by Lukens, Mark
He tried to think of the terrible things humans had experienced throughout history. He imagined how people had lived during the twelfth and thirteenth centuries; he tried to imagine how people had dealt with the Black Plague. Families had lost loved ones countless times throughout history to disease, accidents, and violence. Families had dealt with the kind of loss he was feeling right now and they had forced themselves to move on. This was just another dark time in history right now—maybe the worst time—but he still needed to be strong for his kids for as long as he could. And he needed to be strong for Emma. She was now his responsibility, whether he wanted to admit it or not. He had to believe in science and the government. He had to believe that the leaders of America were reacting to this outbreak at this very moment. He had to believe that they had planned for something like this, planned for every conceivable disaster possible. He had to believe that there were countless people around the world working on this problem right now.
But he had seen the bad side of the government in his neighborhood yesterday, the dark side of martial law. They hadn’t been quarantining people; they had been rounding them up. Killing them? Eradicating the exposed? Studying them? Who knew? All Ray knew was that all of the soldiers had been wearing protective gear.
Had the protective gear helped?
Maybe. Ray wondered if Emma had some kind of dust masks and gloves. If she’d known something bad was coming, if she had prepared like she had, then maybe she had “seen” far enough into the future to buy some masks and gloves. But if she had them then why wasn’t she wearing them? And she would have told him by now if she had protective gear for them.
So many questions. He needed to talk to Emma without Mike and Vanessa overhearing.
Ray took one last look around the bedroom. He had the bottle of pills shoved down in his pants pocket again (just in case). He didn’t need anything else in here, and he didn’t want anyone coming back in here. He opened the door, twisted the lock on the doorknob, and shut it when he was out in the hall so Mike and Vanessa couldn’t get inside. He hurried across the hall to the bathroom and went inside. He shut and locked the door.
He looked at himself in the mirror, making sure he didn’t look too bad. His face was puffy from crying, his nose tender. But his eyes were dry now.
“Please, God,” Ray whispered. He’d never been a very religious man, but what harm could prayer do now? “Please let my kids be okay. Please help me protect them.” He said a few quick prayers for Kim and then left the bathroom.
Mike and Vanessa were sitting on the couch. Emma was seated in the chair. Mike was reading his comic book and Vanessa seemed to be on the verge of sleep. They looked up when he entered the living room.
“Is Mom okay?” Vanessa asked in a drowsy voice.
Ray shook his head no. “She’s . . . she’s real sick.”
“Can I see her?” Vanessa asked.
He had to be careful, and he could feel his throat constricting. He kept his mouth tight for a moment and shook his head. “Not right now, baby.”
Mike just stared at Ray in shock. He knew the truth, but he wasn’t saying anything, perhaps hoping and praying that he was wrong.
Ray looked at Emma. “We can’t stay here much longer.”
She nodded like she already knew that.
“Those bars on the windows will keep the rippers out, but the front door and the sliding glass doors in the kitchen, they’re not going to hold them out forever.”
She nodded again, agreeing with him.
“I know a place we can go,” Ray said. “It’s about thirty miles away from here, but I think it will be safer. It’s Craig’s house, the man I mentioned before. He was my supervisor at work. He was the one I was talking to on the phone before the service went out. He was the one who told me about Avalon.”
If the word had triggered some kind of revelation from Emma, she wasn’t showing it.
“It will be dark pretty soon,” Ray continued. “I think we should leave before it gets dark.”
Emma nodded.
“What about Mom?” Vanessa asked.
Ray didn’t answer his daughter. He moved closer to Emma. “Can I talk to you for a minute?”
Emma stood up. “We can go to my bedroom.”
Ray looked at Mike and Vanessa. “You two stay there.” He looked at Mike. “You take care of your sister. Keep an eye on her.”
Mike nodded, but he looked like he was about to burst into tears at any moment. “I’ll talk to you two in a minute,” Ray told them.
He followed Emma down to the end of the hall to her bedroom, passing the locked door to the guest bedroom, where his dead wife lay on the bed inside, wrapped in a sheet.
“We need to keep our voices low,” Ray said once they were inside Emma’s bedroom. He looked at the closed bedroom door. His voice hitched again as he continued. “Mike has a . . . he has a habit of trying to eavesdrop.” He couldn’t help smiling, and he had to fight back the tears.
“Okay,” Emma said.
“Kim . . . she’s gone. She . . . just went to sleep and now she’s gone.”
Emma didn’t say anything.
“I’m going to have to tell Mike and Vanessa. I don’t know exactly what I’m going to say, but I need to tell them. I think Mike already knows.”
Emma just nodded like she already knew that.
And what else did she know?
“After we’re done talking,” Ray said, “if you could wait a few minutes in here, let me have some time alone with them?”
“Sure.”
“It’s going to be dangerous going to Craig’s house, but I think we need to try. He said something about answers to what’s going on. I have to try; it’s better than just sitting here and waiting.”
“Yes.”
“Like I said out there, we need to leave pretty soon. Before it gets dark. I don’t know how safe it will be traveling at night. We need to get some stuff together. Do you have a bag you can pack?”
“I’ve got a duffel bag I can put a few changes of clothes into.”
Ray nodded. “There’s not a ton of room in our truck.”
“I just have the one duffel bag,” she said.
“Take an extra pair of shoes with you. Something sturdy that you can walk in.”
She nodded.
“We’ll put another bag together with a few extra drinks and some food from your pantry. We’ve got some food in the truck, but a little more won’t hurt. I’m hoping Craig has some food at his house, but we can’t depend on that.”
“Okay,” she said.
Emma stood there in front of Ray like she was waiting for him to say something more. Like she knew he had more to say, like she was bracing herself from an assault that she knew was coming.
“Your . . . powers—” Ray began.
“They’re not powers,” she interrupted.
“The things you . . . you sense. You can tell certain things. Right?”
She nodded, waiting. “Sometimes.”
“You knew Kim was sick.”
“Yes.”
Ray didn’t want to ask; he’d never been so afraid of anything in his whole life, but he had to know. He had to be prepared. “Do you know if any of the rest of us are sick?” His mouth went dry as he waited for her response.
Emma nodded. “Just one.”
Ray’s heart skipped a beat. But before he could ask her about it, he heard Mike yelling from the living room.
“Dad!” Mike yelled. “Vanessa just tried to bite me!”
CHAPTER 28
Ray felt like his world was spinning out of control. A rush of emotions stormed through him, conflicting and combating each other. He was sick with himself because he felt relief that only one of his children was infected with the disease. But he was also overcome with dread because he didn’t need to ask Emma which one of them it was.
I’m not ready for this. I’m not ready for this.
He rushed out to the living room, his legs somehow weak with
fear yet surging with adrenaline at the same time.
Maybe Emma was wrong. She’d been right about Kim, but maybe she was wrong about Vanessa.
He was in the living room, staring at Mike who was seated at one end of the couch, holding his forearm. Vanessa was curled up at the other end, her face blank. She was rocking just slightly, looking so much like Kim had only hours ago.
“Did she bite you?” Ray asked Mike.
He shook his head no. “She grabbed me. She had her mouth open. She was trying to bite me.” His words trailed off. He looked scared, but maybe more frightened that his father wasn’t going to believe him. He looked like he was scared he was the one who was going to be in trouble for this.
Ray looked at Vanessa. “Did you try to bite Mike?” His mouth was so dry now as he spoke the words.
“I don’t know,” she said, her expression still blank. And then she started talking, but she was whispering so low that her words were unintelligible.
“What’s that, baby?” Ray asked, biting back his tears.
She looked at him and stopped whispering. She stopped rocking. She had that confused look on her face just like Kim had when he had tapped her on the shoulder as she crouched in the corner. “Bad moon,” she whispered.
“What does that mean?” Ray asked.
“Bad things,” she said, and then she shook her head a little like she was trying to clear it. “I’m sorry,” she said, and now her voice sounded like her own again. “I didn’t mean to do it.” She started crying, sniffling.
Ray wanted to rush over to his daughter and pick her up, hold her, hug her, protect her, tell her everything was going to be okay.
But he didn’t move. There was something in his daughter’s eyes, something untrustworthy, like a mongrel dog that might attack.
“Are you okay now?” Ray asked Vanessa.
She nodded, rubbing at her eyes, the tears drying up right away.
“Mike,” Ray said, looking at his son. “Let’s go to the kitchen and get Vanessa something to drink.” He looked back at Vanessa. “You want something to drink?”
She nodded.
Mike got up and Ray met him in the kitchen. Ray grabbed a can of soda. Emma was still in the bedroom, giving him a few minutes alone with his kids as she had promised and getting her bag together so they could leave soon.
“Mom’s dead, isn’t she?” Mike said.
Ray felt like he’d been punched in the heart. He wanted to look away from his son’s eyes, but he didn’t—he made himself look right into Mike’s eyes as he nodded. “I’m sorry.”
Fat tears spilled from Mike’s eyes.
Ray hugged his son. “I’m sorry. So sorry.”
Mike pulled away from Ray and wiped at his eyes.
“We need to get ready to go,” Ray said after clearing his throat. “Okay?”
Mike nodded.
“As soon as Emma is ready, and as soon as we get a bag of food and drinks together, we’re leaving.”
Mike nodded again. He didn’t ask where they were going, or anything else, his usual fountain of questions was dried up now. He looked like he was in shock.
“Are you going to be ready when it’s time leave?” Ray asked. “I need you to be ready.”
Mike nodded.
CHAPTER 29
Emma had said only one of them was sick, and Ray knew now that it was Vanessa.
Oh God, his baby girl. Why?
Did that mean that the rest of them weren’t infected yet? Did it mean that they were immune? God knew all of them had to have been exposed to the disease by now.
He felt a sickeningly sense of selfishness right now. He was relieved that at least one of his children might be spared, that he himself might be spared to protect Mike and Emma. But he was feeling an irrational hatred of Emma right now, like she was somehow involved with this calamity even though she couldn’t possibly be. Emma wasn’t the cause of this, but he felt so hopeless, like he needed to lash out at something, like he needed to hate something, blame something. Ray had never been an emotional man, and maybe that’s why Kim had turned to another man for comfort. But now his emotions seemed to be out of control, like he was overloading on them. It was a constant fight to keep his mind clear and keep himself focused on the tasks that needed to be done.
What was he going to do about Vanessa?
He was going to take her with them to Craig’s house, that’s what he was going to do. Maybe there was some kind of cure at Craig’s house. He imagined a vial of blue liquid locked away in a safe somewhere in Craig’s office, the cure left there for Ray and his family. Probably not, but he was going to take Vanessa with them if there was even the slightest chance that he could help her. He had to try.
It wouldn’t be long before Vanessa turned. She was already at the stage he’d seen Kim at only a few hours ago; that stage of confusion and rage . . . and hunger. She’d already tried to bite Mike.
Emma was ready to go now. She had a duffel bag packed full, and she had a collapsible walking stick with her. She had an electronic walking stick that ran off batteries—it emitted a small beeping sound when she came across something in her path—but she didn’t want to use it in case the sound drew the rippers.
Ray had already packed a cloth shopping bag full of drinks and canned food. It was extra weight to carry, but he wanted to take something in case their vehicle had been looted while they’d been in Emma’s condo. Maybe the rippers had shattered the windows of their Chevy Tahoe and taken their food and drinks. Or maybe other survivors had stolen their food.
Mike and Vanessa waited on the couch, one on each end of it, Mike sitting as far away from his sister as he could. Vanessa was rocking a little, whispering words none of them could hear, trapped for moments at a time in her own world. Mike was tense; he looked like he was ready to jump up in a flash if Vanessa made a move towards him.
They were all ready to go. Before Ray could say anything there was a sound from outside, a roaring sound right above them.
“What’s that?” Mike yelled.
Ray looked up at the ceiling. The roaring was already past them. “Airplanes,” he said. “Fighter jets, I think.”
Fighter jets roaring past. Did that mean the military was still out there, still trying to battle the rippers? Was there still some kind of hope?
But then Ray’s hopes were dashed seconds later when he heard the explosions. The vibrations from the explosions rumbled through the building, actually shaking the walls like they were in an earthquake.
They’re blowing up Washington D.C. They aren’t winning the battle; this is a last-ditch effort to eradicate as many rippers as they can.
“Dad!” Mike yelled. He was on his feet now, still staring at the ceiling as if he could see through it, as if he could see the fighter jets in the sky. “Those planes just blew something up.”
Vanessa stared up at the ceiling just like her brother, her eyes big and round. “Bad moon,” she whispered. “Bad moon.”
Mike was right. The airplanes just dropped some bombs. And from the direction the sound had come from, Ray was certain they had just bombed Washington D.C. Were they nuclear bombs? Was a shockwave coming their way? A cloud of radiation?
“We gotta go now!” Ray told them. He already had his truck keys in his hand. “We need to get as far away from the city as possible.” At least Craig’s house was in the opposite direction from D.C., farther way from the city, with some hills and small mountains in between.
“I’m going to get the truck,” Ray said.
Mike looked instantly nervous. “Dad . . .”
“I’m going to make sure the truck is okay, get it started, and bring it back here. Drive it right through the breezeway. I’m going to park it right outside the door so we can all get inside.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mike practically begged.
“No, Mike. You need to stay here with Vanessa and Emma. They need you right now.”
Mike didn’t argue, he sniffled, doing his best
to hold back tears. He nodded.
“Can you take this when I get the truck here?” Ray asked, handing Mike the bag of food and drinks.
Mike grabbed the bag. It was a little heavy, but nothing he couldn’t handle. He rolled his Incredible Hulk comic book up and stuffed it down into the bag.
Ray could sense Mike’s fear about going outside again, back out there where they had run from the horde of rippers, but it had to be done. Staying here would eventually be a deathtrap. He wished he had time to explain all of that to Mike, but they needed to go now. What if those planes came back around to drop more bombs? Or what if other bombers were on their way?
He went to the condo door and unlocked the deadbolt, and then he twisted the little lock on the doorknob. He looked back at Mike before he opened the door.
Mike stood next to Emma. Vanessa was still curled up in the corner of the couch, staring at the corner of the living room like she could see something that none of them could see. She was rocking just a bit on the couch . . . just like Kim had done.
Ray stared at Mike. “You lock this door when I leave. Don’t open it until you hear our truck outside or you hear me knock on the door. You got that?”
Mike nodded and hurried over to the door, giving Ray a hug.
“I’ll be back,” Ray told him. “I promise. Just remember to lock the door. Don’t open it for anyone but me. Look through this peephole first before you open it.”
Mike wiped at his tears again, but he nodded.
Ray’s hands were shaking as he opened the door. He had his golf club in one hand and a kitchen knife in the other. He peeked out the door. There was no one around that he could see in the courtyard. He looked across the yard to the other buildings. There was no one on the balconies now, no one coming outside to see what the noise from the airplanes had been. From the doorway, Ray couldn’t see too much of the sky with the walkway above making a roof over Emma’s front door, but those bombs had sounded pretty close.
