Connor trembled and moaned in his sleep through most of the night, while Riley dreamed of a little girl in a red overcoat. Though they were lost in their own nightmares, neither let go of the other while they slept and both were grateful for dawn, when the sun washed over them, and forced the dreams away.
***
I woke in Connor’s arms. He was talking in his sleep, calling out in desperation for someone named ‘Roan’. I could tell from the pain in his muffled voice, Roan must have been his son. I shook him gently and eventually he quieted, but the furrow on his brow told me he was still lost in an unfriendly dreamland.
I lifted his arm from my side and carefully rolled away from him, resting on my back in the middle of the bed and stared up at the ceilings antique copper-colored tin tiles that glinted in the early morning sunlight. I traced the Fleur-de-lis style pattern above me in random zigzags until I felt a headache building up behind my eye sockets. My palms felt cool as I pressed them lightly against the swollen heat of my eyes. When I opened my eyes again, an image of the little black-haired girl with blood dripping from her mouth escaped from my memory and I sprang upright…breathing hard and clutching the covers around me.
Jesus, did that really happen?! I thought to myself.
I glanced down at Connor, who was asleep, with a sullen look on his face, and felt compelled to shake him awake and ask him what had really happened on the street. It was obviously morning, and the events from the day before were hazy at best. I remembered running towards the girl, being surrounded by hundreds of dead, rotting people and when the little girl tried to speak to me, foul smelling blood rushed out of her. They touched me, I felt them. I heard their cries. They seemed so real.
I had pulled my knees up to my chest and was rocking back and forth on the bed when Zoey came into the room, a guilty look in her eyes. She approached the bed with hesitation until I patted the space next to me. I lowered my knees so she could lay her head in my lap and I murmured soothingly to her.
Connor woke with a gasp, which startled the dog off the bed and scampering to the doorway where she lingered there for a moment before quickly scanning the room and leaving. Her padded feet barely made a sound on the carpet as she walked into the kitchen and seconds later I heard lapping sounds coming from her water bowl.
When I reached out and touched the arm that Connor had draped over his face, he looked at me and smiled faintly but I could see perspiration building up on his forehead.
He swallowed hard before he spoke. “How are you?”
I considered my answer carefully. “I don’t know what’s real anymore.” I paused before asking him, “What happened yesterday?”
“What do you remember?” He sat up and scooted closer, but didn’t touch me.
A small trickle of sweat rolled down his temple and I almost reached out to wipe it away. Instead I turned and looked out the window at the bright blue sky.
I closed my eyes and cleared my throat. “Were they real Connor? The girl…the people…were they really there?” I kept my eyes closed, hoping he would ask me - What people?
His hand shook slightly as he ran it through his hair and down the back of his neck. “I’m not sure but I think they were real, at least for a little while.”
My heart sank into my stomach and I instantly felt nauseous. I whispered, “That’s not possible.”
He touched me then…his warm hand slid across my back and pulled me to him and I resisted the urge to cry. My throat was dry and hoarse, and sore. I didn’t want to cry anymore.
“I think you fainted. You didn’t wake up until we got back here. Do you want me to tell you what happened?” His voice wavered slightly.
I turned to look at him and nodded yes.
“After you started running I saw them. It was like they came out of nowhere.” He stopped to look around the room. “Riley, they went straight for you - there was nothing I could do. I tried to get to you, I promise. There were just too many of them. I’m so sorry.” He looked ashen and paused to take a deep breath before telling me the rest of the story. When he was finished we were both shaking.
“So…they just disappeared?” I asked him.
“I told you, it makes no sense but that’s what happened.”
“Are you saying we were somehow attacked by a mob of angry ghosts?” I stared at him, wide-eyed.
When he nodded, I let out a humorless laugh that chilled the room.
“Then where do we go now? Somewhere far away, where no one lived, where no one can come back to haunt us?” I spit the words out like they tasted bad.
Connor leaned forward and pushed the hair from my face. “Yes. We go to the mountains, like you said…where less people died.”
I pictured the girl, how she seemed oblivious to me on the street until the others came, and I recalled her outstretched hand and the expression on her face.
“Connor, I think she was trying to ask me something.” I blurted out.
“Who? You mean…the girl?” He asked, clearly confused.
“She was trying to talk to me. I think she was trying to say something.” I looked at him, and he stared blankly back at me. I turned my body towards him and rested my hand on his bent knee.
“I think she wanted…help.” I didn’t know why, but I felt it was true.
“But…” he stuttered, “She’s dead, isn’t she? Like the others? How can we possibly help them?”
I thought silently to myself. I don’t know what they want. I don’t know what to do, but we should try, we should try to help. The voice inside my head changed, as if my conscience was ripping itself in two. I can’t stay here. There’s no one to help us. It’s hopeless.
“I don’t know what to do Connor, but I can’t stay here.” I replied painfully.
CHAPTER TEN
If the dead were seeking us out by the hundreds, I wanted to be as far away as possible from the miles of metal, concrete and glass that entombed my fallen citizens; it was time to leave the city. Connor had luck finding the keys to the F250 in the employee locker room, which meant neither of us had to search any dead bodies.
By noon we had mostly filled the bed of the truck and I stood before the hotel lobby doors, tightly gripping my black marker. We had both agreed it could be dangerous leaving messages with our exact destinations but I told Connor I wouldn’t stop believing someone could be out there, looking for me. Our compromise was leaving the directions to a neutral location where we could set up some sort of two-way communication system that ran on batteries. I had an idea of the place we could use. There was a fire station within a few miles of the lodge. There had to be a radio there but not knowing what sort of communications were in place at the lodge, it made sense to stop somewhere along the way and pick up a set of long range walkie-talkies that we could charge in the cars.
Connor had pulled the truck around to the front of the hotel and the idle of the engine hummed loudly down the empty street. He had already taken the truck down the block to pick up the contents of the shopping cart we had abandoned the day before, so all that was left was for me to leave my last note downtown. I pressed a piece of the hotel letterhead up against the glass and began writing.
1/14
It’s time to leave the City. I’m going East with Connor and Zoey…up into the Mountains. I’ll leave a message for you at the Mt. Laguna Fire Station (From the 8, go North on Sunrise Hwy). You’ll know how to contact us once you get there. If you’re still looking, I hope you find me. – Riley
p.s. Be careful on the streets. The dead are watching.
***
The sky was bright blue as I navigated our way through the inner and outer streets of downtown, and a sense of relief began to wash over me. I had spent days driving around my part of town knocking on the doors of extended family and friends after my children died. I only went into the city to prove what I already knew was true; that my mother was dead as well. That made it official. I was truly alone. And then Connor found me and that changed things. I ha
d never planned to stay in the city, I didn’t want to see what happened there, but Connor was eager and willing to share his resources, and for just a little while, it made sense to stay where other people could find us. But it was obvious to us both, the streets weren’t safe.
I worried about what would happen if the wrong people followed us, but I was even more terrified of disappearing without a trace. If anyone I knew came looking for me, I wanted them to be able to find me. So when the skyscrapers and lofts and businesses began to fade behind us into the distance, I was left feeling relief. Relief that we were no longer surrounded by dead bodies or the horror of what happened to them. And relief that I was moving on, that my trail was warm again. I hoped that someone would someday catch up to us.
***
The Jeep was where I had left it and a quick glance inside proved everything was undisturbed and Connor let the truck idle as I transferred my things. The sun was high in the sky - heating the day quickly. As we organized our supplies, and properly packed our items from the previous day’s excursion to the mall, we were sweating under our long sleeves and jeans. I stripped down to my tank top before loading Zoey into the Jeep.
Across the street, a large blue Victorian house with ivory shutters stood like a wooden skeleton on the street. Its paint was faded and chipped, and the yellowing grass in the front yard along with the trash that had blown up onto the front steps gave the property a long abandoned look. I sighed, and glanced up and down the street before looking back at Connor.
“There’s a sporting goods store a few miles from here. How about we go there first, and find a set of walkie-talkies? We can charge them in the cars as we drive, and also use them to talk.” I leaned against the back of the Jeep, wiping sweat off my forehead. My hair was pulled up into a high pony tail but my neck still felt hot.
Connor had also taken off his warmer top and was wearing one of his expensive, tightly fitted white t-shirts that showed the definition of his lean pectoral muscles perfectly. I swallowed hard, and took in the sight of him. He looked rugged and sexy as he leaned onto the truck’s dented and scratched front end and crossed his arms loosely at his chest. He had used the truck to push through the blocked intersections, leaving a ragged pathway of broken glass and pieces of plastic behind us on our way to the Jeep.
“Sounds good to me,” he replied with a smile.
“You ready?” I asked him, trying not to stare at his chest…with no success.
“Not yet.” He shoved himself off the damaged bumper and in two quick steps he was in front of me, blocking out the sun, with his mouth on mine, his hands around my back, and his body pressed against me. He let go as quickly as he had grabbed me and walked back to the truck. My heart thudded wildly against my ribcage at the desire that flooded through me as I watched him hop inside. He winked at me mischievously and in response I sent a casual smirk his way and walked around to the side of the Jeep and climbed in.
While I drove, I listened to the MP3 player I had tucked into my backpack before leaving home by plugging it into the dashboard console. As we traveled the quiet residential streets, I rolled the windows down and let the fresh air envelope us as the music played. The first song we listened to was Kings of Leon’s Radioactive.
***
After spending almost an hour in the sporting goods store, we walked out with two sets of radios, batteries, cords, and a handful of other things. I led Connor through a maze of side streets, even driving up on curbs when the roads were too packed with parked cars. Out of habit, a few times I heeded traffic signs and each time I stopped or yielded for traffic that wasn’t there, Connor’s voice would boom through the hand-held radio set and tease me.
When we hit the eastern side of El Cajon, I pulled over and studied my road atlas, marking out the best roads to take into East County. From where we were on the streets, the freeway still appeared congested on both sides, so I decided to take us through Crest, which would eventually spit us out into Alpine. My hope was that anyone that far east of the city would have tried to flee to Arizona, not go west, back into the city and I was right. After we passed through Harbison Canyon, we traveled parallel with the freeway going east on Alpine Blvd, driving slowly through the empty mountain town. Zoey sat with her head resting outside the open passenger window, letting the breeze blow her floppy ears around her face.
We turned onto Willows Road and drove over I8 and entered the nearly empty westbound lanes from the exit. Once we were on the freeway the winds picked up speed, and the temperature dropped at least fifteen degrees. Twice we slowed down to a crawl to safely maneuver around crumpled and burnt vehicles that had collided together or struck the median. Every few miles, cars had piled into each other, causing a chain reaction of fender benders. They had gone into the median or over it in places, and smashed into other vehicles on the opposite side of the freeway. With every mile we put between us and the city we saw at least one vehicle pulled over to the shoulder, the dead driver slumped in their seat or across the steering wheel.
I forced a yawn until my ears popped as the elevation steadily rose on our way through the Cleveland National Forest and after we passed the 79 exit I radioed Connor to tell him we would be leaving the freeway soon. I had always been at ease in East County, having spent most of my childhood in the country-side. The shrubby Manzanita of the Cleveland National Forest and the pines that dotted Laguna felt like home. I hoped nature would welcome us more than the city had.
Connor trailed close behind me as we left the freeway and turned north onto Sunrise Highway. At first the road was clear, but after a few turns we slowed to barely a crawl to negotiate around various sized boulders that had fallen down from the hillsides and dried mud. Branches and tumbleweeds littered the asphalt which proved the weather had been unrelenting to the area, but the roads were still passable. I knew the route well and cautiously followed the curves of the road that led to the Mt. Laguna Fire Station. It was late in the afternoon, and the tall pine trees filtered out most of the sunlight which cast long, scraggy shadows across the road.
By dusk we pulled into the large space next to the station and parked. The lot was empty and the building looked dark and still inside. I climbed out of the Jeep and stood next to it while I stretched my back. Zoey ran excitedly through the lot, sniffing everything in sight as Connor climbed out of the heavy duty truck, flexing and stretching his arms.
“That was a long drive.” He took in the surroundings.
“Yeah, well normally it doesn’t take that long.” I smiled at him.
“It’s a good thing the truck already had a full tank of gas.” He gestured at the Jeep. “What about you?”
“I’m just under half a tank.” I looked around at the dark woods. I had pulled my sweatshirt on before stepping out into the cooler mountain air. I was worried we wouldn’t have shelter for the night if we didn’t hurry at the station.
“So, what are your plans, exactly?” Connor asked me as we stood before the closed station door.
“Let’s see what’s inside first.”
The trees tightened around us as the sun sank closer to the coast. It was hard to make out the shapes inside with night falling, but I could see couches, a table and shelving inside. I turned the knob and the door opened, releasing the trapped stale air from the room. We hollered out a hello or two before entering the building. Connor flipped a switch and an overhead light twinkled above us, which meant the sensor had been tripped when the power went out, turning the generator on. The room consisted of a lounging area, two sets of bunk beds and an open kitchen. A closed door led out into the empty garage, another opened up into a large bathroom. I began setting up one of the walkie-talkies on the kitchen counter while Connor investigated the station radios.
“All I can hear is static,” Connor said, as he flipped through channels.
“You know what’s interesting? All the trucks are gone, the garage is empty.” I said to him.
Connor wandered around the room, and after disappearin
g into the bathroom I heard a loud flush through the open door.
“Toilet works!” He shouted. A few seconds later I heard a loud squeak and then the sudden rush of water. “Shower works too!”
When he came back out into the main room I was facing one of the walls, looking at the framed photos of a massive fire and other shots of the firefighters in gear, posing in front of their trucks or dragging hoses behind them. Wherever their last call came from, it seemed they hadn’t returned and an overwhelming sense of guilt washed over me as I looked from one photo to the next. These people were supposed to be the strongest, the bravest of all, and yet someone like me - a former single mom and 3rd grade teacher, survived. It wasn’t fair. I turned away from the wall with an angry expression on my face and Connor stepped away from me.
“What’s wrong?” He asked.
“Nothing. It’s just upsetting that this place is empty. I was hoping someone would be here,” I answered. Wind whirled through the open door, whipping my hair around my face. I smoothed my pony-tail back and squared my shoulders.
“I don’t think anyone has been here for weeks.” He stepped closer and hugged me to him. “Why don’t we stay here tonight?”
“Here?” I asked as I looked into his face.
I Hope You Find Me Page 12
