The Dark Trilogy (70 page)

“Their kids. What happened to their kids?”

“Oh. I don’t know. Angela didn’t say. God, I hope they’re okay. But with all the crazies around here, I hate to imagine.”

George nodded, even though Helen couldn’t see it. He knew what she was talking about. The panic was palpable, thick in the air. The nutjobs weren’t only in his neighborhood; they were everywhere. Running around on the streets spouting tales of doom or spreading chaos, using the approaching storm as an excuse to do horrible things. It was like the LA riots from the early nineties magnified a thousand times over.

Yesterday, when he had arrived in Gallatin, half the staff of the company he was working with was out sick. The Operations Manager had rolled his eyes as he told him about it. More likely they were playing hooky, using the worldwide mass hysteria as an excuse. His comment was, “Once this blows over, they’ll be back, embarrassed they got so freaked out.”

This morning, George awoke to the sounds of sirens and fire trucks, bullhorns and helicopters. The local news teams were going nuts, reporting on flash fires and random acts of violence, not only in the city, but in the suburbs as well. The National Guard had been called in, and they were working with the local authorities to restore peace. Rumors had it that the virus had touched down all over the region. There were unconfirmed reports of infections in Cincinnati and Dayton, as well as Columbus. The government would neither confirm nor deny any of it, simply saying that they were on high alert and everyone in the medical community, both domestically and internationally, was focused on finding a rapid cure.

“Helen, are you okay?” He was getting nervous. It was not just breathing he could hear; it was something else. The hairs stood up on the back of his neck. Helen was crying. She was trying to hold it back, but he could hear it over the hiss of the cellular connection.

“I’m scared, George.”

The words were a whisper. They stopped George, froze his lips shut. Helen rarely cried and never said she was scared.

“I don’t know what to do. You’re not here, and Angela told me she and Hank are going to take the kids and head down to Lake Cumberland. Roxy and Deb are flipping out. It’s all happening so fast, I feel like I’m losing my mind …”

George was antsy about everything he had seen and heard in Gallatin since arriving … and now his wife was telling him it was just as bad up in Wildwood. He’d called in to Raynor, the company with which he was contracted, at eight that morning, and there had been no answer. After three failed attempts to reach anyone, George left a message on the operations manager’s voice mail, telling the man to call him on his cell. It was ten now, and there had been no call.

“Angela told me we could come with her-”

“NO!”

George was startled by his own vehement response. Angela and Hank, their next-door neighbors, were good friends of the family. Their youngest daughter was Deb’s age, so they had spent plenty of time together.

“Look, I … I know things are screwed up right now. I know that! But I’ll get back home, sweetie. I promise.”

“But the roads are already being shut down, George! It’s on the news. Time is running out. Hank knows a lot of back roads, and they have the camper. You could head down that way-”

“No, no, no. Please listen to me! It’s dangerous out there. Way too dangerous for you to be bumming a ride with our neighbors. You know those lunatics attacking people in the neighborhood? Imagine what it’s like out on highways. Even on the ‘back roads’ Hank knows. People are desperate, Helen. Desperate and dangerous.”

The words spilled out of George’s mouth at a rapid clip, and he was surprised at the level of derision in his voice when he mentioned Hank’s name. The man was a friend, but all George could feel was anger and distrust toward him, as if his neighbor were trying to steal his family away.

A headache settled in behind his eyes as he tried to calm down. George was frightening himself with his words and couldn’t imagine what they were doing to his wife. But he couldn’t stop. He could feel his family slipping away.

“Don’t go. I’m begging you, Helen. Please don’t leave! I’ll get back to you, I swear to God.”

“Don’t you dare blaspheme, George Montgomery. Not even now!”

George’s tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth for a moment. The abrupt criticism was a sharp slap. It was a reprimand only his wife would use at a time like this. Before he knew it, a grin was creeping onto his face. That was Helen for you.

There was a pause in the conversation, as there always was after a stern reprimand. George knew Helen was composing herself, probably running her fingers through her fiery red hair. It was a habit she didn’t realize she had. There would be a tilt of her head, then she would latch on to a few strands and run them between her fingers. Once she was done, it was as if all was right with the world again.

“So what do you suggest we do?”

George slumped back onto the hotel bed. His breathing felt less constricted, and the stiffness in his neck was loosening.

“Stay in the house—hear me out, please! I know everything is crazy around there, but it’s no better anywhere else. The world is … I don’t know a better way to put it than that it’s falling apart. I know you’re scared. I’m sure the girls are too. I sure as hell know I am. So the last thing you need to be doing right now is wandering around trying to find some other place to hide when your best bet is to stay right where you are.”

Helen was quiet once again, digesting what her husband had said.

“You only have to hole up until I get back home. Just a few days and we can figure out together what we should do. We’ll take the Explorer and go wherever you want. Hopefully things will have settled down by then.”

“I thought you said everything was falling apart.”

“I did. I don’t really know what to think right now. All I know is that it’s dangerous out there, and there’s only one place I know I can find you. Not in some cabin at Lake Cumberland, and not on some dirt road out in the sticks.”

George heard his wife exhale. She still wasn’t certain, but she knew that his position made sense.

“There’s enough food and water to last you a month or more, not that I think it will come to that. There are some boards out in the garage … now I know you won’t like putting big holes in the walls, but just to be safe-”

George regretted the words as soon they were out of his mouth. He felt like slamming his fist into his forehead and cursing his stupidity as he gritted his teeth and closed his eyes.

“You know I will. I’m out of here in one hour. I should have never come here in the first place. You were right. It might take me a while, but you know it’s not far. I might have to take one or two back roads myself, but I will make it back to you.”

“Promise me, George. Promise us.”

“I promise, Helen. You and the girls. Tell them Daddy will be home soon.”

Two minutes later, they were still saying goodbye. George was afraid to lose the connection, because getting one again was iffy at best, but Helen had to go. She was already talking about how she and the girls were going to board up the doors and windows to the house. She had to tell Angela they would not be coming with them and say their goodbyes. Toward the end, Helen’s voice sounded almost normal. She had an agenda, a purpose. Helen was not helpless; she was taking charge of the situation, which was when she was at her best.

As he hung up, George stepped over to the window, pushing the heavy drapery aside and peering down at the parking lot. He had no idea how many cars would normally be at the hotel on a weekday midmorning, but was certain it was typically more than the three he currently saw. There were muffled sounds coming from the street, from the opposite side of the building—more bullhorns and sirens. George tried to ignore them as he gazed at the green Explorer. It was parked in the spot next to the hotel exit.

He turned and moved over to the dresser, opening the drawers and pulling out the small amount of clothes he had in them, shoving them in the suitcase sitting on the end of the bed. As he packed, George whistled.

Five minutes later, just as he was about to leave, he heard a loud knocking at the door.

***

Now … August 13
^th

George could hear the crickets outside the car. It was dark, the starlight casting a delicate glow that showed him the path he needed to take. He found a flashlight in the glove compartment—a gift from Ben that would come in handy. He covered the light with his hand as he flipped it on to make sure it worked. The red ring that formed on his palm confirmed that it did, and he switched the flashlight off.

He had been hiding in the park near his house for several hours, waiting for darkness to fall. After seeing what had happened in Willowsburg, he was relieved to see that his hometown of Wildwood hadn’t burnt to the ground, even though it was full of the infected. His arrival had stirred up plenty of the stiffs, and he’d been forced to drive up and down a variety of residential streets for over an hour, in an effort to confuse as many of the ghouls as possible. When he was certain that most of them were clumped together behind the Corsica, he sped up and easily eluded their pursuit, leaving them confused and frustrated and, most importantly, out of his way.

He then drove toward his neighborhood and stopped at a small park a little over a block from his house. It appeared abandoned, the swing sets and picnic tables standing solitary sentinel against the madness of the outside world. George pulled off the grass and into a small stand of trees as he waited for the undead townsfolk he’d stirred up with his arrival to settle back down.

He could almost see his house from where he was parked. Being this close after all this time and not being able to return home immediately was agony. But George knew he needed the cover of night to hide his movements.

When it grew dark outside, he opened the car door, leaving the keys in the ignition. He shut it fast so the dome light wouldn’t advertise his presence. Waiting, he listened for the sound of footsteps on the plush grass and heard none. He felt a prickle of fear, but did his best to brush it aside. His long journey was almost finished.

George looked out across the park toward the houses in the distance. He saw no movement in the starlit night. The infected were not the only creatures he feared. His neighborhood had been filled with plenty of pets. He figured most were dead, eaten by their ravenous masters, but was sure a few had escaped that fate and had gone feral, scrounging for food wherever they could find it. Images of wild packs of dogs floated through his mind.

George clenched his fists and shook his head. It was a stupid thing to worry about. No stray dog was going to keep him from his family. He would stay quiet and stick to the shadows. Nothing was going to stand in his way.

He moved in the direction of his house.

***

July 1
^st

“Honey, I don’t know how long I have. I’ve been trying all day to get a hold of you. I doubt the connection will last very long.”

“Oh George, thank God! Where are you? We got the boards up. We nailed the doors shut and covered all the ground floor windows. We should be safe now. When are you going to be home? We need you here. Now.”

George rubbed his forehead and closed his eyes. Getting in touch with Helen was only a minor relief right now. He perched on his stiff cot and tried to blot out the noise of the other refugees in the gymnasium. He needed to focus on his wife.

“I … I’m still in Gallatin, honey.” He sped on before she could respond. “Listen to me. The National Guard took me out of my hotel about thirty minutes after we hung up yesterday. They didn’t give me any choice. They wouldn’t listen. They don’t care that I have to get home. They were holding machine guns on us. They shoved us in a truck and brought us here. I was strip searched and tossed into a high school gym along with about four hundred other people, as best I can guess.”

There was silence on the line. George moved his fingers down to his eyes, which ached from the nagging headache that would not go away. The gym had gotten too crowded, and they were still putting up more cots. His efforts to talk to the military personnel guarding them had met with discouraging results. The National Guardsmen inside the gym had no information and refused to let anyone speak to an officer above the rank of sergeant. All he could get out of them was that things would settle down in a day or two, and then they would be able to go home. For now, they said, it was best to just stay calm and relax. No one was allowed to leave the confines of the school—things outside were dangerous, but under control. Despite the reassurances of the young soldiers, the safeties were off on their weapons, and they were getting edgier by the minute.

“I WILL get home. I swear it. You know I will, Helen. Nothing will keep me here longer than absolutely necessary.”