by Peter Clines
‘Doesn’t sound like it ended up being that funny.’
‘Not really, no. Yesterday I said I was hungry too many times and that was that.’
Holly nodded. She’d met people tossed outside for dumber reasons over the past few weeks. ‘You have any sort of plan?’
Angie pointed north. ‘There’s another sanctuary up in Los Feliz. Some big old condo or apartment building or something, just off Hillhurst. Another one up by Runyon Canyon. I was going to try to get into one of them.’
‘How far is that?’
The blonde woman shrugged. ‘Maybe seven or eight miles. I’m not sure. Never walked it before.’
Holly looked at the sky. ‘Call it eight. We might make that by dark, if we’re lucky.’ She took a few steps up the road. ‘Lead the way.’
* * *
They marched through Hollywood, past the tall walls of film studios decorated with gigantic posters of movies and television shows. Angie talked quietly but constantly, pointing out minor landmarks or mentioning some event from her life. She was thrilled when they saw a plastic tricycle abandoned on a street corner.
‘I worked at a Toys R Us out in the valley,’ she explained. ‘Took the train out there every day. I put bikes together.’
Holly tried to act interested. ‘Really?’
‘Yeah. Bikes, Big Wheels, all those wagons and little cars. Supposedly I was one of the only women in California in that position.’
‘Yeah?’
‘Yeah. Well, I don’t know. The district manager was trying to get in my pants, so he mighta just been saying that.’
Holly smirked. ‘I thought you liked sex.’
‘I do,’ said Angie. ‘Doesn’t mean I’m giving it away. What about you?’
‘I used to work for Hewlett Packard down in San Diego. I sold printers.’
‘Like, computer printers?’
‘Yeah. I did all the really big accounts. Big companies. Governments. They flew me all over the place.’
‘Wow,’ said the blonde woman. ‘You ever been to England?’
‘A dozen times, easy.’
‘What about Paris?’
‘Yep.’
‘What’s the last place you got to go before...’ She gestured around them.
Holly took in a deep breath. ‘China.’
Angie whoofed out some air. ‘No way. When?’
‘I was on one of the last planes out.’
‘Wow.’
‘The sad thing is, it was probably the best trip of my life. I got a free upgrade to first class. I had a four hour layover in Hawaii and a really good-looking guy flirted with me in the bar for half of it. I closed a major deal.’ She shrugged. ‘I heard about the first few cases while I was there. It wasn’t until the day I left that I heard how bad it was getting. I got on my plane and they pretty much slammed the door behind me. I think the quarantine was declared seven or eight hours after I touched down in San Diego.’
‘Jesus.’
‘Yeah. I was lucky. I knew a couple people who weren’t. People in the China office who got trapped there.’
They walked in silence after that. The road was getting steeper as they climbed up toward the Hollywood Hills. They both saw the handmade signs at the same time.
The good Sanctuaries all looked pretty much the same. They had sheets of plywood over all the lower windows, often slipped beneath the iron bars that already protected them. One main door, usually made of expanded steel, with a big open space cleared out in front of it. Three or four sentries on duty at all times.
It was the bad ones you had to look out for. There were ones that counted on security glass or jury-rigged barriers to keep out the junkies. Word was already spreading about some that were decidedly—sometimes aggressively— racist or homophobic or orthodox for one religion or another. There were even whispered stories of gang-rape and Satanist and even cannibal Sanctuaries, but from what Holly had seen in her six weeks of traveling, they were just stories.
Of course, California was a pretty progressive state. Even when the edges had crumbled off civilization. It was probably worse in a lot of other places.
The Runyon Canyon sanctuary looked to be one of the better ones. Angie walked toward the gate and Holly grabbed her arm. ‘What are you doing?’
‘I was going to knock.’
Holly glared at her. ‘You want to get shot?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘You never walk up to a sanctuary, especially if it’s got signs out. Walking up means you can’t read the instructions or you can’t wait. Which means you’re one of them. So just stand still and wait.’
They waited. Angie shoved her hands in her back pockets. Holly watched the shadows creep across the pavement. She leaned the baseball bat against her thigh and crossed her arms.
There were four guards on duty. They made a point of ignoring the women for a bit longer, then one of them stepped closer to the gate. ‘Can we help you?’ He had a ring of hair around a pale, polished scalp. Classic chrome dome, flitted through Holly’s mind.
‘Hi,’ said Holly. Her stage whisper carried across the street. ‘We were hoping to spend the night inside.’
‘We don’t have much room,’ he said. ‘And no food.’
‘Not looking for food,’ she said. ‘Just a place to sleep. Even outside’s fine.’ She gave a nod at the walls of the building. ‘As long as it’s an outside that’s inside.’
A couple of the guards chuckled.
‘Okay, ladies,’ said the chrome dome man. ‘Strip. Everything off.’
Holly’s knuckles whitened on the bat. One of the guards saw and raised his pistol.
‘Come on,’ said the Dome. ‘It’s not like that. You know we’ve got to check you for cuts and bites.’
Holly furrowed her brow. ‘But it’s a job with perks, right?’
He managed a tired smile. ‘Hate to let you down, but I’m happier when guys show up. Nothing personal.’
Holly set her hands on her belt and tugged at the leather end. Angie had already slid out of her jacket. She unbuttoned her blouse to reveal a low-cut bra with pink polka-dots the size of quarters. Holly sighed at the sight of it. How was the girl supposed to run in something like that?
The guard with the pistol shook it at Holly. ‘What are you waiting for? Hurry it up.’
‘What’s the rush?’ Holly took her hands off the belt. ‘You having trouble waiting? Maybe some impulse control issues?’
She heard the murmur from the gate and saw a few people shift away from the man. The Dome gave him a harsh look. ‘Hey,’ said the man. ‘It’s not like that and you know it.’
‘I don’t know anything,’ she said. ‘For all I know you got infected a week ago and you’ve been passing it to everyone in there.’
‘He hasn’t been infected,’ said the Dome, ‘but I’m wondering why you’re hesitating.’
Holly gave him a look. ‘What would you think if I was in a rush to get my clothes off? You’d just use that as proof I’m early stages, right?’
Angie’s fingers fumbled to a stop on her jeans. Her blouse and shoes were off and her fly was open. She started again, making a show of how slow she moved.
The Dome nodded. ‘Fair enough.’
‘I just want to take my time and make it clear that I’m not infected.’
‘Whenever you feel like it, then,’ he said. ‘Just understand we’ll be sealing up for the night in about twenty minutes.’
She slid her belt out of the loops and caught the holster as it fell free. Twenty minutes wasn’t much time. She’d have to hope for the best. Three shrugs of her shoulders got her hoodie down on the ground, draped over her backpack. Her fingers worked their way down the buttons of her blouse, showing off a sleek sports bra.
Angie was sliding her pants down over her knees. She was shivering.
Holly took a breath, closed her eyes, and let her shirt slide off her arms. She heard the gasps. The Dome muttered something.
She opened
her eyes and looked down at her arms. The left one had two circular scars the size of limes. On one, you could make out the individual teeth marks. Her right arm had three matching marks—two on the forearm and one on the bicep.
‘I know what you’re thinking,’ she said.
‘I’m thinking you better get out of here damned quick,’ said the Dome.
She held up her arms. ‘Look at them,’ said Holly. ‘Really look. These bites are old. They’re scars.’
Two of the men peered a little closer. The Dome wasn’t one of them. Neither was the impatient guy with the pistol.
‘These are old bites,’ she repeated. She spoke in a stage whisper, slow and clear, something a junkie could never do. She held the arms closer to the gate, turning them so they’d catch the red light shining in from the west. ‘They’ve been healing for almost two months.’
Pistol-guy shook his head. ‘You get bit you’ve got a week, ten days tops, and then you’re a junkie.’
‘That’s right,’ she said. ‘Exactly right. So if I’ve got bites that have already become scars, what’s that mean?’
The Dome pulled out a pistol of his own. ‘You really need to be getting on your way, ma’am,’ he said. ‘I’m real sorry, but you know we can’t let you in.’
‘Don’t you get it?’ Holly thrust her arms out again. ‘I’m immune. The virus doesn’t affect me.’
‘No one’s immune,’ said the Dome. ‘They found that out really quick.’
‘I’m immune!’ She fought to keep her voice calm and slow. ‘I’ve been bitten half a dozen times and I’m fine. You can let me in.’
‘Ahhh, hell,’ said another man. ‘Both of them.’
She whipped her head around.
Angie stood there wearing nothing but her polka-dot bra and a green pair of boxer-briefs. She had her feet turned in at odd angles, and Holly thought she was trying to be modest. Then she saw the bruise on the other woman’s inner thigh, just below the hem of her underwear, and the dark scab of blood where the skin was broken.
‘You bitch,’ Holly muttered.
‘Pair of lesbo junkies,’ said Pistol-guy. ‘What a waste.’
Angie sniffed. She reached down and gathered up her clothes in a colorful bundle. Her cheeks were wet.
The Dome leveled his weapon at Holly’s head. ‘The two of you need to go,’ he said. ‘Now.’
‘Look,’ said Holly, ‘I barely know her. I didn’t know she was bitten. But it doesn’t change the—’
‘I’d rather not shoot you,’ he said. ‘You haven’t changed yet. But I will if I have to.’
She took a breath. ‘Please,’ she said to the Dome. She met his gaze over the pistol. ‘Listen to me. Look at the scars. You know I’m not infected. If you’ve got any doctors they can vouch—’
‘I’m going to count to five,’ he said. ‘If you and your girlfriend aren’t at the end of the block, we’ll shoot you both.’
Holly took in another breath. ‘I’m telling you, I’m not infected.’
‘One.’
Angie scampered a few feet away, the bundle of clothes clutched against her chest.
Holly looked him in the eye.
‘Two.’
‘Fuck you,’ she said. She bent down and scooped up the belt and pistol. Her shirt and hoodie slipped through the strap of the backpack. Her boot caught the handle of the bat and kicked it up into her hand.
‘Three.’
She marched down the road after Angie. She heard the Dome call out one more number. He never finished his count. They walked for another block, just to be sure.
‘I’m sorry,’ said the other woman. ‘I didn’t think they’d make us—’
Holly hit her in the stomach with the bat. It was a quick jab, and the air went out of Angie with a whoof. She dropped her clothes and fell to the ground.
‘Why didn’t you tell me?’ growled Holly. ‘You could’ve gotten us both killed.’
‘Hey,’ snapped Angie. To her credit, she flinched when she realized how loud she was. ‘You’re bitten, too.’
‘But I’m immune,’ said Holly. ‘I almost had them convinced and you messed things up.’
‘You didn’t have them—’
Holly raised the bat.
Angie shut up. She grabbed her jeans and wiggled into them on the ground. They slid up her legs and hid the bite.
‘Do I even want to know how you got that?’
‘My boyfriend,’ she said. ‘He went out searching for food. A couple of them got infected somehow. We were fooling around. I just thought he was being kinky and got a little carried away.’
‘So your sanctuary threw you out?’
Angie paused and looked down at her half-buttoned blouse. ‘After they killed him and the others, yeah.’
‘How long ago?’
‘I told you, just last night.’
‘How long ago were you bitten?’
‘Two nights ago. He bit me, they realized he was infected the next day and threw me out.’
‘So two nights, that’s it? Forty-eight hours?’
‘Not even. Barely even.’
Holly sighed and set her backpack down on the ground. She pulled her shirt on and tied it in a quick knot across her chest. ‘Sun’s almost down,’ she said. ‘I need to find somewhere to sleep.’
‘What are you thinking?’
Holly yanked the hoodie up. ‘I’m thinking I can’t trust you. Go find your own place.’
‘What? Come on, it was just two days ago. If I’m infected it’ll take another three or four days before anything happens.’
‘So I trust you for two days and then what?’
‘I don’t know. If you leave me out here alone I’m just going to die.’
Holly slung the backpack across her shoulders and snatched up the baseball bat. ‘You’re infected. You’ve got six weeks, tops.’
‘Unless I find someone with the cure.’
‘What?’
Angie climbed to her feet and tugged her jeans up an inch. ‘There’s a cure. People talk about it all the time.’
‘There’s no cure.’
The other woman shook her head. ‘If you soak the bite or the cut or whatever in hydrogen peroxide before symptoms set in, it can kill the infection. That’s why you can’t find it in stores. People took it all.’
‘Of course they took at all. It’s basic first aid.’ She reached up and rubbed her temples with her free hand. Then she glared at Angie. ‘Seriously? Hydrogen peroxide? Do you think things would be like this if you could kill the infection with something you can buy at Target?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Angie. Her cheeks were wet again. ‘What am I supposed to do? I don’t want to die. I have to do something.’
A cry echoed from somewhere south of them. Another one answered it.
Holly sighed. ‘Come on,’ she said. ‘Let’s find somewhere safe for the night.’
* * *
The RV was parked six blocks away from the sanctuary. They found it just as the streetlights were flickering to life. The Los Angeles power grid was a delicate balancing act, but for now it was still working in more places than not. Everyone knew it wouldn’t be that way forever. Probably not for much longer.
The door was locked, but Angie scampered up the rear ladder and pried open the skylight. Inside was dry and kind of warm. Holly yanked all the drapes shut and propped up a few thin cushions from the seats and benches to block the windows even more.
They found bowls and silverware. There were a few cans of soup and half a box of crackers in the cupboards. It made for a fine dinner. They sat at the table on the cushionless benches and could almost pretend the world was fine for a little while.
Junkies howled and groaned outside. Some of them sounded close. Angie looked at the wide windows. ‘Are we going to be safe in here?’
‘They don’t like enclosed spaces,’ said Holly. She set her bowl in the sink out of habit. ‘If we keep quiet and don’t give them a reason, they won’t come in
.’
‘You sure?’
‘I’ve been doing this for over a month now.’ She shook out the thin blankets on the bed. They were a bit dusty, but clean. She stared wistfully at the cramped shower for a moment and then set her backpack down on the shelf next to the bed.
Angie looked at her, then at the bed. ‘How are we going to—’
‘Do you snore?’ asked Holly.
‘I don’t think so, no.’
‘Then you can have half the bed.’
‘It’s not going to make you feel—’
Holly’s hand swung across her throat in a quick slash. She didn’t blink. She pointed past Angie to the window.
A shadow moved across the drapes, bold and dark from the streetlight. It was someone with wild hair and thin shoulders. The shadow shifted as the junkie stumbled a bit closer.
Angie clapped her hands over her mouth. Holly looked at the bat. She’d leaned it in a corner near the bedroom entrance.
A loud groan came from outside the camper, followed by a string of nonsense syllables. Another moan came from somewhere nearby. Then a third voice gibbered for a few moments.
Another shadow moved across the drapes. They could only see the top of the head. Then another. And another. They could hear the dull slaps of uneven footsteps and the faint rustle of fabric.
There was a bang and the RV rocked. Angie cried out, but behind her hands it was just a squeak. Holly glared at her.
Something heavy hit the outside again. It was closer to the window. Still on the opposite side from the door. They heard moans and hoots and nonsense chattering and then hands were pounding on the wall of the camper. Some of it sounded like slapping palms, some like knuckles, and some like hammering fists.
Angie stared at Holly’s hips and nodded. It took Holly a moment to realize she was looking at the pistol. She shook her head and Angie nodded harder. The other woman reached for the holster and Holly stepped back, putting her hand near the baseball bat.
The pounding lasted almost a minute, then settled down and ended. The cries and shouts and gibbering started back up, punctuated with a few snarls. Rubber and leather and bare skin smacked against the pavement as the pack suddenly burst into motion and ran howling down the street.
