Fade to Grey (Book 2): Darkness Ascending (67 page)

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” Michelle said as she
stirred a package of ranch and salsa instant rice into the pot of water.

Her father had several dozen cases of bottled water stacked
against the wall in the kitchen, but his food supply was just about as scarce
as ours. In the end, we settled for a family sized box of macaroni and cheese
and the instant rice. Faith was already happily munching the mac and cheese. Michelle’s
mother had woken out of her stupor long enough to get a few spoonfuls of the
overcooked yellow pasta down as well. Her father had refused everything,
preferring to chain smoke as we ate.

I turned down the flame on my rocket stove, covered
the rice, and then powered up Michelle’s iPad. My index finger swiped the
screen and brought up one of the satellite images we had transferred to her
tablet from my mapping program. “When you zoom in close enough, you can see
different businesses classified by little icons. Banks are little green circles
with a dollar sign in them, restaurants are orange triangles overlaid by
something that I guess is supposed to be a fork and knife . . . churches are
white squares with a cross in them—you get the idea. The last time I updated
this mapping quad was about six months ago, so it should be fairly accurate.”

I skewed the iPad sideways so Michelle and her dad
could get a better look. They both nodded, so I zoomed the map even closer.
“Blue diamonds indicated medical facilities of some kind. Not only hospitals,
but also medical clinics, outpatient fast track facilities, doctors’ offices,
and pharmacies. Devils Lake,” I continued, “has one small hospital—more of a
large medical clinic. It also has an urgent care facility that’s run by a
conglomeration of doctors when they’re not working at the hospital or out on
the lake fishing. Other than that, there’s maybe a dozen individual medical
buildings. Most of them are small from what I remember, with maybe two or three
specialists sharing the cost for office space. Then you have the pharmacies. By
my count, Devils Lake has seven of them. Of the seven, five are located inside
larger stores like the food marts or the supercenter. The other two are the big
name chain stores.” I pulled back the tablet and set it on my lap.

“I’m not gonna tell you what to do Eric, but you’ve
got to know that the town is lost. Those things are probably everywhere,
especially where the large concentrations of people would have gone, like the
hospital and the grocery stores.” An exhalation of harsh cigarette smoke
accompanied the “I’m not gonna tell you” start of his speech.

I nodded, and he continued—this time without first
sucking in a reload of nicotine. “All of those stores that might have carried
Lynn’s medication have probably been looted days ago. Don’t forget, I’ve been
in war zones and watched what happens firsthand when people panic or revolt.”
He pointed at the map that was still displayed on the iPad screen. “Besides,
almost everything in Devils Lake is right on the main drag. That’s bound to be
crawling with those freaks.”

“I know,” I said.

Michelle’s face might as well have been chiseled out
of stone as she listened.

“Then you’re an idiot for thinking you can just waltz
right in there and pick up a refill from the pharmacy. You’ll die, and nothing
about that will help Lynn . . . or Michelle. The best thing to do is to just
let her keep taking them sleeping pills,” he nodded towards the covered figure
on the sofa’s mattress, “and maybe she’ll pass quietly.”

“I don’t intend to go into town,” I said.

Both Michelle and her dad turned my way.

“Well then you ain’t getting no medicine, Eric.”
Another puff of smoke accompanied his reply.

Michelle laid her hand on top of mine and squeezed.
“What are you talking about?” she asked.

“When your dad told me about Lynn’s condition, it
brought back the memory of a conversation I’d had with my regional supervisor
about a year ago. He had a Great Dane with a heart defect. I recommended the
same veterinarian that works with Max, and even went with him on the first
visit to kind of break the ice. My vet is a good guy, but I’m almost positive
he likes animals more than people. Anyhow, he put the dog on a medicine that I
was ninety-nine percent sure is the same stuff your mom’s on. To fill in the
other one percent, I needed to check one of the books on your tablet. It’s a
veterinarian’s guide you downloaded from somewhere, and FYI, it lists the same
drug that Lynn’s on in the pharmacology for cardiovascular issues. Anyhow, I
even remember asking my vet something about it, because some of the potential
side effects seemed pretty harsh, but he said that they use it all the time in
dogs, horses, and get this—bison.”

Michelle's eyebrows arched, but she said nothing. She
was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Yeah . . . bison. North Dakota’s most famous resident
and the model for the twenty-five foot tall statue in Jamestown.” I added the
color commentary, but it was unnecessary since both Michelle and I had grown up
in Jamestown and knew about the world’s largest bison tourist attraction. “Anyway
. . . apparently a lot of larger dog species are prone to heart arrhythmias.”

“So you’re thinking that you might be able to find
this medicine at a veterinarian’s office?” Michelle's dad asked.

I nodded.

“Well then you’re screwed just as bad, because the
only one I know about is right in the middle of town in a little strip mall
between the elementary school and the grain seed processing plant.”

I shook my head and queued up the map from the
screensaver that had taken over. “No, you’re wrong.” I pointed to the map and
zoomed in, focusing my attention on Michelle. “Do you remember the little road
we crossed underneath by the ranger station?”

“Highway 19, right?”

“Yep. If you keep heading east on 19, it will run you
straight into the town of Devils Lake, right where it merges with U.S. Route 2.
However . . .,” I tapped at the map, “just before it gets into town, you’ll
pass the small regional airport on the left. The next road that you come to on
the right—maybe a quarter mile further—leads you south for a few hundred yards
before it tees off to the lemna plant.”

“The what?”

“The lemna plant. It’s basically a whole bunch of
interconnected waterways designed in a grid system. It uses natural plant life
like duckweed to decontaminate wastewater before it’s released into the lake.”

“OK . . . so . . .?” I could see the frustration
beginning to set in her eyes.

“So,” I continued, “if you go the other way at the
tee, it will dump you almost immediately into the DLAC—the Devils Lake Animal
Clinic. It’s a pretty big veterinary outfit. I think they have six doctors and
at least twice that number of techs, because a most of their business is geared
towards large animals like cattle and horses, and they do a lot of out calls at
farms and ranches. But . . . they also work with dogs and cats.”

“How’d you find them . . . on that computer?” More
smoke drifted up to join the thunderhead hovering just below the stained
ceiling tiles.

“No. Last summer we rescued a baby moose whose mother
had been hit by a coal truck. The cow had been dead for several days, but the
calf was still hanging around and looked like it had an injured leg, so we
tranq’d it and made a call to the state specialist. He recommended this place,
and we were pretty close so we took it over.”

“And you think this vet office will have Lynn’s
medicine?” Another dragon breath joined the cloud.

“Can I be one hundred percent? No. But I’m positive the
same prescription that she’s on is the same one that they used for the Great
Dane. Also, this place is kind of out of the way . . . it’s not in the middle
of town like all the other pharmacies. There’s a sign up by the road, but it’s
underneath the one that says ‘water treatment plant.’ As a matter of fact, I
remember them telling me to look for the water treatment sign. The other thing
to consider is that this place is pretty big, relatively speaking, and with so
many vets working out of it, they probably have to stockpile a good amount of
various medicines.”

“And how will you get there, Eric? I don’t have a car,
and that wouldn’t be very safe anyhow.”

“That’s the beauty of this plan. I’d get there the
same way I got here. I just need to backtrack about twenty miles and turn into
Creel Bay. The lemna plant dumps in to the upper end of the bay. There’s not a
dock there; it’s a restricted fishing area for a half mile out so they can
monitor water quality, but I can beach the boat literally 300 yards from the
vet office.”

*click*

And that, dear listeners, is how I ended up
here—trapped in the shampoo and grooming room at the veterinarian’s office with
only two bullets left. I can still hear some scuttling from outside. They saw
me. They know where I am. She knows where I am. And it’s only a matter of time
before death is going to find me . . . . . . . . . . . only it won’t be wearing
robes and caring a scythe. It will be in the form of that beautiful bitch with
midnight black eyes. I should eat a bullet and save her the trouble. I’m
signing off for now. Maybe forever. Bye.

*click*

OK, I’m not dead yet. And I found a light. Well, a
cell phone with the battery about half charged. It was in the pocket of a dead
girl crumpled in the back corner of the room. I just about crapped my pants
when I stumbled into her body in the dark. Anyhow, her name was Austine, at
least if the name tag on her lab coat was correct. The clock on the phone reads
4:15 AM, and if the increase in grunting and snarls from the outside are any
indication, I’ll probably be dead before sunrise. The good news, if there is
any, is that the room I stumbled into doesn’t have any windows to the outside.
Just the door I came through from the hallway. I’ve got it partially blocked
with some aluminum rolling tables, but they won’t really serve as an effective
barricade. Heck, I can’t even remember if the door opens inward or outward.
Wouldn’t that be just great? I’d get up to heaven and the angels would be
laughing and pointing me, and underneath their breath I’d hear, “that’s the guy
that piled up the tables in front of a door that opened the other direction.” I
don’t care . . . OK, that’s a lie. I’m just so tired of fighting at every turn
. . . and I wish Max was here. OK, that’s another lie, kind of. I mean, I miss
my buddy and wish I could just bury my face in his stinky fur, but on the other
hand, if he was here that would just be another death on my conscience. We’d
put up a hell of a fight though. While I’m riding the wish train, I might as
well ask for some blueberry muffins. I’ve probably got just about the same
chance of getting those. Shit. I got to think of something.

*click*

OK, the clock now reads 4:24 AM, so it’s been what,
nine minutes since my last update? I’m still alive. I heard a couple gunshots
not too far away, but other than that it’s been quiet. Too quiet. I hope you
can hear me, because I’m whispering pretty low. I guess I should tell you how I
got here. There’s not a whole lot to it, actually . . .

“You’re making me . . . no, let me change that . . . you’re
forcing
me to choose between you and my mother.”

I said nothing. There was nothing I could say.
Michelle was, in her own way of justification, correct.

“And I don’t like either choice,” she finished.

“I don’t either,” I said quietly.

“Then don’t go.”

“Michelle, we’ve been down this road about a hundred
times. Your mom is going to die without that medication. Maybe not today, but
maybe tomorrow, or next week. She’s certainly not able to travel, and even if
she was I highly doubt that my uncle, or Walter, or even Doc Collins has any of
that medication handy. Don’t get me wrong, I think this whole thing sucks. But
we have a window of opportunity here that won’t stay open for long.”

“Then take me with you.”

I shook my head again and looked at the mound
underneath the sleeping bag. The macaroni and cheese had practically knocked
her out, and she was snoring lightly, her tiny left arm tightly curled around a
lifelike plush rabbit. Well, lifelike if you discounted the pastel yellow
pajamas it wore. “You know why you can’t go.”

Michelle looked at Faith, and then sighed deeply. “She
has your eyes, you know.”

“She has your hair . . . and smile,” I returned.

Michelle’s stunningly green eyes, made even brighter
by the frequent baths of tears throughout the morning, turned towards me. “When
are you leaving?” Her voice was muted and distant.

“In about an hour. I’m going to go ahead and switch to
the night scope on the .22, and then I’ll sight it in from one of the upstairs
windows. I’m leaving both AR’s here with you . . . I won’t need one.” I patted
the pistol in my thigh rig. “I’ll have my CZ as backup.”

“What if you get there and the place is overrun by
ghouls?”

“Then I don’t even land. I’ll just turn the boat
around and come back.”

She was quiet at my answer, so I kept talking. “It’s
going to be about twenty miles or so to the lemna station, and I want to do
that just before dark so I won’t have to navigate anything but the final mile
or so with night vision. In any event, without any repeaters functioning we
won’t have radio contact, so don’t even try because I’ll be too far away. And
that brings me to my last point. Your dad has a map of Devils Lake on the wall
downstairs. If I don’t come back within about six hours or so, well then, you
need to get Faith out of here. Wait for daylight and then take your dad’s jon
boat—he said there’s plenty of gas and it will run—and head over to the lemna
station. Don’t land or try to come after me! Just switch into the patrol boat
and try to make it back to my truck. Don’t forget to pick up the other bass
boat . . . and be careful around that low bridge on 281.”

“You’re talking like you already know that you won’t
be back.” It was said with the beginnings of a fresh tear.

“That’s not what I’m saying at all. I just want you to
realize that if something does happen, you need to get back to the marina.”

Michelle rocked to her knees and slid over to me. Her
arms wrapped around my shoulders and she pulled me tight, burying her face against
my chest to muffle the quiet sobs. I returned the embrace and held on—lost in
the whirlwind of emotions as the rhythm of our breathing began to slow, and
then balance, and then become one. We stayed frozen against each other for at
least fifteen minutes, and then Michelle wrapped her fingers around the back of
my neck, pushing her lips to mine. The passion in her kiss was unmistakable,
but it wasn’t alone. There was also sadness and hope . . . love and fear . . .
. . . and goodbye. Her thumb moved to my cheek and wiped away a tear. I’m not
sure whose it was.

“Eric,” she said, forcing a partial smile to emerge,
“I love you. Come back to me soon, OK?”

“I will.”

“Be careful.”

I caught a halfhearted attempt at a wink with her ‘be
careful.’ I leaned down and kissed her hard, pulling away after too short of a
time before returning her wink. “Don’t worry,” I said.