by Maxey, Phil
The things will get her… this is your fault…
As he sat in partial silence, only the windscreen wiper providing any noise, guilt threatened to overwhelm him.
So close… just over two days left… so close…
Arlo glanced at the man to his right. Landon’s face was one of torture. “How… long do you want us to stay on this road?”
Landon wanted to scream, shout, smash his hand into the glass in front of him. He needed the pain to take away the guilt. But instead he forced his eyes down to the roadmap. “They would have stayed on the main roads… they must have found a vehicle, otherwise we would have caught up with them by now.”
“So… I ke—”
“Yes! You keep going!”
Arlo hunched slightly in his seat, making Landon feel even worse at the outburst. He sighed, turning away from the driver. “I’m sorry…”
“It’s… okay… Just don’t want to do anything wrong. You’re the cop. You know how to find people.”
He’s right, you’re the officer… do your job, damnit…
“It’s not your fault—”
“Yes it is. She knew I wasn’t going to go back to Denver. But…” He looked at Arlo. “I couldn’t… you get that right?” He continued before Arlo could reply. “But… I should have known… should have explained it to her… I just didn’t think she would…”
It’s because she’s different… the change… she’s not Sam anymore… Like Jess… You’ve lost them both…
“Stop… stop the car… stop…”
Arlo flicked his head left and right. “What did you see? Did you see them?”
Landon started opening the door.
“Oh, right, shit…”
The car skidded to a stop and Landon pushed open the door, promptly emptying his stomach onto the ice. As he heaved again, snot ran down his nose, mingling with tears.
“I did this… She’s going to die, and it will be my fault…”
“It’s not your fault… you couldn’t watch her, like, every minute… and we’ll find her.”
A red eyed Landon turned around. “How? They could be anywhere.”
Arlo shook his head. “Not anywhere. You know where she’s going. She’s going to Denver. We just got to get there before she does.”
Landon let out a breath, grabbing some snow and using it to wash the stench from his face, then closed the door. He held the radio up. “Meg. You out there? Over.”
“I’m here, Landon. Any news? Over.”
He sighed. “No. We haven’t found them. I’m going to need you to look after Josh. We’re heading to Denver. Over.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
7: 09 p.m. Heavercroft School.
Jess watched the trail of headlights snake their way through the black of the countryside, dipping out of sight for a few seconds before reappearing, growing ever closer.
“There’s so many…” said Joyce.
“You damn right there is,” said Sheryl.
“I didn’t think there was anyone left,” said Daryl.
Jess knew the calculations of how many in the population that would be naturally immune, but seeing the almost twenty vehicles making their way to the school was still unexpected. “These people are survivors,” she said under her breath.
The first set of headlights came up over the hill, leveling off. It was a rust colored pickup, with people in the cab and bed, the latter immediately jumping off the back before it stopped. Behind, a motorhome came to a halt, then a series of sedans, SUVs and more pickups, until the road, pushing back a hundred yards was a jam of vehicles. Doors soon opened and a sea of people emerged, the closest of which approached the waiting huddle.
A bearded forty-something man in a camouflaged jacket, with a rifle over his shoulder walked forward. Two similarly dressed women, one older than the other stayed closer to the vehicle. “Vance Gaines.” He gestured behind him. “This is my wife and my kin. Willa and Carly.”
Sheryl walked forward, offering her hand. “Sheryl Webb, Rockston police chief.”
Jess noticed the two women behind shifted position on hearing Sheryl’s title, but the man shook her hand.
A myriad of faces walked forward, until there were at least fifty newcomers standing expectantly in the dark.
“We heard the radio message,” said Vance. Which one of you is Jessica Keller?”
“I am.”
“I’m sorry but we haven’t seen sight of your kids, but hearing your voice told us there were others out there, and then—” He turned around. “— We met up with all these folks on the way here.” He rubbed a hand over his stubbly chin. “Didn’t think there were people still alive.”
“We brought supplies,” said an elderly woman walking forward from the motorhome.
Others in the crowd mirrored the sentiment.
Jess walked forward. “Has anyone here seen two kids with an adult? They would have been south and east of here, making their way northwest from Collier.”
Shaking of heads accompanied negative words.
Vance looked at the robust walls of the school. “Looks like a good place to defend.” He looked to the darkness of the surrounding fields. “Got good line of sight.”
“Park in the lot,” said Sheryl to him. Then repeated the request to everyone else, who started getting back in their vehicles, engines firing up. She turned to Jess but the younger woman was already walking away.
*****
7: 56 p.m. Highway 70.
Churned frost-covered mud and grass fields peeked from the edge of the headlight beams. The two-lane road itself was powdery white, the ice flakes from above fewer in number. Not much conversation had passed between the two men in the old car, both lost to their thoughts.
A sign flashed past just visible through the windshield wipers, mentioning a truck-stop.
“Maybe we should stop and fill up with gas,” said Arlo.
Landon leaned over, looking at the fuel gauge. “Keep going. We got enough.”
Arlo frowned. He had spent the previous hour trying to think of a way to convince the man to his right of how they were on a suicide mission.
“Luck…” He whispered to himself. Fate had shined on them for the past few days, but how long would it last? Sam and Lachlan were probably out of reach, and no amount of wishful thinking was going to allow him and a distraught father to catch up. And that’s if either group didn’t run into the thing’s, which was likely to happen at some point. And then there was the boy, Tye, who changed even though he was meant to be immune. It had been playing on Arlo’s mind from the moment he learned of the youngster’s demise. Each time he had to cough or felt an itch he would check his hands and arms, looking for pigment change, or a bulge that shouldn’t be there. He had always been averse to the idea of germs. It was part of the reason he lived in his van. An environment he could control. His own private bubble. But here he was driving back the way they had been, towards Kansas City, and then if the insanity continued, further, all the way west to Denver. He wasn’t sure he could do it. Maybe it would be better if Landon traveled on alone. What help could he really provide?
“There’s a small town coming up,” said Landon, looking down at his map, flashlight in one hand. “Drive through it. Keep up a good speed.”
“Okay…”
Another snow covered sign came into view, welcoming them to the town of ‘Hatonville, population 2412.’
Flat rectangular roofs appeared on the horizon, their reflective surfaces being lit from the oncoming car.
“Here,” said Landon, nonchalantly. “The station on the right. Stop there.”
Arlo slowed the heavy car and drove onto the lot, stopping near a pump. Ahead was a large green advertising boarding.
‘Hatonville station. Fine family dining!’
A modest sized brick built building sat just behind it.
Arlo reached for his door handle.
“No. I’ll do it,” said Landon. “Keep an eye on these surroundi
ng buildings.”
The older man nodded as Landon got out, closing the door quickly. As the fuel started to flow, Arlo looked out into the darkness, first at the structures nearby, then further trying to make out anything in the void. Landon walked to the driver’s side then pointed towards the store. Arlo nodded again, watching him walk into the darkness.
He sighed. “What the fuck am I going to do… He’s crazy. This whole journey is crazy… I’m going to die… he’s going to get us both killed… Let the kid go. Let her find her mom. But we… I… I can’t do this… I need…”
He wasn’t sure what he needed. His mind was one of anxiety and panic. But equally he knew he couldn’t say any of these thoughts to Landon. He also didn’t want to be dumped in the middle of nowhere. Instinctively he reached for the old nobs in the center of dashboard and turned one. Static came from speakers built into the doors. “Ha… lets see if we can find some good old country music to make this trip any less ridiculous.” His fingers slid to the next nob, turning that as well. The white noise continued without even a blip. He frowned, wishing the car was new enough to have a CD player. Hell, he would settle for an old fashioned cassette player. “So, nope, no music.” He leaned forward again, his fingers turning the first nob again.
“Keller,” came from the speaker just before the nob clicked and the sound died.
He froze, his hand still on the radio then quickly turned it back on, leaning closer to the door. A white hiss came from the speaker again. “I know I heard you,” he said to himself. “Come on… Keller…”
The door opened, making him jump.
Landon got in with a satchel full of candy and soda’s. “Got you…” He placed the bag on the back seat and closed the door. “What are you—”
“For my children Sam and Josh and my…” Static interrupted the message before it continued. “Are you out there? Can you hear this? I’m… radio… in Rockston. Sam… you hear this… a school… Rockston… a hill, it’s called… Heaver… I am Jessica Keller… looking for…”
They both looked at each other, open-mouthed.
“I don’t… understand...” said Arlo.
A tear ran down Landon’s face. He covered his mouth as more tears followed. “Jess… I love you… I knew you were alive… I knew…” Arlo placed an awkward hand on his passenger’s shoulder, whose crying turned into a snorting laugh. “Yes!!” cried out Landon hitting the ceiling with his good hand as the message continued looping. He shook his head again. “I can’t believe it…” He looked at Arlo. “She was just a few miles away, all this time?” His eyes widened. “Sam!” He sat back in his seat. “Fuck…”
“What do we do?” said Arlo hoping they were about to turn around and go back.
Landon reached beneath the seat and picked up the hand radio, clicking the transmit button. “Meg? Can you hear me? Meg? Over.” Static came from the speaker.
“We might be to—”
“You’re faint,” said Meg interrupting Arlo. “But I can hear you, Landon. Go ahead. Over.”
“Have you got a radio? Not a handset, but an actual radio? Tune it too frequency ninety-two, point eight! Over.”
“You want us to listen to the radio? Over.”
“Yes! Ninety-two, point eight! Over.”
“Okay, okay. Hold on. Over…”
“Maybe we should think about… I mean, it’s a long way to—”
“Jess!” shouted Meg from Landon’s radio. “She’s here? Local? Err… Over.”
“Yes, ask Rufus if he knows the school’s location. Over.”
“Okay… I don’t believe it… hold there. Wait, I’ll be right back. Over.”
Arlo reached in the back grabbing a bottle of soda which he started drinking from. Jess’s message kept playing although at a lower volume. He wanted out. Out of the car. Out of going west. His eyes drifted across the lot then the nearby road to any vehicles abandoned in the darkness.
“Landon?” said Rufus.
“Still here. Over.”
“I know the school. It’s maybe eight miles, north of here. Are you returning? Over.”
The old pastor wasn’t the only one waiting for an answer. Arlo tried not to look at Landon who was breathing heavily, looking down.
Landon held the radio back to his mouth. “No. I have to find my daughter. We’re heading west. Please, when you find my wife. Don’t tell her Sam ran off. Tell her we’re just scouting the area and will be back soon. Just, promise me, you’ll stop her from following me. Over.”
There was a pause on the other end. “We’ll do our best, Landon. Over,” said Meg. “Umm, Landon?”
“Yeah?”
“We can’t find Joan. We think she went with Lachlan and Sam… Over.”
Both men looked confused. “Why would she go with them?” said Landon.
“Maybe she wanted to keep them safe. She’s former military, after all. She took a radio with her as well. Maybe you can reach her? Over.”
“Thanks. I’ll try. Tell Jess, I love her and I’ll be back soon. Over.”
“Will do. Over.”
He looked at the driver. “Let’s go. I’ll keep trying them on the radio.”
Arlo nodded, resealing his bottle then turned the key in the ignition.
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
8: 27 p.m. Highway 70.
Sam wondered how many snowflakes there were falling through the sky as she looked up, out of the side window.
Mom would know. Why couldn’t I get her gift for maths? I hate maths.
A particularly ornate ice flake landed just inches from her face, and promptly melted on the heated glass.
Everything dies…
Exhaustion came in waves and now she was warm, she was happy to let it take her. She looked at the woman driving before closing her eyes. Joan knew her shit, that much was obvious. The older woman had spent the past hour talking about her time overseas. Adventures in exotic locations. She sounded like super spy. They were lucky she found them.
The wipers rhythmically beat across the windshield…
“I need the restroom,” said Lachlan from the backseat.
Sam kept her eyes closed.
“How bad?” said Joan.
“Bad.”
Sam heard her sigh. “Well, if I pull over—”
“It’s not that kind of break I need. Need a stall.”
“Okay, fine. The next exit takes us to a rest stop. What about you? You need to go as well?”
Sam’s heavy eyes opened slowly. Joan was glancing at her. “Umm, yeah I guess. Might be a good idea.”
They changed lanes and drove up a slope, then took a left back over the highway and slowed. A few semi-trucks sat in a parking lot, opposite a gas station. A larger building with a triangular roof was further back. Joan drove the SUV near a pump.
“Might as well fill up again,” she said. “I’ll leave it running.” She turned to the teen in the back. “Get me some chips… umm… barbecue.” She then pushed the door open and got out into the swirling snowstorm, quickly pulling the fuel nozzle free.
Sam looked into the shadows of the station. Maybe she didn’t need to go after all. She leaned back, closing her eyes again.
“I thought you wanted to go,” said Lachlan.
“Nah. Get me some chips too.”
She heard the rear seat creak. “Come with me… umm… I’m scared.” His voice was louder, closer.
She almost let out a chuckle, but instead opened her eyes, expecting his face to contain a smile, but instead it was deadly serious. “You’re scared?”
“Well, yeah! There could be monsters!”
She sighed, turning away. “Fine.” She pushed the door open, quickly getting out. He doing the same and both ran across the forecourt, pausing before the glass door to look inside, then pushed it open. Despite the glow from the headlights providing hardly any light, they moved past the aisles, holding for a few seconds to listen beyond the door to the restroom, then Sam pushed it open, moving inside, Lachl
an following. The darkness was absolute and he bumped into her in his rush to close the door behind them.
“Hey watch it!” she said.
“We need to talk.” He switched on a small flashlight, then leaned up against the basins.
Sam pushed open a door to a stall, closing and locking it behind her then sat, using the facilities. “What about?”
“Joan, is like us!”
Sam was tired. There was no space in her mind for games or puzzles. She grabbed a piece of toilet tissue. “What do you mean, like us?”
“She’s been through the change!”
Sam scrunched her face, while standing and pulling the handle to flush. She pulled the door open and walked to the basin, turning a faucet. “She’s not been through the change. What are you talking about? I would know. Her heart would… sound different. And…” She sniffed her armpit. “I’m sure we smell different as well.”
He moved closer to her, making her lean back a little. “I saw it. I saw her hand… it kind of like… morphed… like in a movie or something. I swear to you.”
Sam sighed, pulling some paper towels out of the container and drying her hands. “Everyone is stressed out. You didn’t see…” He went to speak again, but she held up her hand. The scraping sound repeated, this time louder.
“What is that?” said Lachlan.
She moved closer to the small slither of a glass window at the back wall and listened again. A rasping, sliding noise came through the open gap a foot above her, together with cold putrid smelling air.
Sam turned while pointing at the wall. She then gestured towards the exit and both tiptoed across the tiled floor, pulling open the door then froze when it squeaked. A thud came from the back wall, together with a growl and another thud, this one causing something to fall and crash.
“We gotta go,” said Sam. They ran through the station, bundling the front door open, while falling through it and sprinted past the pumps, jumping back into their seats in the car.
“No, chips?” said Joan, disappointingly.
