“Dog loved you a whole lot. We all looked out for you, but he loved you most.”
“We all changed. Him most of all.”
Goof looked at the beautiful, luminous woman at his side. Swirling rainbow colors. Tresses played around her head, as if gravity didn’t apply to her. Head filled with souls and prophecy. She appeared to float more than walk along the old, cracked road.
“You know, we all thought you was a retarded normal,” he said.
“You was kind and protected me anyway. You don’t fight for your kind but for the weak. That’s what makes you special.”
Mary had said she couldn’t hurt people. A liability in this new world. He’d go on protecting her as he always did.
“And a very wise man,” Goof said. “Let’s not forget that. So what does that wisdom of yours tell you about what comes next? Will we win the war?”
“What comes next is people.”
“Prophecy don’t do no good if I ain’t got a clue what you’re talking about.”
“Look, Big Brother.”
A pall of drifting smoke hung in the sky. Below, a group of people struggled along the road. He stopped and watched them approach.
“I hope they’re nice,” he said.
“They’re what comes next,” Mary said.
Goof smiled and narrowed his eyes. They might be people he could make laugh. People he could annoy to make himself laugh. Hopefully, people who wouldn’t scream their heads off and try to kill him.
“If they got any food to share, I’ll be their best friend,” he said. “You do the talking. If that don’t work, I’ll talk for them.”
The figures stopped in the road. A woman pointed at them.
“I declare,” Goof said. “That’s Ms. Oliver.”
He pedaled toward them, Mary following.
A boy raised a shotgun and aimed it at him. “That’s close enough, kid.”
“Hey, Ms. Oliver.”
“Jeff? I thought you were at Special Facility.”
Goof grinned. “They let me out for good behavior.”
“My God,” the teacher said. “Mary, is that you?”
“Far more than Mary now.”
“Yes, you’re—you’ve changed.”
“The world ain’t scary to me no more,” Mary said.
“Well,” Ms. Oliver said.
The teacher didn’t say what they were all thinking. The world had become scary for everybody else.
“We won’t harm you, Ms. Oliver,” Mary said. “Any of you.”
“That’s good,” the boy said and let the gun drop to his side.
“Unless you got a Snickers,” Goof said. “Because I would kill somebody for a Snickers right now.”
“We don’t have—”
“Any food. Too bad for me.”
“We don’t want to hurt anybody, neither. A downed telephone pole is blocking the road down a ways. We had to ditch our cars. We’re bone-tired and just trying to get home.”
Goof smiled at the girl at the boy’s side. “I don’t know you, cousin.”
“I’m Amy. Hi.”
“Hi yourself, Gorgeous.”
“I’m Jake,” the boy said and introduced the rest of his party.
“Nice to meet you folks,” Goof said, meaning it.
He wasn’t like Brain. He didn’t want to fight the whole world.
“We’re trying to stay out of the fighting,” Jake told him. “We’re trying to get the fighting to stop.”
“Seems like we’re on the same side, then. Us against everybody.”
“Right now we just want to get home.”
“Sounds good to me,” Goof said. “What’s for breakfast, Mrs. Green? I’m so hungry I could eat the north end of a south-bound mule.”
Jake turned to Amy. “What do you think?”
“If you want to make peace, this is how it starts,” she said.
“You can come with us,” Jake said. “That all right with you, Mrs. Green?”
“I suppose it’ll have to be,” the woman sighed.
Together, the band walked to Mrs. Green’s house. Goof and Jake fetched water from the pump out back. Ms. Oliver and Mr. Benson got a fire going in the fireplace and rigged up a kettle for coffee and grits. Amy and her mama inventoried their pantry and started putting together a big breakfast. Mary roamed the grounds shining with her light, picking up bugs and wildflowers to inspect just like the old Mary did before her change. Goof looked down at his dirty pajamas and thought about getting some new clothes but decided he’d keep the bathrobe, which had become a part of him. He entered the kitchen on slippered feet.
“Hey, Mrs. Green,” he said. “I’m awful hungry.”
The woman’s eyes flickered up and down between his eyes and mouth set in the wrong places. “I’ll fetch you something to tide you over.”
He bounced on his feet as she poured some milk into a tall glass. Cupping it with both hands, he swallowed a mouthful. It was still cool from the refrigerator. He chugged the rest.
“You’re a lifesaver,” he said with a sigh.
She ignored him, back to managing breakfast. Goof looked around at the others working in silence to prepare the communal meal. Every so often, they gazed inward and sighed. They were still coming to terms with all they’d lost and wondering why they, among all the dead, had survived.
“Anything I can do to help, Mrs. Green?”
“You can go sit in the living room and wait until I call you,” she told him.
“Yes, ma’am.”
He found a spot on the couch that looked inviting. Mary drifted past the window cupping a bug she’d found. Jake and Mr. Benson crouched in front of the fireplace and fed it kindling.
“What happens next?” Goof said.
Jake smiled. “Breakfast.”
“Sounds good to me. Can’t change the world on an empty belly.”
The boy stared at the flames as if the real answer were there. Goof gazed with him but saw only fire. The creature Brain made had fed on Huntsville but was now so much bigger than Huntsville. Like a movie monster, it would rampage until it consumed everything or was destroyed. Whether it could be tamed at this point appeared impossible. Whether anybody out there wanted it tamed seemed just as unlikely. Right now, the normals seemed all too eager to do battle with it and kill it.
“After that, we do what we can,” Jake said. “Wherever we can.”
For him, the important thing was to try. A single person trying didn’t make a difference. If enough tried, it could make all the difference in the world. The kid had an earnestness Goof knew he’d enjoy heckling in the near future, but right now, he couldn’t help being swept up in his ideas. Wherever Jake took those ideas, Goof decided he would tag along.
The kettle whistled. Jake pulled it out with an oven mitt and carried it to the kitchen. The house filled with the smells of hot coffee, bacon, and grits smothered in butter. Everybody was talking in the kitchen now. Somebody laughed.
They all came into the living room and found a place to sit. Amy handed Goof a mug of coffee and a heaping plate. He tucked in. The others kept on talking. Ms. Oliver was telling Amy about how she and Mr. Benson met. Jake told Mr. Benson about how much he looked up to his pa, though they sometimes disagreed. Mrs. Green smoked her skinny cigarettes and watched over them all like a mother hen, seemingly grumpy but also content at having these guests grace her home.
Goof bit back a dozen annoying comments and finished sentences, biding his time. Just listening and enjoying the moment. The fire’s heat and good company lulled him into a doze, but he forced himself to stay awake, not wanting to miss a single minute of it. The whole scene was so much like his fantasy of living a normal life. Fellowship and simple pleasures. Hosting a weekend barbecue for his best friends. These people might be his friends now and one day his tribe.
He couldn’t help but think this was how it was always meant to be. The world the way God intended it. People of all kinds sharing a meal. Smiling at the same joys.
Fighting for a common cause. Dreaming the same dreams.
Acknowledgments
There are many people to whom I’m grateful, each having in some way shaped the heart and mind that produced this novel.
Foremost, I want to thank Chris Marrs and my beautiful children, whose love keeps me going.
They and many others have influenced my journey as a writer: Eileen DiLouie, Chris DiLouie, John Dixon, Peter Clines, Ron Bender, Ella Beaumont, Rena Mason, Stephen Knight, Joe McKinney, Randy Heller, all the IFWA and Write Club and HWA folks, and so many more that it’s impossible to list everyone here.
To you all, I’d like to say: You’re one of us.
I’m also grateful to David Fugate, my awesome agent, and Bradley Englert, the best editor I could have hoped for and whose vision took One of Us to a new height. Their belief transformed a dream into publication.
Finally, I’m grateful to you for reading my work and sharing the dream.
By Craig DiLouie
CRASH DIVE
Crash Dive
Silent Running
Battle Stations
Contact!
THE INFECTION WAR
The Infection
Killing Floor
THE RETREAT
Pandemic
Slaughterhouse
Die Laughing
Alamo
Children of God
Suffer the Children
The Alchemists
Tooth and Nail
The Great Planet Robbery
One of Us
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