Extinct (33 page)

Luke and Frank headed for the door and most of the other hand-raisers followed behind. Judy stayed in her seat.

“Hey, guys,” Robby began, but Ted put a hand on his shoulder and Robby stopped.

Sheila moved over to Brad’s table and leaned over towards Judy.

“You’re not really going with them, are you?” asked Sheila.

“Yeah," Judy said, “I think I am.”

“I hate to say it," Sheila said, “but I just don’t think that guy is safe. I don’t trust him.”

“What’s safe?” Judy asked. “Safe ended a while ago. I’m sick of being here. I want to go away from here.”

“What about Robby’s idea?” Brad asked, injecting himself into the conversation.

“I can’t follow his logic," Judy said. “He’s always right, but I just don’t have the energy for all that. He’s full of fight. Let him fight.”

Robby and Ted conferred with each other until Robby heard his name.
 

“It’s not time to give up yet, Judy,” Robby said. “I know you want to go back to the way it was, and we still can.”

“I’m not giving up,” Judy said to him. “I’m just moving on. I don’t even think I want my old life anymore. I just want something different than all this. What are we still doing here? There’s nothing left. I’ll be out by the truck.”

Judy pushed back from the table and fished a pack of cigarettes from her pocket before she put her coat on.

“We’re losing a lot of people, Rob," Ted said.

After the hand-raisers left, fifteen people remained including the people at Brad’s table. When Judy got up, several others stood and started to put on their coats as well.

“We really need everyone’s help,” Robby said to the room. “If you can just stick around for a few more minutes we can start making our plans.”

Smelly, silent since the beginning of the meeting, was one of the people preparing to leave. Before he walked away, he addressed Robby. "You know I’m in for anything, Rob. Just get me on the radio when the time comes.”

“I’d like to talk this through with you right now, Glen,” Robby said.
 

“I’m going to get moving," Glen said. “You just give a shout on the radio and I’ll help out however I can.”

“You guys want to pull up chairs and we’ll start hashing out some details?” Ted asked the others. His invitation spurred people to action, but not the action he requested. Even more people grabbed their coats and made their way to the door. Two women who’d been sitting together in the opposite corner conferred in their seats and then came to join the table with Brad, Robby, Ted, and Sheila.
 

Brad introduced himself and found out their names were Lisa and Romie.
 

The door closed behind the last of the defectors and then crashed back open. A burly man in a grimy sheepskin coat flipped around a chair and sat backwards while uncapping a bottle of whiskey.
 

“Good to see you back, Pete," Ted said.

“Took me five minutes in the parking lot to figure out that Luke guy is an asshole,” Pete said. “I wonder how long it will take the rest of them to piece it together. Probably they’ll figure it out just west of Standish.”

“I hope so," Ted said. “Or else it will be a long trip back.”

“So what are we talking about here?” asked Pete. “You said you want to get a thousand eye-poppers up to Augusta?”

“Yes, that’s about right,” Robby said.

“You’re talking about a thousand dead bodies. Maybe one-fifty pounds apiece on average,” Pete said. He spoke quick and low, counting on his fingers. “That’s gonna be about a hundred and fifty thousand pounds. Maybe seventy-five tons, give or take, that about right?”

“Yes,” Robby said. “And I think…”

Pete interrupted—“We can get some of those Bombardier one-eighties; probably some trailers on skids too. Might get close if we all drove.” Pete counted around the table. “All of you can drive, right? Put seven of them in a convoy and run up the interstate?”

“What’s he talking about?” asked Sheila.

“Can you drive?” Pete asked her.

“Of course," Sheila said.

“Ever been on a snowmobile?” asked Pete.

“Maybe," Sheila said. “When I was a kid, I guess.”

“This is just like one of those, but much bigger,” Pete said. “It’s like a big tractor on treads. They use them to groom ski trails and such. We’re going to round up seven of them and drive a bunch of dead bodies up north.”

“But why?” asked Sheila. “You just jump in and start planning, but we don’t even know why.”

“That’s little-man’s department,” Pete said, pointing to Robby.

All eyes turned to Robby and the young man cleared his throat.

“We’re going to take back Maine,” Robby said. “And if the assumptions prove true, the whole planet.”

“Take it back from who?” asked Sheila.

“It’s my conclusion that the Earth has been impregnated with a planet-sized organism,” Robby said.

The group sat silent.

Brad looked around the table at each of the people. Ted and Pete both looked at Robby. Lisa and Romie both looked down at their laps. Sheila, her eyes twinkling in the lantern-light looked up towards the ceiling. She eventually broke the silence—“A what?”

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Brad woke up startled. His arm shot out from under the pillow, and still numb from being pinned under his head, swept the contents of his end table to the floor. He slipped out of his bed and fumbled around on the floor for the travel alarm clock. As soon as he had it in his hands, he realized it wasn’t ringing.

The sound that woke him up came from the handheld radio on top of the dresser. When it buzzed again, Brad snatched it with his good arm—the not-numb arm—and stared at it until a voice came from it.

“I’ll head over now. I’ve got some gear I can give them. It might help them out on the road," the voice said on the radio. Brad recognized the voice as Ted’s.

The travel alarm read seven, but it felt way earlier. Brad and the others had stayed up most of the night talking and planning. First coming to terms with Robby’s theories and then slowly scrutinizing his plan. They’d talked until the kerosene heaters ran out of fuel and Pete started rubbing his temples and complaining of a headache. Robby presented his evidence like a dissertation. He cited details from everyone’s personal stories. Robby’s memory was so perfect that Brad recognized the pauses and phrasing of Judy’s speech as he quoted her story. In the end, Robby’s outlandish theories seemed like a logical explanation.

Brad dressed quickly in the dawn light.
 

Luke had said he wasn’t leaving until ten, but Brad wanted to be there early so he could say farewell to everyone headed for New York. He’d just met most of them, but felt a tight bond with the other survivors. Brad made it halfway across the yard to his truck before he stopped and turned around. Up in the closet of the master bedroom, he’d stashed a bag with the few sentimental items he’d taken from his house. In addition to that stuff, he packed a couple of shirts and some socks and underpants. As he exited the Dead Ferret House this second time, he shut off the valve to the heater, drained the hose on the water keg, and stored his food supplies in the empty refrigerator.
 

“I’ll be back tonight,” he told himself, but he prepared to be away indefinitely.

At the airport, he followed the convergence of tire tracks to the staff parking lot, which sat a few hundred yards away from the modest terminal. Robby and the rest of his people parked in a line at one end. Brad left his truck parked at the curb and walked across the snow-dusted grass to where Ted and Pete stood. They watched as the travelers consolidated possessions into a few vehicles.

For the road, they’d chosen some rugged Toyota Land Cruisers. The vehicles looked several years old, but in good condition. Frank and the smelly guy were strapping fuel cans to the roof racks while other people packed their bags into the backs of the trucks.

“That’s a lot of gas for a few hundred miles,” Ted said. He didn’t direct his comment over at the vehicles, but he said it loud enough that they would hear.

“It’s heating oil,” Frank yelled back. “We’re not running off with all the gas in town.”

“What the hell do they want with that?” Ted asked, much quieter.
 

“You can run them diesel Cruisers on number two oil, if you don’t mind the red stains,” Pete said. “It’s what I’m putting in those Bombardiers.”

Aside from the Land Cruisers, Frank also packed some bags into the back seat of a four-door pickup truck. Hooked to the back of this truck sat an enormous horse trailer with its back doors standing open and its ramp extended. Brad saw that the front of the trailer was stocked with bales of hay. He also noticed the well-stocked gun rack in the back window of the truck.
 

Brad looked up at the sky. It looked like a lousy day for traveling. The clouds formed two distinct layers. Up high, it looked like the clouds were moving slowly from west to east. Lower, much closer to the ground, a spotty layer of sooty clouds moved fast from east to west. The weather had remained roughly the same every day that Brad had been in Portland. They always had clouds, and they never had any precipitation. Oppressive, impotent, charcoal-grey skies every day made him understand why so many people were choosing to go west with Luke and the promise of sunny days in a pastoral setting.

Brad saw Ted point and followed his finger to the vehicle approaching from the far side of the lot. When the car pulled up next to the closest Land Cruiser, Brad recognized Judy behind the wheel. She got out and pulled a tiny backpack from the passenger’s seat. Robby walked over and said a few words to her and then the two of them walked away from the crowd to talk in private.
 

Brad zipped up his coat and stuffed his hands in his pockets.
 

“I’m cold,” Brad said to Ted and Pete. “I’m going to see if I can help. I need to move around to warm up.”

Brad walked over to the nearest people—he didn’t remember their names—and watched them moving cases of canned goods from the back of a hatchback to the rear of a Land Cruiser.

“Hey,” he said.

The nearest guy, the one with the long beard and the red flannel jacket on over his coat, grunted.

“You need help moving stuff? I’m freezing just standing around,” Brad said.

“Then don’t,” said Beard.

“Sorry?” Brad asked.

“Nobody asked you to stand around,” said Beard. “Just be on your way.”

“Oh,” Brad said. He walked back over to where Ted and Pete were standing.

“Harris hates everyone," Ted said. “Don’t take offense.”

The three men turned their attention over to Robby, who returned to the group with Judy. Robby and Judy hugged briefly and then she got in the back seat of one of the Land Cruisers and shut the door.
 

Robby came over to Ted. "She agreed to take a radio, and she’ll stay in touch as long as she can.”

“Or as long as they let her," Ted said.

“If she decides to come back, she can use the radio to link back up with us,” Robby said.

Pete interjected—“It would be real useful if we could set up repeaters when we head north. Her radio is not going to do her much good once we’ve made some distance.”

“We’ll be back this way,” Robby said. “If she doesn’t come back, we can track her down in New York.”

“Any luck on finding out exactly where they’re going?” asked Ted.

“She didn’t know,” Robby said. “None of them seem to know for sure. Not even Frank.”

“Here comes the man who does," Ted said. He pointed his chin off to the north.

Sitting straight up with his shoulders back, Luke appeared at the far end of the parking lot riding an enormous chestnut draft horse. The horse’s blond mane fluttered back from his regal head as he trotted towards the group. Luke didn’t bounce in the saddle, but bobbed up and down with every other stride of the horse. Brad took an involuntary step backwards as the horse and rider approached. The horse seemed impossibly big as it approached.

Luke rode back and forth behind the line of cars before he edged the giant horse alongside the trailer. Luke kicked his right foot from the stirrup and swung his leg over the neck of the horse, sliding from mount facing away from the horse. He held a hand protectively on his sidearm as he dropped to the ground. Luke looped the reins over a hook on the side of the trailer and greeted the people who came to get a closer look at the horse.

Brad approached in a wide arc, careful not to step directly behind the horse. He stopped a few feet away from the horse while Luke unbuckled the saddle. Robby stepped past Brad and went to the horse’s head. He reached forward and up to stroke the horse’s nose.

“He’s beautiful. What’s his name?” Robby asked Luke.

Luke flipped the cinch over the top of the saddle and stood on his tiptoes to hook the stirrups over the horn. He pulled the saddle and blanket down into his arms.

“I call him Cincinnati," Luke said. “Pardon me.” He ducked around Robby and carried the saddle to the front of the trailer.

Several people stood on either side of the horse, but Robby was the only one close enough to touch the big animal. Luke returned with a small stepladder and a brush.

“You want to brush him out while I get the trailer ready?” Luke asked Robby.

“Sure,” Robby said with a big smile.

As Robby climbed the ladder to start at the top of the horse’s back, Brad walked back over to Ted and Pete.

“That’s one big goddamn horse,” Pete said.

“Robby likes him,” Brad said.

“Robby needed a reason to be close to Luke. I wouldn’t conclude anything other than that," Ted said.

“You know, I think I can smell the horse from here,” Pete said.

Ted raised his nose to the air and shielded his eyes while looking up. “I don’t think that’s the horse you’re smelling,” Ted said. “I think something is on fire.”

The radio clipped to Ted’s belt let out a squawk, followed by Lisa’s frantic voice. "Robby? Robby?”
 

“Lisa, this is Ted," Ted said. “What’s going on?”