She went back into the house and scrubbed the grease off her hands in the kitchen sink, then went next door to tell Mrs. Landry the car was running. The first round of knocking got her no answer, so she banged the door much louder, calling out her name as well. After several minutes of this, April grew impatient and walked around to the side of the house, where she tapped on the back bedroom window. There was still no response from inside and no sound of movement. April thought it odd since she hadn’t been able to get Mrs. Landry to answer the door the evening before either. She couldn’t be sleeping that long. Walking back to the front of the house, she noticed a partially opened curtain in a side window that opened to the small living room. It was too high above ground level for her to look inside, so April went back around to where the Mustang was and got the little stepladder David had out there. When she returned to the window and stepped up to look inside, April was shocked to see Mrs. Landry sprawled facedown on the rug in front of her couch. She banged on the window frame as hard as she could without breaking the glass and called out to her, but there was no response. Something was badly wrong, and April knew she had to get inside and find out what.
When she returned to the front door, April had the largest screwdriver she could find among David’s tools, as well as a hammer. She drove the blade into the door casing in line with the doorknob lock, hoping that the deadbolt above it was not also locked. The door gave way, swinging inside with less effort than she expected, and April rushed into the living room and knelt beside Mrs. Landry. She put a hand on her shoulder and shook her gently, but there was no response. April then pushed harder to attempt to roll her over, but was surprised at how stiff she felt. Then she reached to touch the side of her neck to check for a pulse and involuntarily pulled her hand back in shock. Mrs. Landry’s skin was cool to the touch. Her neighbor was dead!
Looking at the body, April could see no evidence of what caused her death. She wondered if she could have fallen and hit her head, but when she managed to roll her all the way over, there was no sign of a bruise or of blood anywhere. Could it have been a heart attack or a stroke or something? April figured that had to be it. The woman was at the age that anything like that could happen. Maybe the stress of the situation and thinking about having to leave her home had triggered it. It made her sad to think that she was just a day late getting the car running. If she could have gotten Mrs. Landry to her sister’s house, maybe this wouldn’t have happened. But there was nothing to be done about it now, and thinking of that, April was at a loss. She couldn’t call the sister and she couldn’t even call an ambulance or the police. She couldn’t move the body by herself and she didn’t know what she would do with it if she could. The only thing she could think of was that maybe she could find the address of the sister and stop by and let her know when she passed through Slidell. She searched through a stack of letters and bills on a bookshelf in the same room until she found it. Then she went to the bedroom and pulled a heavy blanket off the bed, bringing it into the living room to carefully cover Mrs. Landry’s body before she locked the door behind her and left.
Before going back inside her apartment, April looked up at the rays of sunlight filtering through the tops of the nearby oaks. It was getting late and she still had to go through her things and sort out what she needed to take with her. She would need her clothes, and most of Kimberly’s things as well as all of the food in the pantry and kitchen that was still good. As she thought about all this, April began to consider that perhaps it wasn’t such a good idea to try and leave so late in the day. Even if she were packed and ready, she would only make it about halfway to Hattiesburg before dark. If she had trouble with the Mustang, she wouldn’t be able to see to figure out what was going on without a flashlight, and she thought too there could be any number of obstacles in the road. She wanted to get to Kimberly as soon as possible, but having an accident or a breakdown in the dark wasn’t going to help her accomplish that. Reluctantly, April decided that it would be best to spend the last hour of daylight sorting through her stuff and putting it in the car. She would then get a good night’s sleep and leave at the crack of dawn.
Getting her stuff together turned out to be much easier than sleeping. April went to bed a couple hours after dark, but lay there tossing and turning and unable to forget the image of Mrs. Landry’s lifeless body sprawled on the floor next door. Finding her neighbor dead like that and realizing there was nothing she could do about it and no one to even tell, drove home the harsh truth of the situation that was unfolding. Unable to sleep, April now wished she had gone ahead and left in that last hour of light, but now in the pitch dark that enveloped the city, it wasn’t feasible at all, especially since once again, she heard distant gunfire ringing out from somewhere in the streets. She got up and paced the floor, trying to wear herself out so she would have to sleep, but that didn’t work either. She went outside sometime between midnight and dawn and sat on the front steps, drinking another can of warm Coke and eating the last of a box of cereal from the pantry while she listened for more shooting.
The smell of acrid smoke from burning buildings hung heavy in the humid night air and April wondered how long it would be before troublemakers found their way to her street. The only thing she was certain of was that she wasn’t going to be there to find out. She hadn’t seen Jennifer at her house across the street, and although she felt bad about it in a way, she didn’t really plan to look for her either. Mrs. Landry was different, because she was her next-door neighbor and elderly, and April and David had known her since they’d moved in, unlike Jennifer, who she’d barely spoken to before the blackout. Besides, since she hadn’t seen her, April thought maybe the woman had already left with someone else. Now that she could do nothing else for Mrs. Landry, April was determined to leave at first light. Everything she was taking was in the car, and since she couldn’t sleep there was little she could do inside the apartment with no lights. She kept her vigil outside until she saw the first hint of the new day, and then she locked the door to the apartment for the last time and slid behind the wheel of the Mustang.
April held her breath as the engine spun for several seconds. It almost seemed like it wasn’t going to start but then she heard it fire and come to life like it had yesterday, and she finally exhaled again as her heart pounded while she waited for it to warm up and smooth out. When it did, it seemed to be running perfectly, and April pressed the clutch and shifted into first, then pulled out of the driveway and into the street. Although it was still a bit hard to see, April left the headlights turned off to avoid attracting the attention of anyone far ahead. After hearing so much shooting, she knew she was vulnerable to carjacking and that a running car would make her a target if she crossed paths with the wrong people. She hoped that by leaving at this hour she would encounter less activity on the road, in the form of other vehicles, bicycles or pedestrians.
The Mustang was running smooth and seemed to have plenty of power as she shifted into second gear before coming to the stop sign at the end of her street. She turned right to take a shortcut she always used to get to the interstate, finding it necessary to weave back and forth across the lanes to avoid all the stalled cars and trucks blocking the road. She had just pulled onto the interstate from the on-ramp when she noticed movement between the abandoned vehicles scattered in the lanes ahead, causing her to instinctively let off the gas and slow down. As she drew nearer, she saw that a man had stepped into her path in the only open lane, and was waving both hands in a downward motion, the way highway workers flagged drivers to slow or stop. April couldn’t tell if the man was some kind of official or not, but he wasn’t wearing a policeman’s uniform and didn’t appear to be armed. Her mind was racing as the distance closed. Was he trying to warn her of some unseen danger ahead? Did he have the authority to stop or redirect her for some reason? Or was he just some random dude trying to flag her down because she had a running car and he wanted a ride? April didn’t know, but it also occurred to her that his inte
ntions could be worse too. If she stopped, the man might try to take her car by force. If he had a gun that she couldn’t see, he might shoot at her anyway, but she determined then and there that she was not going to stop. Kimberly was her only priority now and she knew she couldn’t afford to let anything, or anyone stand in the way of getting back to her. She maintained her steady, but slow speed and laid down on the horn, letting the stranger know in no uncertain terms that he’d best clear the way.
Despite her actions, the man didn’t move from the lane and April had to stop to avoid running over him. As soon as she did, he rushed around the car and attempted to open the driver’s side door. April had locked both doors when she got in that morning, a practice she was in the habit of doing anytime she drove anywhere with Kimberly. She was glad she’d remembered it today as the stranger pulled at the door handle and yelled at her to open it. He was saying something about an emergency and needing help, but April wasn’t falling for it. If he truly needed help he wouldn’t be trying to force his way into her car. She gunned the engine and let off the clutch again as the man climbed on top of the car and began beating on the roof. He was able to cling there for a few tense seconds until she was up to 40 miles an hour and found an opening in the lanes that allowed her to quickly swerve back and forth. She saw him tumbling in the roadway in her rearview mirror when he came off and then she slowed back to a safer speed to pick her way through all the vehicles. She was wired with adrenaline now and wary of every congested spot she came to, knowing that others could be lurking most anywhere to try the same thing. But she was determined that if it happened again, she was not slowing down. That first encounter was far too scary, and she would run over anyone else who tried it before risking that again.
Despite her willingness to use the Mustang as a weapon, April managed to leave New Orleans without having to. She passed a few other people traveling the interstate on foot and by bike, but none threatened her and by sunrise, she was across the bridge and approaching the Slidell exits. She honored her commitment to stop by Mrs. Landry’s sister’s house, even though it meant getting off the highway and driving several miles out of her way to find it. The silver Buick that she’s often seen next door when Julie was visiting wasn’t in the driveway though, and no one answered the door when April knocked. The woman could be anywhere, April knew, probably stranded somewhere because she was out and about in the car the morning of the blackout. There was nothing else she could do, so April drove back to the interstate and continued on her way.
Another encounter with a group of teenagers that tried to force her off the road encouraged her to consider an alternate route. Often, when she’d gone to Hattiesburg with David to visit his parents, he chose to use Highway 11, an older two-lane route, rather than the interstate. He liked it because the traffic moved slower, and he could stop anywhere he liked without waiting for an exit. Once she’d crossed the state line April decided to get on Highway 11 herself. There were places to turn off if she needed to and she figured the likelihood of running into the wrong kind of people would be less. She was to soon find out she was wrong, however, and also that there was far less gasoline in the tank of the old Mustang than she’d assumed when she left. The car had been running great all this way, but once she was several miles out in the middle of nowhere on Highway 11, she felt it sputter, lose power, and go dead. It started again and ran a few more seconds when she shifted down and popped the clutch, but then it was finished. April had no choice but to steer for the shoulder as the car coasted to a stop on the desolate highway.
Fifteen
MITCH COULD HAVE SLEPT through the day if not for the annoying deer flies that woke him with their bites as the afternoon heated up. He covered his head and face as much as possible with his extra clothing, but it was so hot that way he was unable to fall asleep again. Walking in the heat of the day wouldn’t be much better though, and it would expose him to more potential hassle or danger. He was pleased with the distance he’d covered that first night, and wanted to attempt to repeat it the second night, so he stayed put despite the pests. He could rest his body and feet even if he couldn’t get sufficient sleep to be fully refreshed. He knew things would be better after one more night of travel, and he was impatient for the coming darkness so he could get on with it. Once he reached Mississippi, he would have nothing left but rural countryside to traverse the rest of the way home. Then he could switch back to daytime walking, and hopefully a normal sleeping pattern.
He heard voices from the nearby marina he’d seen from the bridge, but could see nothing of the activity there from his hideaway in the little patch of woods. All through the day the occasional car or truck passed by on the highway above, and from there too he heard the voices of other people who were likely walking like him. His thoughts went back to Charles and Deborah Greenfield as he dug one of the MREs out of his pack and sat there eating it. Now that he was actually on the road, he realized how fortunate he was to have met Mr. Greenfield when he did. He would be suffering by now without the food and water. He had no doubt he could find water, but he had no way to purify it and it would be risky drinking surface water in such a populated area. Food would be even more problematic, because although the marsh and swamplands were teeming with life, it would slow him down greatly if he had to try and hunt or fish for sustenance while keeping a low profile. The military rations weren’t in the same league taste-wise as the two meals he’d had yesterday at the Greenfield’s house, but Mitch knew they packed a lot of calories that would enable him to keep a strong pace. As he ate he thought ahead to the work that awaited him on the farm. He knew that as soon as he got there, he needed to take stock and get organized. His mom always kept a good supply of extra food in the pantry, especially the staple items that would keep long-term. It was just what you did when you lived miles from even a country store, and over half an hour to the nearest Walmart or other supermarket. They would be set for a long time with things like flour, rice, cornmeal, sugar and dried beans. There were all sorts of canned goods in there too, including home-canned stuff like jellies, jams, and garden vegetables, as well as jars of honey his dad bought from a distant neighbor. Having all that on hand was a good thing, because Mitch knew that getting more would be unlikely for a long time.
Water for drinking, cooking and washing wouldn’t be a problem because they got all their water from a well anyway and there was a manual pump option for times when the power was out. The cattle had access to a pond and there was hay and winter feed for them in the barn. Besides that, there was always good grazing for the small herd somewhere on their 600 acres, even during the colder months that were relatively mild that far south in Mississippi. Mitch knew that butchering a steer was always an option, but he didn’t expect to have to resort to that anytime soon, at least not before his mom and dad made it home. The freezer was already full of venison, though he knew it might thaw out and spoil by the time he made it home. He would kill another deer right away and make jerky with all of it that he and Lisa couldn’t eat fresh. That would hold them over a long time, and there was always the option of small game or fish from the creek if they wanted something different. It wasn’t hunting season, but his dad was the game warden and Mitch figured he would give him a pass, considering the circumstances.
Thinking about all this, Mitch couldn’t help but look forward to the day and weeks ahead. In a way, it was the kind of life he often dreamed of, though that dream was set somewhere out west in a mountain wilderness and usually involved a beautiful female companion who saw things the way he did. Mitch often thought he was born a couple of centuries too late, an idea no doubt reinforced by all the stories he read of mountain men and free-ranging Indians in a time when living off the land was commonplace. He always believed he could do it if he had to, and now he was about to get the chance to prove it. The thought of not having to go back to the school was just as sweet.
His daydreams kept his mind occupied until at last the sun went down and the day faded into twil
ight. Mitch already had his gear sorted out and ready to go, the bow still unstrung and his quiver strapped to the pack with the arrows concealed by a shirt. Before climbing back up the embankment to the highway, he stood in the edge of the woods quietly listening to make sure all was clear in the immediate vicinity. The last thing he wanted was to be spotted and questioned by a cop or some other authority figure as he emerged out of his dark hideaway. But though he waited several minutes, no one seemed to be stirring, so he made his way onto the road and continued north.
The parts of Slidell he could see from the interstate were mostly business areas, with restaurants, motels and gas stations that were shut down and dark for the most part. He did hear the hum of a generator from an occasional building though, and here and there saw the scattered lights they powered. There were also fires in front of some businesses, and at one store Mitch could see several armed men backlit by the flames as they stood vigil over their merchandise. Although quiet a few vehicles had passed by his hideout during the day, moving cars and trucks were few and far between in the dark, and Mitch figured people were staying put at night for safety. He wondered how things were tonight in New Orleans and was glad he’d already put that part of his trek behind him. He had no doubt that the same route he’d taken the night before was much more dangerous now. Certainly many of the residents by now were coming to the conclusion that this was more than a temporary inconvenience. They would grow restless and impatient soon. Some would become desperate, and among those, many would soon become outright dangerous.
Darkness After Series (Prequel): Enter the Darkness Page 9
