by Jeff Olah
Ethan knelt alongside the twin duffels and pulled free two nine millimeter handguns. “Why are you helping us?”
“Listen,” Horatio said, “there isn’t time, you have to—”
Ethan readied his weapon and placed it against the smaller man’s head. “Okay, give me the condensed version.”
“These people are savages. They’ve killed more people than I care to remember. I came through here five days ago on my way out of town and Josie saved me from a big group of those things. She said I owed her, that I could come work for her here. I didn’t know what this was. I didn’t know what these people were.”
“What are they?”
“They’re just murderers—nothing else. They only survive because they kill—everyone and everything.”
“You didn’t try to leave?”
“I was waiting for the right time. She has Maddox babysitting me like twenty-four seven, but I can’t see any more of this. You and your people have to go.”
Ethan began putting the pieces together. “Horatio, where did Maddox go?”
“A gated community about a mile from here. He and a few others are finishing what they started earlier tonight, before we were called to go get you.”
“Silverwood?”
“What?”
Ethan couldn’t get the words out quickly enough. “The name of the community, was it Silverwood?”
“Yeah, maybe. I don’t know. Big ten-foot iron gates, the entrance lined with blue and white lights?”
Turning to Griffin, Ethan stood and slipped both weapons into his waistband. “It’s my father, that’s where he is, and that’s where I’m going.”
“The women and your mother?”
“I need the four of you to go get them.”
“What?”
“I’ll be back within the hour. If not, head north to Highway Seventy. I will find you.”
Stepping to Ethan, Horatio extended his hand. “Good luck.”
“No need, I’m counting on you to help my friends, and when we leave, you’re coming with us.”
Horatio nodded. “Okay, you know where you’re going?”
“Out through the back. You just help my friends get the women out safely… all of the women.”
As Ethan turned to walk away, Ben reached into the bag and grabbed a weapon of his own. “I’m coming with you.”
There wasn’t time to explain to the kid why he wanted to go alone, why he felt he needed to do this without any help. The path away from the university and into his parents’ neighborhood would take less than ten minutes to cover on foot and probably only half that for Ben. The question now—would having him along be more of an advantage or a possible liability?
As the men waited for Ethan’s response, Griffin interjected. “The three of us can handle it. Take the kid; he’s the only one here who’d be able to keep up, and you might just need some help.”
“Alright then,” Ethan said. “Stay close and no going off on your own. I’m serious. I can’t be responsible if you get yourself into trouble.”
The kid smiled and turned to the others. “Tell the girls I’ll make sure Ethan gets back.”
The men shook hands and parted ways. Ethan and Ben drifted into the darkened hall and disappeared as Griffin, Frank, and their new friend stood at the front doors and looked out over the lifeless college campus.
“Well,” Griffin said. “If you’re the prayin’ type, now might just be a good time.”
41
The room-temperature water felt good on her skin. She showered quickly, washing away the obscenity of the past several days and then dried herself even faster. She was back in her clothes and out of the locker room before Veronica had finished two chapters of the current novel she was rapidly devouring. “Wow, you are fast.”
“I just want to get back up there.”
Out of the locker room, the first-floor lobby appeared to have taken a majority of the initial destruction. Multiple overturned desk chairs, destroyed marble countertops, and a smashed eighteenth-century sculpture sat at the foot of the stairwell—a makeshift barricade that probably kept out no one.
Crossing the floor, Veronica guided the woman toward the stairwell. At the door, she paused. “I am so sorry. I can’t even begin to imagine what you’re going through, and on top of everything, the entire world has gone to hell.”
The woman reached for Veronica’s hand. “Actually, I may be the luckiest person in this building. Not being able to remember for now is a good thing. I don’t know my name, where I’m from, or anything else about my life. I’m sure when it finally comes back, I’m going to also remember what happened to me the first few days and I’m not sure that I want to.”
“We just met, but as the only other female, I want you to know that I’m here for you. Whatever it is you find in that phone.”
Veronica powered up a small flashlight and they made short work of the two flights of stairs. Into the lobby of the third floor, Tom and Cedric had moved the three leather-backed chairs away from the wall and brought the table out from suite three-twenty-six. Moments later, Patrick appeared from the hall with two folding chairs and two candles.
Situating the large round table near the window facing north, Cedric turned to the women. “This is the one spot on this floor where we can sit and not have to stare into that mess down there. It’s just us and that amazing night sky. I can’t remember ever seeing stars that bright.”
“Yeah,” Tom said, “no planes and no pollution—the one upside of this whole damn mess.”
Reaching into his pocket, Tom turned to his friend and handed her the phone. “You’ve got forty percent, it’s good to go… but.”
“But what?”
“You need a passcode.”
She hit the power button and hung her head. “Now what?”
Tom turned back toward the table. “Let’s see if we can’t figure it out.” He held out his hand and she gave him back the phone. He sat at the table and held the screen so that the candlelight reflected the trace fingerprints left behind. He twisted the phone to the left and then to the right. Leaning in close, he used his sleeve to lightly brush away the dust glossing over the screen and quickly looked back. “Looks like this may not be so difficult after all. There are four numbers that have pretty noticeable fingerprint smudges over them. We just have to figure out the sequence.”
“You’ve done this before?”
“I used to do this with a few of my buddies. We’d agree not to wipe down our phones for a whole day and then see if we could guess each other’s passcode. Worked about half the time.”
She looked confused. “How would I know what order the numbers go in?”
“I’m not sure, but we only have ten tries before it locks us out.”
Returning from the hall a second time, now carrying a large bowl of room-temperature canned chili, Patrick moved to the table. “There are twenty-four combinations. Your chances are actually pretty good.”
“I’ll give you the four numbers, you say the first thing that comes to mind.”
The woman shook her head. “That’s not going to work. I can’t even remember my name, so how am I supposed to—”
Handing her back the phone, Tom waited for her to power it back up. “Close your eyes and just listen. Zero… one… four… six.”
The woman frowned. She opened her eyes and took a seat at the table. “I don’t know, I just can’t—”
She paused, looked around the table, and placed her free hand over her mouth. “I can see them. They we’re there all along.”
“The numbers?”
“Yes.” She turned back to the phone and keyed in her passcode. The screen brightened and she smiled. “My family, my friends, and my life. They were here with me the whole time.”
Tom stood and moved to her. “Is it coming back?”
Nodding, the woman began to cry. She stood, put her arms around him, and through the tears, kissed his cheek. “Thank you, all of you.”
> Wiping her face, she quickly returned to her seat as the others fell in around her at the table. Scrolling through her most recently viewed apps, she stopped on the camera. Just shy of six-hundred photos were organized into more albums then she could count. She pulled up the first, labeled family vacation, and froze on the first picture.
She slid down and rested her elbows on the table as it all came rushing back. Her mother, her father, her first kiss, her senior prom, and the way her date shook as he placed the corsage along her neckline, the college prank she had yet to tell anyone other than her brother about, and finally the job that brought her here and how much she regretted having taken it.
Lifting her head away from the screen, her smile began to fade. “I remember… everything.”
42
The severely outdated Carpenter Hall smelled of mildew and bleach, the two competing for dominance. As the man in black locked the doors and started away from the building, the other twenty-four women began their trek back to their respective rooms. No one spoke and only their lonely footsteps could be heard as they disappeared one by one along the first-floor hallway.
Taking Ethan’s mother by the hand, Carly moved with her to the far side of the reception desk as Shannon and Cora retrieved four stackable chairs. Sliding them into a half circle, the women gathered in front of the floor-to-ceiling windows facing back toward the gymnasium.
Carly spoke first. She slid in close beside Ethan’s mother and attempted to appear confident, although she wasn’t sure whether she was doing it more for herself or for Helen. “I know Ethan. He’s the reason why the three of us are still here. He’ll bring back Thomas. We just have to stay strong for them.”
Looking away, Helen had too many questions. Her husband, her daughter, and her son. She only wanted them here with her. She prayed that she’d wake up, that this would all be a bad dream. That they would be there in the living room, talking and laughing as they’d done so many times before. But every time she closed her eyes and looked at the memories of days gone by, she could feel them slipping further away.
Watching the older woman fight to keep her composure, Carly slid in close. “Helen, I’m sorry, I can’t imagine what—”
Slowly looking from Shannon to Cora and finally pausing at Carly, Helen’s expression changed yet again. She put both hands up over her mouth as the tears came rushing back. “Oh my God, Carly.”
She knew what Helen had just remembered. There was only one thing that it could be. Everything else that was relevant had already been discussed. And although it was something Carly wanted to forget, she also knew it may be the only thing that would help Ethan’s mother redirect her anguish. Even though it had been nearly a week, verbalizing the events of that day were still almost impossible.
Carly blinked as a tear of her own rolled down her face. “He’s gone, Helen. David was taken from us the very first day. He saved Ethan and he also saved me.”
Beginning to shake, Helen lurched forward and began to sob. Her cries echoed through the first floor and brought those overcome with curiosity out of their individual rooms. She fought to control herself; however, the boy she’d known for the last thirty years, the same man she’d called her second son, was now gone.
Carly moved from her chair and knelt beside the grieving woman. Also beginning to lose herself to the sorrow, Carly pulled Helen in close and offered her shoulder. They cried together as several of the other women moved out of their rooms and into the reception area.
. . .
Standing and moving to the door, Cora looked out across the greenbelt. The world beyond their locked door appeared peaceful, serene. She let her hand slide down over her left hip and pushed her thumb into the tender skin around the injury from seven days before. Still painful, although nothing like it had been, she pulled her shirt down and tucked it into her jeans.
Placing her lips only an inch from the glass that now reflected her own image, Cora breathed out slowly, allowing the upper half of the twelve-inch pane to gloss over in a translucent haze. Pulling back, she ran her finger through the fading condensation and traced her name through what remained.
Staring back as the image relented, Cora also quietly voiced her thoughts only to herself. Cora, you will get through this. Be strong. Be the person they need. It’s not over, not tonight.
Turning away from the door, Shannon approached. She was moving with a purpose and motioning back toward the doors. She whispered, “Cora, look.”
The two women stood at the door and looked back to the walkway that led from the parking lot to the gym. Three silhouetted figures stepped quickly from the concrete path out onto the damp grass. Beginning to run, they moved out into the long strands of silvery moonlight that reached over the tops of the west facing buildings.
Shannon turned to Cora. “It’s her.”
“Why are they coming back?”
Josie, now less than twenty seconds from the entrance to Carpenter Hall, was flanked by the two men in black. They carried their weapons out in front, although they seemed to be focused somewhere beyond the two-story brick building. Shannon followed the path of their eyes. However, her attention was quickly drawn back to the woman they ran beside as the trio started up the front steps.
“Cora, go get Carly and Ethan’s mother. Tell them Josie’s coming. Tell them to be ready to go.”
Stepping back, Shannon stood five feet from the door, although directly in the path of traffic, should anyone come through.
And they did. The first man to reach the entrance slung his rifle over his shoulder, unlocked the door, pulled it open, and stepped aside.
Josie came through first, the black and stainless steel Smith and Wesson nine millimeter hung from her right hand. Although she had covered nearly two hundred yards in less than sixty seconds, she didn’t appear fatigued. She wasn’t breathing hard and the only emotion present appeared to be anger.
Helen’s tormented outburst had brought all but three of the women from their rooms. Most now stood in the reception area staring inquisitively back at the woman who’d brought most of them here.
Scanning their faces, Josie first paused on Shannon. “Are you sure that is where you want to be standing? I’m not here for you, but I can certainly make an exception.”
Shannon didn’t blink, and although she conceded at least five inches and more than forty pounds to the woman with the close-cropped hair, she also didn’t move.
“We don’t want any trouble; we just want to—”
“Shut up… just shut up. You and your friends have already turned out to be more trouble than you’re worth.” Leaning in close, Josie lowered her voice. “Now please step aside or I will put a bullet into your head.”
Shannon took a step back. The look on her face was just enough of a response that Josie felt the need to clarify.
Again addressing the entire room, Josie said, “As a rule, we do not harm any of the people that we are trying to help, but we also won’t allow any dissention. There is a certain level of decorum that is expected from every single person who enters this place. Because without the ability to appreciate and respect what it is we’re doing here, what will we become?”
More confused than scared, Shannon stepped aside. She continued to watch the woman at the center of the room as the man at the door stepped outside and looked past the Admissions building to the tree line at the edge of the property.
“Miss Josie, we’re still blind.”
Only slightly turning, she nodded and then returned her focus to the women. Her eyes moved from one to the next, never staying with any one face for more than a few seconds. She smiled when she reached the woman with hair so white it almost looked clear. “Joanne, good to see you.”
Joanne looked away.
Continuing, Josie came to Carly. “Step aside, sweetheart. I would like to speak to Mrs. Runner.”
Carly didn’t move.
“Suit yourself, but before we dig into this any further, I want you to know that I’m g
iving you the chance to stay out of this.” Josie paused and simply stared back into Carly’s eyes. “You still like where it is that you’re standing?”
Carly looked away, but still held tight to Helen’s hand.
“Okay then, here it is.” She spoke directly to Helen. “Your son has taken it upon himself to go off campus. Now I have to utilize my resources to go get him and bring him back. Resources I don’t have, resources that should be here, behind these gates protecting all of you. So essentially, he’s endangering not only himself, not just me and my men, but also each and every one of you, and that’s just not right.”
Stepping away from Carly, Helen spoke for the first time. “I’m not sure what you want me to do, I only just came here—”
“Oh, you have the wrong impression of why it is that I came down here. It wasn’t to ask you for help or to beg you to tell me where he went, that we already know. I only came here to ask whether or not you had the chance to say goodbye to your little boy.”
43
He’d estimated it to be a bit more than a mile, although with a good deal of the terrain wet and at an incline, it felt much further. Rounding the last turn while still attempting to stay under the far reaching shadows, Ethan slowed under a tall spruce, placed his hands on his thighs, and looked up at Ben.
“Kid, are you even human?”
“You have to be kidding, that was what a quarter mile, maybe a half?”
Ethan shook his head and took in a few deep breaths, going over in his mind the likely scenarios should they run across Maddox and his men. He only saw one possible resolution, and although he would do anything to bring his father back, he had yet to draw his weapon on another human. He didn’t like what he was picturing he’d have to do.
“Stay on my right hip,” Ethan said. “If I move, you move. And not one second before.”
His upper arm parallel to the ground and the tip of his forefinger touching the outside edge of his right eyebrow, Ben looked Ethan in the eyes. Then tilting his palm slightly inward, Ben saluted his friend. “Yes sir.”
