Dream Sky (12 page)

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Authors: Brett Battles

Tags: #Horror, #Suspense, #Plague, #virus, #Conspiracy, #Thriller, #End of the World, #flu, #Mystery

BOOK: Dream Sky
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Another part of his mind tried to protest these thoughts, tried to point out how inhumane they were, that this wasn’t the kind of person Robert was, but it faded fast. That may not have been the way Robert was in the Before, but it was clear he couldn’t be that Robert anymore.

As he lifted his gaze, he spotted the bags Kat had dropped. Several items had rolled out. Fruit, they looked like.

He jogged over. Papaya and caimitos and even some rambutans. As he put them back into the bags, he discovered Kat had found more than just fruit. She’d also scored two larger packages of cookies, a box of Corn Flakes, and several bags of gummi bears.

Pax was already untying one of the ropes from the pier when Robert returned.

“I take it you fueled us up,” Pax said.

“I did,” Robert replied as he set the bags down.

Kat was on one of the benches, her arms wrapped tight across her chest. Robert knew he should probably go talk to her, but it would have to wait. He met Pax at the front of the ferry, where a final line was all that was holding them to shore.

“Wait,” Robert said as Pax started to release the rope. “What about Aiden?”

“Nothing we can do for him.”

“I realize that, but shouldn’t we get him off the boat?”

Pax glanced at the door to the down staircase. “I don’t have any desire to go down there and carry him out, do you?”

“No,” Robert admitted.

“Better if we leave him there, then. There’s enough room on this deck and on top for everyone. We don’t need the below.”

Robert was relieved. While he didn’t exactly like the idea of having someone with Sage Flu coughing under their feet, the idea of going down there and helping the man off the ferry was even less appealing.

He took over untying them from the dock so Pax could head up to the wheelhouse. Even though Robert had more experience piloting boats, Pax had become the resident expert of the
Albino Mer
.

Moments later, the engines fired up and the ferry pulled from the dock. Robert watched the expanse of water between shore and boat grow for a few moments before sitting down next to Kat.

“You okay?” he asked.

“No,” she said after a moment. “No, no, no. I’m not all right.”

He put a hand on her shoulder. “Hey, take it easy. It’s over.”

She looked at him as if he were crazy. “It’s not over. It’ll never be over. Everyone’s gone. They’re all dead.” Her voice trailing off, she said again, “They’re all dead.”

He put his arm around her and pulled her close as she began to cry. He tried to think of something to tell her, to make her feel better.

In the end, he said nothing.

__________

 

T
HE JOURNEY BACK
to Isabella Island took a little over two and a half hours. As they came out of the channel and into the bay, Robert blasted the ship’s horn while Pax guided them toward the dock.

“See anyone?” Pax asked.

Robert was watching the hotel, but had so far seen no movement. He sounded the horn again, his gaze glued to the resort’s upper deck right outside the restaurant where they had left the others.

“There!” he shouted as two people ran out onto the deck.

The
Albino Mer
was still too far from shore for him to identify them, but he saw them disappear into the stairwell that would take them down to the bottom of the hotel.

“I’ll get the ropes,” he said, and headed to the main deck.

He grabbed the line attached to the bow and jumped up on the gunwale, steadying himself against a post to keep from falling into the water. He felt an odd mix of excitement and dread as he watched the dock approach. This island had been his home for a while now and he always enjoyed returning to it. But all the other times he’d come back, there had been people on the beach, Jet Skis on the bay, vacationers on the bar deck. Now the Isabella Island Resort looked deserted. If he didn’t know any better, he’d think everyone had died.

Something else added to the eeriness, too. The morning sun glistened off the sheen from the virus solution that had been sprayed over the island, and was still clinging to many of the plants and parts of the building. If it weren’t for the death it represented, the sheen would have looked beautiful. Robert wondered how much rain it would take to restore the island to the paradise it once was.

As the boat neared shore, Robert focused on the dock, ready to jump the moment it was within range. When they had closed to no more than fifty feet, he saw Renee and Estella running down the stairs that connected the bar deck to the beach. Though it had been only a day, it seemed he hadn’t seen them in forever.

The
Albino Mer
slowed to a crawl, inching forward at a pace Robert suddenly found excruciating.

Come on, come on
.

“Robert!” Estella yelled as she and Renee ran across the sand toward the dock.

He waved back and checked the dock again. Close enough.

He leapt over the water and landed with a few inches to spare at the very end of the dock. He moved forward with the boat as it came alongside and tied the line to one of the clamps. As he rose to his feet, Estella raced past Renee and jumped into his arms, hugging him tight.

“When you did not come back last night, I thought…I thought something had happened,” she whispered in his ear.

“Well, something
did
happen, but we also came back.”

She pulled back far enough so she could look at him. “Are you all right?”

“I’m fine.”

She stared for a moment longer before pressing her lips against his.

“So, um, there’s a stern line that needs to be tied off, too,” Pax called down from the open window of the pilothouse. “That is, if you don’t mind.”

Robert reluctantly pulled from Estella’s embrace. “We can pick this up in a bit.”

“Yes, we can,” she told him.

He set her down and took care of the rear mooring line. As he returned to where the bow was tied off, Pax exited the boat.

“It’s good to see you two,” Renee said.

She hesitated a moment, and then gave Robert a hug.

“Forgive me if I don’t put my tongue down your throat,” she told him as she pulled away.

As Estella turned beet red, Robert said, “Forgiven.”

Renee gave Pax a hug also.

“Glad to be back,” he said.

“Have we missed the plane?” she asked. “It was coming last night, wasn’t it?”

“It’s waiting for us,” Pax said. “Which means we should—”

“Who is that?” Renee asked, looking past them at the ferry.

Robert turned and saw that Kat had come to the front of the boat.

“That’s Kat,” he said. “It’s a long story. One I’ll be happy to tell you once we’re headed to the mainland. Is everybody ready?”

Renee and Estella exchanged a concerned look.

“Most everyone,” Renee said.

“What do you mean?”

“Three people came down sick last night,” Renee said. “And another this morning. We’ve isolated them, but…”

Robert turned to Pax. “Everyone was vaccinated. Why would anyone be sick?”

“It happens on occasion, a reaction to the vaccine,” Pax said. “Same thing happens with all types of inoculations.” He looked at Renee. “I need to see them.”

“That may be a bit difficult,” she told him.

“Why?” Robert asked.

“When they started getting sick, a few people began to wonder if Pax might have been lying about the shot. That maybe he wanted everyone to get sick.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Robert said. “Everyone saw the spray. If Pax wanted us dead, he would have let us go outside.”


I
know that. I also know he wouldn’t have come back here until we were all dead if that was his plan.” With a gesture back at the hotel, she said, “But there’s a vocal minority in there that isn’t seeing things the same way.” She focused on Pax. “You go back in there, you’re liable not to come back out.”

“I’ll talk to them,” Robert said.

“They’re not particularly pleased with you, either. You did, after all, ‘run off’ with the enemy.”

“All right, enough,” Pax said. “We need to get everyone off the island, and we need to do it fast. There’s no telling when Project Eden might return.”

“I have a feeling some of them aren’t going to want to go,” Renee said.

“And what?” Robert asked. “They’re going to stay here on the island?”

“I’m just telling you what I think, that’s all.”

“Then they can stay,” Pax said.

They all turned to him, surprised.

“Look, every life is important now. And yes, I want everyone on the ferry. But if we have to force some of them to join us, and they end up causing a problem later that might cost others their lives, then it’s better if they stay.”

“What about the sick?” Robert asked.

“Bring them.”

“But they might infect the rest of us,” Estella said.

Pax looked out at the island. “So might exposing yourself to all the virus the two of you just ran through.” He let his words sink in for a moment, then said, “Round everyone up and bring them down here. We’ll give people the choice. But no matter what, this boat leaves this dock in an hour.”

11

 

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA

6:40 AM PST

 

B
EN HAD REACHED
the northern edge of Los Angeles right before dark the night before. Knowing it would be easier to find the survival station in the daylight, he’d broken into a diner in Sunland, stretched out in the large corner booth in the back, and fallen fast asleep.

Not long after eleven p.m., he snapped awake to the sound of shattering glass. At first he had thought it was one of the restaurant’s windows, but a quick check revealed they were all intact.

Okay, not his building. But one close by.

He made his way to the front of the diner. He was ten feet from the window, buried deep in shadows, when a second crash slashed through the otherwise silent night.

He froze. That had been even closer. A building or two away, at most.

As alarming as the sound was, what followed was truly terrifying.

Laughter. Loud, obnoxious laughter.

And then a second laugh, a different tenor than the first, but no less creepy.

“That one there,” a male voice said, his words echoing along the street.

“Easy,” another male voice scoffed.

A few seconds of quiet ended with another window shattering and another gale of laughter.

Then footsteps.

Ben dropped to a crouch.

“Okay, my turn,” the first one said. From the tone of the voice, Ben guessed the guy couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen.

“All right, over there. The one in the middle.”

Ben waited for the window of a nearby building to break, but it was the window directly in front of him that exploded.

He barely had time to cover his face before he was bathed in shards. He fell backward onto the floor, unable to hold back the grunt that escaped his lips.

He froze, sure the others now knew he was there. But all he could hear was more laughter and the second guy saying, “Nice one. My turn.”

Ben remained on the floor until he could hear them no longer, and then stood up. Glass clung to his shirt and pants. He did what he could to shake it all off, and inspected his arms and hands. He’d been cut in several places, but they were mostly nicks and scratches.

Thinking there might be more glass in his hair, he tilted forward and gave his head a shake. He felt a drip behind his ear, so he reached up and discovered a few inches of hair matted with blood.

He hurried back to where he’d left his things, snagged his flashlight, and went into the windowless bathroom. Holding the light in one hand and using the mirror, he scanned his scalp, expecting to find a big gash. But like the cuts on his arms, the two he located on his head were minor.

The place had no hot water but the faucets still worked, so he was able to wash himself off. In the kitchen, he found a first-aid kit and a shelf full of clean cooking towels. He used several of the towels to dry off and applied some antibiotic ointment to his many wounds. He covered the larger ones on his arms and hands with bandages, and pressed another towel against the cuts on his head.

For several minutes, he seriously considered finding someplace else to spend the rest of the night, but he decided the likelihood of the vandals returning was low, so he went back to his booth bed and tried to fall sleep.

Ten minutes asleep, twenty awake. Thirty out, five awake. Fifteen out, nearly an hour awake. The night went on and on like this. He finally gave up when the first gray light of the dawn leaked into the diner.

He spent several minutes before looking through the front windows at the street to make sure no one was out there. If his experience with Iris hadn’t been enough to caution him about other survivors, the window-smashing duo had sealed the deal. The next time he ran into anyone, he wanted it to be at the survivor station. At least there, the UN would make sure everyone acted like human beings.

Satisfied there was no one around, he grabbed his bag and slipped out the back door to the rear parking area where he’d left his car. He still had no idea where the survival station was, but he figured it had to be someplace large enough to accommodate a lot of survivors, given the size of the city.

He found a gas station a block away and went inside, looking for a map. No luck. He tried at two more stations but got the same result. With GPS, maps were something gas stations didn’t need to carry anymore, he guessed.

He finally found a map at a motel near the freeway entrance. After studying it for a moment, he figured the most likely places for survival stations would be the area airports. They were big and well known and easy to get to. LAX was the largest, but the Burbank airport was closer to his current location, so he figured he should check there first.

He hopped onto the I-5 and headed south. The first few miles were fine, but right before he reached the Burbank area, he had to slow way down due to the amount of abandoned cars on the road. At one point, the road was so obstructed that he had to exit the freeway and then get back on.

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