by James Hunt
“I have a few alternate routes in case we run into trouble,” Rodney continued. “It’ll take us longer, but it’ll keep us safe.” He held up the rope once everyone was secure. “I cannot stress this enough: do not deviate from the group. You try and pull us one way when I’m going another, and we fall. And if we fall out there, we might not get back up.”
Holly sneezed and then coughed, and Kate instinctively reached up and pressed the back of her hand to her daughter’s forehead. The girl was burning up.
“Everyone ready?” Rodney asked.
Nervous nods responded in answer.
“All right then,” Rodney said, turning toward the stairwell door. “Let’s go.”
The door opened, and they passed through the lobby in a blur. A crowd was huddled inside to weather the storm, all of them people who didn’t live in their building but were seeking a place to hide. Kate didn’t see their faces as she passed, but she felt their stares as they left.
Outside, the air froze Kate’s lungs, and she’d forgotten how bitterly cold it was. The chill ran through everyone, even stiffening the rope.
A blanket of white cascaded from the sky, and Rodney was forced to slow his pace to a crawl as wind whipped from the left, forcing Kate to shield her eyes from the heavy flurries with her arm.
Visibility dropped to less than a few feet, but Kate recognized some of the street signs they passed. There were even people still in their cars, waiting out the weather. Kate locked eyes with a woman in a passenger seat, holding a little boy. A man, presumably her husband, sat in the driver’s seat. She only got a glimpse of the woman’s face as they passed before the snow blocked them from view, but she saw envy in the woman’s eyes. Envy of her movement, envy of the sight of action, envy because they looked like a group who knew where to go in the middle of a city that had no idea how to react.
Except for Rodney, most of the group kept their heads down on their march uptown. Rodney had warned them that it would take a few hours, but none of them, Kate included, had really understood just how far and how strenuous that trek would be in the cold. It took less than twenty minutes before they were forced to stop.
“I’m sorry!” Glen yelled above the howl of the wind as he leaned against the side of a building. Snot had frozen to his upper lip, and he kept coughing. “It’s my lungs. Used to be a smoker.” The parts of his cheeks that weren’t covered with frost were cherry red.
“It’s important not to overdo it,” Rodney said, shouting at the group over another whistling howl. “Once you stretch yourself beyond the point of fatigue, you’re doing more harm than good.” He glanced around and then turned back to the group. “But if we have to stop every twenty minutes like this, it’s going to take until nightfall to reach the docks, and we’ll freeze to death by then.”
Glen nodded, taking the hint, and pushed himself off the side of the building. “All right. I think I’m better now.”
And so they trudged on against the winter storm. Kate kept checking on Holly, though she couldn’t see her daughter’s face beneath the cover of the ski goggles and the scarf.
“You all right, sweetie?” Kate asked, no longer able to feel her nose anymore.
“Yeah,” Holly answered, her voice muffled through the scarf. She kept hold of her father’s hand, and she looked up at him. “Dad, if I get tired, will you carry me?”
“Of course, baby.”
A vicious crack thundered through the air, more metallic than the natural howl of the wind, and they stopped.
“What was that?” Mark asked.
Kate shook her head, her eyes never leaving the back of Rodney’s head. “I don’t know! It sounded like—”
Gunfire exploded to her left, and a harsh tug at Kate’s waist yanked her feet from beneath her. She smacked hard onto the concrete, the contact made worse by the harsh cold.
Shock rippled through Kate’s body, a sharp pain radiating from her left hip where she’d landed. She gasped breathlessly, her view from the ground nothing but white sheets of snow. Before she had time to think or check on Mark and Holly, another vicious tug from the rope pulled her backward, and Kate flailed her arms against the concrete to try and gain any traction.
The scream came from up front, and Kate saw nothing but the flailing arms and limbs of their poor conga line, her eyes glued to the back of Mark’s head.
Kate crawled toward her family, but a gust of wind blasted snow on her right side and knocked her off balance. Her heart pounded wildly, and she blinked away the snowflakes collecting in her lashes, which melted and stung her eyes. She wiped her cheeks and scrambled to her hands and knees. The tips of her boots and her gloved hands slipped wildly over the sidewalk as she reached for Mark and Holly, who squirmed on the ground.
Kate screamed and clutched Holly’s arm as Mark floundered on his back. A million scenarios raced through her mind. Mark was shot. Holly was shot. They were bleeding, they’d broken something, they were dying.
“Holly! Holly, are you all right?” Kate cupped her daughter’s face, still unable to hear her own words. She pulled down the scarf that covered her daughter’s mouth and saw that she was screaming something, but her lips were moving too fast. “What?”
A hand jerked Kate’s shoulder. She jumped and saw Mark propping himself up on his side. She looked ahead to their group that looked like nothing more than huddled clumps of white struggling to get up. But she saw one person remain on the ground.
A woman hovered over the body. She shook it violently, but the individual didn’t respond. More people gathered around them. One of them was Rodney. He was pointing somewhere, trying to pull the woman away from the person on the ground. The body on the ground, Kate thought.
Muted thuds echoed in the distance, and everyone shuddered. But Kate couldn’t take her eyes off the man on the ground and, more importantly, the woman who wouldn’t leave his side. Rodney was suddenly by Kate’s side, shaking her shoulders. She looked up at him, the howl of the wind creeping back into her ears along with his mute screaming.
“Kate, we have to go!” He pulled her up and cut her rope.
As they passed, Kate heard the woman’s hysterical screaming. Heads turned to look down at the scene, and Kate noticed the patches of crimson mixed with the snow.
It was Kit and Sarah. A red slush had formed around Kit’s head, which was slowly being covered by new snowfall. Sarah howled, her shrieks matching the high-pitched ferocity of the wind. Kate kept her head turned behind her as Rodney and Mark led her away from the scene, and she watched Sarah lay her head on her husband’s stomach until their figures disappeared amongst the sheets of white.
But long after they had separated themselves from the scene, and long after in the years of recovery, Kate would still hear that woman’s screams whenever there was a harsh wind. It was a warning, a bleeding memory that left a scar she’d always carry.
10
Rodney pressed forward, pulling what remained of his team of survivors through the storm. It had been several blocks since he’d heard gunfire, and while some of the group might have kept their eyes behind them, Rodney kept his eyes forward. He had to. If he didn’t, then they’d all die.
The shooters were everywhere. Rodney chalked up the man’s death to a freak accident, a stray bullet. It wasn’t his fault. And he’d warned them it would be dangerous. He hadn’t forced any of them to come. No, it wasn’t his fault. It wasn’t—
“Rodney, stop!” Kate grabbed hold of his shoulder and spun him around. The others were behind her, huffing and puffing breaths of icy air. “I’ve been calling you for the past block.”
Rodney noted the haggard looks on everyone’s faces. He could see them better now. The snowfall had stopped, but the residual frost on everyone’s face told the story of the powerful storm.
“We need a break,” Kate said, gesturing toward the group. “Just a few minutes to thaw.”
“The storm’s over,” Rodney said. “Now’s the time to gain some ground.”
> “And we’ll gain more ground if people can move without wanting to collapse every five seconds,” Kate said. “Don’t push past the point of fatigue, remember?”
Rodney looked back to the group. They swayed back and forth like trees ready to be felled. It would only take another chop of an axe to knock them down. Rest wasn’t a bad idea.
“All right,” Rodney said. “But only for a few minutes. I don’t want us to get caught in that bad weather again.” He glanced down the streets, noting the lack of people outside. “Of either variety.” He wasn’t sure if the rest of the group grasped what he meant, but Kate understood.
A Thai restaurant was the first door that opened, and inside they found three Asian women huddled in the back. Rodney lifted his hand in an attempt at a friendly wave, and after a moment’s hesitation, they reciprocated.
The shortest girl approached as they all took seats at the tables near the window. Even though the power was off, it was noticeably warmer than outside.
“Nothing’s working, but…” The girl twisted her hands together nervously. She couldn’t have been older than twenty. “We have water and drinks. Cold drinks, obviously.”
“Water would be great,” Rodney said. “Thank you.” They held eye contact for just a half second longer than normal, and then she smiled and spun around quickly. And for a moment he tried to catch his reflection in the mirror to see what he looked like.
“Rodney.” Kate nudged him again and then pulled him a few steps away from the rest of the group, who’d already collapsed in their chairs. She lowered her voice to a whisper. “How much farther to the docks?”
Rodney wiped his face, flicking off bits of snow and frost. “If we keep at the pace we were and the weather continues to agree with us, it shouldn’t take longer than forty minutes.”
Kate nodded, but her lips twitched.
“What?” Rodney asked.
“Now might be a good time to talk about the cabin and a plan for what happens after we cross the river,” Kate answered. “Especially after what happened with…” She trailed off, shutting her eyes. “Oh my god, I don’t even remember their names.”
“Kit,” Rodney said. “And Sarah.”
“Right.” Kate sighed and dropped her shoulders.
The young Asian woman returned with bottled water and handed them out to the group. She smiled at Rodney again as she passed, and this time Rodney watched her leave.
“Hey,” Kate said, smacking his chest. “You can get her number another time.”
“That’s not likely,” Rodney muttered under his breath.
“C’mon.” Kate pulled them back over to the group, and she rejoined her family.
Rodney noticed that Kate’s daughter was shivering. She sipped water and wheezed between gulps. Her father handed her a pill, and she swallowed it reluctantly. Her lips were blistered with fever.
“Listen up,” Rodney said.
Heads rose halfheartedly.
“We need to talk about our next steps,” Rodney said. “After we get to the dock—”
“We just left them,” Laura said, her lip quivering as she quickly covered her mouth to muffle the light gasp.
Glen reached over and patted her shoulder. “It’s all right, young lady.”
Laura shrugged off his hand and threw her arms down by her sides in defiance. “No, it’s not all right!” She stood, trembling as she stared Rodney down. “You said it was better to leave. You said it was safer.”
“I also told you there would be risks,” Rodney said, a harsher bite to his tone than he had intended, then turned to what remained of their group. “I didn’t force anyone to come with me. In fact, I had planned on going alone.” He snarled and clenched his fists. “I thought I was helping people. I thought I was doing the right thing. I thought… I thought…” His anger deflated, and he collapsed into the nearest chair. “If you want to blame me for what happened, then go ahead.”
“No one is blaming you,” Kate said, rising to his defense. “We all made the decision to leave.”
Laura lowered her head and sheepishly retreated to her chair. She pulled a napkin from the dispenser on her table. She wiped her nose and then crinkled the napkin into her fist. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”
“It’s fine,” Rodney said, an air of petulance in his voice that he tried to mask with a smile that looked more annoyed than friendly. “Really.” He thumbed his nose and then leaned forward at the table. “What I’m about to tell you I already told Kate at the apartments before we left.”
Eyes widened and heads nodded aimlessly as Rodney told them everything. The cabin, the supplies, and how long he thought it would take before the rest of the country managed to pull themselves up by the bootstraps.
“Help isn’t going to come,” Rodney said. “Once we cross the river, we head north. It’s going to be a little cramped, but I can promise you it’s going to be better than staying anywhere close to the city.”
“We should go,” Kate said, backing Rodney up again. “After everything we’ve seen and everything that’s happened, it’s a good idea.”
Glen nodded. “I agree. And who is to say that the effects of this…” He turned to Rodney to make sure he was saying it correctly. “EMP? Didn’t manage to travel that far north.” He smiled. “We might be on our way to the Garden of Eden.”
“Yeah,” Rodney said. “If the Garden of Eden got to three below at night.” He stood. “We have two days to get to the cabin before a bad northwestern storm dumps twelve feet of snow, because once it does it’ll make finding the cabin like looking for a needle in haystack.”
Everyone nodded, finished their waters, and chomped down on a quick snack of protein bars. As his group did that—he stopped to think about that for a moment. His group. It was even wilder than he could have imagined. He walked to the back of the restaurant, where he found the waitress who had served them.
“You guys are leaving?” she asked.
“Yeah. Thank you for the water though.” And for some reason, Rodney gently took the girl’s hands in his own. “If you can, you need to get out of the city. It’s only going to get worse.” He gestured to his group. “The bridges are gone, but you can come with us. I have a boat that can get across the river.”
She looked at Rodney confused, and pulled her hands back. “I-I can’t. My mother, she’s at home. I can’t leave her.”
Rodney nodded. “The power isn’t coming back on, if that’s what you guys were waiting for.” He backed away. “I don’t know if it’ll ever come back on.” He spoke the words more to himself as he distanced himself from her. “The tunnels might be open, but it’ll be risky to use them. Be careful.”
“Wait.” The waitress followed a few steps as Rodney reached the door. “Where are you going? Why don’t you think the power is coming back on? Who are you?”
Rodney stopped at the door, feeling the frigid blast of the weather outside. A tiny bell jingled. He looked back at the girl, and for the first time in his life since he had moved to the city, he found himself desperately wishing to remember a face in a sea of the faceless.
Six months from now, he wanted to find this little Thai shop and get a table and have her be his waitress. She’d laugh, he’d laugh, they’d get dinner and they’d date, and they’d be happy.
“Gather as much nonperishable food and water as you can,” Rodney said, and then he was out the door, gathering his group together for the last portion of their trek to the boats.
The sun was trying to peek out from behind the grey clouds above, and for a moment the whole city was peaceful, blanketed under a sheet of white as though it had been put to bed and tucked in for the night.
But it wouldn’t be peaceful for much longer. Violence would come like the storm lingering in the northwest with an unforgiving force that would do everything in its power to crush them into dust.
Rodney thought of the girl and her smile, and suddenly that only made the foreboding worse.
Kate kept her he
ad on a swivel for the rest of the journey. Every once in a while, a high-pitched whine filled her ears, and she’d wince in pain. Residual noise from the gunshots that she hoped wasn’t permanent.
Walking around the city that had just been blanketed with snow made it less intimidating. All of the cracks and dirt and trash that normally littered the ground were covered with a cleansing whiteness. But every once in a while, there would be a scream or a shatter of glass or a gunshot, and that façade of safety would crumble.
It was all some type of joke, a sick, cruel joke with a punch line that only the terrorists who did this understood. The type of joke whispered at secret meetings. It was the type of joke that was told by no one with a sense of humor and left people joyless.
“Unbelievable,” Kate muttered to herself. She stared down at her boots as she shuffled through the slush. Every step disrupted the fresh white powder and churned up the black dirt underneath. Their group left lines of grey and black in the snow, like snails on a sidewalk leaving behind their slime.
Slime like the parasites responsible for all of this. Kate imagined pouring salt on them, watching them wither into nothing. How many had already died because of them? How many more would die because of them?
Luke suddenly flooded her thoughts, and Kate tightened her grip on the backpack straps. Her son was down in Virginia at school, alone, and if this problem in New York had really become a nationwide epidemic, then she just couldn’t leave him down there alone. She had to make sure he was safe. But Rodney’s plan pulled her in the opposite direction.
Kate racked her brain for a solution, but aside from walking down there herself, she had nothing. And it would take a week to travel that far on foot in this weather. If she could just find a car, any car that would work, she could—
A memory prickled in the back of her head. Last spring, before she had requested to be relocated to New York, she had been running a flight from Miami to Newark. It was a one-off, but the trip consisted of a two-day stay in New Jersey before she could fly home to Atlanta. The hotel concierge noticed Kate’s wings when she checked in and told her about an airshow happening in a small town to the west of the city.
