Winds of Change (7 page)

“And we just happened to be in the wrong
place at the wrong time?” I asked.

Pete nodded. “Who’s to say that the contents
of one of those vials couldn’t be some sort of chemically
engineered germ?”

I was busy considering Pete’s theory when I
heard Chuck calling my name from the front of the store.

“They’re looking for us,” I said. “We should
get back. I don’t think we should mention what happened to the
generator or your theory about the angel either.”

“Agreed,” Pete said. “We’ll keep this under
our hats. No need sending the group into a panic over something we
can’t control. There’s enough stuff to worry about right now
without adding another item to the list.”

The group all watched us carefully as we
walked down the ill-lit aisle. “We both had to go to the men’s
room,” I lied, hoping they would believe the excuse. Nobody said
anything to the contrary, but I think a few of them thought the
explanation was a little fishy.

“Any new developments?” I asked, not really
expecting that there would be.

“There’s somebody in that restaurant over
there,” Chuck said. “I saw them walk in front of the window.”

“Really?” Pete asked.

“Yeah, really,” Steven replied. “Watch.”

It wasn’t long before the same shadowy figure
passed in front of the restaurant window again, confirming what
Chuck had said.

“Why couldn’t we have gotten stuck in a
restaurant instead of a home improvement store?” Steven asked. “At
least then, we wouldn’t have had to worry about food for a
while.”

“Depends on how many people are inside,”
Leland Kennedy spoke up. “They may be in the same shape as we are
if you divide the amount of food they’ve got left by the amount of
hungry mouths in need of feeding.”

“We should try to get to them,” Ashley
Richards spoke up, “see if they know any more than we do. Maybe
they’ve got some answers.”

Wayne Richards looked at his wife carefully.
It was clear he was just as surprised by her suggestion as the rest
of us were. “Are you stupid? It’s suicide to go outside. We’ve seen
what can happen. You can go if you want to. I’m staying right here
until help arrives.”

“So we wait here until we starve to death?”
Ashley asked, on the verge of tears again. Her lower lip quivered
as she spoke. “We were supposed to have our whole lives ahead of
us. We were supposed to have a family, kids, even grandkids
someday. We were supposed to buy a house that we could call our
own. We were supposed to fall asleep in each other’s arms for the
next fifty years. How can we do that if we die here after a week or
two?”

It was clear that Wayne Richards didn’t have
the answers. It was clear that he didn’t care either. Sadly, no one
really expected him to.

“I think Ashley’s right,” Leland spoke up.
“We’re going to die either way. Might as well give it a shot while
we’re still strong enough to fight for our lives. Maybe we could
make some sort of containment suit out of trash bags. I saw it on a
science-fiction movie once.”

“I’ve got some more air masks in hardware,”
Chuck said. “The kind with a strong microfilter. I’ve got thick
rubber gloves and boots too. Those might do the trick.”

“Whoever goes should take a walkie-talkie.
It’s not more than a couple hundred yards to the restaurant. We
shouldn’t have any trouble communicating over that distance.”

“So who is going to be the one to risk their
life?” I asked. It was clear nobody had thought about that part of
the deal.

“I’ll go,” Leland Kennedy said. “I’m the
oldest. I’m the one who’s lived his life and enjoyed the good
times. If anybody should take the chance, it should be me. I’ve got
the least left to lose.”

Although we should have argued with the old
guy, he was right. The rest of us still had a lot of good years
left provided that we made it out of this situation alive.

“I’ll go round up the stuff,” Chuck said.

About ten minutes later Chuck returned with a
shopping cart full of supplies: duct tape, garbage bags, boots,
gloves, an air mask, goggles, and a two-way radio along with a
bagful of batteries.

“Go ahead and wrap me up,” Leland said. “I’m
ready to do this. Who knows? Maybe I’ll actually make it over there
without turning into a food additive.”

We couldn’t help but laugh at that as we
started covering every exposed inch of Leland Kennedy in plastic.
When we finished he looked like a futuristic mummy. He walked like
one too.

“This getup feels like I’m wearing cardboard.
I should have asked for the designer version.”

Before any of us could say any words of
encouragement or thanks, Ashley Richards kissed the old man on the
cheek. The cheek was covered in plastic, but the gesture wasn’t
lost in the translation.

“Thank you for what you’re doing,” she said.
“Even if it doesn’t work, you are one of the bravest men I’ve ever
met.”

“Don’t cry for me yet, missy,” Leland rasped
through the air mask. “If I make it back alive, you’re going to
cook supper for me one night.”

“I’m still learning to cook,” Ashley
confessed.

“Fine. You can buy me dinner then. But be
warned I’m a healthy eater.”

“Deal,” she said.

“I’ll hold you to it,” Leland said. “Now, how
do I work this walkie-talkie thing?”

“Just push the button on the side and speak
into the receiver,” Chuck explained. “I gave you a lot of extra
batteries so we can talk freely once you get to the
restaurant.”

“You’ve got a lot of faith in me,” Leland
said.

“You’re all we’ve got,” Chuck replied.

“Well here goes nothing,” Leland sighed,
pushing the doors open. Steven and I closed them almost before the
old man could get out.

I think all of us expected him to turn to
dust at any minute. But he didn’t. Not after the first step. Not
after the tenth step. About halfway to the restaurant he even
turned and waved at us to show us he was O.K.

“Talk to him, Chuck,” I said.

“What’s it like out there?” Chuck asked as
the radio crackled and popped.

“It’s kind of like walking through a
graveyard at midnight,” Leland replied. Given the nature of the
dust that was swirling around him out there, the analogy wasn’t
that far off base.

“Does everything feel O.K.?” Chuck asked.

“Everything’s fine,” Leland said. “I just
hope they’ll let me in once I get there. I could use a good steak
right now. That sandwich didn’t do the trick.”

“We hope so too,” Chuck replied. “Eat one for
us once you get there.”

“Roger that.”

After a few more seconds Leland reached the
front door of the dark restaurant. At first it seemed as though we
might have been mistaken about there being other people inside.
Then the door swung open quickly and Leland was pulled in.

“Made it,” Leland exclaimed as the two-way
radio squealed and sputtered.

We all looked at each other and smiled. The
fact that he had survived meant that there was hope for all of
us.

Wayne Richards, however, didn’t share our
enthusiasm.

“He’s in on it,” he said. “Whatever the
terrorists have planned, that old codger is in on it.”

“What are you talking about?” Pete asked
him.

“Think about this logically. It was his idea
to go out there. So far he’s the only one who hasn’t disintegrated
in front of our eyes. And the only reason he can give for wanting
to be the sacrificial lamb is because he’s lived longer than the
rest of us? Please. He may be old, but that doesn’t mean he’s just
going to play the role of martyr for a bunch of strangers he
doesn’t know.”

This time it was Ashley’s turn to wheel on
him. “Why do you always have to be negative about everything? You
think it’s impossible that someone could be so unselfish because
it’s something you would never consider.”

“It’s got to be something biological,” Wayne
Richards said, ignoring his wife. “Maybe Leland Kennedy is the one
who released the contagion. He certainly seems to know how to
survive with it flying all around us. For all we know, we could
have already breathed the stuff in. Maybe walking out of here like
he did was his way of escaping. Or maybe he’s been inoculated
against the virus and is just putting on a show to make us think
he’s afraid of the air.”

None of us were convinced. Maybe it was
because Wayne was the one presenting the argument. Or maybe it was
simply because we didn’t want to believe that Leland Kennedy might
be capable of the things Wayne was suggesting. Either way, Wayne
didn’t have our vote on the matter.

“Just because Leland didn’t turn to dust
doesn’t necessarily mean he had anything to do with it,” I said.
“Maybe it was God’s will for him to stay alive. For all we know he
could have gone out there in nothing but his birthday suit and made
it. You seem awfully ready to discount God in all of this, and
maybe he’s the only thing that’s kept us alive so far.”

“But we don’t know that either,” Wayne said.
“All we’ve got to go on right now is the fact that Leland was
wearing the suit and that he survived. The two are linked in my
opinion.”

“We’re not listening to your opinion
anymore,” Pete said. “Whether you like it or not, God is definitely
involved here. Think about Vera Weaver speaking in tongues. That
definitely shows some level of divine intervention.”

“Little kids never do stop wanting to believe
in Santa Claus,” Wayne said with a dismissive wave of his hand. “I
guess this is sort of the same thing.”

“It’s a non-issue at this point,” I grumbled.
“We haven’t gotten to the stage where we all wrap ourselves in
plastic and pray to the Almighty and run outside with the hope that
we don’t turn to dust. That comes later. I think we should wait a
little while longer and see what Leland does first. Then we make
further decisions and evaluations.”

“I agree,” Chuck said. He held the two-way
radio up to his face. “Leland?”

But Leland didn’t reply. Chuck adjusted one
of the knobs on the radio and spoke again. Leland still didn’t
answer.

“What’s going on?” Wayne Richards asked.

I glared at him. “You know the same things we
know.”

Wayne shrugged his shoulders and peered out
the window. “I still see movement in the restaurant.”

“That doesn’t mean the movements are
Leland’s,” I reminded him.

Chuck tried talking to the old man a few more
times before giving up. None of us were quite sure what had
happened. But the fact that Leland had stopped communicating with
us was a bad sign.

“See, I told you,” Wayne gloated. “Now that
Leland’s away from us, he can expose his true colors. I was
right.”

Wayne was still trying to convince us that
his theory about Leland Kennedy was valid when another explosion
shook the back of the store.

“It sounds like it’s coming from the pool
chemical section,” Chuck huffed.

When we got there, flames were licking up the
sides of the walls. The two Weaver boys were standing there gaping
at the destruction. With their mouths hanging open and their eyes
wide, they looked like fish waiting for the baited hook.

“What did you do?” I screamed at them.
“Where’s your father?”

The boys looked at me and laughed. Jesse
Weaver caught up to us in time to see his sons snickering.

“What did you two do?” he roared.

Kenneth spoke up. “We heard that you could
make a bomb with pool shock and a Dr. Pepper. We didn’t really
think it would work.”

“But it did,” Jake Weaver said, echoing his
brother’s enthusiasm.

“Both of your hides are mine when we get out
of here,” Jesse growled. “Your mother is dying in front of your
eyes and all you can do is pussyfoot around out here in the
store.”

The normally defiant boys seemed to
physically shrink in the presence of their father. I still didn’t
like any of them, but I definitely gained a little bit of respect
for Jesse Weaver at that moment.

Although the fire wasn’t out of control yet,
it was steadily climbing the walls and

inching toward the doors.

“You guys got anything to put this out with?”
Jesse asked, a hint of fear creeping into his eyes. “We got enough
problems without a campfire.”

“The sprinklers should kick in soon,” Steven
replied. “Don’t worry. The building won’t burn down.”

“I’m not worried about the building burning
down,” Jesse hissed. “I’m worried that the fire is going to cause
those glass doors to explode and let in whatever’s turning
everybody to dust. After all, the generator was supposed to kick in
too, and look what happened there.”

“He’s right,” Wayne said, pointing at one of
the glass doors. The frame was already starting to warp and buckle
from the heat. It wouldn’t be more than a few seconds before the
glass shattered.

“Do something,” Ashley whimpered.

“Run,” Chuck said. “Back to the break room,
hurry!”

We all heard the explosion of glass behind us
as we rounded the corner. Ironically, it was then that the
sprinkler heads decided to kick in.

“Great timing,” Chuck muttered under his
breath.

His words took on a whole new meaning once we
saw just how bad things really were. Vera Weaver wasn’t breathing
when we exploded through the door.

“Vera?” Jesse Weaver said in a high strained
voice. “Oh God, Vera.”

Vera’s eyes were open, and it was obvious
that she was straining for air. Her face was a light shade of blue,
giving her the look of someone who has spent too much time in
subzero temperatures. Jesse shook his wife hard, hoping his love
and desperation would be enough to save her. One corner of her
mouth was drawn and her eyes stared at some mystery on the
ceiling.

“Alastor,” she gasped. “…is here.
Seraphim.”

“What?” Jesse Weaver pleaded.

“Please change, Jesse,” Vera whispered as she
took her last breath. “I want you to be in Heaven with me.” Jesse
cradled her in his arms like a rag doll.