Page 13 of Last Light


  Doug straightened. “No, that’s my job.”

  “Don’t be macho, Doug. You’re not doing anybody any good by depriving yourself of sleep. The fact that I’m a woman does not make me helpless.”

  “Yeah, Dad.”

  He turned and saw that Deni stood in the darkness at the bottom of the stairs. “I told you to go to bed!”

  “But I can help, Dad! I can stay up with her.”

  He didn’t know how much more he could take. He turned back to Kay. “I didn’t say you were helpless, Kay. I just feel that it’s my responsibility.”

  “It’s all our responsibility. I’m going to be fine. I’m wide awake now, anyway. Now go to bed.”

  Deni stepped back into the light. “I’ll keep her company, Dad. It’ll be fine.”

  “No,” Kay said. “I don’t want to talk to anybody right now, and you need your sleep, too, Deni. Just go to bed. I’m going to need you more than ever tomorrow. We have to get up early and get in line at Wal-Mart. Everyone needs to be at their best.”

  “But, Mom—”

  “Deni, enough!”

  Deni blew out a heavy breath, then muttered as she headed up the stairs.

  Kay looked at Doug. “So, are you going to go to bed?”

  He slumped down on the couch and slowly lay down. “I’m just gonna lie here for a minute and close my eyes. You can keep watch while I do that, but I’ll be close by if you need me.”

  She sighed. “All right, if you’ll sleep.” She left the room, then came back a few minutes later with a pillow. She slipped it under his head. Doug put his arm over his eyes and tried to do as she had said, but he couldn’t escape that feeling of failure. He wondered what he had done wrong to make his son rebel this way. And was it true that Deni had a history of sneaking out when she lived at home? Why would Jeff have said that?

  Despite his whirling questions, fatigue swept over him, fogging his thoughts until he finally surrendered and fell into a shallow sleep.

  Jeff went to his room, changed into some dry shorts, then climbed into his rumpled bed. His head was beginning to hurt, and nausea lurked at a distance, threatening to take him down.

  He’d disappointed his father and made his mother cry. But what was the big deal? It wasn’t like he’d gone out and looted someone’s house. All he’d done was drink a few lousy beers.

  And if he got right down to it, his father had disappointed him, too. He squeezed his eyes shut, mortified that his dad had pulled Mandy off of his lap and dismissed her, like she was some kind of tramp.

  He hated to think what she was thinking about him now. Would she even give him the time of day tomorrow? Somebody else was probably walking her home as he lay here in his bed, punished like a four-year-old.

  He thought of his mom downstairs, sitting with the gun in her lap, guarding the house that he should be protecting. Yeah, well . . . it was her own fault. He could have taken over. Just because he’d had a few stupid drinks didn’t mean he wasn’t able to guard their house.

  Fatigue pulled over him, and he turned on his side, giving in. Sleep. He needed sleep.

  He’d deal with his parents’ wrath tomorrow.

  twenty-two

  Kay kept herself awake by making a list of things they could get at Wal-Mart when it opened in the morning. As she did, thoughts of Jeff’s defiance raced through her mind. Where had they gone wrong? What could have sent him into such rebellion?

  She thought back on exact moments in her son’s history, when key choices had been made about punishments and consequences. That time he was in fifth grade and got caught smoking in the bathroom at school . . . She should have handled it differently. She should have come down harder on him, taking away his television and video games. But no, she’d just confined him to his room, where he had all his entertainment at his disposal.

  Last year he’d flunked a midterm. She should have grounded him through the Christmas holidays, instead of putting it off and giving him a chance to pull up his grade.

  Incident after incident ran through her mind, opportunities she’d had to discipline her son. Opportunities she’d let pass out of . . . what? Fatigue? Apathy?

  If she’d handled things better, maybe he would have thought twice before sneaking out tonight.

  The sound of a distant scream startled her, and she jumped up with the shotgun, and ran to the back door. She peered out the window, but couldn’t see where the sound was coming from.

  Another scream cut through the night. Trembling, she backed away from the door.

  A popping sound followed, like a gunshot or a firecracker, followed by more screams. “Doug!” she shouted.

  He sat upright on the couch. “What?”

  “I think I heard a gunshot, and a woman screaming!”

  He launched off the couch and took the gun from her hands, and opened the door to listen. The screams were escalating, and there was another shot.

  “Get the other gun and wait here,” he said. “I’m going to see what happened.”

  “Doug, be careful. Please!”

  Her trembling hands closed and locked the door behind him, and she watched out the window until he was out of sight. Then she ran for the other gun, and keeping it aimed at the door, she sat like a sentinel, waiting for her husband to come back.

  Doug followed the screams to a house on the neighboring street. People were coming out of their homes, racing toward the sound. He got to the yard and ran to the open front door. The soft glow of a lantern inside allowed him to see the other neighbors who had rushed over to help. A woman he’d never met sat inside, crying hysterically.

  He stepped inside. “What happened?”

  Brad, Doug’s neighbor, turned back to him. “She had an intruder.”

  “I heard gunshots,” Doug said.

  The woman was trembling as she tried to control her sobs. “I shot at him! But I couldn’t see him well in the dark, and I must have missed. He got away.”

  Doug stooped down in front of her. “Did you get a look at him at all?”

  “No. I just heard him breaking in. We’ve been out of town and only managed to get home today. He probably thought the house was still empty. When I heard someone down here, I came down and called out, thinking it might be someone in my family. But I frightened him, and he knocked over that sculpture over there.”

  Doug saw the toppled bust lying on the carpet.

  “When I fired my gun, he took off. He couldn’t have gotten far.”

  Doug left the others to calm her and stepped back outside, looking up and down the street. Whoever it was had to be long gone by now.

  Brad came out of the house and joined him on the street. “So it goes on.” Brad’s voice was deep, sullen. Doug looked at his neighbor. Brad was wearing a black T-shirt and a pair of black shorts. With his black skin, he blended into the darkness.

  “Maybe he left fingerprints, footprints,” Doug said. “Somebody needs to go get the sheriff.”

  “Can’t be me,” Brad said. “I’ve got to guard my family. No way I’m leaving them alone after this.”

  “Yeah, me either.” He looked back over his shoulder, into the house. “At least no one was hurt this time.”

  “Who knows what might have happened if she hadn’t had a gun?”

  Doug didn’t want to think about that.

  When someone went for the sheriff, and it seemed that enough people were at the house calming down the woman, Doug went back home.

  Kay was waiting at the door. “What happened? Was there another murder?”

  “Not this time. The woman who lives there—Brenda Grant— had an intruder, but he got away.”

  “The gunshots?”

  “They were hers.”

  Kay caught her breath. “Did she hit whoever it was? Can she identify him?”

  “No, she thinks she missed him. And she didn’t see a thing. It was too dark.”

  Kay started to cry and sank down onto the couch. “Oh, what are we going to do?”

&nbsp
; He sat down next to her. Rubbing a weary hand across his face, he tried to think of something to say, something to give her some peace. But he wasn’t sure there was any to offer.

  twenty-three

  Neither Doug nor Kay slept for the rest of that night. While Doug paced from window to window, Kay tried to refocus her thoughts to the Wal-Mart list. She may not be able to do anything about a killer lurking in their neighborhood, but she could at least plan a strategy for getting what they needed at the store.

  It wasn’t likely many of the things they needed most would even be on the store shelves, so Kay figured she’d shoot for things others might not think of, things that would make their lives easier if the outage continued. She prioritized her list, then divided it into five small lists—one for each member of the family . . . except Jeff. She had other plans for him.

  By the time dawn began to break, Kay’s shoulder muscles ached with fatigue, and she longed to take a nap. As light filtered in through the window, Doug finally seemed to relax.

  “Why don’t you go to bed?” she asked him. “We can go to Wal-Mart without you.”

  “No, we all need to go. It’s too important.”

  She was glad he felt that way. “I’ve made a list of things we can try to get, but we all need to put our heads together and make sure we’ve thought of everything.”

  “What time does the store open?”

  “Nine o’clock, they said last night.”

  He yawned. “You know they’re going to be out of everything.”

  “Food and perishables, of course,” she said. “But if we’re smart, we might get some other things we need.”

  “Such as?”

  She looked down at her lists. “Plastic bins, garbage cans, anything with wheels for carrying lake water. Wagons, dollies, garbage bags, bleach, camping equipment, lanterns, ammunition, candles, matches, axes, saws”—she shrugged—“and a lot of stuff we may not think of until we get there. But we should tell the kids the kind of things we’re looking for, then they can grab them and meet us at the registers.”

  “You’re sure the store is taking checks?”

  “That’s what they said last night.”

  He seemed to consider that for a moment. “I guess they figure they can cash them as soon as the banks open. But that could be awhile, and even when they do, the checks will probably be worthless.”

  “Why? We’re good for it. We have plenty of money in our account.”

  “Kay, if this lasts as long as I think it might, the whole banking system could collapse. We’re talking economic catastrophe.”

  Her mouth fell open. “But they have to give us our money!”

  “Not if they don’t have it.”

  Kay just stared at him for a moment, realizing he was right. Finally, she swallowed the panic trying to rise inside her. “I can’t think about that right now. I have to focus on Wal-Mart.”

  He pulled her close and kissed her forehead. “Good idea. One thing at a time.”

  Doug welcomed the fresh feel of clean clothes when he changed a little while later. He went back downstairs to help Kay flesh out the lists the best he could. Then, when time was growing short, he woke the kids, briefing them one at a time on what needed to be done.

  “I don’t want to go,” Beth said. “Can’t I stay home? We’re not gonna be able to get anything. It’s just gonna be crowded and hot.”

  “I’m going.” Deni slid out of bed. “I need a million things. Mascara, deodorant, fingernail polish—”

  Doug groaned. “Deni, we’re going for necessities. Come on, Beth. Get up.”

  He went to Logan’s room, got him out of bed, then headed to Jeff’s.

  His son lay facedown on his bed, his sheets tangled around his legs. His mouth was mashed against the pillow, and a wet spot had formed where he’d drooled.

  The dull ache of disappointment knotted Doug’s stomach. He touched Jeff’s leg. “Get up, Jeff. Come on. Time to wake up.”

  Jeff slowly turned over and squinted up at him. Wincing, he clutched his head.

  “It’s called a hangover,” Doug said. “Now get up and get dressed. We have to go to Wal-Mart.”

  Jeff turned back over. “I don’t need anything.”

  “Get up! I’m not telling you again. Be downstairs in ten minutes, dressed and ready to go.”

  Doug went downstairs and ate dry cereal for breakfast, wishing for coffee. But there wasn’t time to get the fire going on the pit.

  A few minutes later, the kids had gathered, and Kay doled out their breakfast as she went over the lists she’d made.

  “We can’t get all that stuff!” Deni said. “There’s no way.”

  “We’ll do the best we can,” Doug told her. “And you can each make substitutions if you see something that would work just as well. Or if you see something we don’t have on the list, and you know it would help us, grab it. Just remember, don’t waste time looking for the obvious stuff. You’ll never get it. Food items are probably already gone. Anything to drink is probably going to be cleared out. So each of you head for the department your mother gives you, and find the things we need.”

  “I need mascara,” Deni said. “And deodorant.”

  Doug didn’t have the patience for her. “We don’t have time for cosmetics.”

  “She’s right, Doug.” Kay leaned over the table and made a notation on her list. “Deni, go ahead and go to the hair and makeup aisle. You’ll need to grab some hair dye. I use Fountain of Youth brand, number 43—Soft Brunette.”

  “Hair dye?” Doug gaped at his wife. “Shouldn’t we go for the higher priority items first?”

  She lifted her eyebrows. “Hey, in about three weeks that is going to be a high priority item. Deni, get the other things first, since I doubt there’ll be a run on cosmetics. After you’ve finished the rest of your list, go and grab as many boxes of that color as they have. We don’t know how long this outage will last, and I don’t intend to go gray. And we should get toiletries. Anyone who sees toilet paper should grab as much of it as they can. Also paper towels, plates, cups.”

  Jeff scanned the lists. “There’s not a list for me. What do you want me to get?”

  “You’re going to stay outside the store and watch our bikes.”

  “What?” He looked at his mother like she was crazy. “Why?”

  “Because. We don’t want our bikes stolen, and you can fend off the thieves. You’ll take your shotgun with you and wait until we come back out.”

  Jeff groaned. “So how will we get all our loot home?”

  “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it,” Doug said.

  When they’d finished breakfast, they all mounted their bicycles and headed to Wal-Mart. It was only five miles away, and as they pulled onto the main road leading there, they saw the other bike traffic heading that way. It was going to be a madhouse.

  Jeff pulled up beside Doug as they pedaled, zigzagging through the stalled cars. “Dad, I know you’re mad about last night. I was just trying to have a little fun. It’s been really depressing around here. I just went over to Zach’s to swim and be with my friends.”

  “After I told you not to.”

  “But you were being unreasonable.”

  Doug breathed a bitter laugh. “So you bucked my authority and took matters into your own hands, went over there, and got drunk.”

  “It’s not that big of a deal, Dad. There’s not all that much else to drink.”

  Doug gaped at him. “Oh, that’s rich! You drank beer because you were thirsty and there was nothing else to drink. Beautiful.” The kid was clueless. “Bottom line, Son, that’s not going to happen again. We’re in a crisis, and I need your help and support. I’m not going to tolerate your disobedience when lives are at stake.”

  They reached the parking lot, full of stalled cars. A mob had already formed in front of the doors, waiting for them to open. “So what are you gonna do, ground me?” Jeff asked. “There’s hardly anything you can take away. I can?
??t use a television, a phone, a computer, video games . . .”

  “I’m not going to ground you, Son. I’m going to work you.”

  Jeff moaned. “Well, that’s just great.”

  “Your mother and I are tired, so you’re going to take up the slack today.”