by P. S. Power
The man that poked his head out didn’t smile. He looked a bit chubby, and had a red hat on his head with letters on it.
“You folks need a ride?” He was a bit southern sounding, but there was an edge to it, as if that were being played up. Probably to put them at ease. Folksy charm at its best.
Howard nodded.
“That would be nice, if it isn’t a problem? These three are from the old folks’ home down the way. There were more left in there, but I didn’t get to them in time.” His jaw clenched then. It would look like he was fighting anger.
The truth was that he didn't want too many questions to be asked. The less he said, the less likely he was going to be given away. The gent in the truck got out, showing he was a large and beefy fellow. Not powerful looking, but over six feet, which was always a bit intimidating. He had a gun, but that was in a holster on his side, not drawn. A large silver thing that was meant to be flashy and intimidate, rather than just kill. No doubt it could do that as well.
“Fu-. Sorry. That’s horrible, there. Just leaving people like that?” A hand came out, toward Howard. It was a little bit slow, as if he didn’t want to spook anyone. “Tank. Tank Demore.”
Not wanting to give anything away, Howard nodded.
“Nice to meet you, Tank. I like the name. I’m Richard. This is… Ethyl, Gary and Eugene. I think.” That last bit took a little acting, but it was part of the scam he was pulling. They were his old people. He’d stolen them fair and square, after all. Not that he was going to keep them. That would be a lot of work, what with the constant feeding and listening to Gary complain about everything under the sun. Ethyl was a bit better than that. As for Gene, the man didn't speak most of the time. When he did it was always very quiet. Like a man that had been beaten down by life and who didn't think he had as much right as anyone else to stand out in the world.
They were all old. The gal, Ethyl, was so frail and thin that she couldn’t stand on her own. Gary was sitting still, for all his earlier talk about moving out under his own power. Gene got up though, meeting the other men on his feet. It was a shaky thing, but one that he did on his own.
Several others got out of the vehicles then. Half of them were women, but they looked normal and not like a rogue gang planning on organ harvesting. Not that the others would be good for that. He might be now, if the changes went all the way through. It really felt like it. There was no pain, inside or out. His joints were loose, as well. He knew he was stronger than he’d ever been, even when he’d been exercising for his job on a daily basis.
One of the ladies, who was plump and a bit hard worn looking, with lank hair and clothing that didn’t fit perfectly, waved as she walked up.
“Tank, are we loading these folks up?”
The big guy nodded.
“Do it, please? We should get you all back to the center. It’s just a high school gym that the feds set up. FEMA? Anyway, we need help for some of these people.” He raised his voice, calling out. Then he helped Howard move Gene into the second vehicle in line. That would put him in alone with the woman that had come up. The others had people with them, so they could talk at least.
The man waved at him.
“You’re with me, Rick?” It was a question, instead of an order or anything like that.
He looked over at the tree.
“Can I bring my cat? Otherwise we’ll need to walk.”
“Sure? I…” The man seemed baffled, until he called out.
“Tabitha? We have a ride. This way.” The cat actually came down the tree, as if called. Which she had been, but it seemed like it was on purpose.
Instead of asking about it, the man just nodded.
“Let’s get going? Straight back, everyone! Flash your lights if you need a stop.”
That got Tank to look over at Howard again, Tabitha in his arms, even if he was too damp for comfort. The big man was as well, after all. It was clear that both of them had been in the deep water not too long before.
“Keep an eye out? I have a partner, but Sam had to head back to the base for a bit, earlier.” He didn't speak until they turned. It took a while, since the mud tried to take them at one point. The man didn't let that happen, sighing when it was done.
Tabby purred in his arms, even if the little, rather young seeming cat had to be annoyed by the dampness of his body.
“We came down as a group, then met up with Darren and Joe. The last SUV back there? Good guys. They work for some kind of fringe radio thing, I think.” From the way it was spoken, the man knew. “Pro-Infected, pro-flag. That kind of thing?’
Howard nodded then, getting that the man was warning him, since he had the wrong shirt on for that.
“Don’t worry, I only lynch people on alternate Saturdays.” The words got him to grin, but stop speaking for a bit. “That’s a joke. I’m Jewish. Before you ask, the shirt is just what I could steal in my size. From the gym?” He got to point, since it was right there, if in the twilight now. “I came by earlier and traded my clothing out. Then headed down the hill and thought I heard something.”
It was true, if not a great answer. Gary and Ethyl had been so quiet that he couldn’t have gotten anything from that far away. Not being that they were inside with the windows closed.
The driver just nodded, his red ball cap holding fast to his head. The hair under it seemed short and tidy, now that Howard bothered to look at it. Brown, for the most part. The man wasn’t old, after all.
“Good to know. About the shirt. I’m not infected. Sam is though. My husband?” There was a quietness to the words, as if he expected a backlash or fear from them.
It wasn’t over the part where the fellow was married to a man, either. That had been considered a perversion back when Howard was a kid, in the thirties. Now it was just a thing. No one cared about that, except people that were much older than he was pretending to be. Glancing in the rearview mirror he saw his own face. It was still just as young seeming as before.
So the years hadn’t charged back or anything, which was good to know.
Looking around, he decided to tell the truth.
“Me too. I gather? Infected I mean. I was in my bed, at the home back there. Then I walked into the mirror, taking the old cat we had with us. I ended up in the gymnasium on the hill there. It was a bit of a hike, let me tell you. Then I stole what I needed and we went back. I didn’t tell them about it. I… I don’t know that things are different enough yet, that way. I was there in sixty-eight, when people started to show powers for the first time. Going crazy and all that.” He stopped talking then, since the man might need to pull over, in order to push him out.
Instead there was just a whistle. It was a long and slow thing. Tuneless, without being shrill.
“Damn. That’s different then. Yeah, we need to keep that quiet, if you can manage to pass like this. Sam doesn’t. He glows in the dark. You’ll see. It’s pretty. Real mellow first mode. What’s yours? His is patience. Nothing gets to him, really. Probably the only reason he can put up with me.”
A first mode was a thing that he’d heard about, if only on television. Most of the people he’d known in the life had just called it their thing or their hang up. First mode was the new politically correct way of saying the same thing. He thought.
“Stealing. That was always my thing, when I was younger. Now it’s stronger. Even getting Gene, Ethyl and Gary out felt like I was stealing them from the place. The difference is I’m not keeping them. Tabby is staying with me though. Unless she doesn’t want to?” That was directed toward the cat, who nestled into him warmly, even if he was damp.
He took it as a sign.
So, it seemed, did Tank.
“That’s sort of rough then. It isn’t anger though, or depression. Those pretty much get a guy killed, I hear. You can control it? Not steal all the time, or anything like that? I’d love to have my wallet at the end of this.”
Howard smiled then.
“You know, this is decently strong, but
I spent most of my life fighting off the impulse. I can handle this. Your wallet is safe.” It would have been anyway, since taking things that were that low gain made the risk not worth it.
The words got a chuckle, as if to say Tank wasn’t certain that was truly the case.
After that, he watched, carefully, in case there was an ambush, or people needed to stop to take a leak. The drive was done slowly, since the roads were out in several places. When they needed to go over land, he hopped out, waving a bit.
“Stop. I’ll walk the field here first.” That was a good thing, it turned out, since the whole world was trying to turn into soup on them. In the end they had to drive on what was probably a bike path, and head through a half flooded residential neighborhood. The place wasn’t high rent, but had the feeling of people that could be expected to have a few nice things. Jewelry that had been given for anniversaries and goodies like that. Nothing he was going to concern himself with, at the moment.
Getting to a place where they were giving out food and clothing made a lot more sense than taking it at the moment. Even if everything inside of him screamed that he should at least go and have a look. Scouting in conditions like that was foolish though. You picked a target, then did the scouting. Doing it the other way around was a good way to get caught.
It took a little bit of a struggle, but after twenty minutes the feeling that he needed to break into some houses started to fade. Luckily, they didn’t drive past any mansions. That would have set him off, rules or not. That part was kind of interesting though. Much like with his collection of elderly people in the other vehicles, he didn’t really want the things in particular.
Just to take them.
As in, he could have stolen the things, set them on the front stoop and walked away, without any problem at all. Then, he’d never had a huge greed issue. It seemed that part was just going to stick with him, in the same way that it always had.
He was in and out of the truck four more times over the next two hours. Once they had to backtrack totally. It added a while to the trip, but saved them from driving through car deep water. You didn't do that if you wanted your engine to keep running.
The school looked like what it was, as they drove up. It wasn’t new, probably, but still had a feeling of not being there for all that long. Thirty years or so, at a guess. The place was sharp seeming, though the parking lot was half way to being a small pond. They had to unload at the doors, though people, some of them cops, came out to help with that part.
One of them, an older man wearing a deep blue windbreaker that said police on it in big white letters, waved them down.
“Demore. You found some people?”
Tank nodded, but waved toward the other trucks behind them.
“Three, from the old folks’ place across town. Um…” He screwed his face up, clearly at a loss on that one.
Howard nodded.
“Shady Lane. They were abandoned inside. We managed to get them out and then here. Most of them. Two were already gone. They’re probably going to be in shock. Is there a doctor around?” He doubted there would be, since that kind didn’t hang out in emergency shelters, as far as he’d ever heard. The rich had better things to do.
So he was a bit surprised when the gray-haired guy nodded.
“Three of them. Oh, Galley, DHS. Don’t let the nifty jacket fool you. My other clothing got soaked.” He grinned, his dark face shining a bit. It was the teeth. Black people did that.
“The same thing happened to me. Then I had to go swimming again.” He stepped out of the truck, knowing that taking a TCC shirt and some sweats in a storm weren’t going to have him arrested. Half of what anyone had that day was probably at least as borrowed.
“We can get you hooked up. You’re all in for the night? We need to send someone out again, at first light. I’d go now, but that’s not going to work. We won’t have any power for at least four days. Maybe longer.”
It didn’t sound like his job, in particular, but Howard nodded anyway. The truth was he looked young at the moment. If he didn’t want big issues there, he had to seem a bit more mature. Which he could pull off. The decades of practice would help.
“I lost my I.D. but I can drive. Stick and automatic. Trucks, cars… All of that. Tell me where you need me to go.” He sounded firm about it, not hesitant or leery about having to work. Adults didn’t do that kind of thing, after all. Not past a certain age. Which was generally about thirty or so.
Galley just let his head come up.
“Thanks. We’ll set a team in the morning. Call it five for the wake up? I can get with you if anything comes up in the night? You wouldn’t think, but things happen. We might need a cat for something, too.”
The man smiled, and reached out to scratch Tabby on the head. She didn't scratch him back or anything, just leaning into the move. It was teasing. The man trying to say that he got that Howard wasn’t all that old. Which was fine, really. As long as there wasn’t a big conversation about it. Then, if he was pressed he could just tell the truth. That wasn’t what he wanted at the moment though. Old habit told him to stick to his current act. Especially with DHS. That hadn’t even been a thing through most of his career, so he was planning to be careful with the man.
The safest thing to do with police, even the federal ones, was to keep far away from them. If you didn’t get a choice, then seeming as normal as possible was the next best thing. Being an old man in a kid’s body wasn’t going to seem exactly kosher, he knew.
There was a slow nod then, from the slightly heavy black man. His gray hair was short and he didn't have a beard, though like most of the others there, including Howard, there was a bit of growth toward that end. He hadn’t shaved for a while, himself. It was just a day’s worth or so.
They all probably could have used a shower or bath, but no one was being all that picky at the moment. After all, there was a real emergency going on. The others, his friends from the home, were carried past, mainly walking, if with a lot of help. Ethyl was nearly carried, a sturdy looking woman on either side of her. Tank waved at someone, who jogged over. A very tall man, who had hair down his back, like a hippie. He also glowed, in several colors, as he moved.
Each step threw off sparks of light, leaving a faint pattern in the air behind him as he did it. There were dozens of colors, as well. Swirling and fluttering the whole time. If they meant anything, Howard couldn’t tell.
When the fellow got there, Howard stuck his right hand out to shake. The big man, who was nearly seven feet, at a guess and skinny enough that sticks were probably jealous of the guy, stared at his shirt. Looking a bit worried, even if he was supposed to be a patient type.
“Richard. Tank mentioned that I could get a different shirt? Not trying to be offensive. It was just what I managed to pick up, earlier.” He didn't mention the theft again. You didn’t, if you had half a brain. That he’d slipped up that much was probably a sign that he was out of sorts. That was a rookie mistake. So had been telling Tank about what was going on.
Sam, the glowing man, nodded then, a soft smile hitting his face. His voice was mild, and the tension that had been there faded.
“We can do that. Would you like something to eat? Do you need us to call your parents for you or anything? Or…” The man stopped then, his face strained.
Howard shrugged then, focusing on the face in front of him. He felt a little like he was being loomed over, but didn’t let it show.
“Food would be great. I don’t know if we can go in. Tabby is staying with me. Right, girl?”
That got a meow, and a nod from Galley.
“Good thought. We have space here though, if you don’t mind sleeping in one of the side rooms? There are a few other animals here. They all have crates. You know, little cages?” He was, cutely enough, speaking directly to the little cat. She was in Howard’s arms, and looked back, then she meowed again. It sounded a bit annoyed, to be truthful.
“Don’t worry, girl. You won’t have to b
e locked up. How do we do this?”
That, it turned out was all up to Sam, who wasn’t in charge of the place, but who had it all hooked up, anyway. It seemed related to his power. Which was just glowing, but with enough interest that everyone noticed him.
That meant he was able to get food for them, while the others were taken away to see doctors.
It wasn’t exactly what Howard needed to do, but it was good enough for that night. In the morning he could work out a decent plan, if he didn’t age by seventy years over night.
He figured that would be what happened, given everything. It would be the most inconvenient possibility, after all. In life, it had been his experience that was how things normally played out.
Chapter three
Scrubbing up in a plastic bucket, standing next to three men who frankly needed to be putting a bit more effort into the whole thing, was different for Howard. Not that he’d never done that kind of thing. You needed to keep your behind clean, in field conditions. The war had taught him that, at a young age. Before that, his mother had insisted on him being tidy all the time, like most people had going on. It was different when you were living without running water though.
There was scrubbing on his part, which was a first for a long time.
Oh, he’d been kept clean, more or less, at Shady Lane. The nurses and orderlies there did that kind of thing for you, if you couldn’t manage it on your own. That was, frankly, about as humiliating a thing as possible in life. Meaning that, standing in the shower room of the high school, in the boy’s portion, he’d stripped all the way down. The water wasn’t warm, and the soap was just the green kind, but he did a good enough job to get himself clean. A thing that would last about half an hour, if he was going out that day.
The air was humid already, and even early in the day, the world was warm.
He had a new stack of clothing though, stolen from the goods pile. If stealing was what they were calling an exchange of clothing like he was doing. True he’d left his dirty sweats from the day before, but it was oddly even that way. After drying off with a bit of towel that smelled a little bit like mildew, he climbed into the fairly clean outfit that he’d picked up.
