Children Of The Mountain (Book 2): The Devil You Know (21 page)

I’m not sure I could stand right now, let alone walk. The hot drink sounds really good though. I wonder what Hicks keeps in that thermos he always has on him. I reckon if I was offered some I might take my chances.

I hear him getting up and the next thing he steps into view. It must be his coat that’s covering me because he’s only wearing his thermals. Without the bulk of the parka he looks painfully thin, but if the cold’s bothering him he’s not showing any sign of it. He squints down at me with his one good eye.

‘How’re you feeling?’

I manage to croak an okay. The truth is I hurt everywhere. The pain’s worst in my hands and feet; it’s like someone’s driving hundreds of tiny needles into my skin. He kneels down next to me and reaches for my wrist. I feel his fingers slide inside the cuff of my mittens, underneath the liner, and press lightly there. I don’t know what he’s doing but whatever it is I don’t have the strength to resist.

‘Pulse’s almost back to normal.’ He withdraws his hand and pulls the parka back over me. His eyes drop to my cheeks. ‘Picked yourself up some frostbite too, although I’ve seen worse. That was a damn fool thing you did, setting off into weather like that.’

Part of me wants to tell him I know; that I was taught better than that; that I only did it because I was desperate and needed the storm to cover my tracks. But this explanation seems impossibly long and I’m far too tired to give it, so instead I just ask where I am.

‘St. Charles.’

It takes me a moment to remember that’s the name of the church just a little ways west of the entrance to The Greenbrier. Close then. But I guess that doesn’t matter now.

‘So what was your plan, son? Clear everybody out of The Greenbrier, then while we’re off looking for you, you sneak back in and get the girl?’

I don’t know what else to say. It was a bit more complicated than that but what he’s just said sounds like a pretty succinct summary of it. I nod.

‘Well, if it makes you feel any better it was working. Right up until the part where you almost froze to death, that is. You were lucky I found you when I did.’

He stands up and steps over to the fire. I hear the hissing from the damp branches as he adds more of them to the flames.

‘Were you the only one sent after me?’

‘Nope. Doc was pretty riled up when you split. Soon as the storm broke she had everyone out looking for you, even Pops.’

‘Are they back yet?’

‘I doubt it. They were headed north along the river when I parted company with them. Truck’s plan was to pick up 64 and continue on after you. He’s probably somewhere south of Lynch by now. Man’s as ignorant as the day is long but he’s backwoods raised, so he knows how to follow a trail. I figure when he doesn’t find you by tonight he’ll cut his losses, come back.’

‘How did you know I hadn’t headed south?’

Hicks turns back and looks at me.

‘You think being a soldier’s just about shooting stuff, son?’ He shakes his head. ‘Our enemies stopped putting on uniforms long before I signed up. Most important part of it’s figurin’ out who those folks are, and what they might be about to do next. If you can’t tell that you’ve no business being anywhere near a gun.’

‘I saw the look on your face when Truck hitched the girl off her feet. I knew it then; no way you were leaving without her, no matter what she might have written on her hand. Having you clean the weapons was just a test. Once I saw you’d removed the firing pins I knew you were fixin’ to bolt. Nice touch with the boat though. Even had me doubting you for a moment there. But then I saw the wrappers you left scattered around, down by the river. You left them so they wouldn’t blow away; so we’d find them. Somebody taught you different’n that though, didn’t they? Because you’ve been bagging your trash since the first time we met, and habits like that are hard to break. Damn stupid if you ask me, the way the world is now. But you learned it, so it’s what you do.’

Hicks is still speaking but I’m only half-listening. Another, more important, thought is coming to me now. Something’s wrong; we’re right across the road from The Greenbrier but for some reason I’m not already back there.

‘So what do you mean to do with me?’

Hicks returns to one of the pews and sits down.

‘Depends on you, son. I figure you wouldn’t have gone to all this trouble if you didn’t have a plan for breaking the girl out of the bunker and getting her to a cure. If you do I’d be mighty interested in hearing it.’

I look up. I’m still not sure whether I can trust him. But right now I’m not sure I’m long on other options.

‘In Eden we had a scanner. One of those machines like in the hospital, basically a big magnet. Marv and I had to go in it each time we came back inside. It was supposed to destroy any trace of the virus we might have picked up while we were outside.’

Hicks looks down at me, like he’s considering this.

‘Did you mention any of that scanner stuff to the Doc?’

I shake my head. He scratches his jaw, like maybe that’s not a bad start.

‘This Eden place, are you sure you can find it? ’Cause if you don’t mind me saying you seemed a little vague on its location when we spoke earlier.’

‘I can find it.’

He nods.

‘Fair enough. And what makes you think they’ll let you in when you get there?’

I can’t see Kane ever letting us in, certainly not once he figures out Mags is infected. But I reckon Hicks doesn’t need to hear this part yet. Besides, that’s not the bit that worries me. I’ve found a way in before; I’m sure I can do it again. It’s getting back out afterwards that’ll be the trick, and right now I don’t know how I’m going to do that. But I’ll worry about it later. If I can’t get Mags into the scanner it won’t matter anyway.

‘I can get us in.’

‘Alright then. I might have some questions for you about that, but first things first. What was your plan for getting back into The Greenbrier?’

‘The bunker has to have another entrance. Something bigger, like maybe where the supplies would have been brought in. It’ll have a keypad.’

He nods.

‘There is. It’s round back of the West Virginia Wing. We tried it when we first got here but the codes the Doc had didn’t work. It hasn’t been opened since.’

‘I have a code that should work.’

I told Hicks earlier that Marv hadn’t given me any codes, but if he remembers this he doesn’t call me on it. Instead he squints down at me for a long moment, like maybe I’m being re-evaluated.

‘And how about you? How far do you think you can walk?’

Right now I’m not sure I can even stand.

‘As far as I have to.’

He shifts his jaw like maybe he doesn’t believe that but he doesn’t say anything.

‘Alright then, you’d best rest up. I’m going to fetch your boots. We’ll see what shape you’re in when I get back.’

He stands up and heads for the arched entrance. Outside the day’s already darkening.

‘Hicks, wait.’

He turns around.

‘Why would you help us?’

‘I have my reasons.’

I shake my head.

‘You’ll have to do better than that. I’m done taking people at their word.’

He doesn’t say anything for a long while, just stares down at me like he’s making his mind up about something. Eventually he must come to a conclusion because he reaches up with one gloved hand to the patch over his eye. I’m expecting an empty socket, maybe a scar, evidence of whatever it was that took the sight from him there. It won’t bother me to look at it; I’ve seen my share of things like that, and worse. But what I see when he lifts the patch causes the breath to catch in my throat.

He’s squinting hard, like he can’t bear even the little light the day has left, but there’s no mistaking it. The pupil that looks back at me is impossibly dilated. And it’s not dark, like his other eye. It flashes silver, like when you shine a flashlight into an animal’s eyes at night. When he thinks I’ve seen enough he pulls the patch back down.

‘Turns out Doc didn’t get it all. She has me on her meds, to suppress it, but I know it’s there, working its way through me, slowly building itself up, just like in the furies that got themselves fried by the burst. It’s not a feeling I much care for. So maybe we can do each other a favor. You bring me with you and I’ll help you get the girl out of the bunker, buy you the time she needs when we get to Eden.’

He turns back towards the doorway.

‘I’ll be back with your boots. You can give me your answer then.’

*

I
LOOK OVER
at the church’s arched entrance for a long time after Hicks leaves. One of the doors is missing and the other hangs inward on its last studded hinge. Beyond the growing darkness beckons. I’m right across the road from The Greenbrier. I wonder if I should take my chances while he’s gone.

I sit up slowly. My feet are still wrapped in the scraps of blankets I tore from my bedding, but the plastic sacking and duct tape are gone. I spot the remnants of my makeshift footwear on the other side of the fire, lying in a puddle of melt water. I guess Hicks must have cut them off while I was out of it. Well, that settles it. Even if I had tape they’re beyond repair, and without boots I’m not going anywhere. I have little choice but to wait for him to come back.

I shuffle backwards and lean myself against one of the pews. I’m not sure what to make of what I’ve just learned. It makes sense, of course, now that I know. It’s not just the silver hair, or how gaunt he looks. I’ve never seen him eat, or sleep. I wonder if it explains how quick he is too. The articles I collected for my shoebox said the virus hotwired those it infected, that it replaced their internal wiring with its own. Except that the virus’s circuits were way faster than ours had ever been designed to be.

Well, infected or not, right now I need his help, and not just to fetch me my boots. He’s been inside the bunker, which means he’ll know where Mags is, so I won’t have to search the whole place looking for her. My spirits lift a little at the prospect of seeing her again and for a moment I put aside what might happen afterwards and allow that thought to sustain me.

I’ll need to watch him though. I still don’t even know how Mags came to be infected, only that Gilbey’s version of it isn’t to be believed. However it happened I tell myself Hicks can’t have been part of it; he was with me the whole time. And if all he was planning to do was deliver me back to Gilbey he could have just done that already. There would be no need to bring me here.

But even if he means to help us he has the virus; I’ll need to be careful. I look down and suddenly realize it’s his parka that’s draped over me. The snaps have been cut out, the zipper replaced with plastic, and I suspect every other trace of metal will have been removed from it. Nevertheless I throw it off me like I’ve just found it crawling with fire ants.

Without the extra layer it’s cold and in spite of Hicks’ warning I shift myself a little closer to the fire. Even the faint warmth it casts is intoxicating. My entire body aches, but my hands and feet are the worst. I pull off my mittens and liners and examine the damage. Small blisters dot my fingertips and the flesh there feels waxy and hard, like it’s been frozen. When I try and curl my fingers into a fist I can manage little more than a rigid claw. I relax my hand again and feel along my cheeks. The skin there’s the same.

It’s my legs I’m most worried about though; I’ll need them soon. Outside dusk’s already settling. Hicks said Truck would probably have given up looking for me by now. If that’s the case he’ll be back in The Greenbrier tomorrow. Which means I’ll need to break Mags out of the bunker and get us away from here before then.

I start unraveling the strips of blanket I’d used to wrap my feet. As the last of them falls away I see the slippers underneath are striped with blood. I pull them off as gently as I can and examine the damage. It looks worse than it is. The snowshoes’ hard plastic bindings have done some work there but the cuts don’t look deep. I clean them as best as I can and then cover them with bandages from the first aid kit I keep in my backpack.

When I’m done I lever myself up onto the pew. Even that small effort exhausts me and I have to rest before I can continue. When I try to stand it’s like my legs have gone to sleep; I can’t trust them to bear me up. I lower myself back onto the pew and start massaging my thighs with my frozen fingers.

I’ll try again in a little while.

It’s hours before Hicks returns, but suddenly there he is, standing in the doorway with a pair of boots in one hand and an extra set of snowshoes in the other. The last of the light’s already left the sky; there’s little to see behind him other than darkness.

I ease myself back down onto one of the pews to take a break. Things are a little better than when he left. I’m able to hobble around now; I can make it almost the length of the aisle before I need to sit down again. Pins and needles still stab up from the balls of my feet with every step, but at least that means feeling’s returning.

He drops the boots at my feet and sets the snowshoes on top of his pack.

‘Did you have any problems?’

He shakes his head but doesn’t elaborate.

I figure I’ve earned dinner so I reach into my backpack for an MRE. I tear the top off the heater and slide the packet with my meal in it inside. I add a little water from my canteen to start the reaction and then lean it against the side of the seat. It starts hissing, telling me it’s getting to work.

Hicks sits down on one of the pews opposite. His gaze shifts to the fire and I catch him eyeing the bloodstained remains of the slippers I left there. When he looks back at me there’s an expression on his face that’s not hunger but maybe something not too far removed; a memory of what that feeling once was. I point at the MRE in case he wants one, although now that I know what’s wrong with him that seems foolish. He just shakes his head and reaches for the thermos, unscrews the cap and raises it to his lips.

My dinner’s as warm as it’s going to get so I pick up the pouch and start scooping out the contents. Outside the wind gusts, sending a flurry of gray flakes tumbling down through the gaping hole in the rafters to settle around us.