“I want to stop at Gramp’s place,” Zach said, “It’s not far out of the way.” He glanced at the sky and held out his hand, then climbed in. “I need to deal with some things.”
“Near Sedro, right?” Lizzie stuck her hand out the window and felt rain beginning to fall. The sky to the south was an ominous gray.
They found Vern loading heads of cabbage into a truck. He had a surgical mask over his mouth and nose. He held up his hands. Don’t come any closer.
Zach rolled down the window and slid the Tank into Park. “What’s up, Vern?”
“A new arrival from last week is sick. So are the people that hung around with him.”
“Shit.” Lizzie muttered. “Bad news.”
Zach glanced at Nev, “So the cop was right.”
Nev nodded. “Another good reason to head east.”
‘We’re heading over the pass—east,” Zach called to Vern. “Any new dead?”
“No,” Vern said, shaking his head. “You’re young. Hope you make it. Good luck.” He tipped his straw hat and headed back to the garden.
Zach slid the gearshift into reverse and hit the window up button.
“Hey, wait.” Vern had turned back and was running and waving at them.
Zach rolled the window back down. “Yeah?”
“A kid was looking for Lizzie.” Vern voice puffed out with steam. “Said he was friends from high school.”
Zach glanced at Lizzie, her face had drained of color. “What did you tell him?”
“Said I’d seen her around with some folks in a truck. Might’ve said your name. Bad news?”
Zach nodded. “Yeah. You see him again? Tell him we headed north.”
Vern nodded, his happy face troubled by a frown. “Okay. Good luck.”
“Thanks,” Zach said and pulled the Tank around. “Good thing we’re leaving town.”
“Yeah,” Lizzie said. “Let’s do it.” She felt like she’d seen a ghost.
They stopped at R.E.I. for hiking/camping gear and Ace Hardware for a skinny garden hose to use as siphon. They broke into a register there to have cash for gas stations if and when the credit cards stopped working.
When they pulled into a long gravel road with Riley on the mailbox, Lizzie realized how long it had been since any of them had spoken.
Zach’s hands were tight on the wheel and his jaw matched. Lizzie saw a backhoe and a pile of cement slabs stacked in a pyramid near a series of garages and sheds. Zach still hadn’t said anything about his family.
The Tank rolled to a stop and Zach killed the engine. Saj woke up fussing.
“Dammit.” Lizzie fumbled through the baby bag for some food. “I bet you’re hungry, Saj. Sissie isn’t doin’ so hot taking care of you today.”
In the back seat Spike whined in harmony with Saj.
“Zach,” Lizzie said softly, “I think we better eat something.”
“Fine.” He glared and headed into the house.
“What the hell did I say?”
Nev shrugged.
Lizzie chose to leave it alone. She would probably make it worse if she forced it out into the open.
“I can help,” Nev called after Zach and followed him inside.
Lizzie stayed in the Tank alternating bites of baby food between Spike and Saj.
Zach came back outside and fired up the gas grill on the porch.
The barbecue was smoking and Zach brought out a small cooler of beer, knock off-brand soda pop and some meat patties. “Ground venison. Waste if that ends up freezer-burned.”
Saj played in the dirt with a stick. Spike sat all folded up with his arms around his legs, watching everything and everyone.
When the meat hit the grill, the scent made Lizzie’s mouth water. She picked through the beer to get a crème soda and popped the top, sipping the carbonated sugar.
When the meat came out it was amazing, wild and peppery. “I don’t know if I’ve ever tasted any meat this good,” Lizzie said. “Even better than the steak you made the other night.”
Zach nodded, eating quickly and silently. Then he disappeared, muttering something about things to do.
Lizzie wiped up the last of the burger juices, wishing she had some decent bread to sop it up with.
Noises of power tools came from the shop.
Nev stood. “I’m going to go check on him.”
“Okay.” Lizzie zoomed in on Saj as the stick headed toward his mouth. She had a sudden vision of him falling over and the stick tearing through his baby skin. She pulled the stick away as he began to howl. “Sorry, Saj. I shouldn’t have let you play with it anyway.”
A few minutes later, Zach reappeared with a wooden cross almost as tall as Lizzie. It looked like two cedar fence posts held together by a giant bolt and then wrapped in rope. Nev followed him with a sledgehammer, axe tool. Lizzie picked up Saj and followed. Spike watched them all, with his head cocked slightly to the side.
When they reached the pyramid of cement, Zach laid the cross down and took the axe thing from Nev. He swung it high and straight into the ground. It sunk in up to the handle. He extracted the tool and placed the pointed end of the cross in the ground. Nev held it vertical while he tapped the top with the sledgehammer side.
The cross slid into the soil. From the little signs that said beans and corn, Lizzie decided this must have been the garden.
When it didn’t go in any deeper, Zach swung the tool high; it smacked hard into the wood and the sound echoed of the outbuildings. Then he dropped the tool and stood for a moment staring at the pile.
Lizzie wanted to go to him, comfort him, but Nev was already there. Her hand on his arm. He pulled himself away and strode back toward the backhoe. He fired it up with a puff of dark smoke and drove it into one of the garages. He pulled the door closed with a bang and hollered, “Let’s go.”
Nev looked at Lizzie, pleading for an answer, advice. Lizzie had nothing to offer. “Let’s go.”
By the time they reached I-5, the dark rain clouds Lizzie had been watching opened in a downpour. As the sun went down the raindrops flew and the wind buffeted the giant truck.
“It’s about 5 o’clock,” Zach said. “Let’s spend the night in Cle Elum. There’s a nice resort there.”
Overhead a flock of trumpeters hooted southward.
Lizzie plugged in her player to the USB and the sound came through the speakers. Screaming Trees came on. “I nearly lost you...” she sang. “Nice system.”
On the deserted highway near Marysville a doe and two fawns that had outgrown their spots ate grass in the median.
“Want more venison?” Zach asked. “Not like we’re gonna run out of food anytime soon.” He shook his head in annoyance. “‘Anyone wanna help me field dress a deer?”
“Ew,” Nev said from the back.
Lizzie pictured the lovely creatures riddled and bloody. “My shotgun’s for protecting us.”
“He’s not coming after us,” Zach snapped.
“I killed his brother, stupid. Some people take that kind of thing personal, apocalypse or not.” Lizzie crossed her arms—the music played on. What the hell?
When they neared the I-405 cutoff, Nev spoke, “That’s new.”
Liz looked up from her reverie. The message on the giant safety sign said, ‘ALL SURVIVORS REPORT TO THE CONVENTION CENTER ABOVE I-5!’
“When we came through last time,” Nev chuckled. “They had the ‘EXPRESS LANES CLOSED’ warnings on.”
Zach nodded. “Maybe they’re getting things together. Should we go into Seattle?”
“NO!” Liz felt her heart begin to pound; her lungs felt tight. “Please.”
A whine came from Spike in the back.
“Okay.” Zach’s voice was calm. “When we get back.”
Lizzie chest felt tight. “I don’t mean to freak— Once we decided... I can’t.”
Nev reached across the back seat and hugged her. “Lizzie, no worries. It’s all good. Even if it’s not.”
Lizzie’s h
eart slowed. “Thanks.” She enjoyed the warmth of Nev’s arms around her.
“Girl, you got a direction, something to do.” Nev whispered in her ear. Then louder she continued, “Zach and I are along for the ride, right?”
Zach reached across and squeezed her knee. “Yeah. We’re gonna go meet your dad and Jess and then we decide on other stuff.”
The rain fell as the sky faded. With no traffic, they made good time. Stopping in North Bend to refill the gas tank and empty their bladders, they snagged ice cream, coffee and junk food, then drove on into the darkening evening.
Lizzie watched the wipers hypnotically splash away the giant raindrops. Tom Petty sang “Hard on Me;” the raindrops split into little lumps.
“Snow.” Zach turned the wipers up a notch. “Pretty wet, though. We should be fine.”
“Looks like God spit,” Nev joked.
“Slain,” Lizzie said, “slush and rain.”
The Tank’s lights cut through the darkness. The snow thickened until it reminded Lizzie of the movie two days ago. “Prepare for jump to hyperspace?” she said.
“I’ve got a bad feeling about this.” Nev laughed.
“Trust the force.” Zach growled in low tones.
They all laughed. Spike joined in with an awkward breathy guffaw. Did he understand?
They climbed toward the pass as the flakes grew and everyone slipped back into their own thoughts.
“Glad we have this beast of a truck.” Zach’s knuckles were white on the steering wheel.
“It doesn’t look deep.” Nev said. “I love how pretty the trees are. Feels like Christmas.”
“No. it’s not deep. We’ll stay in the middle of the highway and keep on going.” Zach grinned. “Four-wheel drive hasn’t even kicked in yet.”
“We gonna make it over the pass?” Lizzie ran her fingers over her old scars.
“Yeah.”
But Lizzie saw his jaw strain as tight as his fingers. Suddenly she felt the truck turn, but Zach’s hands hadn’t moved on the wheel. His eyes widened.
The Tank slid. The automatic 4X4 light flashed. The vehicle shook sideways. They slipped toward the edge of the road. Her seatbelt dug into her shoulder. Saj is in his car-seat.
“Shit!” Zach spun the wheel. It didn’t make any difference in their direction.
Zach turned the wheel toward the cliff.
“Zach!” Lizzie yelled.
“Trust me!” Zach yelled back.
Time slowed. She pictured them rolling down into the trees, the Tank exploding in a blast of fire in the pure white snow. The snowbank didn’t look high enough to stop them. The stereo pounded bass.
17
LIZZIE FROZE AS NEV SCREAMED. Saj howled. Metal screeched behind them.
The Tank crunched into gravel on the edge of the shoulder. It slid into the snowbank.
Lizzie saw nothing on the other side but emptiness.
Chill. She clutched the ‘Oh, shit’ handle. She shoved her feet against the floor like she could jump out. She couldn’t do anything. Tune out the screams and chaos and wait. Snow shot up as they hit the bank.
Then it all stopped. And they were all still alive. Lizzie breathed.
Zach punched the stereo off and killed the engine. “Mother-fuckin’ shit!”
Saj and Spike howled in unison. Spike bounced up and down in the back seat.
Zach shook, staring at his hands.
Only Nev‘s mouth moved, “Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god.”
Lizzie turned to console the boys. “Saj, Spike, it’s okay. Everything’s okay.”
“Everybody quiet!” Zach slammed his fists on the dashboard. Saj and Spike continued their cries. He jerked the door open, hopped down into the snow and shoved the door shut.
Lizzie tried to calm herself as the Tank shook. She glanced out her window. “ZACH!”
He spun toward her and pulled the door open. “What?”
Lizzie’s voice was icy calm. “If I step out my door I will fall hundreds of feet. Please, get in and drive the Tank back away from the edge.”
Zach’s eyes grew. He climbed in, started the engine and turned the front wheels toward the road. “First gear,” he said, is if it would provide comfort, “All wheel drive.” The engine revved and the beast slipped forward. A screech of metal came from behind. The 4X4 light blinked as the screech turned into a clunk, clunk sound. When they were back on the freeway Zach stepped on the brakes and the Tank slid to a stop. He put it in park and stepped on the emergency brake. “Better?”
“Yeah.” Lizzie nodded. I guess I really don’t want to die. “Thanks.”
Lizzie listened to her breath, her air sucking in and out. Her mind spun though the Tank was still.
“Now I better figure out what the hell that noise was.” Zach slammed the driver’s door again.
Lizzie shifted in her seat. “Nev, get Saj out of the car seat. Probably needs his diaper changed and something to eat. What time is it? Let Spike out, too. Zach can deal with him.”
Nev handed Saj to Lizzie, flipped the door open and pulled the back seat up for Spike.
“Spike. Get out,” Lizzie said. “You can play.”
Spike scrambled out. Nev pulled the door shut as snowflakes flew in. Spike bounced around like a child, while Zach pounded on the hood of the truck.
“Too much testosterone.” Lizzie bounced Saj. “TMT, way more dangerous than TNT. You’re not gonna be like that are you, Saj?”
“Of course he is, Lizzie. Not a whole hell of a lot you can do about it.”
“S’pose not.” Lizzie knew Nev was right. Jason had started getting to be like that. “Get me some formula?”
Saj had calmed down. As Lizzie changed his diaper; the cold brought his penis erect. “Look at that cute little wingwer.”
“Probably why all men feel inadequate.” Nev poured water from the thermos into a bottle. “Their mother’s always told them they have cute little thingies!”
“That’d be weird.” Lizzie laughed. “My, what a big penis you have, young man.” She grinned at Nev. “Think that’ll help?”
“Maybe. Not having a deluge of pop culture will probably help.” Nev shook the bottle. “This isn’t warm.”
“Better than too hot. I expect he won’t mind as long as it doesn’t scald or freeze his tummy.”
Nev handed her the bottle.
“Hungry, little man?” As Lizzie brought the bottle close, his hands grasped it and pulled it toward his face. “Not in your eye, Saj.” Lizzie redirected it. “That’s better.”
Dealing with Saj calmed her. “That was pretty freaky.”
“Yeah.” Nev shook her head. “Figured we all survived the plague to die on the mountain in the snow. On fire.”
Zach opened the door. “Everybody all right?” Snow blew in.
“Yeah.” Nev answered. “Still alive. How are you doing?”
“I’m okay. Thought we bought it.” Zach climbed into the cab and pulled the door shut. “The trailer’s hella twisted sideways and the tongue is bent.” Snowflakes inched down his face. His several-day stubble had little crystals stuck in it. “I unhitched it and got the gas cans on the top racks and tied them down.” He wiped his face with his hands. “I don’t think it’s a good idea to head further up the pass. Snow’s not thick, but there’s a sheet of ice an inch down.”
“We can try again tomorrow,” Lizzie agreed.
“I don’t think so, Lizzie. Maybe with chains, which we didn’t think to get.” He watched her, his jaw firm and his eyes intense. “We’re not crossing the pass this winter.”
“Zach.” The recent warmth of safety disappeared and ice replaced it in Lizzie’s stomach. “I need to get to Salt Lake.”
“Lizzie—” Zach warned.
“Please?” Lizzie watched him shove down an angry explosion.
“I’m not ready to die,” Zach said through gritted teeth.
“Guys, we’ll figure it out.” Nev hugged Lizzie over the seat, smoothed her hair back. �
�We’ll get you and your dad together.”
Zach exhaled. “This pass is not the only way to Salt Lake City. We’ll go down I-5 and cross over by the Columbia.”
Lizzie nodded, her face flushed. She didn’t trust herself to speak.
“I’ll get Spike.” Zach climbed out into the swirling snow.
Spike danced in the headlights, his mouth open.
“Spike is hilarious.” Nev laughed. “Like he’s never seen snow.”
“I wonder if he remembers before the virus?” Lizzie said.
“Don’t know. We better get him in before he catches pneumonia.”
Spike didn’t want to come along. Zach pulled at him, but Spike was taller and heavier. After a couple attempts, Zach climbed back in. “We’re going. I can’t fight him into the truck. Maybe if we go, he’ll want to go with us.” He started the truck; its throaty rumble roared.
“Wait!” Lizzie growled. She handed Saj back over the seat to Nev. “Don’t ever drive without the kid in the car seat.” Jerkwad had backed out of the driveway and knocked Jayce’s head against the window once. “Give me your coat, mine’s in the way back.”
Zach shrugged out of it; Lizzie slipped into its warmth. She zipped it up and pulled the hood over her head. “Be right back.” She opened the door and jumped down into the snow, shoving the door shut behind her. “Spike?”
Spike giggled, trying to catch snowflakes on his tongue. Ice covered his scraggly salt and pepper beard.
“Spike.” He turned to her, smiling a delighted grin. Lizzie had never seen him this happy. “Come on, big man.” She opened her mouth and caught some snow. “It’s fun.” And it was. She smiled back at him and caught a few more, letting their icy chill turn down the heat of her anger. “Spike, we gotta get back in the Tank. You’re gonna freeze out here.” The door opened and shut behind her. Spike wasn’t listening or understanding.
“Not really working, huh?” Nev asked. She picked up some snow and made a snowball, tossing it at Spike.
Spike turned a bemused grin on his face.
“Good idea, Nev.” Lizzie knelt and picked up a double handful of snow. She pressed it into a ball and held it up for Spike. “Here, Spike. Here’s a big one.” He came toward her.
ALL IS SILENCE Page 13
