The Infection (27 page)

Anne snorted. “Give me a break. In any case, all that stuff is going on
downtown
, not here. The only thing we got going on
here
is two crazies hanging around the park that I want you to give a good talking to. Go kick them out of there so our kids can go play outside.”

“They can play in the backyard,” he offered.

“
Tom
. If you were here each day with these little darlings since the Screaming like I have been, you would know that they are wild animals and need space to roam. You cannot keep children bottled up on a beautiful day like this. They will tear the house apart. I am speaking from experience.”

Anne suppressed a smile, enjoying their game. She knew he would obey her. He always did. The truth was he loved her more than anything and after a good deal of token hemming and hawing he always did as she said. Anne was the type of person who mouthed off to strangers about their driving, their parking, how they treated their kids in public. She had actually gotten her husband into a fistfight once over her editorializing about a man taking two parking spaces at the supermarket with his oversized truck. Big Tom had apologized after knocking him to the ground.

“I don’t think you understand what I’m saying,” her husband said with a massive frown.

Her eyes narrowed. He was not playing. He was serious. Well, so was she. When it came to things like this, she was very much in charge. And she could be very, very stubborn.

“Go, Tom. Go be the man.”

“You want me to go?”

“Don’t go, Daddy,” Little Tom said, his voice cracking.

“Don’t you say another word,” Anne warned him, her voice quiet and deadly. A hush fell over them all; the mood in the house had suddenly become tense. She went on sunnily, “Your father is not working today, so he can help out around the house.” She looked him in the eye, accepting his dare. “Yes, dear, I want you to go take care of that problem in the park.”

Big Tom stormed out of the kitchen and returned holding one of his shotguns. The kids watched this in stunned silence except for Little Tom, who choked back a long series of sobs.

“Oh, Tom, don’t go Rambo or anything,” she said. “It’s just stupid kids, I’m sure of it. Just give them a stern warning so they leave and don’t come back.”

Big Tom loaded the shotgun wearing a grimace that was almost a sneer, blinking rapidly. She could tell he was scared and it confused her. The only time she had seen Big Tom scared was their first date, their wedding day and the birth of their firstborn.

“Okay, I’m going, then,” he said.

Anne looked at the ceiling, almost laughing, and said, “That’s what I’ve been
saying
.”

“Lock the door after I leave the house.”

She waved him off, already focused on her next task. Anne had never locked her door during the day and she was not about to start now. If she needed to lock her door, she wouldn’t be living in this neighborhood.

After Big Tom left, doubt began to nag at the back of her mind, a little voice whispering,
bring him back
, which she overcame through diving back into the endless housework that constituted her 24/7 job. She washed the breakfast dishes, dried them, put them away. She took her pie out of the oven and set it to cool. Big Tom loved her pie and she almost laughed thinking about him devouring it. He would come back feeling silly about being scared and she would say nothing and put a big piece of pie in front of him with a cold glass of milk. She tried to call her girlfriends to talk about all of these things on her mind, but there was still trouble on the line. Around noon, she made sandwiches for her kids and began to seriously worry.

The kids ate their lunches sullenly at the kitchen table. Little Tom’s chin wobbled as he chewed mechanically, watching his mother with big, watery eyes.

“Where’s Dad?” Peter said, his voice challenging.

Alice stopped chewing. Little Tom sobbed and rubbed his eyes. Anne, who had been staring out the window wondering that very thing, realized they were all looking at her.

Fear flickered across her face, followed by a smile.

“Dad went for a walk with Acer,” she said.

She stood, picked up the phone, and tried to call his cell, but the phones were jammed. She tried again. And again. Always the same. Always that frantic busy signal indicating system failure. The kids studied her closely with worried expressions.

Peter understands what is happening, she thought. Perhaps even better than I do.

“Ha!” she said. The phone was ringing.

Big Tom’s ringtone, Leo Sayer and the Wiggles doing the chorus of “You Make Me Feel Like Dancing,” sang out from the living room.

Anne slammed the phone down, biting back a nice, juicy F-bomb. That was just like him. He was always forgetting to bring his cell phone.

“Where’s Dad, Mom?” Peter pressed.

“Go to your rooms,” she said.

“
I want Daddy
,” Little Tom screamed, wailing.

Alice buried her face in her hands, sobbing.

“Where’s Dad?” Peter said.

“I have a better idea,” Anne said. “Come on, get up. You’re all coming with me.”

“Where are we going?” her boy demanded.

“
You’re
going to Trudy’s next door.
I’m
going to get your father. You all right with that?”

Peter nodded, almost visibly deflating with relief.

“Then let’s go, troops,” she snapped. She bent to wipe Little Tom’s tears with a paper towel. “You too, big man. Finish your juice first.”

The kids got out of their chairs and put their shoes on, Peter helping his brother and Anne helping Alice. Anne noticed how grown up Peter was becoming at just seven years of age and she swallowed hard to get rid of the sudden lump in her throat. Outside, it was a beautiful day, sunny and a perfect seventy degrees. Anne blinked in the sunshine, looking for trouble, but the neighborhood looked the same as it always did. The air was crowded with distant sirens, but there was no trouble here in the ’burbs. Just green lawns and well-kept blue-collar homes and beautiful blue sky. No people either, but they were probably all at work or inside watching the news. Even Little Tom perked up and she had to hold his hand to keep him from becoming distracted. He had reached an age where he was fascinated by anything resembling a rock.

She herded the kids across the street to Trudy’s house and rang the doorbell.

A muffled voice: “Who is it?”

“Trudy, it’s me.”

“Anne?”

“Open up, Trudy.”

The door opened and Trudy Marston peered out at them and then past them, scanning the sidewalk and street beyond.

“Everything all right, Anne?”

“Right as rain,” Anne answered, resisting the urge to turn around to see what Trudy was looking at. “Listen, friend. I need you to watch my little ones while I go look for Big Tom at the park.”

Trudy opened the door further, exposing her haggard face. “Jesus, is he okay?”

Anne smiled grimly. “He won’t be after I get through with him.”

Her neighbor’s voice suddenly became shrill. “What was he
thinking
going out today?”

Anne blinked. “Never mind that. I need to bring him home. Can you watch my kids?”

“I’m sorry, I can’t. Hugo is in a bad way. He’s been stirring all morning, crying out in his coma. I got to keep a watch on him.”

“You know Hugo is in our prayers, Trudy. If he’s stirring around on his bed, that’s a good sign he’ll wake up soon. It’s not a coma anymore if he’s yelling in his sleep. Take it from me: You know I was a nurse before Peter came along. They’ll all wake up soon. We’re all hoping that.”

An expression of horror crossed Trudy’s face.

“You okay, Trudy?”

“Yes, I hope so, too,” the woman said, her voice tired and faded. “Anyhow, I got to keep a watch on him. I got to be ready when he wakes up.” She laughed harshly. “Even after everything, I just can’t leave him. Ain’t that a hoot?”

“Well, now you got three little helpers to help you watch. Right, helpers?”

“Yes, Mom,” Peter said, scowling skeptically at Trudy.

“This is not a good idea, Anne.”

“Come on, kids, get in there,” Anne said, hustling her children through the door. She stifled a cough; the house stank like sour milk. Her poor neighbor had really let herself go since Hugo fell down during the Screaming. “Trudy, fifteen minutes is all I ask.”

“Please . . .”

Anne looked up at the sky, almost laughing. Why was everybody being so unreasonable with her today? “Come
on
, the park is right over there. It’s a five-minute walk. I’ll be right back, I swear.”

People had a hard time refusing Anne Leary.

She power walked to the park, fueled by her fury at her husband for making her worry like this, and paused at the curb. If there were a couple of crazies lurking about, it might not be a good idea to run into them. She had a forceful personality and was a big talker, but she was physically small and hated violence. Talking tough could only get you so far and she could not back it up without Big Tom around. She surveyed the neatly manicured lawns and trees for any sign of friend or foe. For any sign of people at all. Wind rustled in the branches. The playground stood empty, the swings moving a little in the wind, as if haunted.

“Tom?” Anne said, hating how timid her voice sounded.

Where was everybody? Usually, there were a lot of people in the park on a beautiful day like today, even on a Monday, even after the Screaming screwed everything up.

She noticed a plume of smoke rising in the east. That was downtown. There was a big fire downtown. The sirens crowded in a little closer. As she moved into the trees, she heard a crackling sound. Of all things, she thought. Who would be lighting fireworks at a time like this?

“Tom!” she yelled, feeling bolder. “Tom!”

She crisscrossed the park repeatedly, searching for any sign and finding none. She did not wear a watch, setting her schedule by her routine alone. Fifteen minutes had blurred into an hour. The sirens only grew louder until, suddenly, she realized they weren’t there anymore. Everybody seemed to be lighting fireworks downtown. Time blurred again as her rage turned into panic. She felt the day slipping away from her.

“Tom, I’m sorry,” she cried, running blindly. “I’m sorry. Now come on out here!”

Anne stopped, sweating and panting. Her shoes were muddy, her pants scraped and torn. The sun hung low in the sky. The last sirens were petering out. She had a sense of some massive unseen battle being fought and lost. The crackling sound was everywhere now.

“
I want my husband
,” she said fiercely, spitting.

A horrible feeling overtook her, shooting through her like an urge to vomit, making her fall to her knees.

“Oh no,” she said, covering her mouth with her hands. “Oh,
no no no no no no
.”

Anne rose unsteadily to her feet and ran as fast as she could, wondering if she were too late. She finally arrived at Trudy’s door gasping for breath.

“Please,” she said, pounding on the door. “
Please
, God.”

Nobody came to open it.

She ran to the picture window and tried to peer in, but the sheer curtains obscured her view. A television was on, glowing in the dark interior. She pounded on the window until pain lanced through her hand, forcing her to quit. She briefly contemplated breaking the window and how she might accomplish this. Instead, she ran around to the back of the house feeling like she was about to scream. She had a sense of being out of control.

If somebody touched one hair on my kids’ heads—

Anne could not bear to finish the thought. Could not bear the idea they might be hurt.

“Please God,” she breathed. “Please God, please God—”

The glass sliding door was open. The screen door was closed, the mesh torn away.

That sour milk stench poured out of the house.

“Please,” she whispered, stepping inside.

The living room was dark. The TV was on, displaying the rainbow colors and emitting the loud ring of the emergency broadcast signal.

“Trudy? Trudy, are you there?”

Nobody answered her. Anne ran across the room to the kitchen. Three small glasses sat on the table. One still had a little milk in it.

“Trudy, where are my kids?”

There was an unmade bed in the master bedroom and the sour stench in there was so concentrated it made her gag, pushing her back out of the room with an almost physical force.

“Trudy, it’s me, Anne!”

All of the rooms were empty. It seemed nobody was home. Where had Trudy taken her kids? she wondered. She needed time to think. She needed to find them and keep them safe until Big Tom came home.

Anne returned to the living room. The emergency broadcast signal continued to grate on her frayed nerves and she moved to turn off the TV.

Oh my God—

“No,” she said. “No, no, no, no—”

She convulsed, bending over and vomiting explosively onto the carpet.