The Remnants of Yesterday (8 page)

23

I JOLTED AWAKE, my heart pounding in my chest. My head was spinning, and my stomach felt like it had been kicked. All the stress and activity of the last 24 hours must have affected me more than I realized.

It was still dark.

Clara rolled over beside me and mumbled something unintelligible. For a moment I thought she might wake up, but she settled back down. On my left, Emily was curled up with her back to me, her knees drawn almost to her chest.

Once the dizziness receded, I rose, careful not to disturb them, took a bottle of water, and then slipped outside past Clay, who still cradled the shotgun. His loud, rhythmic snores spoke to the fact that he was clearly not adept at guarding the door. He also hadn’t bothered to barricade it, or wedge it closed. Had a horde of Crazies descended upon us while we slept, we would have found out as they were ripping us limb from limb. Not a pleasant thought.

It was cool outside. A slight breeze stirred the air, carrying with it the scent of fresh cut hay from the fields behind the barn. The farmhouse still smoldered, the fire’s ashes glowing red in the darkness. With no electric lights to compete with, the sky was alive with stars, the wide band of the Milky Way slashing across the heavens like a celestial river.

I twisted the top off the water and took a long drink, gulping down the water. As I did so, my mind began to turn. Standing outside, alone, with the barn door pulled almost closed until there was nothing but a crack between the door and the frame, I could almost believe that none of the events of the past few days was real. Everything seemed so serene, so…

Normal.

Granted, there was a house not one hundred yards away that was now nothing more than a crispy shell, and if you believed Cole, and somehow I did, there were a couple of bodies laying out in the darkness somewhere, two Crazies with dime sized holes in their heads. But if you looked past that, just glanced in any other direction, then the world was just as it always had been.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

I turned to find Clara leaning against the doorframe.

“Couldn’t sleep,” I said.

“Yeah. The end of the world will do that for you.” She slipped outside and guided the door closed, careful not to let it bang.

“End of the world might be a bit harsh.” I offered her some of my water. “Okay, nothing’s working, no phones, no power, not even cars, and the highway looks like a wrecker’s yard…”

“Don’t forget the zombies.” She took the water and gulped a mouthful down.

“Don’t call them that.”

“Why? Seems to fit.”

“Zombies aren’t real,” I said. “I don’t know what has happened to people, but I’m pretty sure they didn’t turn into zombies.”

“Whatever.” She shrugged and handed the water back. “I’ve been thinking.”

“Me too.”

“We need a plan. Something to work toward, otherwise we’ll just end up roaming around out here until the zombies…” She paused and corrected herself. “Sorry, the Crazies, get us.”

“I know what my plan is.”

“Really?”

“I need to find Jeff.”

“Isn’t your brother in New York?” Clara asked. “That’s a long way without any means of transportation.”

“I was thinking the same thing, but I have to try. He’s all I have.”

“He’s probably dead already.”

“Don’t say that.” I felt a prickle of anger.

“Look, I’m not being mean, but you have to realize that there’s a good chance he didn’t make it. New York is a prime target. I don’t know what this thing is, but it seems like the city would be the first place hit. There are just so many people there.”

“You might be right, but what do I have to lose? There’s nothing else left.”

“That’s not true, there’s me.” She reached out and touched my arm. “I need you.”

I looked at her, momentarily dumbfounded. “What about your family?”

“I’m a realist. My parents live in Florida, and I have a brother out west. Unless some miracle happens, I can’t reach any of them.” She looked up at the sky, admiring the Milky Way. “You know, it’s amazing to think how small we are, how tiny our planet is, and yet even on such a small speck of rock we can be so far away from our loved ones.”

“You will see them again,” I said.

“Maybe.” She fixed her attention back on me. “In the meantime though, I guess you’re stuck with me.”

“Well, there are worse people to be stuck with,” I replied. “Clay for a start. He’d probably have shot me by now.”

Clara laughed, her eyes lighting up for a moment, before a shadow fell over her face. “Why don’t we go back inside? It’s probably not safe out here.”

“You’re right. I don’t know what I was thinking coming out here on my own.” I reached out and gripped the barn door, holding it open for Clara to enter first.

It was at that moment, as I was about to step back inside, that the phone in my pocket vibrated.

I looked at Clara, startled. “I think I just got a text.”

“What?” She swiveled around, her eyes wide. “I thought the phones weren’t working.”

“Me too.” I pulled the device from my pocket and turned the screen on, typing in the password. The text message icon now had a bold number next to it. “I do have a new text.”

“Well?”

“Hang on.” I opened it, waiting for the message to come up, and then read it, once to confirm who it was from, the second time to absorb the words, and then I turned to Clara. “We need to wake the others.”

24

NEW HAVEN

GO SOUTH

VIRUS SPREADING

“What does it mean?” Emily looked down at the phone, her brow furrowed.

“It means I was right.” Clay said. “Goddamned idiots in Washington went and started something they couldn’t finish.” He paced back and forth, a vein in his forehead throbbing. “I bet it’s the Koreans, or the freaking Chinese. I knew it.”

“Now hang on,” I said. “We don’t know anything.”

“We know plenty,” Clay replied. “Virus spreading? That can only mean one thing. Biological warfare.”

“That’s just jumping to conclusions,” Clara said. “We’re as much in the dark as we were yesterday.”

“No, we’re not. Those things, those zombies, they are infected with a damn virus.”

“And it’s spreading,” Emily said. “At least if you believe the text message.”

“On the face of it we have no reason not to.” Clara looked at me. “Are you sure it was your brother who sent it?”

“Sure as I can be.” I picked up the phone. “It’s from his number.”

“Does New Haven mean anything to you?” Clara asked.

“No.”

“It would be nice if the message gave us a bit more information,” she said. “The only New Haven I know of is in Connecticut.”

“Connecticut seems logical, given our location,” I agreed. “And Jeff might be there if they evacuated New York.”

“Which would explain the text.” Clara looked hopeful.

“Kind of,” Clay said. “But it doesn’t explain everything.”

“What?” I looked at him.

“How come your phone works when no one else’s does?” Clay narrowed his eyes. “Seems mighty odd to me.”

“I don’t know. When I charged it at the school there was no service.”

“And now?”

“A weak signal. One bar.”

“One bar, huh, all the way out here in the middle of nowhere. Have you called the number back?” Clay asked. “Replied to the text message?"

“First thing I did. The text bounces back undeliverable, and the number just gets an automated message. The call cannot be completed at this time.”

“And yet somehow you got that text through anyway,” Clay said, narrowing his eyes.

“I never said I had all the answers.” I wasn’t sure what Clay was getting at, but he was starting to annoy me.

“We’re getting off point here.” Clara positioned herself between us, sensing the change in mood. “The real issue is what do we do next?”

“I say we do what the phone said and go south,” Emily piped up.

“I agree.” I was getting tired of the discussion. “We should head toward New Haven. If this message is from Jeff, then he must be there already. It must be safe.”

“There’s no guarantee the message meant New Haven, Connecticut.” Clay seemed determined to argue. “Seems like a waste of time if you ask me.”

“Well we’re not asking. Come with us, or don’t. No skin off my nose.”

“Easy there fella.” Clay turned to Clara. “Sensitive one ain’t he, your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend.” Clara shot me a look. “But he’s right. We can’t stay here, and New Haven seems as good a place to go as any.”

“If you’re smart, you’ll head toward the border.” Clay said. “Canada.”

“Why on earth would we want to go to there?” I asked, wondering if Clay had lost his mind. “What makes you think Canada will be any different from here?”

“Of course it’ll be different. It’s Canada.” Clay drew a breath. “Whatever this is, this thing that’s happened, the chances are that it was an attack on the USA. We’re always poking our noses in where they don’t belong. Maybe someone got mad and poked back. Canada is probably just fine.”

“If it is, and that’s a big if, they will have closed the border by now. What are you going to do? Waltz on up there and ask them to let you in?”

“Pretty much.”

“Good luck with that.” I turned to Clara and Emily. “I vote we make our way south, go to New Haven.”

“I agree,” Clara said.

“Me too.” Emily nodded.

Clay looked us over, as if trying to figure out if we were really serious, then shrugged. “Hey, it’s you’re funeral.” He turned and stomped off, then returned a few moments later with a pistol. “If you’re hell bent on going south, you’d better take this.”

“I don’t know.” I hesitated.

“Just take it numbnuts. You’re going to need something to defend yourselves.” He pressed the gun into my hand. “When this is all over I expect you to find me and give it back, comprende?”

“Sure.”

“Well alright then.” Clay grinned.

I looked down at the pistol, solid and heavy in my hand. It seemed we were now armed.

25

“DO YOU THINK he’ll make it to Canada?” Emily asked as we walked along.

“I don’t know. Maybe. I hope so.” We’d left Clay behind at the barn several hours before and trekked over the fields, finally linking back up with the highway. Much as I wanted to avoid the Interstate, with it’s mangled cars and dead bodies, it was also the quickest way to travel. My one concern was running into more Crazies, and the closer we were to civilization the more chance we had of encountering them. Despite this, the day had so far proved uneventful, and the Interstate, which seemed clogged with cars the last time we walked it, was surprisingly free of vehicles. We went long stretches with barely a wreck to be seen, much to my relief. When we did come across a vehicle or a pile up we gave it a wide berth, wary of what, or who, might be lurking out of sight.

“We shouldn’t have left him there like that, all alone,” Clara said. “It’s not right.”

“He made his choice.” A part of me wished Clay had decided to come with us. He seemed to know his way around firearms, and that shotgun of his would come in useful when we ran into more Crazies, which I was sure we would. On the other hand, I found myself leery of him. It wasn’t anything I could put my finger on, but I had a feeling he would be bad news if we stuck with him too long.

“Even so–”

“I didn’t like him,” Emily said. “He didn’t make me feel safe.”

“Me either.” It seemed I wasn’t the only one who had taken a dislike to Clay.

“You know, he did give us a gun.”

“He did. I’m still not sure why.” I reached down to my belt and touched the handle of the pistol. In my pocket I had a handful of bullets, which Clay gave to us as we were preparing to leave. Since I was the only one with any firearms experience, I kept the gun, while Clara took the tire iron. Emily found a wicked looking old rake with three curved tines at the back of the barn and decided to keep it. It was rusty, and the handle was snapped off half way down, but it was better than nothing.

“Maybe he felt bad for us.” Clara hitched her backpack higher, repositioning it.

“Maybe.” It didn’t matter. We were walking in opposite directions.

“How long do you think it will take us to get to New Haven?” Emily asked.

“It’s a pretty long trek.” I had been wondering that myself. “Several days, at least.”

“I wonder if there are other people out there like us, people that didn’t get infected with the virus?”

“I hope so.” There were several towns along the way, surely someone must have survived. The big question was, whether the survivors would be friendly. Even Clay came out pointing a gun at us, and if there were Crazies running around people might be tempted to shoot first and ask questions later.

“There are other survivors,” Clara said as we approached yet another off ramp, this one blocked by a semi–trailer that had veered from its lane and jack knifed, spilling pallets of building materials across the road. “Look.”

I followed her gaze. At first I didn’t see anything, but then my eyes settled on a motel a few hundred yards off the exit. On the roof of the office, a bed sheet was spread out, with one word written across it in big bold lettering.

HELP.