“You’ve got me.”
“Well, someone better come up with something, and quick. I caught Lauren Richards looking through my purse this morning. It turns out she was looking for the keys to the Volvo. Why she though I had them, I have no idea, but she wanted to drive up to Maine and look for her husband.”
“Did you tell her it was a bad idea?”
She snorted. “Of course I did. But everyone’s scared. I’m scared. It’s not doing anyone any good just sitting around stewing in this shit.”
“Well,” said Josh, “why don’t we just tell everyone to sit tight? The Army guys might get back in a day or two. They’ll know what to do.”
“You really think they’re coming back?”
He shook his head. “Not really. I just want my life back. I want Mr. C back. I want my family back.” Pressure built up behind his eyes and his nose began to drip. “Nope, not going there. Not now. I’m just saying that I don’t know what to do. I’m no good at this shit. I wish Colin were here. He’s the idea guy. He’d figure something out.”
Kyra’s face lit up and she slapped the floor with an open palm.
“Ho-ly shit,” she muttered.
“What?”
“I’m so sorry, Josh. I totally forgot.”
“Forgot what?”
“About Colin. I saw him few days ago. Wow, it seems like longer than that.”
“Where was he?”
“Here. Looking for you. He said something about doing ‘the long run’. He said you’d know what it meant.”
Josh covered his face with his hand. “Oh, Jesus. Of course. The farm.”
“You think they’re still there?”
“I don’t know.” His face flushed with blood as his excitement grew. He thought of all those days of his youth that were spent in the woods surrounding Grampa O’Connor’s farm. The summers especially were flooding with good times, drinking and smoking pot by the campfire, playing capture-the-flag with their tight-knit clique of high school friends, bringing the occasional girl out to impress her with his knowledge of birds and perhaps getting to squeeze a boob or two. These experiences seemed to take place in another time, another life. He wished he could travel back there whenever he wanted to.
“We’ve talked about The Long Run for years,” he said, his voice distant and reflective. “It’s been an idea of ours since we were kids—our emergency plan. Bobby named it. When shit hit the fan, we’d make a mad dash for his grandfather’s farm and camp in the hills behind the tobacco fields.” He shook his head. “It’s been years since I thought of this, Kye. I’d almost forgotten, but not Colin. See, I told you he’s always thinking one step ahead.”
“So what’s the plan?” Kyra asked.
Josh grinned. He knew the others wouldn’t agree with them leaving, but it wouldn’t hurt anyone if they snuck out the back door. They were the ones with the only working car, after all.
“Let’s chance it,” he said.
* * *
The O’Connor farm resided in the neighboring town of Somersworth, only a couple miles from the church. Josh steered the Volvo down the pothole-littered dirt road, Kyra by his side. He took time to watch out for unwanted visitors and admire the landscape. It amazed him how nature interjected its inherent beauty into the countryside even after devastation had laid ruin to everything else.
The afternoon sun cast brilliant reflections off the fields’ rich, dark soil. Huge trees, some of the oldest and largest in all New England, formed a protective awning over the road. The fallen autumn leaves, colored with their muted reds and somber yellows, produced a canvas of natural pigments that stretched out before them.
They slowed to a crawl when the final turn approached. The mailbox appeared—a hand-built rectangular box with a pair of cardinals painted on its side. Josh pulled into the driveway and the manor emerged from behind a blockade of mammoth elm trees. It was a Victorian farmhouse, wood paneling cracked and peeling due to decades of harsh and inconsistent weather.
Home again, home again, he thought.
He pulled alongside the house, parked a few feet away from the front porch, and stepped out of the vehicle. Kyra did likewise, bundling up in her jacket when a crisp gust of wind rattled the trees. Josh stared at the house and then walked away, heading for the meadow that lay behind the fenced-in back yard and gesturing for Kyra to follow.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
Josh pointed as he walked. “There should be a path at the edge of the trees over there. I haven’t been here in years, though. It might’ve grown over with weeds since then, so it could take some searching.”
“Why don’t we check the house first?”
“Because,” he said with a smirk, “I know my friend.”
They walked the tree line bordering the meadow. While they searched, they pushed aside the undergrowth that spilled over into the grassy knoll. The vegetation was unusually thick given the time of year. Even with intense sunlight bearing down on them the forest, with its impenetrable canopy, was dark.
A few minutes later Josh found what he hoped was the right place: an area of flattened vines, trampled saplings, and snapped branches. He wedged his body between a pair of evergreens and looked around. He’d been right. A muddy trail, impressed with fresh footprints, led deep into the woods.
“I found it,” he said.
Kyra hurried over to him and Josh took her hand. She squeezed his fingers, her grasp sending a chill of excitement through him. He grinned and proceeded to steer her down the path.
“Are you sure you know where you’re going?” she asked.
“Pretty much.”
They hiked for what seemed like an hour, maybe more. Halfway through the journey they passed an old ditch created by a tree that had fallen during an odd New England hurricane—a gully Josh, Colin, and Bobby had used as a fort during their childhood war games. The deep cavern was still roofed by the hollow trunk of the long-dead maple tree. Josh ventured inside, but it was empty. He climbed back out, cupped his hands around his mouth, and called out Bobby and Colin’s names. His voice echoed through the emptiness while Kyra shifted from foot to foot by his side. There was no reply.
Before long, they made their way down a steep embankment. Josh tripped on a root and lost his balance and Kyra saved him from the embarrassment of a headfirst tumble by jacking her arm beneath his elbow. He slid a few feet, dragging her along in the process, but managed to stay upright.
“Thanks,” he said, and smiled. Her strength amazed him, given her diminutive build.
More time passed, the sun progressing across the late autumn sky, and still they found nothing. Josh found a dry stump, brushed off the pine needles, and sat down.
“We’re getting nowhere,” he muttered.
Kyra placed a reassuring hand on his back. “Come on, Josh. It’s getting late. We should head back. Maybe they decided to stay at the house, after all.”
He shook his head. “No. They wouldn’t do that. They’d want to get as far away from town as possible.” He glanced down the path, which had grown thin. Trees squeezed in on either side. It looked more like the notion of a trail.
“We have to go deeper.”
It was five hundred feet farther in, when the invading branches slowed their progress to a virtual crawl, that he saw it—a brush of vivid blue among the sea of pastel browns and yellows. “We’re here!” shouted Josh, giving Kyra a delighted grin.
Hand in hand they ran to the campsite, which consisted of Colin’s old pup tent, erected in the center of a swept clearing. Damp cigarette butts, aluminum cans, and empty beer bottles were strewn around the fire pit. Josh zipped open the tent flap and peeked inside. A sleeping bag, surrounded by empty candy wrappers and about fifteen used-up packs of smokes, were all that he saw. He withdrew from the tent, meandered to the fire pit, and placed his hand above it.
“It’s still warm,” he said.
Josh stood up. Come on, guys, he thought, you’ve got to be here somew
here. He strained to see through the cascade of shadows the sparse daylight provided. A quake of self-doubt filtered into his optimism. You’re too late, it said. Just like with Sophia. Just like with your parents. Just like with Marcy. You haven’t been able to save anyone you love, so why would this be any different?
His thoughts skipped a beat with the inclusion of Marcy’s name. He hadn’t thought of her since the night of the cat incident. For a moment he forgot what he was doing.
“Hold on,” said Kyra, and he snapped back to attention. She stared off in the distance, her eyes squinting. Her nose scrunched up as if she smelled something foul and Josh followed her gaze.
“Do you hear that?” she asked.
“I don’t hear anything,” he whispered. “Why, did you?”
“Yeah.”
“What was it?”
“A yelp. Or something like that.”
He concentrated harder, but he could make out nothing but the wind as it hissed through the trees. “I’m sorry,” he said, “but I don’t hear a—”
That’s when it happened. A muted yowl, like the distant scream of a cat in heat, came from his left. He stepped back and glanced in the direction of another path he had previously missed, this one cut like a jagged vein through the foliage. Then the cat-scream came again, louder this time. Josh’s heart beat like a hummingbird’s. He ground his teeth together and squeezed Kyra’s hand.
“That way,” she said.
“That way,” he agreed.
They ran down the new trail, the branches and vines threatening to slow their progress snapped and broken by their forward momentum. The route led up a steep, moss-covered incline. Josh huffed and puffed as he scaled the hill on all fours, clawing in desperation for the crown. Kyra reached the top first, ascending the rise with ease, her hands and feet digging into the soil and lifting her body up as if it were second nature. The yelp, which was sounding every few seconds now, came again. Josh ignored it and took a moment to catch his breath before continuing his climb. Kyra stared down at him from her position at the top of the rise. She had been peering in the other direction only a moment before, a look of dread on her face, her teeth clenched and eyes darting. That look told him they didn’t have much time.
Josh pulled his shoulders up and over the ridge. There was a small, flat surface only ten or so feet wide up there that quickly sloped down the other side. Beyond the decline was a vast open space, and he immediately recognized where they were. It was the Stepnoski Brothers’ turf field, left uncultivated in spite of the coming winter season, an ocean of lime-colored grass that expanded before his eyes.
Below them, fifty feet from the tree line, he spotted a great many people engaged in a flurry of activity. He remained flat on his stomach and stared at them. The people danced in a circle, in perfect rhythm with one another. Their flesh was brown and rutted, and Josh found their movements both compelling and frightening due to the single-minded aggression they displayed. He was reminded again of his drive down Main Street on the day he raced against time to save a doomed Sophia from the schoolhouse. These beasts dancing down below were just as primitive and horrific as the ones he’s seen that day, but their stretched flesh and elongated teeth made them a hundred times more terrifying.
The understanding came to him that these were the creatures the General had talked about. ‘The plague of humanity’, he’d called them. Along with that knowledge, another, even darker revelation came forward: If this was what awaited the Dover/Newmarket Militia, there was no chance in hell anyone would ever see those folks again.
Kyra tapped him on the arm. She looked so frightened while she mouthed ‘look’ and pointed at the scene. He rose up on his hands to get a better angle and a face he recognized emerged from the center of the circle. It was Colin. The beasts were playing a sadistic game of bull-in-the-ring with him. Colin held a shovel and spun around while he shrieked at them to back away. He thrust the shovel at any that stepped forward. His blond hair, a bit too long and matted with grime, whipped around.
Josh jumped to his feet without thinking and slid down the other side of the mud-packed hill. His panicked mind threw caution to the wind. His only thoughts were gotta get there quick, gotta get there now.
When his feet reached level ground he raced for the circle of monsters as fast as he could. He ignored Kyra’s whisper-like shouts, which reached his ears like music from a muffled stereo.
He skidded to a stop a few yards from the swarm, his feet slipping on the wet grass. Pressure built up in his chest, flowing from his arms to his fingertips and from his neck to throat to cranium. The reservoir of anger couldn’t be held at bay. His muscles tensed, he threw his shoulders back, and the tendons in his neck stretched as he screamed with every ounce of power built up within him.
“FUCK! STOP!”
The creatures ceased their frantic tango and turned in his direction. Josh backed up a step, realizing how silly he’d been to approach a murderous horde without a plan, or, for that matter, an army. However, those who stared at him did not charge, instead standing still as if trapped in stone. Their faces drooped, with lips that hung to the flank and tongues that dangled like dead snakes.
Josh shuffled to the side to see if they would follow him. Their eyes did, but nothing else about them moved. He thought of Sophia, during those last moments while he cleaned his parents’ blood from her face in the kitchen. She had reacted in much the same way at first. He breathed out a dejected sigh at the thought of her, but forced himself to stop stalling. He knew he had to take advantage of the beasts’ bizarre stillness before they snapped out of it.
“Colin,” he said. His voice was little more than a hoarse whisper.
Colin poked his head around one of his frozen attackers, staring at Josh in wide-eyed disbelief. Josh gestured for his friend to come forward and Colin obeyed, placing the shovel on the ground and turning his body sideways to slip between a pair of the hideous creatures without touching them.
Josh held his breath as Colin squeezed through the mass of twisted flesh. The scared young man then inched forward, step by agonizing step, on shaking legs. Tears ran down his cheeks in torrents.
“Oh my God, oh my God,” he kept repeating.
“Come on,” said Josh, snatching his friend’s hand. They slowly turned and tiptoed for the muddy hillock, where Kyra awaited at the peak, her lips drawn back and appearing tense. Josh felt that way as well, and he moved all the faster.
Howls filled the air, and Josh didn’t bother turning around to see what the commotion was all about. He squeezed Colin’s hand and started to run, yanking his friend behind him, darting for the rise.
“Hurry up!” Kyra screeched. They reached the muddy slope and began to scale it. Hand over hand, he dug his fingers into the slop. Halfway up, Josh feared that Colin would slip and fall into the ravenous hands that were sure to await them at the bottom. This fear only lasted a second, for Colin righted his posture and pushed his lean physique onward with a grace Josh couldn’t match. Before long his friend had passed him, heaving over the bank with his arms and legs flailing.
Josh took a deep breath and lunged forward, reaching for Kyra’s outstretched hand. She caught it and braced her feet shoulder width apart. With her assistance, he slipped over the embankment and tumbled onto the grass. He rolled to a stop, closed his eyes, and lay still for a moment, panting. His body hurt. He felt dizzy.
The sound of laughter brought him back around. He sat up to see Colin, who stood next to Kyra a few feet away, bend over at the waist and guffaw while tears still streamed down his cheeks. Kyra had her hand on his back. She glanced in Josh’s direction and shrugged.
Josh rose to his feet and staggered over to them. “What’s going on?” he asked.
“I…that was…holy shit…fucking hell, man,” Colin gasped between fits of laughter.
Josh peeked over the knoll. The creatures—Wraiths, as the surely departed General Stack had called them—were gathered at the bottom of the hill. They
appeared to have difficulty scaling the mucky slope, falling over each other like a pack of newly born calves. This sight offered him no relief, however. Something inside him said it wouldn’t be long before they figured it out.
He nudged Kyra’s arm and nodded in the direction of the path they’d taken to get there. “Go,” he said. She didn’t need any more urging than that. He then seized Colin by both of his ears and forced him out of his crouch.
“Get up,” he ordered. “We’ve gotta get out of here. Like, right now.”
Colin complied, jogging beside his friend. “Where…are we gonna go?” he blurted out.
Before Josh could answer Kyra appeared from around the corner. “Not that way!” she yelled. “Someone’s coming up the trail!”
Josh stopped in his tracks.
“Fuck,” muttered Colin.
Josh pulled his own hair. “Shit! Come on, think, dammit!’
Colin slapped him on the back. “Hey, I got an idea,” he said. He stepped over a thorn bush at the edge of the path and looked as if he was trying to peer through the densely-packed trees. When he turned back to face Josh his eyes were wide, a huge smirk plastered on his lips. His expression was filled with mischievous vigor.
He pointed through the jungle of foliage. “Old Man McKinley’s place is right over there,” said Colin. “I bet you he’s got a friggin’ arsenal in the basement. It shouldn’t take too long to get there if we run for it.” He winked at Josh. “Of course, that means you’re gonna have to light a fire under that fat ass of yours, bro.”
Josh looked at Kyra, smiled, and then brought his gaze back to his friend. “This is it,” he said. “The Long Run.”
“The first and hopefully the last,” replied Colin, and without another word, the three of them took off.
CHAPTER 21
THE COMING STORM
ON THE TELEVISION SET, a man screamed, “Say ’ello, to my lil’ friend!” This was followed by an explosion as the double doors in front of him blew outward. People dashed through the building, dressed in strange clothes that appeared too small for their bodies. They fired weapons at the lone hero, who ran onto the balcony and yelled at the top of his lungs. This man killed any and all who crossed his path until a salvo of bullets brought him to a slow and drawn-out demise.