Night of the Purple Moon

by Scott Cramer

  When the cruiser entered the harbor area, Barry spotted them first. “Look, balloons!” he shouted. The four colorful bunches of balloons tied to parking meters tugged against their strings in the stiffening breeze.

  Abby tried to sound surprised. “Balloons? Why would anyone put balloons near the bowling alley?”

  A crowd had gathered in front of Castine Lanes— the entire population of the island with the exception of Toby, Chad, and Glen. When the kids scrambled out of the cruiser, shouts of “Happy birthday!” greeted them.

  The crowd parted like a curtain to reveal Kevin standing beside a Dairy Queen ice cream machine plugged into a humming generator.

  A lot of preparation had gone into this, the biggest surprise of the day. Emily and Tim had secretly spirited fresh milk from the barn. Abby and Emily had found a recipe for ice cream at the library and mixed the right amounts of sugar, salt, and milk. Kevin had figured out how to power and operate the soft-serve machine.

  He dramatically held up an empty sugar cone to KK and said, “Would you like vanilla?”

  She batted her eyes, playing along. “What else do you have?”

  “We also have vanilla,” he said.

  KK pretended to ponder the choice. “Let’s see… vanilla or vanilla? I’d love vanilla, please.”

  Kevin placed the cone beneath the nozzle and lifted the handle. A whirring sound accompanied a thick squiggle of lavender-colored ice cream magically filling the cone. Kevin expertly swirled the ice cream to a point and presented the cone to KK.

  She took a lick and flashed a big grin. “Delicious!”

  Kevin made cones for everyone. The birthday kids got seconds.

  Everyone moved inside. Forty-two candles, all that Colby permitted, illuminated the hot, stuffy, musty-smelling bowling alley. Lit candles were also stuck in the frosting of the four birthday cakes perched on the counter where Abby had once rented bowling shoes.

  Abby snapped photos, not wanting to miss a single smile. Even Derek was having fun. Later, she would plug Kevin’s computer and printer into the generator and print the pictures to post on a wall back at the mansion.

  “Hurry up, blow out the candles,” Colby insisted. He hated wasting precious resources.

  “Make a wish!” Emily shouted.

  Toucan stood before her three-candle cake with bright eyes. “Toucan wish—”

  Abby put a finger to her lips. “Shhh. Touk, don’t say it out loud.”

  Toucan filled her lungs and blew out the flames on her first try. Cheers and clapping followed.

  After three more secret wishes, everyone ate cake and then the birthday kids unwrapped their presents. KK received perfume and nail polish. Eddie got a baseball glove. Barry tried on his policeman’s hat. Even though it covered his eyes, Abby had never seen him so happy.

  Toucan opened her present last. Jordan had carved a toy bird from driftwood and Abby had painted it bright colors.

  “Peacock!” she squealed.

  “No, Touk,” Jordan said. “It’s a toucan.”

  “Peacock!” their sister insisted.

  He shrugged and said with a smile, “Have fun with peacock.”

  “Let’s bowl!” Colby shouted.

  Toucan positioned herself in the middle of the lane, halfway to the pins, and pushed the ball. It seemed to take forever before one pin toppled over. She jumped up and down as if she had bowled a strike.

  Thunder rumbled from the next lane with Jordan and Eddie heaving the balls as hard as they could. Ben and Gabby set up the pins up and rolled the balls back.

  KK gave Abby a big hug. “Thank you for everything!” she said.

  Abby’s heart stopped. KK was burning up with fever. “Happy birthday,” she said as she drew away, trying to contain the panic in her voice.

  Abby relaxed when she watched KK eat a second helping of cake, thinking that if she were sick from space germs, she wouldn’t have an appetite. She also considered KK’s age. Three girls, herself included, were older than KK. They would all reach puberty before KK.

  After the party ended and Abby was driving the birthday kids home, she repeatedly sneaked peeks in the rearview mirror. KK appeared flushed but otherwise healthy.

  Because the two wild ones, Toucan and Danny, were asleep, Abby was able to keep the radio volume low and still hear it. The CDC robot continued to drone on about the importance of good hygiene.

  Jagged lightning ripped the sky above them, and the sharp crack of thunder thumped the cruiser.

  “I want chocolate ice cream next time,” Barry said, proudly wearing his new policeman’s hat.

  “You’ll have to get Henrietta and Matilda to make chocolate milk,” Eddie said.

  “Can we do that?” Barry asked, wide eyed.

  Eddie grinned. “Sure, just feed them candy bars.”

  “Cows eat candy bars?” Barry cried.

  At that moment the CDC issued a new bulletin, the one every survivor on Castine Island had been waiting for: the results of the human trials.

  Abby stopped at the side of the road and turned up the volume. Others pulled to the side of the road behind her. She wished Kevin were here beside her, but he was riding with Emily and Jordan in the Volkswagen.

  The robot announced where the trials had been conducted (France, Germany, Russia, the United Kingdom, and the United States) and how many test subjects participated (twenty-one adults and seven teens).

  Abby wanted to scream, “Just tell us if it worked!” She bit her tongue, instead.

  “Results indicate that all but the 20-milligram dosages were successful in destroying the pathogen,” the robot finally said. “Furthermore, protection was provided by a single dosage.”

  A car horn beeped several times. Abby recognized the VW horn. Kevin had beeped, which meant the news was very good.

  “Turn on the siren,” Barry pleaded.

  Abby held up her hand to shush him. “Wait, there’s more.”

  “Production and distribution plans are now being developed,” the robot continued. “We estimate the antibiotic will be available in ten to fifteen months.”

  KK’s piercing screech sent chills down Abby’s back and started Danny howling and Toucan crying.

  As Eddie hugged KK, trying to comfort her, the robot babbled on about the test subjects, but Abby was no longer listening. It would take the scientists a year or longer to distribute the antibiotic.

  A year from now Abby would be fourteen and a half. Colby would be fifteen, going on sixteen. Of the older kids on the island, who would even live to celebrate their next birthday?

  From the frightened sobs behind her, Abby sadly knew at least one person who wouldn’t.

  * * *

  KK remained in bed, her fever spiking to reach one hundred and four degrees. She moaned and cried out in discomfort as waves of cramps rippled throughout her body. Chills followed sweats followed chills and within days she became too exhausted to lift her head off the pillow.

  Eddie and Cat were her constant companions. Cat curled up at the foot of the bed, licking and cleaning her fur. Eddie gently held KK’s hand and refreshed the wet cold cloth on her forehead.

  Nobody believed that space germs were the cause of KK’s illness. It was the flu, many said, a bad cold; anyway, KK was too young, exactly thirteen years old. KK was a year or more away from puberty, they concluded.

  Then Abby made a shocking discovery. She found tampons hidden in KK’s drawer. KK tearfully admitted her period had started three months earlier. “I was too afraid to tell anyone,” she said. “Not even Eddie knew.”

  Frightened kids started reporting their own fatigue and stomach aches and fevers and kept the thermometers in constant rotation. But their symptoms were imaginary, manufactured in their heads.

  Zoe’s symptoms were real. Pale and stricken, she stopped eating entirely.

  The house felt flooded with dread and gloom and everyone was on edge. One night the chilling scream of a boy awakened Abby. She ran down the hall to find Bar
ry sitting up in bed with tears streaming down his face. She felt his forehead. It was piping hot.

  Had Barry entered puberty? No, that was impossible, she told herself. He was only ten years old. Abby then wondered if the space germs had mutated. The germs were now attacking hormones other than testosterone and estrogen. That meant that everyone, from the youngest to the oldest, was at risk.

  Fortunately, Barry told her that he had a toothache. It was great news. The infected tooth was the cause of his fever, not space germs. In the morning, Abby rubbed whiskey on Barry’s gums to numb them and then Jordan and Derek held the trembling ten-year-old as Colby zeroed in with a pair of pliers and yanked the culprit.

  KK, during the third week of her illness, developed a painful rash between her shoulder blades. Her skin, dimpled like a golf ball, was raw and red and oozed pus. KK had to lie on her side and winced if anything brushed against the rash.

  She started hallucinating two days later. “Let’s go on a picnic,” she said out of the blue. More hallucinations followed: “I need to finish my homework”… “Can someone call my mom and tell her I’ll be at the playground”.

  Two days later, Abby was washing dishes when Eddie raced breathlessly into the kitchen. “KK’s better,” he cried. “She wants to go outside to get some fresh air. She’s not hallucinating, Abby. I swear it. She sat up in bed. Her eyes are clear. She beat the space germs. I told her to rest, stay in bed. Come, see for yourself!”

  When she and Eddie entered KK’s room, they both froze. KK was ashen and still. Cat let out a mournful cry. Eddie crumpled to his knees and sobbed. Abby did not think it was possible for her heart to break further, but Eddie proved her wrong when he pulled back the covers and climbed beside the girl he loved.

  The kids held a tearful funeral service for KK the next day. When that was over, they drove her body to the harbor, where Eddie and Jordan tenderly placed it in the skiff.

  They had to take KK in the sailboat. They couldn’t afford to use the last of their precious fuel. Sea Ray had a full tank of diesel fuel, and they were saving it for a trip to the mainland—if and when the antibiotic became available.

  The boys sailed by the mansion close to shore in a final tribute. The flag flew at half-mast, and the children tossed wild flowers into the water, daisies and dandelions, which formed a thick rope of petals on the wet pebbles as the tide receded.

  Abby perched atop a craggy boulder at the water’s edge, exhausted and more frightened than ever from the turmoil of the past month. The steady onshore breeze dried her fresh tears as she watched the white sail shrink smaller, ever smaller.

  “Rest in peace, Katy Kowalsky,” Abby whispered into the wind.

  MONTH 5 – TROUBLE ON THE FARM

  Emily concentrated on the road. This morning she was driving the truck to the farm faster than usual because of her dream last night. In it, she had forgotten to tie up Henrietta and the lumbering cow crushed every egg but one. She’d awoken in a cold sweat.

  “My great-grandfather was born here,” Tim, her partner and milking maestro, said gazing out the window from the passenger seat. “You know what type of fish he caught off the rocks? Halibut. Incredible, huh? He got married at sixteen. Hey, Emily? Are you listening to me?”

  Tim, the once shy boy, never stopped talking.

  “Your grandfather fished?” she said.

  “My great-grandfather,” Tim corrected and continued to recount his family’s long history on Castine Island.

  A fan of orange and yellow light was unfolding in the east. Soon the sun would bubble above the horizon. Ghostly sea smoke hovered over the water. Jordan had told her the layer of wispy fog formed when the air and water temperatures were the same.

  Emily shivered and cranked up the heater. It was the middle of September, but winter would arrive before they knew it. She wondered how they’d keep the chickens and cows warm in January. At least chickens had feathers.

  Emily had no such worries about herself and the other survivors. They had a good supply of firewood, as well as plenty of canned food and fresh water stored. The problem they faced was the delay in receiving the antibiotic. How many of them would still be alive a year from now?

  “Look,” Tim said, pointing. “They did it again!” The barn door was wide open.

  Emily remembered closing the door yesterday. “Toby?” she said.

  “Who else,” Tim muttered. “Wait until Colby hears.”

  Emily wasn’t sure that telling Colby was the best thing to do. She knew what he’d do to the boys. “First let’s see what they did,” she said. “It’s not a big deal if they took a few eggs.”

  “I’ll go to the barn,” Tim said.

  Emily said she’d check the field. On their last jaunt to freedom, the chickens had fled the barn and scurried into the tall grass, pecking away at a limitless bounty of crickets and grasshoppers. It had taken her and Tim hours to shoo them back to their coop inside the barn.

  They parked, and Tim jumped out and raced toward the barn.

  Emily approached the field. “Clarisse,” she called. “Lucy, Amelia, Meezy.” Emily had named them all. “Come on, ladies. Magpie! Cluck if you’re out here.”

  The first breeze of dawn sent a shiver across the grass tips. Otherwise the field was still and peaceful. Emily thought that she and Tim might have lucked out. She pictured the chickens huddled close for warmth, sleeping soundly in their coop.

  A blood-curdling scream sent adrenaline coursing through her veins.

  Emily flew into the barn. It was dark and shadowy inside, and she detected a mysterious odor mixed with the typical smells of chicken feed and chicken droppings and the warm mustiness of the cows. Emily could almost taste the raw, rank odor.

  She made out Tim, squatting and hugging his knees near the cow’s water trough. As she was about to ask him why he had screamed, she gasped at the sight of feathers by her feet. The thick layer rolled out like a rug. Emily quickly realized that coyotes had killed all the chickens.

  She felt her legs go numb and struggled to stay on her feet. She approached Tim and noticed the hulking shape on the barn floor next to him. Her heart shattered. It was a cow and something was terribly wrong. Emily still couldn’t tell whether it was Henrietta or Matilda because of the shadows. Up close her feet sunk into something wet and spongy. It was blood.

  Coyotes had killed Henrietta.

  “Where’s Matilda?” Emily cried.

  Breathing hard and fast, Tim rocked back and forth on his heels, still hugging his knees. “Why did they do this?” he said. “Why?”

  “Matilda,” Emily called and scanned the interior of the barn. When she didn’t see the cow, she hoped for the best. She told herself that Matilda had survived the coyote attack. She survived because of her stubbornness…she showed them who was boss.

  Emily didn’t want to leave Tim, but he wouldn’t budge. “I’ll be right back,” she said and ran outside the barn.

  Matilda was behind the barn, cast in a veil of red light by the rising sun. She looked unharmed, and Emily choked out a sob of relief.

  She ran over and threw her arm around Matilda’s neck. She shrieked when her hand skated over the gash hidden from her view. The wound was wide and deep, and Emily knew she could nothing to save Matilda.

  With tears streaming down her cheeks, Emily gently stroked Matilda’s nose until the cow collapsed.

  * * *

  Abby heard the squeal of tires. She hopped out of bed and looked out the window. In the driveway Emily and Tim had skidded to a halt in the truck. She thought it was strange for them to return so soon. They normally stayed at the farm until noon.

  She watched in disbelief as they stumbled out of the truck and staggered toward the front door, arm in arm, covered in blood.

  Abby raced downstairs, knocking her chair over backwards in her haste, and met them at the door. They blurted out what had happened. She was shocked by the news, but grateful that neither of them was hurt.

  She guided them int
o the kitchen and closed the door, so as not to frighten the younger kids. Colby and Derek stopped making sandwiches and joined them at the kitchen table. With shaky voices, Tim and Emily told the story, detail by gruesome detail. The feathers sticking to Tim’s boots were a grim illustration that they were not exaggerating.

  Colby stood and started pacing. “I’m going to kill them,” he muttered. “I’m going to kill them.” His eyes were as cold as slate.

  Abby was certain that Toby, Chad, and Glen were to blame, and it made her boiling mad, she also worried about the boys’ safety. She had never seen Colby filled with so much hatred. He was a keg of dynamite ready to explode.

  Abby had to buy time. Let Colby simmer down. “Are you sure you closed the barn door?” she asked.

  Emily nodded emphatically.

  “It was them alright,” Tim cried. “I saw their sneaker prints.”

  “We need to do something about it,” Abby said. “Let’s talk about it as council tonight.”

  Colby ripped open a cutlery drawer and grabbed a carving knife. “I’m not waiting. Abby, we won’t get any more eggs because of them. No more milk. What are Chloe and Clive supposed to drink? They did more than steal from us. They put all of our lives in danger.”

  She agreed with every word, but she kept her head still. Nodding would only encourage him.

  Abby held her hand out, palm up, and approached him. “Put the knife down.” Her voice surprised her. It was rock steady. Colby appeared frightened, as if he had crossed a line and didn’t know how to reel himself back in. “Please,” she added, “we’ll do something now.”

  “What?” he growled.

  Abby had no idea.

  Colby rattled the knife in the drawer and slammed it shut. He folded his arms and gave her a hard stare, waiting for her to speak.

  “We’ll go see them,” she said. “Right now. You, me, and Jordan.” Abby hoped that she and Jordan together might be able to prevent Colby from doing something they would all regret.

  When Colby grunted his agreement, Abby felt herself tremble all over, a delayed reaction of nerves to the volatile situation.

  Kevin reported seeing Toby’s Mustang parked a block away from the Leigh’s house, on the other side of Melrose Street. Abby wished that he hadn’t seen it. The longer it took them to find the trio of renegade boys, the more time there would have been for Colby to calm down.