The Last Peak (Book 2): The Darwin Collapse

by Oday, William

  “Okay.”

  Theresa dug through her backpack and pulled out a white N95 respirator mask and secured it to her face. She pulled out blue latex gloves and stretched them over her hands.

  Her dad checked the mask and tightened it a little. “Let’s observe first.”

  She nodded. Made sense. If anyone or anything came after them, good luck messing with the Bronco. This old tank could probably bulldoze through a house in a pinch. They watched in silence for a few minutes. She watched how her father turned his head back and forth, constantly scanning in every direction.

  “Seems quiet,” he said in a hushed tone. “This is how we’re going to do this. I want you right behind me at all times. If I stop, you stop. If I get down, you get down. If I run, you run.”

  He flicked a look at the holstered Glock at her hip. “You only draw that if I am unable to defend us. Understand?”

  “Yes,” she replied.

  “Good. Get your headlamp and backpack on.” He looked her over and blew out a deep breath. “Let’s go.”

  He met her on the passenger side and they crept toward the house that held so many happy memories for her and, yet, now seemed so full of nightmares. Her dad moved with his gun drawn and pointed a few feet in front of him.

  She watched him and marveled at the transformation. He was no longer the annoying father that snooped through her texts or shoved his overprotective nose in where it didn’t belong.

  He was an animal in his element.

  He moved like a predator on the prowl. A creature of the night welcoming the end of day and the return to the shadows. It sent chills up her spine and set the hairs on the back of her neck on end.

  He appeared deadly calm, which made the hammering in her chest all the more violent. He stopped at the door and dropped to a knee. She did the same. He held his finger to his lips while listening through the door.

  They stayed there for a few moments. She started to wonder if maybe he’d forgotten what they were doing and was lost in thought or something.

  He tapped her shoulder and brought her attention back to the present. He nodded and tried the doorknob. With the faintest click, it opened a sliver. He paused to listen again.

  Nothing.

  In a burst of speed, he swept inside, flicked on his headlamp and scanned the front room with his Glock following his eyes back and forth.

  Empty.

  He eased the door shut behind her and brought his mouth to her ear. “Leave your light off until we need it.”

  She nodded. She took a deep breath and immediately regretted it.

  Even through the N95-rated filter, the air stank of rot and disease. The Pearson’s didn’t have a pet, so the most likely source of the stench wasn’t hard to figure out.

  Mason tapped her shoulder and waved for her to follow.

  As they moved deeper into the darkened house, a wild scream bubbled up in her throat and threatened to tear free.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  In the living room, cords hung out of the wall above the fireplace where a huge flat-panel TV once hung. All of the family pictures that had lined the mantle were now on the ground, images trampled and glass shattered. The cabinets on either side were either open or missing the doors altogether. Old VHS tapes and newer DVDs were scattered all over the carpet. A large, irregular patch of charred black in the middle evidence that a fire had briefly burned.

  Mason motioned her on. She took a step.

  CRUNCH.

  A plastic DVD case cracked apart underfoot. The sound shattered the silence like the gunshot that starts a horse race. They both froze, expecting a response and thankfully not getting one.

  They moved through the kitchen and on toward the back of the house. The stench grew stronger. They encountered nothing living through the remaining rooms and finally came to the closed door that was Holly’s parent’s room.

  The odor was so thick Theresa could feel it on her skin.

  Mason turned to her and whispered, “Stay out here. You don’t need to see this.”

  She nodded. She had no desire to add some gruesome scene of decomposition to the material that already invaded her nightly dreams.

  He opened the door just enough to slip through and disappeared inside. The light from his headlamp bounced dimly back into the hallway through the opening.

  Theresa’s chest started to hurt. A dull ache that squeezed tight, making it difficult to breathe. She sucked hard through the filtered mask that was beginning to feel like a plastic bag. Her fingers tingled and her head swam. Her pounding heart echoed in her ears. She leaned against the wall trying to catch her breath.

  Mason appeared and shut the door behind him.

  “Holly’s parents are gone.”

  Theresa slumped to the floor. Tears cascaded down her cheeks and soaked into the cotton mask. She heard a low moaning and was only dimly aware that it was coming from her mouth.

  Her father pulled her up with ease and wrapped his arms around her. “I’m sorry.” He held her in place as her numb legs supported no weight.

  Something inside Theresa broke free and the dam behind her eyes collapsed. A river of grief flowed from her soul and onto his chest. He held her tight until the torrent eased to a trickle. “I can’t believe she’s gone, Daddy.”

  “I know, honey. I know.”

  “I want my best friend back.”

  Another wellspring of anguish billowed up, but then sputtered when there was nothing below it to continue building the pressure.

  “Can I go to her room?”

  “I’ll go with you,” he said.

  “Can I do it alone?”

  Mason considered and then answered, “Yes. Just be careful. I’m going to look through the kitchen to see if anything useful might be left.”

  “Okay.”

  They walked together back to Holly’s room. Theresa clicked her headlamp on to the dim setting.

  “You sure you want to do this?” Mason asked.

  “Yes.”

  “I’ll check on you in a few minutes.”

  She stepped into the bedroom that was once occupied by her best friend in the world. The place was a total mess, which wasn’t all that different from when Holly had lived here. She sat on the mattress on the floor and looked around. A torn Death Before Life movie poster hung from the wall above Holly’s bed. Holly used to say she loved waking up with Ryan’s hot body on top of her.

  A choked giggle escaped Theresa’s lips as she remembered Holly bragging about how she’d fall asleep gazing at the poster and then find Prince Charming in her dreams. Her very non-Disney, and shockingly explicit, dreams.

  That was Holly.

  And she was gone.

  Theresa shone her headlamp around the room, as much in the present as in the past that dwelt more deeply in her heart.

  A sparkle in the corner of the room caught her eye.

  She swept across the area and there it was again. Probably a shard of broken glass. She got up and shoved aside filthy sheets and clothes that might’ve once been Holly’s.

  There.

  Lodged in the corner where the carpet met the wall.

  A fine silver chain.

  She dug in with her fingernail and pulled it free.

  A silver locket in the shape of a heart. The letters BFFs engraved on the surface.

  Her heart broke in two as she wedged a fingernail into the seam and popped it open. Each half contained a faded picture of each of them in third grade. Theresa remembered giving the locket to Holly for her ninth birthday like it was yesterday.

  She pinched it closed and pressed it to her chest over her heart. Holly was gone. But Theresa would never forget her.

  Never.

  A noise from outside the bedroom made Theresa jump. She turned around and saw nothing. It sounded like a door opening or closing.

  “Dad?” she said in a loud whisper.

  There was no reply.

  “Dad! Is that you?” she said a little louder.

&nb
sp; Still no reply.

  She stuffed the locket in her pocket and crept out of the room. A shuffling sound and then what was definitely a door shutting froze her in her tracks. Her hand went to the holstered Glock at her hip.

  It had to be her dad. He just didn’t hear her. That was all. No reason to freak out.

  Her hand stayed glued to the pistol.

  She quietly made her way into the kitchen and didn’t see Mason. He said this was where he’d be, didn’t he?

  A strange sound raised the hairs on her arms. Like someone talking, but not using words she’d ever heard. She pivoted toward the sound and saw that the door to the garage was ajar. It had been closed when they came through earlier, hadn’t it?

  Had Mason gone in to check for anything else worth taking?

  She listened for further movement. All she heard was the hurricane squall of her own breathing, like she had a stethoscope stuck to her nostrils.

  She tiptoed to the door and still heard nothing. Maybe it was noth—

  There it was again!

  Her dad must be out there, probably looking for gas or tools. Stuff you’d find in a garage. She pulled the door open and stepped inside. She edged around Mr. Pearson’s shiny black Land Rover and didn’t see or hear anything.

  Maybe she was imaging things.

  Maybe she’d gone crazy. Who knew? Maybe she was actually napping in first period American History class because Holly had kept her up too late on yet another Sunday night.

  She headed back for the kitchen feeling like an idiot and trying to forgive herself for acting crazy in an objectively insane situation.

  She took a few steps and then an odd whimpering sound dumped ice water down her back. She flicked her headlamp to the far wall. There, nestled in a corner behind a deep freezer, was a woman crouched on all fours. Two young boys peeked out from behind her with terrified looks in their eyes.

  The three looked like wild animals.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  The woman wore a summer dress that had been torn to filthy rags. Twigs and other bits of debris poked out of a matted mess that once must’ve been beautiful dark hair. One full breast hung out where the cloth no longer covered. The ruined dress now revealed more than it hid. Scared but unyielding, she held the boys behind her. She blinked hard at the bright light in her face.

  “Sorry,” Theresa said as she angled the beam down a little. “We can help you. We have food and water, clothes for all of you. My mom’s a doctor. A vet actually, but she’s been doing fine working on people lately.”

  Theresa smiled awkwardly realizing her nerves were making her run at the mouth. She couldn’t imagine what these three had been through. She only knew she needed to help them.

  The woman stared with something between caution and curiosity in her eyes.

  “Sorry,” Theresa said, “I just didn’t expect anyone to be out here. Was a shock is all. I’m not normally this jumpy. Things out there have me a little on edge. Maybe a lot on edge. Anyway, we can help you.”

  She took a step toward them and the woman jerked like she’d been attacked. The muscles in her arms and legs coiled tight. She looked ready to spring.

  “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

  Theresa took another step and the woman tilted her head back and screamed. The primal desperation in the wail sent Theresa backpedaling. Another scream sent her sprawling back into the Land Rover. Her headlamp swung wildly across the wall and ceiling and back again as she tumbled back. The side of the Land Rover kept her upright and she realized with a start that she was looking at the boards that held up the sloped roof.

  More importantly, the woman was somewhere in the darkness below.

  She whipped her head down and zeroed it back in on the spot beside the freezer.

  It was empty.

  The oval of light lingered as Theresa’s brain tried to catch up to what her eyes were telling her.

  They were right there!

  That was the spot, right?

  Were they real?

  Theresa wheeled around the black void and the light found the trio again, now over beside a workbench. The woman held a hammer with the wrong end in her hand. She banged the wooden handle on the concrete floor. She drew her lips back to reveal a full set of teeth. She hissed a warning. They weren’t vampire teeth. Just regular human teeth. But she bared them like a rabid beast.

  Another cone of light appeared at the doorway to the kitchen.

  “Put the hammer down!” Her father’s gun fluidly tracked the woman as he bounded into the garage and landed in front of Theresa. “I said put it down!”

  The mother howled at Mason but showed no signs of obeying. Of even understanding, really.

  “Are you okay?” Mason asked.

  “I’m fine. She hasn’t tried to hurt me. Just protecting her kids I think.”

  “Please put the hammer down. I don’t want to hurt you or your children.”

  The woman still showed no sign of understanding.

  “Theresa, stay behind me and back up into kitchen.”

  Theresa did as she was told and they made it through the door without further incident.

  Mason slammed the door shut. He scanned the kitchen behind Theresa and then grabbed her hand. “Let’s go!”

  They jogged outside and jumped into the Bronco in record time. Mason fired up the throaty V8 and, unlike on their way in, gunned the engine and took off down the relatively clear street.

  Theresa held on to the dash as they bumped over the curb and tore through someone’s front lawn to avoid a snarl of cars at the end of the block. They turned right and broke clear onto Lincoln. The Rite-Aid pharmacy was a few blocks down, though not lit up at night like it usually was.

  Like it used to be was more accurate now. Their short trip had shown her a completely changed world. A world that was a distorted, nightmarish reflection of what it used to be.

  Mason slowed the Bronco and the roar of the engine subsided.

  “Dad, what was wrong with her?”

  “Stress can overwhelm the mind. Take away its reason. Make you do things you’d never normally do. I’ve seen it happen.”

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  MASON knew that pharmacies and other stores would already be looted, but the level of destruction still shocked him. The first stop at Rite Aid didn't last long when they discovered that it was nothing more than a burned out husk. It, along with the grocery store Ralph's next door, contained nothing but ash and melted amoebic structures that may have once been aisle shelves.

  The next stop at CVS wasn't much better. There was no evidence of past fires, but the pharmacy had been stripped bare. They now sat in the Bronco considering what to do next. Clyde needed antibiotics and Mason didn’t relish the idea of returning empty-handed. Another tragedy might be too much for Beth to handle.

  "I don't think we're going to find a store that hasn't been destroyed or picked over," Mason said.

  Theresa chewed on her lower lip and then paused. "What about Fernando's?"

  "You mean that little neighborhood corner mart on Rose and Main?"

  She nodded. "Yeah, it has a little pharmacy in the back."

  Mason could've smacked himself. He didn't remember because he never went there for anything other than a quick gallon of milk or bag of chips. "That's my girl. Thinking outside the big box stores."

  Mason fired up the Bronco and headed out, careful to avoid the tangles of overturned shopping carts and abandoned cars choking the parking lot.

  He drove slowly down the street now that night had fallen. The road ahead was darker than seemed possible. Los Angeles usually had so much ambient light bouncing around on the ground and up into the sky that there was almost no need for headlights. Tonight was different.

  Mason kept the headlights off because the high-powered lights in the sea of darkness would act like a lighthouse, a beacon to whoever and whatever lurked out there in the shadows.

  He waved the small beam of a handheld flashli
ght back and forth across the road, identifying obstructions and navigating up around them.

  "Dad, why did this happen? Is God punishing us?"

  Mason didn't know if the us meant them in particular or mankind in general, but his answer would've been the same either way. "I'm probably not the best person to ask about God's motives or actions. That said, I don't think a creator would cause this much suffering."

  "Well, then why did this happen?"

  Mason could come up with a few theories. From the overuse of antibiotics that for decades had been creating more and more resistant superbugs. To the accelerating deforestation of the Amazon and other wild places which put mankind into direct contact with various viruses and bacteria that had been out of the evolutionary loop for millennia. The same dynamic wiped out the Native Americans when Europeans arrived.

  From there, he could go even more conspiratorial (and yet no less likely to be true) and consider how governments around the world secretly developed weapons of chemical warfare. Genetically engineered microscopic strains that had the potential to wipe out all life on the planet.

  "I hope someday we find out so we can make sure it never happens again."

  They slowed to a stop at the corner next to Fernando's. They geared up and Mason led the way to the front door. In the light of his headlamp, he tested the wood panels that had replaced the busted out glass door. Nothing so much as creaked. Without making a whole lot of unwanted noise, they weren’t going to get in that way.

  "Let's check around the sides and back and hopefully find an easier way in."

  They skirted around the corner to the right and saw the familiar mural of waves crashing on a beach that covered the brick wall. They kept moving towards the back of the building with Mason scanning his light back and forth and his Glock in the low ready position. Nothing drew his attention nor the front sight of the pistol.

  Around the back they discovered a door partially ripped away from the frame and hanging on by the lower hinges. Through the open doorway, the interior was pitch black.