“You guys packed and ready?” I ask.
Corrine shrugs and looks at the fire, biting her lip to stop its trembling. Hank looks up from whittling his new marshmallow stick and gives me a serious smile.
“I’m ready. You?”
I smile. “As ready as I’ll ever be. But I thought that you guys might need something to help you out in the woods, so I want give you these.”
I hold out the wilderness survival book and the bow drill set.
Hank’s eyes gleam and he takes the pouch with reverence. “Really? We can have this?”
“No, Hank,” Corrine says. She takes it from him and holds it out to me. “We can’t take it. Her dad gave it to her, it’s special.”
“That’s why I’m giving it to you. It’s special, yeah, but so are you guys. I want you to have it. There’s another set at the house, along with lots of lighters and matches. You may need it, so it belongs with you. And the book, too. I’ll be totally offended if you don’t take them.”
Corrine laughs at my pout and takes the book before she leans forward and hugs me. “I wish we were going with you,” she whispers.
I hug her tight. “Me too, honey.”
CHAPTER 39
The hamburgers hold absolutely no resemblance to Alpo, much to my delight. Peter, now answering me with grunts and monosyllables instead of icy stares, rouses himself enough to thank Dorothy. Jordan and Brian appear at the edge of the firelight. They’ve spent the last few hours in the car, and we’ve spent the last few hours trying not to be nosy.
Brian looks repentant. “Hey, you guys. I’m really sorry about earlier. And I was way out of line and apologized to Jordan, just so you know. I don’t want you guys to think I’m a dick or anything, I’m not. Well, most of the time, anyway.”
He smiles tentatively and gives Jordan’s hand a squeeze.
Jordan squeezes back. “He’s not. It’s been hard. Just…horrible.”
Penny gestures at an empty spot on the blankets. We offer them burgers, and they eat a little. Dottie tells us a few stories about growing up in the Caribbean, and Penny talks about living in Puerto Rico. I wonder if the islands have fared any better than the mainland. I’m thinking dreamily of warm sun and fresh mangoes and no infected when James clears his throat.
“I know we’re trying to keep it light, but I was doing some calculations today and it looks pretty bad. Okay, today is Monday. This all started, as far as we know, on Friday. On Saturday they took out the bridges, and by then there was something like fifteen percent infected. That means that it took a day for the virus to spread that rapidly. The Midwestern states were already somewhere around sixty percent then, and I’ll bet they’re somewhere up around eighty or so now.
“Worst case scenario, in cities and big towns we’re going to see sixty percent starting tomorrow. The smaller towns and rural places have a bit more time. From what Brian said, most people are stuck in traffic jams. That doesn’t mean they’re going to give up, but they’ll have to walk to reach those places. And at least some infected-but-still-alive will make it there, too. And then they’ll turn.
“The infection will be everywhere eventually. I think it’ll hover at eighty percent for a while, as those people who’ve found safe places or have provisions hold out. But, depending on how long the infected live, the majority of people will have to leave their homes at some point for food or water. And that’s when they’ll get infected. Our best chance is what we’re doing: going somewhere remote and hunkering down until this blows over.”
Ana and Peter’s faces are closed, and when he finishes they murmur something to each other. I don’t think they believe him.
“When will it blow over, do you think?” Jordan asks, her face eager.
James’s face, which has been animated as he speaks, falls. “That’s the thing. No one knows. Maybe they won’t die until they decompose. Maybe they won’t rot as fast as, well, any meat would. It sounds impossible, but so does everything else. So I’m counting on it and planning to be pleasantly surprised if I’m wrong.”
Something passes between Brian and Jordan. She gives him a small nod and rests her head on his shoulder as he strokes her hair.
“What are your plans?” I ask them.
“We’re heading out tomorrow, too,” Brian says into the fire. “Maybe find our parents. We plan on being gone before you guys, while it’s still dark.”
Jordan twists her engagement ring around and around on her finger, and he puts a gentle hand over hers to stop it. “It’ll be okay. We’ll be together, right?”
She smiles tearfully and nods. I wonder how he can be so calm, so sure. If he, who saw half his family eaten in front of him, thinks it will be okay, then maybe it will be.
The fire dies down. I’m in no rush to start tomorrow, but when Henry yawns and says they’d better get to bed, we all stand.
“Thanks, everyone,” Jordan says in a quiet voice. “Thank you for sharing with us. It gives me hope that maybe everything good isn’t completely gone, if people like you guys are here.” It’s the most she’s said all night.
“And you too,” Penny says. “Don’t forget, you made it up here.”
Jordan smiles, but the sadness in her eyes is back. “Yeah. We’ll be okay.”
CHAPTER 40
It’s mostly dark when I feel someone shake my shoulder. Penny leaves the lantern behind after she’s sure I’m awake. I roll up the sleeping bag and listen to the rustle of nylon and zipping of zippers outside the tent. I pick up any loose items and try to ignore the hollow feeling in the pit of my stomach. When I emerge from the tent it’s a few shades lighter. Wisps of mist hang in the air, and I can just make out Brian and Jordan’s car parked in their campsite. I guess they’re still sleeping.
The remaining food sits on the table to be divvied up. After brushing my teeth I head over to where Nelly and Henry stand and stare at the five remaining cases of MREs.
“No one wants them, huh?” I joke, and they laugh.
Nelly turns to Henry. “Are you sure you won’t reconsider coming along with us?”
Henry sighs. “You don’t know how badly I want to. But we’ve decided to give the family a month, and then we’ll make our way to you. If that’s still okay?”
“Of course it is,” I say. “If for some reason we’re not there, look for a path to the left of the house. There’s an old maple tree with what’s left of a tree house, not too far in. It’s the Message Tree. In a hole in the trunk there’s a coffee can. I’ll leave where we’ve gone in there.”
Henry nods. “Got it. Now…”
He looks at the table. Nelly, who’s always on the same page as me, takes one case of MREs and pushes the others toward Henry. The sky is bright enough now to see his eyes open in surprise.
“No, man,” he protests. “I can’t take all this. What will you guys do?”
“Henry, we’re heading to where we know we’ll have plenty of food,” I say. “We don’t have two kids to drag around. This won’t even keep you going for that long, so please don’t argue.” I hold out a revolver. “And don’t argue with this, either. I’ll give you boxes of ammo for it, too.”
“I don’t know what to say,” he says, his relief warring with his reluctance. “Guns aren’t something to just give away right about now. I…but I can’t say no to that. Thank you.”
“I’m not giving it to you,” I say. I raise an eyebrow and look into his kind face with a small smile. “It’s a loan. You have to return it, that’s the catch. I’ll be expecting it in a couple of months.”
Henry’s cheeks crack into a smile for a second, then his face reverts to its usual serious expression as he hugs me. “I’ll get it back to you. I know it’s only been a couple days, but—” He stops and thumps Nelly on the back.
“Hey,” James says, as he pulls down the second tent, “their car is still here. I thought Brian said they were leaving early.”
Suddenly, I think I know why Brian and Jordan seemed so peaceful last nig
ht. I can feel something coming from the car. More like the absence of something.
“Henry, keep the kids away,” I say.
I walk toward the car, heart pounding with trepidation. At first I think I’m wrong, that they’re just sleeping in the backseat. Brian’s got his back against the door and his legs run the length of the seat. Jordan’s snuggled on his lap, and his head rests on hers, like he was taking a last, deep sniff of her shampoo. His arms, which were probably wrapped around her, now rest limply on either side.
I steel myself and open the door, just to make sure they aren’t still alive. I hear footsteps behind me. The others stand there, frozen, until Dottie leans in and feels their wrists.
She shakes her head. “Maybe pills. I don’t know.”
“Should…should we bury them?” Penny asks.
I’m glad to see I’m not the only one who shakes her head, even though I feel callous when I do it.
“We need to go,” Henry says.
“Maybe a prayer,” Dottie says. “Jordan wore a small gold cross. I saw it last night.”
“Of course,” he says. He begins to recite the Lord’s Prayer.
CHAPTER 41
Henry closes the trunk and makes sure the twine holding the boxes to the roof is tight. He takes a deep breath.
“So,” he says. “I guess this is goodbye.”
Hank and Corrine look out the car windows with what they must think are brave faces. But they look scared, with hollows under their huge eyes.
“No,” I say. “It’s see you soon.”
His eyes are warm as he gives a brisk nod and gets in the car. We’re following them out to the base of the campground. I ride shotgun while Nelly drives. Right now the ability to shoot a gun accurately trumps the fact that you get a little squished in the back, so Peter and James sit with Ana and Penny. No one sits behind the cage; no one wants to be trapped back there. At the fork in the road we pull alongside their car.
Dottie rolls down her window and gives us a bright smile. “Take care of yourselves.”
“You too,” Nelly says. “See you soon.”
We drive in silence. The ranger booth at the bridge is unmanned. The parking lot outside the welcome center has a few cars in it, but otherwise it’s empty.
“We need gas, right?” Peter speaks up. “Why don’t we siphon some out of these cars? It doesn’t seem like we’re going to get gas at a station.”
Nelly pulls into the lot. I wish we’d thought to have Henry fill up here. I hope they don’t have to stop anywhere too dangerous. James and Peter get to work prying open the gas tank covers while Nelly makes sure nothing lurks around the building. Penny and I walk to the road and watch the muddy Hudson River race under the bridge.
“What’s that ahead?” Penny asks, after a while.
A figure limps across the roadway at the far end of the bridge. I rest a hand on my holster. At the rate it’s going it’ll be ten minutes before it reaches us, but panic wells up just the same.
Penny’s voice is strangled. “Um, guys? One’s coming our way.”
Two more Lexers come into view and follow the first.
“Make that three,” I say. I pull my pistol out. They’re too far to risk a shot, but I want to be ready.
“We’re good,” James says. “Let’s get out of here.”
Nelly turns onto the bridge and drives on the left side of the road, as far away as he can get from the infected. They watch us go past and reverse direction to follow.
At the other end James points at a few Lexers stumbling their way to the bridge. “They must be coming from Peekskill, about five miles south. Good thing we’re going north.”
CHAPTER 42
We have about one hundred-sixty miles of backtracking on winding roads to traverse before we near the house. We’ll be lucky if we get there in five hours. As we start down the first of our dirt roads, I sigh. Nelly glances at me.
“Brian and Jordan,” I explain. “Why did they do it? Wouldn’t you want to be sure all was lost before you offed yourself?”
“Of course I would want to go down fighting. But not everyone’s as strong us, Cass,” he says.
I think Nelly’s made a mistake by lumping us together. He doesn’t take shit from anyone. I can’t even break up with someone without taking three months to build up the nerve. But I can’t bring that up with Peter here, even if the endless stream of Safe Zone locations on the radio might drown it out.
“How about after my parents died?” I argue. “I went crackers after that. I wasn’t exactly a pillar of strength.”
“Okay, but how could you not go a little crackers, darlin’? Besides, everyone’s entitled to one crack-up in their life.”
“Yeah? Are you going to have yours anytime soon?”
“Already did, the summer before senior year, when I came out. It was either tell my family who I really was or die. And I mean really die, I wanted to die. I was ready to be ostracized, as long as I could stop pretending.
“One night I was in bed and I couldn’t stop thinking about my dad’s guns downstairs. How easy it would be to curl up with one and pull the trigger.”
He watches the road calmly, but his hands tighten on the steering wheel. He’s never told me about the gun.
“I didn’t know you were that bad.” I want to cry for the kid who contemplated dying. I get a glimpse of how empty my life would be if I didn’t have Nelly and touch his hand.
“I was. But I also knew I could survive anything, as long as I didn’t pretend to be something I wasn’t. So I didn’t get the gun, and I told everyone. Anyway, previous crack-up notwithstanding, you are strong. You would never take the easy way out like that, because it wouldn’t be the easy way.”
It took me two years to admit I made a mistake with Adrian. I’m terrified of confrontation. For instance, I haven’t asked Ana why she’s pissed at me because I’m afraid it will open up a can of worms, and I like my cans shut tight.
I know that’s not exactly what he means. I used to be strong, before my world went up in smoke. It was one of the things I liked best about myself, and I hate how weak I’ve become. I’ve spent the past years just surviving, and I hardly deserve a merit badge for that.
I cross my arms and look out the window at the budding trees. “Well, I don’t see anyone else in this car downing a bottle of pills, so why does that make me so special?”
Nelly sighs. “You could argue a cat out of its fur, you know that?”
I smile. “What’s that, another one of your Texan expressions?”
“Nah, I just made it up. You like?” he says and laughs when I roll my eyes.
He must believe what he’s saying. Well, he’s right about one thing: I’m not going down easily.
CHAPTER 43
Three hours later the radio still broadcasts the same-old, the New York State road atlas looks dog-eared and we’re only about halfway there.
“All right,” James, now in the passenger seat, says in a weary voice, “County Road seven thousand three hundred forty-two is the next left.”
Every road has a name like County Road 42 or Albany-Jingletown Post Road. They’re ridged and potholed, and our top speed is forty miles per hour. I’m thankful we haven’t hit any problems thus far, but it’s cramped with four people in the back seat, especially since no one, including me, smells very good. But we’re alive. I know it’s ridiculous to focus on the fact that my right butt cheek is numb when the world is ending.
I vacillate between a combination of worry-terror that makes my chest tighten and feeling bitchy about little things, like how stuffy the car is and how guys think sitting with three feet of empty space between their knees is a basic human right, even when three girls have their knees glued shut in the same row.
It’s a while before I realize that I’m not just grouchy. I don’t feel well. Every time we hit a curve I close my eyes to take away the sloshing in my stomach, but it makes it worse. I lean my head on the cool window glass.
Pen
ny turns to me. “What’s wrong?”
“I don’t know,” I say between bouts of nausea. “I feel like I’m going to throw up.”
“Nels, you’d better stop the car. Cass’s going to puke,” she says.
He pulls over on a wide shoulder. The cool air hits and my nausea recedes a little. I lean against the truck and close my eyes, glad the world has stopped its jolting. That’s when the stomach cramps hit.
“Pack.” I gasp, doubled over from the knife twisting in my intestines. They look at me blankly. “Toilet paper.”
Penny rushes to the back and grabs the roll. I stumble into the woods. When I return ten minutes later everyone stands outside the truck.
James suddenly stubs out his cigarette. “I kind of feel nauseous too.”
“Need the TP?” I ask weakly. “It was tons of fun out there. I wouldn’t want you to miss out.”
He gives me a wan smile and perches on the front seat, head hanging in his hands. My legs are shaky, and I plop down on the ground, breathing hard. The nausea creeps back.
“I haven’t felt right all day,” Peter says with a frown. “Did we eat something weird?”
“Everything was packaged,” Penny replies. “I guess it could have been something, though. We filtered all the water, so it’s not that.”
Ana and Peter exchange a quick look.
“What?” Penny demands. “What’s the matter?”
It dawns on her at the same time as I remember Penny giving them water duty a day ago. We even showed them how to use the filter properly. Ana looks at Penny meekly.
“You didn’t filter the water? Don’t even tell me you didn’t use the filter, Ana,” Penny says, her voice rising.
“We didn’t think it would be a big deal. The water looked clean. And it was taking so long,” Ana replies. She crosses her arms like she’s explained it to everyone’s satisfaction.
“That’s why they’re called microbes, Ana. They’re microscopic. And what else did you have to do that day? Shopping? I can’t believe you guys.”