Virulent: The Release (30 page)

Lucy looked down at her plate. “We don’t know the truth. None of us know.”

“Well, I’m beginning to think that the truth isn’t going to help me,” Ethan replied. He clattered his fork against his plate and reversed his chair away from the table and wheeled himself back into the den. They watched him go and then turned back to their breakfasts, each of them waiting for someone else to resume eating first.

Lowering her voice, Darla leaned in and narrowed her eyes. “You’re just going to show up in this town in Nebraska and knock on some doors until you’re reunited with your family? That’s not a great plan.”

“I don’t have a plan,” Lucy said in a small voice. “But I don’t want to sit here at the house waiting for us to run out of the meals my dad left and not doing
anything
to try to find the people I love. I’ve already done that. I just stayed at that stupid school waiting for someone to come rescue me.” She looked at everyone and put down her fork. “No more. This is something we
can
do. No more waiting around, I’m done with that.”

The fire popped.

“You know you can’t risk Ethan’s life by asking him to go with you,” Darla said with her mouth full. “Eat the pancake, Teddy.” She looked at Lucy and raised her eyebrows in expectation of a reply.

“We can’t just stay here. So, then what?” Lucy asked and she turned over her shoulder toward the den. She pushed her chair back away from the table and started to make her way to Ethan.

“Right,” Grant answered. His voice was strong and confident. “Well, that makes it easy.”

Lucy paused and turned to look at him. “What?”

“Lucy and I will go,” he said to Darla.

The offer hung in the room, palpable and tense. Everyone collectively held his or her breath.

Then Darla looked thoughtfully toward the ceiling and then back toward Grant. Her eyes went between the two of them, assessing. Finally, she assented. “It’s not the only way, but I suppose if you’re hell-bent on going…it
is
the best way. You can drive once you get out of the city. Gas is an issue because you can’t pump without power…but cars should be easy to come by.”

“But you just said—” Lucy started, but Darla raised a fork at her.

“Look,” she interrupted. “I’m not going to tell you not to take a risk. And I think you’re crazy, but I’d be lying if I said that I didn’t want some answers. I lost the love of my life and everyone on this planet I cared about with the exception of my son. You think you can do this? Then go.”

“Is this happening?” Lucy asked and she took a step forward. “Everyone is okay with this?”

Shrugging, Darla looked over at Teddy. “I’m not
leaving
my son. And I’m not
taking
my son. Your brother can’t travel. Neither of you should go alone. If Nebraska is in your future…then this has to be the way. I don’t think it’s safe and I am petrified about what’s waiting for you there. But if you want to go, I’m not going to stand in your way.”

Inside the den, Ethan flipped through records. Lucy entered and stood near the doorway, the sounds of the others clearing breakfast dishes in the background.

“You know what shocks me most of all?” he said with his back still turned to her. “Why would Dad just walk away from the life he built here? Why leave this heirloom? And his wedding pictures,” he nodded toward an album on the edge of their father’s work desk. “How could he risk losing us?”

Lucy sat down on the couch and leaned her head back—she stared at the white ceiling and the overhead fan above them—the blades decorated with some flowery design that had always looked like an abstract drawing of an owl’s face. She turned to face Ethan.

“I’ll ask him that. When I find him. He’s got to be out there Ethan…I believe that. I think he
wants
us to find him.”

“And you really want to do this?” Ethan asked.

Lucy exhaled out her nose. “This is our family. Our mom. And I
can
do this. Please trust me.”

“I trust you. But it’s scary…to let you go. What if you—” he couldn’t finish his thought.

Teddy swooped into the room and made a leap to the couch. He jumped and jumped until Darla came in and swung him off the leather and planted his feet on the ground.

“Legos?” she suggested and he rushed away, shouting about building an all-blue spaceship. Grant came in and sat by Lucy and he gave her a reassuring smile.

Pushing her back against the bookshelf, Darla crossed her arms. “We heard before the communication ended that the bridge is down between here and Washington. Car backup along all major highways will be impossible to navigate. You could walk out…but Grant is a living testament that you might still run into Raiders…who knows what type of people are lurking at the major entrances and exits to the city.”

“Sounds lovely,” Grant said. “What if we head north?”

“Fine. But still I-84 is a traffic jam up the Gorge. You’re walking out of here and
that
alone carries all sorts of risks,” Darla explained as she rubbed her temples. “Too bad you can’t just fly out over the wreckage. Land yourself beyond the miles of corpses and cars.”

“What if we could?” Grant asked, alert and looking between everyone, his eyes flashing with excitement.

“Fly?” Darla laughed. “Oh yeah?”

“Well, more like float,” Grant replied and he smiled.

From Up Above Tours was family owned and operated for thirty years. Grant’s uncle was a commercial pilot frustrated by an aggravating schedule that kept him away from his wife and young children and Grant’s aunt was a strong woman with an entrepreneurial spirit and unstoppable business acumen. For years they ran sunrise hot air balloon tours over the Willamette Valley, storing their massive equipment during the off-season in Grant’s family’s storage barn on their large lot with acreage. Abandoned and ready for flight, just miles from Lucy’s home, were a collection of hot air balloons. Grant’s aunt and uncle kept the balloons in trailers next to the stables, where Grant’s horses grazed and slept.

“Horses? You have horses?” Lucy asked and she raised her eyebrows with a knowing look.

“Don’t say it…just don’t. I think the point’s been made.” Then he frowned as he remembered. “Had horses, though. We lost two the night before everything. Not all of them. But if it was just a precursor to everything else then I doubt I have any horses anymore.”

“Wait, wait,” Ethan turned to Grant. “So, you can fly these things?”

“Yes,” Grant replied quickly. Then he shifted his eyes to Lucy and lowered his eyes. “I mean…I’ve helped fly them. I work every summer with the company. Setting up the balloons, assisting with flights. I can do it. I know how. I’ve done it a hundred times over the years.”

“But you’ve never actually flown one solo?” Ethan wheeled closer and looked at Grant incredulously.

“I can do it,” Grant said, his eyes lighting up, moving between each of them – eager to convince. “I’ll need some extra hands, but I can fly us out over the wreckage. Right? That’s all we need?”

“How far do they go?” Lucy asked, imagining a stress-free ride through the skies all the way to Nebraska.

“Depends on how much fuel we take, which balloon, which gondola. I think I can get us like fifty miles. But maybe more, I can push it to more.”

“That’s all?” Lucy crossed her arms over her chest. “That’s not even a start to the trip.”

“Well, I don’t want to walk fifty miles instead if those are our options,” Grant replied.

“Where will you go?” Ethan asked.

“Well,” Grant paused, “we don’t have a choice. We go where the wind takes us. But from here? I’m hoping to catch the wind that travels south. Head toward Central Oregon…plenty of open landing space.”

“This is brilliant, Grant,” Ethan reached forward for a high-five, which Grant reciprocated. He turned to his sister with appraising eyes. She looked to Ethan, Grant, and then Darla who picked at the bed of her fingernails with the tip of a paperclip.

“I can’t even believe we’re talking about this as an actual
thing
,” Darla muttered. She flicked the dirt and grime to the floor and bit off the top part of her fingernail on her right pointer finger.

“A freaking hot air balloon,” Lucy added and Darla smirked—they shared a moment bonding over their skepticism.

“This can work, Lucy,” Grant said, turning to her. “I am promising you.” He lowered his voice. “I will get us to your family.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves. We’re following a cryptic letter. Nothing more.” Ethan replied. “For now, we’re following the hint of my family. That is what we’re chasing. A hope. In a hot air balloon.”

“A hint, a hope, a hot air balloon,” Lucy mused out loud. She thought of Mrs. Johnston’s alliteration poster and smiled to herself. Yes, fools, all of them, thinking that in the end knowledge of literary terms could ever be useful. “You’ll need this for a successful future,” some of the more idiotic educators pontificated.
What future?
Lucy thought. Apparently for her future she needed to know how to navigate a hot air balloon. And she shook her head, exhaled long and low, and then turned to the group. “When do we leave?”

CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

Eight days after The Release

The day before the big trip, they planned and prepped and enjoyed their last full day together. Anxious to hear if Spencer would be able to uphold his end of the bargain, Darla had paced the length of the den while brainstorming a backup plan, while Ethan sat morose, dipping into their father’s liquor cabinet again and self-medicating until he had passed out on the couch. Lucy could not blame him for wanting to check out. They could all see that Ethan’s health was deteriorating and without antibiotics and someone to look at his legs, they all feared the worst.

Darla tucked him in and then asked them not to be too hard on him. “He wishes he could be the one to do this,” she said. “He feels like he’s failing you.”

For the first time since they concocted the hot air balloon idea, Lucy felt guilty for her quick willingness to leave him behind. “If you think I should stay, please tell me,” Lucy begged Darla.

“No, you should go,” Darla replied. “Spencer’s network was intricate and vast. I would never have saved his pathetic life and offered him our most precious resource if I didn’t believe he would help us save Ethan.”

Lucy had to trust that she was right.

When sleep finally found her that evening, she crashed. There were no dreams. No midnight awakenings. And now, in this early morning, her body refused to budge and her mind kept shoving her back into the darkness. She could feel Grant’s hand push on her shoulder, his voice call her name, but she refused to acknowledge his presence.

“Lucy? Lucy?” Grant said to her. “It’s time. We have to go.”

When she was able to pry her eyes open, Grant’s shape was blurry in front of her as he knelt down by her bedside. Outside, it was still dark.

“Don’t make me pour a bucket of water on you Lucy, please?” Grant pleaded and his words hovered in the place where sleep beckoned her, but where her mind was aware, but not awake.

“No—” she protested.

“Wake up, please. We have to go. I’ve checked the wind…heading south…at sunrise. It’s a mile to my house, Lucy. We have to hurry. Who knows if the weather will be right tomorrow. It’s Oregon after all. We have to catch the wind just right.”

“I don’t want to go—” she slurred. But she felt Grant reach a hand under her back, lift her forward. “Okay, okay,” she said when her body was upright.

“Pack a bag. Light. I’ll be downstairs.”

Lucy nodded, her eyes still closed.

She thought of the last time she had been awakened and then told to get her bags ready. She shivered at the comparison.

“Are you getting up?” Grant asked her in a parental tone as he stood in the doorway.

She nodded again, but felt her body slink back toward the warmth of her bed.

From outside she heard the sounds of heavy footsteps, her door banging backward, and Darla’s exasperated sigh.

“Please Grant, this is not how you do it,” Darla spat at him. “You’re being too nice.”

Lucy resisted and Darla grabbed her by her hands and pulled her to the floor, her chin hitting the carpeted floor with a thud. Then Darla sat her up and yanked all the remaining covers free.

“Five minutes. Go downstairs, Grant. I got this.”

Grant mumbled a protest, but then retreated.

Alone with Darla, Lucy started to move.

“Not even nearly fast enough sweetheart,” Darla said and pulled her to her feet. “Such a ridiculous life you lead. Bet your mommy got you up every morning with some soft rock and butterfly kisses, right?”

“Hardly,” Lucy replied. Then her thoughts went to her mom.

Her mother was in Nebraska. She knew it, felt it, like she knew that she was going to take another breath or blink. Her mommy was in Nebraska.

“I’m up,” she said and walked to her closet. She knew she had been wearing the same clothes for the past few days and she could smell the stench as she shed them without a hint of self-consciousness. Then Lucy changed into a pair of cargo pants and a black hooded sweatshirt. She grabbed a change of clothes and shoved it into a backpack. The other night in the den, she found her father’s copy of
Fahrenheit 451
and for comfort and reading material she packed that too.

Tying on Galen’s hiking boots, which she was pleased to discover fit her quite comfortably, she was ready to leave, but Lucy still felt disoriented.

“You good?” Darla asked and then she retreated.

When she finally made it downstairs, she saw everyone waiting.

Now Lucy could see that Grant had changed too. He was wearing a combination of clothing items from Ethan and her dad, including a weather-resistant jacket with Ethan’s college logo displayed across the back.

Off they marched into the middle of a war and they both just looked like co-eds heading to a rainy football game.

“I’m ready,” Lucy announced.

Grant shimmied into a hiking pack. He nodded toward it as he lifted it up across his shoulders. “The ready-to-eat meals. Flashlight and a blanket.” He leaned down and handed Lucy a pack of matches and a handful of glow-sticks. “These didn’t fit in my pack.”