Extinct (35 page)

“Oh, so we’re taking as gospel the word of a whole lot of scientists not smart enough to survive the apocalypse? We’re the ones who got through it. Doesn’t our survival give our opinions just a tad more weight?” she asked. She didn’t wait for a reply. “So I think the kid is right. This thing he’s talking about has tried to take the Earth before. The birds ain’t coming back, because they’re all dead. Maybe there’s a couple around, like us.”

“Or like Luke’s horse?” Brad asked.

“If you ask me, I wish Luke hadn’t made the cut,” she said. “He strikes me as a jackass.”

When they got to the back of the moving van, they didn’t bother to engage the lift-gate; the guy was too small to bother. They moved into their positions and swung the man like a hammock: one, two, three times. On the third, they both let go and his stiff body skidded quickly to a stop in the bed of the van. Brad jumped up to drag the corpse towards the front of the vehicle with the other bodies. When they had a few more up there, Romie would clamber up to help him stack.

“So everything is dead, right?” she asked, but didn’t really ask. “At least everything that used to move around is. Seems to have left all the plants. I wonder if there are any fish left. But how long are the plants going to last if there aren’t any animals around? I mean, maybe the plants don’t really care about animals, but the bugs, they must need the bugs to pollinate all the flowers. That’s how they reproduce, right? So maybe we make it until summer, then the grocery stores start to run out of food, and then we’re done.”

“There aren’t very many of us,” Brad said. “I don’t think the grocery stores are going to run out of canned goods.”

“Yeah, but we can only get to so many of them,” Romie said. “There’s too much snow up north, and worse things down south.”

Brad jumped back down to the pavement and scanned around the parking lot. They’d grabbed the body of the clerk and the one shopper they’d found in the convenience store, and the few cars around them were tapped out.

“Plus,” she continued, “who knows what kind of climate changes we can expect going forward. Are we even going to have seasons anymore? If all the plants die, will we have oxygen?”

“Romie?” Brad asked.

“You know, Robby is relying on that thing not even being aware of us. What did he say? When a bird makes a nest in a tree, do you think it’s aware of the bacteria living on the branches?” she asked.

“Romie?” he asked again.

“What?” she asked.

“Do you have any ideas of where we could hunt for more bodies? Or should we just start going door-to-door?” Brad asked.

“Yeah—Chinese place over near the mall,” she said.

“You sure? Everyone died on Thanksgiving. Do people go for Chinese food on Thanksgiving?” Brad asked.

“Any holiday,” she replied. “I bet there’s thirty of them over there. Let’s go.”

Brad rolled down the cargo door and climbed back into the cab. Romie was already strapping herself in.

“So what do you think of his theories?” she asked Brad as he started the engine.

“Who? Robby?” Brad asked. He knew what she was talking about but the question just fell out of his mouth. He was shocked she actually asked him a question that she expected an answer to.

“Yes, Robby,” she said. “Who else?”

“He certainly presented a compelling case,” Brad said. “There’s no real way to verify some of what he said. A lot of it was based on the interpretation of those runes he found in a basement. When I looked at those things there was definitely something interesting going on. It made me feel fuzzy just to look at the symbols.”

“Hmmm, yeah, well…” Romie started, but Brad cut her off for once.

“And the fourth dimension stuff seems a little outlandish. I’m an engineer and a software architect. Spatial reasoning and higher math are not foreign to me at all, but I’ve always been taught that
time
is the fourth dimension. He said these things can move through three-dimensional space without continuity because they exist in four or more dimensions,” Brad said as he slowed for a stop sign. He knew he shouldn’t bother to heed the sign, but it was hard to break the habit.

“I remember,” agreed Romie.

“So it would be like if you or I were interacting with creatures that lived on a sheet of paper. We could pick up and move to a different spot and they’d be oblivious to how it happened. Robby says that’s how these creatures manage space travel. For them, all the points in the universe are essentially connected through the higher dimensions,” Brad said. He glanced over at Romie, who was looking straight ahead. He continued—“I guess I can visualize that, but it seems like if that’s the case, we would have had contact with them before.”

Now Romie spoke up. "Exactly. He said we
have
had contact before. We just didn’t recognize it, or it was too long ago. Their idea of an hour or a year might not be the same as ours. What if they don’t live from one moment to the next?”

“I suppose,” Brad said.

“But you didn’t answer my question—what do you think of his theories? Like about how to drive this thing off?” she asked.

“Well, I guess to me it’s the same question,” Brad said. “If he’s right about the extra-dimensional beings and the planet-wide organism, then he may very well be right about the immune response of dumping a thousand bodies into the embryo. No way to tell except giving it a try, you know?”

“That’s exactly how I feel," Romie said. “I believe him. I just wish we didn’t have to go a hundred miles north to test it out.”

“I’m not sure I’d go that far,” Brad said.

“What? Not all the way to Augusta?” asked Romie.

“No, no, it’s just that you said you believe him,” Brad said.

“And I do," Romie said. “He’s a trustworthy kid.”

“Yes he’s trustworthy,” Brad said, “but I’m thinking that
if
he’s right about the planet-wide organism,
then
dumping bodies into it might be the appropriate thing to do.”

“But you’re not convinced?” asked Romie.

“Not entirely, no,” Brad said.

“Take a right up here. It’s faster," Romie said.

They bounced along in silence for a little while. Every so often, usually during a turn, they could hear the bodies shift around in the back of the truck. Romie guided Brad to pull up next to a giant restaurant. He backed the rear of the truck up near the doors and they climbed out.

Romie opened the front door of the restaurant and held it open until Brad dragged a sign with a metal base over to prop it open. They repeated the process with the interior door. This time Brad used a chair. Romie strapped on a headlamp and started off to the right, but Brad just stood there at the door. He didn’t like the way the light from the doors seemed to die out so quickly.

The restaurant was huge and almost industrial-looking to Brad. The red and purple swirls of the carpet were probably designed to hide stains, but they also confused Brad’s eyes. The panels of the high drop-ceiling looked dusty and old, even from a distance.

“Come on," Romie said from her little pool of light, “there are two over here.”

Brad put on his own headlamp and joined his partner.

“Let’s get this fat one first," Romie said. “I swear my back’s never going to make it to the end of the day.”

Romie flipped up the tablecloth and grabbed the man’s ankles while Brad worked his hands into the man’s armpits. They lifted at the same time and started a slow shuffle towards the door. The guy looked fat, but he wasn’t too heavy. Brad and Romie had no trouble getting him to the lift-gate. With him loaded, they went back for the woman at the table.
 

“I used to come
at least
once a month,” Romie said as they slung the woman up into the bed of the truck. “It’s a pretty good value if you stay long enough.”

“Why?” Brad asked. The lady-corpse had long hair, and Brad had already stepped on it twice. He dragged her to the front of the truck by her feet so it fanned out behind her.

“Value? Because they only bring out the good stuff once every couple of hours. Crab legs? Forget it. You have to be here for a while before you’re going to see any of those. It’s like they know I’m coming and they only bring out the good stuff just before I show up. It’s all gone by the time I get my seat," Romie said.

They followed their headlamps back inside, past the table where they’d found the first couple. Romie walked between two long buffet stations and then stopped. Brad almost ran into her back.

“Something’s been here,” she said. Her voice was low—nearly a whisper.

“Like what? An animal?” Brad asked.

“You tell me," Romie said. She turned to the side so Brad could see. In front of her, on the floor, sat a rough pile of chicken wings. Next to those, Brad saw several egg rolls littered on the carpet. Romie scanned the big room with her headlamp, but the meager light couldn’t reveal much of the room. Romie dug around in her pocket and pulled out a little flashlight. That was better, but Brad didn’t see much more than round tables to the left and square ones to the right.
 

He looked back to where the door stood out as a bright white rectangle of light. Suddenly those dozen paces seemed far away.

“Let’s hurry up so we can get out of here," Romie said.

Brad slipped between two of the buffet units and crossed the walkway to the tables. Before rounding the first table, he tripped and landed on his hands and knees. Looking back, he saw black pants and a white jacket—he’d tripped over a fallen waiter. The waiter’s outstretched arm offered a pitcher of spilled water.

“I got one here on the floor,” Brad said to Romie, who stopped on the far side of the table.

Brad flipped the waiter’s torso and grabbed him under the armpits. He glanced down at the face and then looked away, but the image burned into his vision. The corpse’s eyes had exploded just like the rest, but he had no sign of gore on his cheeks. The waiter had big, white teeth though. He had a rack of giant, white, piano-key teeth. When Romie finally lifted the waiter’s dead legs, Brad got up the nerve to look back down. His lips were missing—that’s why Brad could see the corpse’s teeth so well. Something had taken the lips and part of the cheek. The edge of the wound was jagged, but clean. No blood or gore stained the rest of the skin.

Romie let out a yelp and dropped the legs. The body slumped and tugged on Brad’s shoulders, but he kept his grip. At least he kept it until he looked where Romie’s headlamp was pointing. She was staring at the corpse’s groin. There, the black pants had been pulled down a bit. The waiter’s white skin nearly matched the tone of the white jacket he wore. In the low light, Brad understood why neither of them had noticed earlier. But in the groin area, the white ended. There Brad could see the stringy, shiny edges of muscle where the skin and sex organs had been removed.
 

Brad dropped the corpse’s shoulders and backed up.

“There’s something in here with us,” Romie whispered. She whipped her headlamp around the room.

“Over here,” Brad said. “We’ll go together. Back-to-back.”

Romie stepped over the mutilated corpse and joined Brad. They matched steps and moved towards the door.

Brad saw the shadow first. When Brad stopped moving behind her, Romie turned her head and saw it too. Something standing just to the right of the doors cast a fuzzy shadow on the pavement between the restaurant and the truck. Brad thought about the gun tucked safely in the glove compartment of the truck.

“Out the back?” Brad whispered.

“Fuck that," Romie said.

As if they’d agreed, they resumed moving towards the doors. Brad scanned the area surrounding the door for anything he could use as a weapon. He found nothing. Brad led the way and the two side-stepped through the doors. Outside, a short, stocky man stood a couple of paces from the back of the truck.

“Hello?” Brad asked.

The man didn’t reply. He flipped his bangs to the side, reached up with a grimy finger and rubbed his teeth. Romie passed behind Brad and moved towards the driver’s side of the truck as the two men stared at each other. Brad lost the staring contest. His eyes darted to his right, to the gaping black hole that was the entrance to the Chinese restaurant.

“Can I help you?” Brad asked.

“What are you doing?” the man asked. His voice was so low that Brad could barely hear him. He slurred the four words together into one.

Brad took a second to reply. “We’re clearing out the bodies,” he said, gesturing to the back of the truck.

“For whom?” asked the man.

“What’s your name?” Brad asked. “My name is Brad.”

“And I’m Romie,” she said. She circled around the truck and around the dirty man. Brad spotted the handgun she held at her side.

They waited for the man’s response. His eyes seemed to take inventory of the scene, darting around from place to place, again and again.
 

“Nate,” he said, finally.

“Nice to meet you, Nate,” Brad said. “Are you here alone? I mean, do you live with anyone else.”

“Yes,” Nate said.

“Which?” Brad asked.

Nate shook his head from side to side violently. He shook it so hard that Brad could hear the man’s cheeks flapping against his teeth. Romie took a half step back but kept the gun pointed only at the pavement.

“I’m sorry,” Nate said. “It’s been a long time since I’ve talked to anyone. I must look like a crazy person.”

“No,” Brad said, “not at all. But you did startle us a bit because we only saw your shadow at first.”

“Sorry,” Nate said. “You never answered my question—for whom are you clearing out the bodies?”

“Oh,” Brad said. “I don’t know. I mean, we’re clearing them out for everyone, I guess. We thought it would be…” he trailed off, not knowing how much he should tell the dirty man.

“Respectful," Romie said from her position. She kept her distance. Brad moved a little closer to Nate as they talked.

“Yes, that’s a good word for it,” Brad said. “It’s the least we could do.”

“I’m not sure I understand the point,” Nate said.

Romie and Brad exchanged a glance.

“Maybe we should be on our way,” Brad said. “I’m guessing we’ll see you around.”