Kick at the Darkness (11 page)

Blood stained Adam’s hands and flaked on his face. For a moment they could only stare at each other. Parker’s heart leapt, and he’d never been so happy to see another person in his entire life. He made a noise that was half laugh, half sob. “Adam.”

Adam was off the bike, closing the distance between them in a few seconds. He hauled Parker to his feet and took his face in his hands. “Parker.” His voice was gravelly. Then he was examining Parker’s limbs, his eyes scanning and hands surprisingly gentle. “You’re not hurt? God, you’re freezing.” He put his hand to Parker’s forehead. “But hot. Shit.”

Parker couldn’t stop shaking, but he tried to smile. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to stand without Adam holding him up. “I’m better now. How? Are you real? Am I going crazy?”

A small smile lifted Adam’s lips. “I’m real.” He exhaled heavily, his breath warm on Parker’s face. “I wasn’t sure I could find you.”

Parker wavered on his feet, and Adam gripped his upper arms. “I thought you were dead. It all happened so fast. I didn’t mean to leave you. Did you…was there anyone still…? That kid?”

Adam’s gaze dropped, and he shook his head.

“At least you tried.”

He stared intently at Parker. “Next time we have to stay together. If we can help someone we will, but we have to make sure we have a plan. I don’t want to lose you again.” He brushed back Parker’s matted hair. “Did you get wet? I lost your trail for a bit. I thought…I thought you’d been infected.”

“My trail?” Parker’s head swam.

Adam grabbed the machete from the ground and slid it onto Parker’s back before leading him to the bike. “Come on. We need gas. And you need to rest.”

Parker climbed on behind him, eager to wrap himself around Adam’s warmth. “How did you find me? It’s impossible. You drove right up to me.”

Adam turned the key, and the engine hummed to life. He was silent for a long moment. “My parents taught me to track. You left an obvious trail.”

“I did? Oh. Were they hunters?”

“Kind of. Yeah.” He gunned the engine and they were off.

When they reached a main road, it was jammed with abandoned cars—and the dead—like most of the other streets they’d seen. Adam stayed on the sidewalk, and Parker glanced left and right warily. As they passed a strip mall with a blinking neon sign, he saw a pack of infected, their clothes tattered and bloody as they surged into the store.

Farther up the road by an IHOP, he was blinking at a tangle of mauled corpses when Adam tensed.

“People.”

Parker squinted over Adam’s shoulder. Down the road, an SUV bounced over the sidewalk across the street. “Should we talk to them?”

“I guess so. Carefully.”

Adam steered onto the road, weaving between cars to get to the other side, and the SUV rolled to a stop ten feet away. Parker could see a man and a woman through the windshield, and they all watched each other uneasily. The man unrolled his window and leaned out. He wore an Oakland baseball cap and looked middle-aged. “Any news?” he asked.

“Not from the authorities. You?”

The man chewed a piece of gum. “Nope. But the word is that it’s happening up in Canada too, and down in Mexico. Don’t know about overseas.”

Parker spoke up. “It was happening in London. I don’t know about anywhere else.”

The man sighed. “Well, shit. That isn’t good.” He rubbed his face. “Heard from a guy that the army’s organizing at the base near Big Sur. We’re going to head that way and see what we can see.”

“Good to know,” Adam replied. “Anything from Moffett airfield?”

“Overrun with creepers.”

Creepers
. Sounded about right. “Do you know what the hell this is?” Parker asked, his voice scratchy and weak.

The brunette woman leaned out her window. “Wish we knew, kid. Never thought I’d see the day those stupid zombie movies Dave loves became real life.”

The man—Dave, presumably—barked out a laugh. “And aren’t you glad now I paid attention. We’re still alive, which is more than I can say for most. Population seems to have been decimated practically overnight. Whatever this thing is, it’s goddamn effective. You guys keeping the lights off?”

Adam nodded. “Attracts them.”

“I don’t think they like water either,” Parker added. “They were right on my tail, but when I fell into the pool, they kept going and forgot about me.”

“Handy to know,” Dave replied. He tipped the brim of his cap. “Good luck to you.”

“And you.” Adam nodded.

They went their separate ways, and Parker’s mind whirled. “You think it’s true about the army?”

“Maybe.” Adam pointed. “Gas station.”

“Think we should follow them?” Parker coughed violently, shivering.

Adam pulled into the gas station, which was jam-packed with abandoned vehicles. He skirted around the edge of the lot and pulled up as close to the pumps as he could. “I don’t know. You need to rest, and we don’t know if we can trust them.”

Fat, cold drops of rain began to fall. “Do you think the rain will affect them? The infected, I mean.”

“Maybe?” Adam answered. “Let’s not wait around to find out. We should get some more supplies while we’re here.”

Parker stumbled off the bike, and Adam put the nozzle in the tank. He pressed a few buttons, but nothing happened. Then he barked out a laugh and took out his wallet. He swiped a credit card, and the gas began to flow. “Guess we still have to pay for gas.”

Parker smiled, but it faded quickly. “What happens when there’s no more power? Will gas pumps still work?”

Adam frowned. “I don’t think so. Let’s check the garage for a hose. We’ll have to siphon once the power goes everywhere.”

“Because it will. It’s only a matter of time, isn’t it?” The world they’d always known was vanishing. Was already gone.

Adam didn’t reply. They both knew the answer.

Up on a craggy mound in the foothills that night, they found a little cave with enough overhanging rock to keep off the rain. Adam parked the motorcycle while Parker huddled on the ground.

“I’ll be fine soon.” His throat felt like he’d swallowed razor blades. “Should we go to Big Sur?”

“We’ll see.” Adam eased the pack from Parker’s shoulders and soon covered him with a weatherproof heat blanket they’d grabbed at the sporting goods store. He pressed the back of his hand to Parker’s forehead, and then eased up his head. “More cough syrup. I think antibiotics would do you more good, but this is all we have.” He filled the plastic measuring cup and tilted it to Parker’s lips.

Parker winced at the sickening cherry syrup, but swallowed it all before flopping back. “In a few hours, I’ll be fine,” he mumbled. His tongue was thick, and his head pounded.

Adam folded a sweatshirt under Parker’s head and tucked the blanket around him. “Okay. Just sleep now.”

“Uh-huh.” Parker wanted to say more, but he was so cold, and he drew himself into a ball. He’d tell Adam later.

It was cold, and wet, but so hot. Parker kicked at his blankets. Why was his hip so sore? He struggled onto his other side. The mattress was hard, and he couldn’t stop shivering. Everything hurt.
Mom
. Why wasn’t she there? Was he at school? Jason would call her. She’d come.

Someone was pulling at him, and he wanted them to stop. A low voice told him to hold still, but he thrashed his arms and legs. His feet were cold, but the rest of him was too hot. Where was he? He tried to open his eyes, and saw a flash of gold before he went under again.

Oh God, they were after him. He was trying to run, but his legs kept folding beneath him. He got up again, staggering, and he sprawled out. They swarmed over him, all teeth and eyes and sharp fingernails, and they tore him open.

Then he was one of them, and he was choking on blood and someone’s guts.

He was in the pool again, and he was drowning. The infected were toppling in over him, and he thrashed, struggling for the surface, a cry stuck in his throat. Why did it hurt so much? He could barely swallow.

Then he was on the Cape, and it was summer, and the sun beamed overhead, and everything was good. Everything was
perfect
. He and Eric were diving off the boat, the last week of vacation before Eric went to college and Parker started Westley.

“Think there’s any buried treasure down there?” Parker sat on the side of the sailboat, his feet dangling over the edge.

“Sure, squirt. Didn’t you ever hear about the Damned Manta?” Eric plopped down beside him and shook his hair, water flying off the golden strands.

Droplets sprayed Parker’s bare, sun-warmed chest. His trunks were still wet since he never spent long enough out of the water for them to fully dry. “Uh-uh. Tell me!”

Eric gazed at him thoughtfully and lowered his voice. “I guess you’re old enough to hear it.”

“Of course I am!” Eric was four years older, and thought he knew
everything
. Parker wasn’t a stupid baby anymore.

“All right, I’ll tell you. But you have to swear to keep it secret.”