the air suddenly rushed out of him. He let go of her seat and drew back as if she’d slapped him.
“You need to get off the bus. Now.”
But he didn’t get off the bus. He swore, viciously and profanely, all his inner venom unleashed and making his face grow dark with fury. The look in his eyes almost frightened her.
“Get away from me,” she gasped. “Or I- ”
“Or you’ll what? Call Brian for help?” His eyes hardened with cruel mockery. “You can’t keep me out of my own home. I pay for that house.”
And so did she.
“Where do you expect me to go?” he wanted to know.
“That’s your problem. Maybe Regina will take you in.”
She turned her face towards the boisterous clamor of children being released early from school.
“Get out. Now.”
He had no choice. After a last savage glare in her direction, he wheeled and left the bus.
Dragging her gaze away from his retreating back, Tessa took a deep breath and tried to settle her thoughts. The emotional toll of their confrontation had left her limp and trembling. She swung around in her seat and closed her hands carefully around the steering wheel.
That’s when she heard the sirens go off. She looked up, wondering if there was a freak tornado heading towards them in spite of the cloudless sky.
Virgene Larkin’s voice came over the radio, their only communications left, telling her to get the kids boarded and get them home now. Something was wrong in Willow Grove. Something was very, very wrong.
Chapter 8
_______________
Like everyone else around her, Ailin froze when she heard the sirens. While the ear-piercing blast continued, she shifted the trembling dog in her arms and fumbled in her purse for her cell phone. She didn’t know what was going on, but she needed to find Edmina and Bevanne. She didn’t know if they were at the hotel by now, or if maybe they were still shopping. Since there were roadblocks on the roads leading out of town, she didn’t know if she could even get to the hotel or the antique store if she did find out that they were at either of those places.
The battery must be dead on her phone. She tried to think back to when she had charged it last. It had been last night, hadn’t it? Maybe it had been the night before.
Something serious was happening around her. And whatever it was, it wasn’t good. Had the US been attacked? Were they at war? Maybe it was a terrorist attack. Or some other kind of invasion. Some kind of natural disaster wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility.
Whatever it was, it had to be the reason why the TV and the internet were down. And now the phones weren’t working. If it wasn’t a dead battery, then this was really getting serious. She shoved her phone back into her purse and looked up to see a scene straight out of a war movie. The bridge was being manned by armed soldiers. Behind them, more soldiers were hurrying into position. She gazed helplessly around her. The hotel was on the other side of that bridge. And she couldn’t get to her car, either, because it was still parked behind the other roadblock. If she could
get across the bridge, she would have a chance of reaching the hotel. But how was she going to do that now?
Apparently she wasn’t the only one who had the same idea of crossing the bridge. She started moving along with a large group of people headed in that direction. It wasn’t a conscious decision. She just got carried along with the crowd. But outside of the bank, a soldier stopped her from going any further. “You’re not going anywhere.”
She got bumped hard by someone behind her. It propelled her forward. The soldier stepped in front of her and held her back with a hand on her shoulder like it was her fault. It was the second time someone with a gun had gotten in her face that morning. “Lady, I said no. You’re going the wrong way.”
The crowd swarmed in a single-minded mass as it got shoved back onto the sidewalk by a line of armed soldiers. In front of the newspaper office, Ailin felt herself being pushed back against the brick wall right next to the glass doors that said: WILLOW GROVE GAZETTE. Two seconds later, the doors opened and three soldiers stepped outside.
As their boots hit the concrete, one of them called out, “Get them out here,” One of the soldiers held the door open.
Hemmed in from every direction, Ailin managed to work her way back from the door. She didn’t want to be caught up in the crowd again but she didn’t have any choice. She was surrounded on all sides. She couldn’t see anything that was going on because people were blocking her view. The dog whimpered when Mabine Raley pressed against him, nearly crushing the tiny dog against Ailin’s chest. His fierce growl warned Mabine and she whirled around as best she could, then edged away from them. Mabine was a large woman and the crowd parted as much as it was able. Still the smell of her sweat hung on the air behind her. It blended with the smell of fear, both from the dog and from the people.
Ailin was trapped, with no choice but to remain at the back of the crowd. Everyone’s attention was on the soldiers, so no one was paying attention to her when she slipped through the open doors of Beau’s Bar and Grill. Suddenly free from the crushing crowd, she found herself standing alone in the shadowy interior of the bar.
The place was empty. The soldiers must have already cleaned it out before they had gone on to the newspaper office. The dozen or so small tables of dark polished wood were unoccupied and the long bar was lined with vacant bar stools. There were also several booths near the end of the bar and these, too, were unoccupied. There were plastic baskets still half filled with food setting on the tables, along with ketchup bottles, napkins, and bottles of beer. Someone had left a jacket over the back of one of the chairs. But there were no other signs of life, just the quiet hum of fans that could barely be heard above the noise of the crowd outside. And then the fans stopped and everything went dead as, apparently, the power went out.
Behind the counter she found a pair of tennis shoes. She set the dog down on the floor. “Stay,” she told him, pointing a finger at him to reinforce the command, hoping he understood at least a few simple commands. Luckily the dog sat down before her and obeyed. For a reward she fed him what was left of someone’s hamburger. Then she poured some water into a bowl and set it on the floor.
She didn’t know who the shoes belonged to but they were close to her size and they were something she could run in if she had to. The high heels weren’t only uncomfortable. They were dangerous. She would pay the owner back later. If later ever came. For now she needed to think her way through this and somehow find Edmina and Bevanne.
She heard the sound of truck engines starting up outside. The smell of diesel mixed with the smell of fried food. The dog whimpered as it looked up at her.
She heard a man’s voice above the idling of the engines and realized it was a soldier. “You people. Let’s board up. Now.”
She had just finished tying the laces of the second shoe when the distant rattle of gunfire startled her. It was just a few shots, but there was an immediate, almost hysterical reaction from the crowd. Were they actually shooting people who did not obey them? Or was it just to get their attention?
“Shhh,” she told the dog and then peered cautiously out of one of the windows from behind the checkered curtains. She waited, frozen at the window, gripped by a sense of dread, a premonition, perhaps, that something was about to happen. Something bad. Apparently the people felt it outside, too. Or something was happening that she couldn’t see. A hush fell over the crowd.
She realized with a start that a soldier was looking straight at her. But to her surprise he didn’t do what she expected him to do. He didn’t give her away. Instead he put his arm slightly out from his side and moved his palm downward several times as if he was telling her to get down and hide. That more than anything else made her afraid of what was about to happen.
She heard footsteps on the sidewalk outside and immediately ducked down. Two soldiers stopped right outside the open window but they were facing away from her.
“Who the hell set off those sirens?” one of the men asked in a deep, authoritative voice.
“A firefighter. And that guy in the Civil War uniform.”
Then she heard: “We just got a report of what we think might be a primary source of infection at the hotel, Captain,” another soldier said breathlessly as he ran up to the other two. “Local police are already responding. He took a knife to one of the hotel guests.”
Ailin pressed her hand against her chest to still the sudden pounding there. Edmina and Bevanne were at the hotel.
“And they stopped one at the gas station at the other end of town,” she heard.
“What’s his condition?” the Captain asked.
“He’s dead.”
“Was he- aggressive?”
“Like a freaking rabid dog,” came the answer. “Someone said that both men weren’t from around here. They looked like foreigners. Dark skin. Black hair and beards. Loose clothes that looked like they came straight out of the desert. One of them was seen praying yesterday. And the one at the gas station was yelling Allah Akbar before he was killed.”
The Captain, who still had his back to her, cursed under his breath. “Have everyone put bio gear on.”
Bio gear? This was worse than she thought.
Ailin watched as soldiers hurried to put hazmat suits on. The Captain’s broad back was still towards her. When he turned, she had a clear view of his face, even with his helmet on. His profile held her gaze as she wondered how any man be so cool and deliberate in the face of all this chaos.
She heard the Captain ask, “Do they have someone looking at the body?”
“Yeah. Snead.”
After a pause, she heard one of the soldiers say, “Hell, this changes things. You know that.”
The Captain didn’t reply.
“So we’re gonna lock these people up in close quarters with other people who might already be infected?”
“It’s not like they won’t be monitored,” Ailin heard. But this time the Captain didn’t sound so sure.
“But if the infected really do turn into zombies- ”
“Hell, Rafe, what do you think is going to happen when the infected do start arriving and these people aren’t in a secure place? We need to do what we were ordered to do. We need to gain control over the town and get these people to safety. Let’s make it happen.”
The younger soldier straightened and lifted his hand in a salute. “Sir.”
Zombies? Primary source of infection?
Ailin knew that some kind of epidemic had broken out across the country, but whatever the disease was, there was no such thing as zombies. There couldn’t be. Why, then were these soldiers talking about zombies? Why were they even here in the first place? Had things gotten that bad? That quickly?
Like a freaking rabid dog.
She couldn’t get the phrase out of her mind. She wished now even more than before that she had worn jeans instead of an impractical skirt that was slit halfway up the back. At least, she reminded herself, the gym shoes were better than the high heels had been.
She saw that some people were eager to go into the trucks now. The ones that didn’t know what else to do. The ones that were too scared to make it on their own or couldn’t make a quick decision one way or the other. But Ailin had already decided that she wasn’t getting in one of those trucks. And there were plenty of other people who apparently didn’t want to, either.
“Just get in the truck,” a soldier growled to a man who was having trouble deciding what to do. The soldier’s voice was muffled by his hazmat suit. The man was Verlin Walby, the pharmacist who ran the drug store. He was a kind, soft-spoken elderly man who was liked by everyone.
“Get in the damned truck,” the soldier repeated the order. This time there was a definite threat in his voice and he took a step forward. When Verlin did not move quickly enough, the soldier jammed the barrel of his rifle hard into his white-clad back. Verlin had already started to climb into the back of the big green truck, so the force wasn’t necessary. When Verlin turned to protest, the soldier shoved harder which had the elderly man teetering on the metal step.
That only made Verlin more uncertain. He clearly wanted to get out of the truck now and he tried to do just that. But he slipped off the step, pitched forward and went down hard on his hands and knees in the street. It was a bad fall and Verlin was having a hard time getting up. Things went downhill from there. Ailin stared in shocked horror as another soldier walked over and brought the butt of his weapon crashing down on Verlin’s temple.
The blow was so brutal that Verlin’s head snapped sideways and hit the ground. After his head hit the curb, he didn’t move. He just collapsed onto the concrete and didn’t get up again. Blood began seeping out from underneath his head. It was a small town. Everybody knew Verlin. To see him lying there in a pool of his own blood had an immediate effect on the crowd.
The stunned silence that gripped the crowd was followed by the sharp crack of gunfire. A single shot. Someone screamed. Far down the street, a woman - Ailin thought that it was Elsie Blanden, a cashier at the grocery store – was crawling on her hands and knees. She suddenly vomited something dark all over the pavement. Blood maybe. Ailin couldn’t tell from this distance. Another shot sounded and Elsie collapsed in a heap in the street with a red hole in the center of her forehead. She didn’t move.
