Blood Cult (15 page)

We drove south
along the eighty-seven, heading back towards the encampment. The trip into Albany
had taken longer than expected and it was already dark. I rode shotgun in the
Raptor, Shane driving and Duncan as a passenger. The Chang brothers followed
behind in a glorified shopping cart that was rammed with food. After finding
plenty of painkillers and a good deal of morphine in the Cancer Unit, we’d
raided the cafeteria for food supplies and taken them to the vehicles on a
couple of gurneys. On the way back we’d stopped by a gun store. The door had
been smashed in and most of the lethal weapons had been taken, but what I
wanted wasn’t lethal.

I was starting to get excited, but I always did get nerves before going
on stage. My hands were shaky and I tried to think how long it had been since
I’d last performed. Atlanta’s farewell gig had been in the late eighties, but
I’d been so drugged up back then I couldn’t recall much about it. However, I
could remember the ‘come back’ gig we played in ’92. It didn’t sell out, but
the fans said we had.

‘Holy shit!’ exclaimed Shane as he stared ahead.

I broke from my thoughts and looked through the windshield. Vehicles were
parked all along the verge beside the field. It looked like Dodge had done a
great job of coaxing people to come out of hiding, Dodge and God.

We drew up to the entrance and drove over the ruined section of hedge.
The left-hand side of the field behind the semi-circle of school buses had
become a packed parking lot. To the right, a couple of fires burned and around
them milled hundreds of people, some carrying plastic cups and plates.

‘We’d better pull up behind the float,’ I instructed, Shane taking us
over to the hedge as Mark broke off from the shadowed crowd and began to walk
over.

I climbed out after we came to a stop, taking up the carryall that had
been tucked between my legs.

‘We’ve run out of food,’ stated Mark as he came to a stop on the far side
of the Raptor, the crowd at his back.

‘There’s plenty more,’ I replied over the roof, nodding towards the Changs
as they pulled up behind.

Mark walked over to the car as I looked at the people gathered upon the
field. There must have been at least five hundred that had come out of the city
and the sounds of their expectant murmuring increased my nerves. Many were
looking over, studying me with curious looks as they waited to find out about
the cure and safety they had been promised.

‘Shane,’ I called as he got out on the far side.

He walked between the Raptor’s bumper and the tailgate of the parade
float. ‘How we gonna do this?’ he asked, halting beside me and looking out
across the mass of people.

‘I’ll send all the pure bloods over to the bus on the right. You and the Changs
be ready to bag ‘em. And remember, no fatalities unless there’s no other
choice.’

He nodded and moved to the rear passenger door. Reaching in, he took out
a plain box containing the weapons we’d taken from the gun store and then made
his way to the car behind, he and the brothers walking off through the crowd
after briefly conferring. I watched them go and then spied Dodge, waving him
over.

He drew out of the crowd and strode to the Raptor. ‘Seems to have worked
a treat,’ he said with a grin, ‘and no bullet holes.’ He held his arms out to
the sides and glanced down at himself.

‘Didn’t I say God would take care of you? How do you feel about getting
behind the microphone again?’

‘Sure thing, what do you want me to do?’

‘First, I want you to find Jacqui. We need someone else to lend a hand.’

Dodge gave a nod and turned back to the crowd, striding over to them as
he scanned the faces.

‘What’s with all the people?’ asked Duncan as he felt his way out of the
vehicle beside me.

I looked at his face. He skin was drawn tight across his cheekbones, lips
lacking colour. ‘How would you like to be part of the show?’

‘Show?’

‘Yeah,’ I replied with a grin, looking forward to taking the stage after
so many years standing on sidewalks and being mostly ignored by the people
passing by.

I dried my hands
on the red and white chequered dish cloth as I watched the water circle down
the plughole. The washing up sat on the drainer. I didn’t like to leave it till
morning and had done it partly out of habit and partly to distract myself from
dark thoughts. Chrissie had gone straight up to bed after finishing her sponge,
though I’d made her come back down to show me her teeth as proof they’d been
cleaned.

I sighed and hung the cloth over the handle at the front of the oven,
glancing around and wondering whether to give the tabletop a wipe down.
Deciding against it, I blew out all but one of the candles and took it up from
the counter, the nearby window awash with the continuing downpour.

Protecting it with my free hand, I walked from the kitchen and down the
hall. Entering the sitting room, I found Tyreese already stretched out on the
settee behind the door, hands behind his head and legs crossed as he reclined.
I smiled thinly down at him, a pair of candles flickering gently as they rested
on a coffee table beyond the far arm of the sofa.

‘All done?’

‘Yeah,’ I replied with a nod. ‘Thanks for not mentioning the note in
front of Chrissie,’ I said, referring to the folded piece of paper he’d
discovered on the kitchen counter, the word “son” written on the front and
“we’ll see you on the other side” scrawled within.

‘No problem.’

‘Are you going to be okay on there?’

‘It won’t be the first time I’ve slept on a settee. I used to work into
the early hours and often found myself so tired that I dropped off with my
computer resting on my lap.’

‘You didn’t have an office?’

‘I prefer not to be tied down to one room. Besides, I liked to have films
running in the background while I worked.’ He glanced at the darkened TV in the
far corner. It was one of the old style ones with the large backs and there was
a VCR beneath with a few tapes piled on top.

‘Wasn’t that distracting?’

‘Depends on the film,’ he said with a vague smile. ‘You know, this is
going to sound dumb, but when I viewed my house and saw the
Mad Max
style Falcon sitting on your driveway, I knew it was a sign I should buy the
place.’

‘That would have made Bob smile,’ I said with a vague nod.

There was a brief and thoughtful silence.

‘You going on up now?’ asked Tyreese.

‘I should.’

‘I must admit, you do look tired.’

‘I feel it. I can’t have slept more than six hours in total since this
all began.’

‘No headache or anything?’

I shook my head. ‘You?’

‘A little.’

‘That could be more to do with your eye than anything else,’ I stated, looking
at the bruising left after his struggle with the carjacker. ‘Is it painful?’

‘More uncomfortable.’

There was another momentary silence and then I put voice to the
conclusion I’d come to while finishing up in the kitchen.

‘We’ve got to try and get over the border.’ I held his gaze.

Tyreese looked at me a moment and then nodded. ‘For Chrissie.’

‘For all of us. It may be that you’re starting to feel the effects and
I’m sure it won’t be long before I do too. If we go back to our old
neighbourhood we’ll die there,’ I stated bluntly.

He took a deep breath. ‘I’d been thinking the same thing,’ he admitted,
glancing at the shotgun leaning against the arm near his head.

There were a few moments of contemplative silence as I thought about the
likelihood of encountering the Canadian military at whichever border crossing we
tried next. The images of what had happened earlier came to mind with fearful
clarity and my stomach churned with nervous agitation.

‘Do you think there’s any chance we’ll make it?’ asked Tyreese.

‘To Montreal?’ I asked, turning back to him.

He shook his head. ‘In general. Is there any hope we’ll survive this
thing?’

I perched on the near arm, as if the weight of his question forced me to
find support. ‘I don’t know,’ I replied after a moment, resting the candle on
my knee.

‘Maybe it would’ve been better to go out with the bomb. I mean, if today
is anything to go by then getting across the border isn’t exactly going to be a
walk in the park.’

‘We don’t know that,’ I said, hearing the lack of conviction in my own
words.

Tyreese raised his eyebrows.

I sighed. ‘Okay, I admit it, the same thought has crossed my mind. If it
weren’t for Chrissie I wouldn’t see any point in carrying on.’

‘She’s a sweet kid,’ he responded. ‘What’s with the octopus? Made of
tights, isn’t it?’ he asked, wanting to change the topic of conversation.

‘Yeah, my mom made it when she was a baby and they’ve been inseparable
ever since. He’s called Ollie.’

Tyreese smiled. ‘Perfect name.’

‘Bob and I named him. When she first started speaking she couldn’t
pronounce her els and called him “Oggie”.’

His smile faded slightly.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Just thinking about Chris.’

‘How long had she been yours?’

‘Twelve years, though she wasn’t really mine. I was more her devoted
member of staff than her owner.’

‘It would have been quick.’

‘Small mercies,’ he said, his smile having vacated and been replaced by a
frown.

I yawned and then wiped the moisture from my eyes. ‘I should head on up.’

‘Shame there’s no electricity, I could have done with watching a movie
right now.’

‘I can’t believe they still have a VCR. I didn’t think there were any
left.’

‘I had a look through the tapes before lying down.’

‘Anything worth watching?’

‘I think it must have been just for the girl’s benefit.’

‘Andrea.’

‘Yeah, Andrea,’ he said with a nod. ‘It’s mainly Disney classics, though
I could have happily watched
The Wizard of Oz
.’

I glanced over at the tapes. ‘I don’t think we’re in Kansas anymore,’ I
stated absently.

‘That’s for sure,’ replied Tyreese.

‘We could have a sing-along.’

He snorted. ‘Yeah,
Ding-Dong the Witch is Dead
.’

‘I was thinking more
Somewhere Over the Rainbow
,’ I replied.

‘Skies are blue,’ he said sadly, looking to the front window beyond me.

We fell into a thoughtful silence and I stared down at the rug in the
middle of the floor, tasselled edging bedraggled and once bright colours faded like
summer diminishing into fall. The worn russet and orange patchwork amplified
the sadness welling within.

My thoughts turned to Bob and my monstrous actions on the roadside verge,
actions which had caused me to leave the rifle in the car after we’d found the
farm unoccupied. I was abhorred by what I’d done and the more I thought about
it, the more I never wanted to hold a gun again.

I shook my head and blinked away tears. There was nothing to be gained
from wallowing in the sorrow. It’s time would come, for now I had to stay
strong and keep Chrissie from harm. Once we were safe, that’s what I told
myself. Once we were safe I could mourn.

I rose from the arm of the settee after hearing the creak of the bed in
the room above. ‘See you in the morning.’

‘I hope you manage to get some rest,’ said Tyreese.

‘And you,’ I replied before walking out of the room and crossing the
hallway with the candle before me.

I climbed the stairs with weary and heavy steps, my body in dire need of
recharging after everything that had happened. I turned right on the landing
and went to the door of the main bedroom. It was ajar and I could hear a brief
groan arise from within, Chrissie’s sleep unsettled.

I pushed on it gently and was grateful that the hinges made no sound.
Peering in, the candlelight affording only a little illumination, I wondered
whether I should go to Andrea’s room and leave Chrissie in peace.

‘Mommy?’

‘It’s me, Honey.’

‘Are you coming to bed?’

‘Yes.’

I stepped in and pushed the door to before walking over and setting the
candle on the bedside table, an old alarm clock resting nearby with twin chimes
on top and a winding mechanism at the back. It marked time with its soft
ticking, not only the moments in which I found myself, but also the time that
had passed since the family had taken their own lives, the fact it was still
running meaning their deaths must have been relatively recent.

Chrissie looked at me with eyes made raw by her lack of sleep and
worsening condition. Before heading up to bed she’d begun to complain of
dizziness and nausea. I knew what it meant and knew that the only hope of
Chrissie recovering from the radiation poisoning lay in Montreal. If anywhere
was going to have the facilities and medication to counteract her steadily
worsening condition, it was there. We had to go, there was no other choice, but
we also needed to recoup before hitting the road again. A few hours and we’d be
ready to set off, to find a way across the border, even if it meant abandoning
the car and walking cross-country.

Sitting on the edge of the bed with shoulders slumped, I pulled off my
sneakers, catching the odour of my feet after they’d been confined for so long.
I tugged my sweatshirt over my head, the simple action taking great effort.
Folding it, I lay it over the foot of the plain white bed frame and found I
hadn’t the will or energy to disrobe any further.

‘I can’t sleep,’ said Chrissie as I slipped beneath the covers.

‘It’ll come eventually,’ I replied as I settled my head on the pillow, finding
it hard and uncomfortable as she snuggled into me, putting an arm over my
midriff and Ollie squashed between the two of us.

‘Do you think we’ll make it to Montreal?’

‘You shouldn’t start thinking about things like that now,’ I said, not
wanting to dwell on the possible answer. ‘Just clear your mind and you’ll soon
be wrapped in the arms of slumber.’ I looked down at her and brushed her hair
back from her forehead.

‘I like that,’ she said with a soft smile before yawning.

‘Your hair being stroked?’

‘“Wrapped in the arms of slumber”,’ she replied.

‘And what’s even more special is that you’re wrapped in my arms too,’ I
said, giving her a cuddle. ‘I love you, Chrissie.’

‘I love you too, Mommy,’ she replied softly, the candlelit hush of the
room gathering about us as we tried to find sleep.