Reversion

by Paul B. Kohler

  “North, I think,” Alayna said, her eyes defeated. “There was no way to be sure, Clay. As far as we know, they could have seen us and turned around once they were out of sight.”

  Silence fell, the room filled with tension. Clay ticked his tongue against his teeth, assessing her words. When he spoke, he chose his words carefully.

  “Maybe this story could trigger something in Alex’s mind,” he said. “I think we should talk to him. Maybe you could describe their vehicles. What they looked like—”

  “I really don’t think you’re getting back in there tonight, Clay,” Sam said, her eyes stony. “That kid’s a basket case. He’s anemic and can barely remember his name, let alone remember some vehicle, that might—only might—lead us to Malcolm’s compound.”

  Clay burst from his chair, furious. Raising his chin, he snapped, “I wouldn’t have expected such compassion for Malcolm’s son out of you, Sam.”

  She slammed her mug on the table between them, causing a small crack to form at the base.

  “I just think you’d be an idiot to waste your time, Clay. Although let’s be real. I think you’re an idiot anyway.”

  Chapter 8

  It was just past midnight. Clay sat at the edge of his bed, his mind spinning over Alayna’s news. After Sam had bolted from the room, Clay had pressed Alayna for more information: the make and model of the vehicles, how many in the group, what their tactics had been, and so on. As Alayna answered, her face had grown progressively greener—eventually sending her from the room to be sick. Clay’s thoughts spun obsessively, dismissing Alayna’s illness for now. After all, his daughter was the one in real danger. And couldn’t Alayna handle herself?

  Standing, Clay trudged down the hallway to Alayna’s bedroom, knocking softly on the door. It took several seconds for Alayna to appear, though she was still wide awake. She sighed.

  “I suppose I knew you wouldn’t let this wait till morning,” she said. “You wouldn’t be you if you did.”

  “Just a few minutes with him. You can help me explain it,” Clay said. “You were the one there, and I don’t trust Hank and Walt to have the memory you do. You’re—you’re still my deputy, in a sense.”

  Alayna allowed a slight smile. “Well then, we have to play good cop, Clay. We have to make this kid think we trust him. Use the old police tactics. Don’t let your anger get the best of you. Okay?”

  Clay felt the truth of her words and tried to restructure his thoughts. He played them over in his head, the ones that had worked in the past—in other interviews—before the end of the world. Listen, we’re on your side. We’re just trying to figure out what happened here. We’re just trying to find the truth.

  Clay and Alayna arrived at Alex’s door. Alayna said, “Lane’s supposed to be on duty, outside the door. I heard her mention it to the doctor earlier. But it seems like, well. She’s—”

  “We don’t have much time,” Clay said, knowing they’d gotten lucky. He cracked open the door, and a slit of light drew over the edge of the bed. The boy’s eyes flicked open almost immediately, as if he’d been waiting for them. As if he’d always known Clay wouldn’t allow this to lie.

  “Hey there, Alex,” Clay said, flipping on the light switch. The brightness was alarming, even for Clay. It seemed to capture the emotion of the moment. The volatility of it. Everything had to happen; everything had to be said. It had to be now. “Don’t suppose I can have a bit of your time?”

  Alayna followed Clay in, her face pale in the light. She sat at the edge of the bed and comforted Alex, her fingers caressing his. This mothering shook Clay for a moment, but he shrugged it off and started pacing.

  “Alayna saw some people out and about town today. A group of them, who took off in several green SUV’s. Alayna says they were heading north.”

  Alayna leaned closer to Alex. “Do you think these people could be from your father’s compound?”

  Alex pressed his eyes together tightly. He seemed to be analyzing their words. And just as Clay was about to grab his shoulders and shake him like a doll, Alex’s eyes popped open again. He smiled happily, almost excited

  “Oh, God. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it before!” Alex said. He pushed himself up, still smiling his grey, anemic smile. “Of course! That’s exactly where it is.”

  Clay was incredulous. He stopped pacing and stared at the boy, unsure if this was a genuine moment between them. He tried to read the wrinkle on his forehead, the tilt of his chin but he couldn’t. After a pause, he said, “Are you sure?”

  “Absolutely,” Alex tittered excitedly. “Oh yes. I had my bearings wrong, because, you see, I oriented everything from where I grew up. You know, when you think places are north that aren’t really, just because of where you’re driving from? That’s probably what happened. Anyway. I think that’s it. The compound, it’s up that stretch of highway, by the old Wal-Mart.”

  Clay sat down beside Alayna. He remembered the big-box store. It was dilapidated, with countless holes punched through the sign. He visualized the road, how it twisted up toward the mountain. Could that be where the compound was? Tucked between the peaks?

  Alayna smacked her hand over her mouth and jumped from the bed. If it was at all possible, she looked even greener than before. Her eyes said everything that needed to be said. She barreled through the door and dashed down the hallway.

  Clay and Alex were alone—a feeble boy and a burly ex-sheriff. Clay was struck by a sudden wave of guilt that he’d forced the information from the boy, but he wanted to ask him again about Maia. What they’d talked about. What they’d done together. But he held his tongue, recognizing that these questions exposed his weakness. And he couldn’t give in.

  Chapter 9

  Alayna bolted down the hallway, finding a trash can in the corner, near the steps. Unable to make it any farther, she leaned against the wall and retched. The resulting vomit was nothing but bile, as she’d not eaten a thing since the night before. She spat afterward, feeling hollow. The world spun around her.

  She felt the chill of a washcloth on the back of her neck. She leaned forward, feeling the cool water trickle down her spine. “You can’t imagine how good that feels,” she murmured. “Like jumping into a lake on a really hot day.”

  Lane dabbed the chilled rag higher on her neck. She took Alayna’s hand and led her to her hotel bedroom, sitting her on the edge of her bed. Lane knelt down, cupping Alayna’s knees and stared up at her. Her eyes were honest and pure. Alayna felt sure they could dig into the depths of her soul.

  “Your symptoms are getting worse?” Lane asked. “From the nanites?”

  Alayna’s fear returned. Anxious thoughts coursed through her mind. She tried to smile but failed miserably. “I’m not sure. Every time I think the stomachaches are gone, they come back with like, triple the force.”

  Lane tilted her head, and said, “I think there’s something else going on,” she said. “Remember, after Clay reached this point of his exposure, he started to feel stronger. Like a superhuman. Do you have any of that, at all?”

  Alayna considered it. She remembered the weakness that crept through her arms the day before when she’d been trying to carry a box of supplies. Even down to her bones, she felt weak, strung out. She’d collapsed against the side of a house, gasping for oxygen and hoping that Hank and Walt couldn’t see, or wouldn’t notice.

  “No. I don’t think so,” Alayna replied.

  “Then I really think we need to talk to the doctor about this,” Lane said. Her fingers stretched out over Alayna’s knees. “We can’t let this get any worse. I don’t think you’re contagious, but you can’t run yourself into the ground like this. At this rate, you won’t be able to eat or sleep, which could kill you, anyway. And just imagine, if you’d run into one of them, you wouldn’t even be able to get away.”

  Alayna fell back on her pillow, staring up at a small crack in the ceiling. She was exhausted, her muscles stretched thin. How many times had she thought about death in t
hat room? How maybe, after living through so much of this post-apocalyptic world, she wasn’t entirely sure she had it in her to keep going. It was clear that Clay didn’t have the capacity to love her. And Megan? She was long gone. Probably dead.

  What was any life if Alayna couldn’t have love?

  “Just promise me you’ll think about seeing the doctor,” Lane said, sitting at the edge of Alayna’s bed. “It doesn’t make sense to suffer like this. Not when there could be answers.”

  Alayna’s fear caused her eyes to fill with tears. Embarrassed, she turned toward the wall and curled up into the fetal position. Recognizing that she wasn’t up to conversation, Lane went to the door and turned off the lights. “It’s going to be all right, Alayna. We’ve had each other’s backs for weeks. Know that I will always have yours,” she said softly.

  Chapter 10

  “We should have brought it,” Marcia scolded Daniels. She sauntered along, her hips moving hypnotically, left and right. Brandon watched as her ass cheeks almost danced before him: a sight he’d grown to appreciate, despite the fact that they’d been walking for two days.

  “I told you. Taking the only scooter those assholes left behind didn’t make a lick of sense,” Daniels replied, finally growing frustrated with Marcia. “Having one person riding the scooter out ahead would put them at incredible risk. We’d probably find them half-eaten, or else they’d meet us somewhere ahead and try to eat us instead. I wouldn’t put that on anyone. We have to stick together.”

  “So much of the group has split off, it’s not like together is really a word that works in this context anymore,” Brandon said, feeling a strange stirring of anger. He was hungry, starving, and much of their supplies were depleted. He’d been crunching at granola bars throughout the morning and feeling his lips grow dry and cracked beneath the sun.

  “Brandon, I don’t need your attitude, too,” Daniels sighed. “We’ve got enough issues with Miss Priss up here.”

  Marcia flipped her greasy hair, waving her half-painted fingernails so that they flashed in the last of the sun. Leland continued to walk silently, having to slide his glasses up his nose every few minutes.

  “I think we would have been fine. You worry too much,” Marcia said to Daniels, her voice high-pitched and irritating. “Adam, if I had half the gun you do, I could handle this team and probably even gotten us to Earlton by now. But since we have to play by your rules …”

  That’s when Brandon spotted it: a glow at the horizon line. He stopped short, staring at it as if it was a beacon of hope. Stretching his hand across his heart, he squeezed his eyes shut and then reopened them, wanting to make sure he wasn’t living out some strange illusion.

  “Guys!” he called out.

  Marcia, Leland, and Daniels continued to walk.

  “GUYS!” Brandon cried again.

  Leland swung around, bringing his eyes to Brandon. He followed Brandon’s eyes toward the horizon and stopped too; his feet scuffing against the rocks on the pavement. “Holy shit,” he breathed.

  Daniels and Marcia were speechless. They stared at the glowing light, until, finally, Marcia and Leland exclaimed in unison, “EARLTON!”

  Daniels gave them an almost ominous I told you so smile, and said, “No. That’s not it, guys. The military base is still a couple hundred miles away.”

  Brandon started back down the road, toward the light. He listened to the others chatter around him.

  “That means the town has power. Which could also mean they have a whole lot of supplies,” Leland uttered the first words he’d spoken in hours.

  “That’s a great point,” Marcia said. “Maybe a girl could get a decent shower around here. Although I can’t say I’m the one who stinks the worst.”

  “It seems crazy to just walk into a town like that, without knowing what or who it is,” Daniels opined, taking his place as leader once more. His massive form cast a shadow across Brandon’s body. “What if we walk in there and it’s just filled with the crazed? What if it’s a place that’s built it up in their heads that the entire rest of the world is to blame for what’s happened? I mean, they could be volatile …”

  “But we’re out of supplies. And, like you said, Earlton is still several hundred miles away,” Leland said, his voice racked with emotion. “I don’t know how you think we’ll survive past this town, if we don’t at least take a chance and stop there.”

  “And we could maybe find a vehicle!” Marcia cried, smacking her hands together. “Which would could get us to Earlton within a day, Adam!”

  Brandon tilted his head toward Daniels, watching as thoughts spun through his mind like a spiderweb. They walked nearly a half-mile more until the highway swung out and met the town. The exit sign read RIDGEWAY, written in cursive. It had been decorated in a cutesy manner: with paintings of trees and wildlife. Beneath it, someone had written the town slogan, “Our home along the ridge.”

  “Fuck it,” Daniels said. He turned toward the exit, leading the others toward the glowing light. “But know this, I’m going to blast anyone that gives us a lick of trouble. I don’t want to hear any arguments. Especially you, Marcia. I don’t need any more trouble from you.”

  Brandon felt a wave of apprehension as they left the highway for the shadows of the exit. No one had the energy to speak, not even Marcia. As they drew closer, he felt that familiar fear pulsing through his every inch. Another adventure. How tired he was of adventures.

  Chapter 11

  The following afternoon, Alayna and the doctor were in the privacy of what had been designated as his office, far in the east wing of the hotel. Alayna buttoned her shirt, casting her eyes away from the doctor as he made several notes on a clipboard. She felt just as embarrassed as she ever had back in the old days of doctor’s visits. Even at the end of the world, she had her pride. Spreading her legs wide in front of anyone still gave her pause.

  “Do you know what’s wrong with me?” she asked, her voice tentative.

  The doctor’s lips parted for a long moment. He seemed to inhale deeply, pausing, and filling Alayna with adrenaline.

  But at that moment, the door burst open. Alayna blinked up into the gorgeous eyes of Clay, who seemed wild, manic.

  “Well, Clay. I would like to thank you for taking the time to knock,” the doctor said, his voice irritated.

  Clay ignored him. He reached Alayna and put his hands on her shoulders, staring into her eyes. Her heart fluttered with desire. She yearned to rest her head against his shoulder, to hold him close. But it was clear that Clay’s heart was beating a million miles away.

  “I’ve spoken to the others, and they want to track down your lead,” Clay said.

  Alayna blinked several times, uncertain what Clay was talking about.

  “I want you to come along with us if you think you can,” he continued. “I can’t imagine doing it without you, to be frank. But only if you’re feeling up to it.”

  Alayna felt her stomach lurch, but in a good way. This was the first time Clay had invited her on an actual adventure, something beyond the “safety” of supply runs. Adrenaline pulsed through her, even as the doctor clucked his tongue, preparing to say something—probably that she shouldn’t go, that she shouldn’t even consider it.

  “Of course I’ll go,” she said, her eyes dancing. “Damn straight.” She leaped up from the table, feeling fluttery, wild. She pushed back against the nausea. “I’ve been waiting for a chance to actually do something around here.”

  Clay laughed, tossing his head back. Alayna sensed that this joy was merely him getting one step closer his daughter, but she still reveled in it: feeling his happiness like sunshine on her face.

  “What do you think, Doc? Think my deputy can get out for some fresh air?”

  The doctor didn’t answer, merely made another note on his clipboard. Alayna gave Clay a gentle punch on the arm. This was their forgotten dynamic.

  “When are we going?” she asked.

  “Easy there, deputy,” Clay said wi
th a wink. “We’re not going till the sun sets. We want to be stealthy.”

  “But of course,” Alayna said, wagging her eyebrows. “I couldn’t imagine it any other way.”

  “We stand a better chance of not getting caught at night, of course. So we’re all planning on grabbing a bit of rest and meeting in the community room at nine-thirty tonight.”

  Clay eyed the doctor’s thin frame. “So what of it, doc? Is she gonna be all cured?”

  The doctor sneered at Clay, sliding his clipboard across his desk. “What ever happened to doctor-patient confidentiality?” he asked.

  “I figure that went out the window around the time most of our doctors turned into crazed, brain-eating monsters,” Clay said, his eyes glittering.

  The doctor leaned his head close, so that his long, thin nose was mere inches from Clay’s. “I’d say that’s an even better reason to honor these things. The further and further away we get from human decency, the more we need it. Wouldn’t you say, Clay? Or is human decency not really a part of your lexicon anymore?”

  Chapter 12

  Clay, Alayna, Walt, and Hank headed north from the hotel at just before ten that evening, each armed with three guns and wearing thick jackets, hats, and gloves, against the chill. Clay ranged ahead, sensing something guiding him toward the compound. Something about this mission filled him with hope, and he felt renewed, charged. And even with Alayna—his deputy—there, things felt as if they were finding balance again. As if he was in control.

  The team didn’t speak throughout much of the trek, which involved a two-hour walk up the highway, crunching over the dilapidated pavement. They were alert, hunting for any sign of the crazed around them. Every shadow moonlight shadow stirred Alayna’s soul, reminding her that she hadn’t been “out in it,” in ages. Perhaps she wasn’t as confident as she’d been on their journey to the hotel. Perhaps she’d lost her reflexes.