Year One (17 page)

Arlys set down the coffee, pushed over a pile of Hostess pies. “Apple or cherry?”

“Why not both?” Fred opened her backpack, slid them in. “There's room.”

“You're good for me, Fred.”

In just under the allotted ten minutes, Chuck disengaged the locks, came in. “Let's load 'em up and head 'em out.”

Arlys pulled on her coat, a cap, hefted the food box. And when she walked out, stopped. Blinked.

“Is that a…”

“Humvee—not militarized,” Chuck added as he loaded a box of equipment. “I'm a hacker not a fighter. Cool, right? Like Arctic Circle cool.”

“It's awesome!” Fred stuffed in bags and backpacks as Chuck went back for more.

“Who … who actually owns a Humvee?”

“I do.” Chuck loaded more. “Always figured the world would screw itself, and why not have a monster ride to use to head for the hills? One more load.”

Arlys went back, got the case of bottled water. Chuck grabbed the last load of equipment, took a sentimental look around.

Then he shut the door, locked it, and turned his back on home.

They weren't smooshed—it was a monster ride—but the equipment and supplies took up a lot of space. Arlys nudged Fred into the front with Chuck, settled in the back, and as he rolled and rumbled away, took out the pad and pencil he'd dug up for her.

She'd written out every detail she could remember from the last broadcast, from the trip through the tunnels. She'd written until her fingers numbed. Now she wrote about beginning this journey.

Maybe no one would ever read it, ever hear it. Maybe no one would care, or be left to care. But she needed to make a record.

“Going to head up Nine,” he told them, “and see if we can get on Eighty. It's probably blocked, but this bitch has muscle. We may be able to clear the road.”

Arlys pulled out the folder of maps she'd asked him to print off. “I worked out some alternates.”

“Always prepared. Don't worry, cupcake. We're getting you to Ohio. That's the deal.”

They made it as far as Ridgefield before they hit a serious roadblock. An SUV with a dented rear fender was slowly backing away from a five-car pileup blocking the road.

Arlys laid a hand on the gun under her coat.

“They're good. I can tell,” Fred said quickly. “They're not bad.” Fred swiveled around. “They probably just want to get out like we do.”

As she'd trusted Fred in the tunnel, Arlys trusted her now. She rolled down her window, put both hands out and up.

“We're trying to get through,” she called out. “We're not looking for any trouble. I'm Arlys, and I'm with Fred and Chuck. Chuck thinks he can push the wreck out of the way.”

“Can do,” he confirmed.

For several seconds, the SUV didn't move, then it began to back up again, veering to the side until the driver's window faced Arlys and Fred.

“We're not looking for trouble, either. I can help move the wreck.”

“I've got it.”

“Chuck's got it,” Arlys relayed. “If he can push them out of the way, you can follow us through.”

A woman in the passenger seat leaned forward. “Arlys Reid?”

“Yes.”

She nodded to the driver, who let out a long breath. “Okay. We'll wait here.”

Chuck rolled his shoulders. “Watch me plow this road!”

He took it slow. Arlys had worried he'd ram the mess of five cars like a horny buck, but he eased into it, kept it steady, worked the wheel.

With the ringing squeal of metal, he pushed two cars back enough to angle and nudge one off to the shoulder.

Fred applauded.

“Video games,” he claimed, backing up to get an angle on another. “Plus, I ran a snowplow for one of my uncle's businesses a few years.”

He only had to push the other cars over a few feet.

“We can get through, they can get through. We're wider.” He drove past the wrecked cars, eased over, stopped.

This time the SUV pulled up to Chuck's side.

“We appreciate it.”

“No sweat, we both wanted through.”

“Rachel,” she said. “Jonah, and Katie in the back. We have three infants with us.”

“Babies!” Fred shoved open her door, leaped out.

“Fred!”

“I want to see the babies.” She waved a hand at Arlys, bounced over to peer in the back window. “Oh! They're beautiful! Are they all yours? Oh, babies are so full of light. What are their names?”

Slowly, Katie rolled down the window a few inches. “Duncan, Antonia, Hannah.”

“You're blessed. Chuck, they have three babies. They need help. We should help. We're going to Ohio,” she continued, before anyone else could speak. “If you want, you can follow us until we're not going the way you are. Chuck can maybe keep pushing things out of the way.”

“Jonah?”

Jonah glanced at Katie, then back at Rachel, then nodded. “We'd be grateful. We're not heading anywhere in particular. We'll follow you.”

“How far you want to go before you break?” Chuck asked.

“We've got almost a full tank. We just started in Hoboken.”

“Hey!” Chuck poked a finger into his own chest. “I'm from Hoboken. We must've been right behind you. How about we try for the Pennsylvania border? You need to stop sooner, blink your lights, or when the sun's up, honk.”

“Safety in numbers,” Rachel added.

“Yeah, can't hurt.”

As Chuck rolled forward, Arlys wrote down the names in her notepad.

Not just safety in numbers, she thought. Strength in them.

*   *   *

With pileups and jams of abandoned cars beyond even the Humvee's muscle to clear, the journey across New Jersey involved winding, back-tracking, detouring.

When they finally crossed into Pennsylvania, Chuck pumped a fist in the air, let out a
“Woot!”

“Crossed ourselves another state line, ladies. I'm going to hunt up a pit stop. This big girl's getting thirsty.”

They turned onto what proved to be the main street of what Arlys thought of as a hamlet—too small to be a town. Quiet as a tomb now, one buried in snow. A Christmas card, she thought, a traditional ideal. Her vision of it only sharpened when she watched a small herd of deer wander by what was billed as Arnette's Salon for Hair and Nails as if they roamed the forest.

People had known their neighbors here, she thought. Had gossiped with them and about them. Surely Arnette had often patronized Billy's Dine In or Out. Pie at the counter? she wondered. Surely there'd been a counter and a sassy waitress behind it pushing pie.

Where was Arnette now? And Billy? That sassy waitress?

They passed through, left it to the deer.

A half mile out, Chuck turned into a gas station/convenience store.

“Probably bathrooms inside.” He gave the windows, the glass doors a long look. “Looks intact—small population around here. It's going to be locked up, but—”

“We'll get in.” Arlys pushed open her door, stepped out into pristine snow. She walked to the SUV; Fred dashed to it.

“Can I take one? I mean hold one?”

“She's getting fussy.” Katie lifted a baby into Fred's waiting arms. “I have to feed her.”

“I don't mind. Oh, she's so sweet. What's her name?”

“She's Hannah.”

“Sweet Hannah. I'll take her inside for you. Hannah's hungry,” she crooned as the baby whimpered. “Maybe it's not locked. It's all right, Hannah,” she soothed as she walked. “Your mama's going to feed you.”

“It's nice to meet you.” Arlys held out a hand to Rachel.

“It's really nice to meet somebody with a … Is that a Humvee?”

“Chuck's.”

“It's open!” Fred looked back with a sparkling smile.

Faeries could get into locked places, Arlys remembered.

As Rachel bent to take a baby from Katie, Jonah called out.

“Don't go in! Wait.” He jogged toward Fred. “Let me just check it out first.”

“He's right.” Arlys strode over to join them. “Wait, Fred. Just in case.”

Jonah gave Arlys a long look when she took out the gun from under her coat. Then nodded. “I'll take left, you take right.”

They moved in, down thinly stocked shelves, by a counter with its open and empty cash register. By tacit agreement she pushed open the door of the women's room, he the men's.

Once satisfied, Jonah shifted his gun to his left hand, held out his right. “Jonah.”

She did the same. “Arlys. Okay, Fred!”

“Chuck says the pumps are on.” Fred kissed the baby who now lay contentedly in her arms. “He's gassing up the Humvee.”

“I guess this is as good a place as any to get acquainted.” Jonah put his gun away as Rachel and Katie came in. “I'll fill up our tank.”

“We need a chair for Katie.” Fred beamed. “So she can sit and feed Hannah.”

“There's one in the back.” Arlys holstered her gun. “I'll get it.”

“I could hold—which one is that?”

“This is Duncan.”

“I can hold Duncan while you feed Hannah.” Fred managed the exchange smoothly, then covered Duncan's face with little kisses.

“You're so good with them.”

“I'm going to have half a dozen one day. Duncan's wide awake. Hello, Duncan! He says he needs to be changed.”

“I'm not surprised.”

“I can do it.”

“That'd be great,” Rachel said before Katie could speak. She handed Fred a diaper bag. “All the basics are in there.”

“There's a changing table in the bathroom.” Arlys rolled out a desk chair. “I didn't try the water, but if the pumps are running, there's got to be power.”

“I hope so because our new mother needs a hot meal. Don't say you're fine, Katie. You've got three mouths to feed, and have to stay healthy and strong. There's probably a microwave in here.”

Arlys pointed.

“Great. Maybe you could heat something up for her? I want to check out the over-the-counter meds they might have left. I'm a doctor.”

“Now I'm even happier to meet you. I saw a couple of cans of beef stew.”

“Perfect. I'll see about more baby supplies while I'm at it. Can't go overboard there with three.”

Arlys scavenged the shelves—no point depleting their own supplies. She heated stew, canned ravioli, a can of chicken noodle soup in doubled paper bowls in the microwave. As she worked, she saw the men get in the vehicles, pull away from the pumps.

Getting them out of sight of the road, she thought.

Just in case.

She set the various choices on the checkout counter, took some stew to Katie.

“Thanks. She's slowing down, so nearly done.”

“Fred?”

“She took Antonia to change.” Eyes exhausted, Katie smiled. “She's wonderful.”

“You have no idea. I have to say you look amazing for a woman who had triplets no more than days ago.”

Katie looked down at Hannah. “Twins. Hannah was orphaned. Her mother died giving birth. She was alone in the hospital because everyone was sick or dead. So we took her with us. She's mine now.”

Katie looked up, those exhausted eyes fierce. “Just as much mine.”

“We'll help you protect the babies.” Fred carried Antonia back. “All your babies.”

“The babies and I wouldn't be here without Jonah and Rachel. Part of me believed they were the last decent people left on Earth. I think we were meant to meet you. Everything so horrible, and yet we met you. We met people who'd protect babies and help strangers. We'll help you.”

“Yes, we will.” Rachel came back with a bulging bag. “Over-the-counter meds, basic vitamins, and first aid. Look through it, take whatever you need. Well, minus the baby-care items.”

Pushing a hand through her curly mop of hair, Rachel glanced toward the counter. “That up for grabs?”

“You bet.”

“I'm starving.”

“Arlys got cut on her arm.” Fred jiggled the baby. “Could you look at it?”

Rachel smiled. “The doctor is in.”

Arlys sat on a counter while Rachel cleaned and re-bandaged the cut.

“This could have used a few stitches. You're going to have a scar.”

“Least of my worries.”

“It's healing well.”

“What kind of a doctor?”

“Emergency Medicine.”

“Handier and handier.” Testing her arm, Arlys looked over at Katie—nursing another baby and eating stew one-handed, while Fred sat on the floor snuggling the other babies.

“Did you deliver the twins?”

“No. Jonah did. He found Katie in labor, got her into the hospital. We were in crisis. The only OB left was trying to save Hannah and her mother, so Jonah delivered the twins. He's a paramedic.”

“This
is
our lucky day.”

“Ours, too.” Rachel picked up a bowl of soup—the men had returned and grabbed up the raviolis. “We wouldn't have gotten this far today if you hadn't cleared the way. We need to stick together.”

“Couldn't agree more. We're going to need to find real shelter tonight.” Like Rachel, she again glanced toward Katie and the baby in her arms. “Somewhere warm.”

“The town we just went through looked promising, but you want to push on. Why Ohio?”

“My parents, my brother. I'm hoping.”

Nodding, Rachel ate more soup. “We push on.”

 

CHAPTER TWELVE

Lana woke shuddering, on the edge of a scream. She clutched a fist to her chest, to the heart that felt it would leap out of her, leave her hollow.

Grief, drenching grief overwhelmed even fear.

A dream, some terrible dream she couldn't quite remember. She remembered the feelings in it—that grief, that fear. And … crows circling. Crows circling, shrieking. Blood on her hands, her face.

She looked down at her hands. Though they trembled, no blood stained them.

Stress, she told herself. Stress dreams, compounded by waking alone.

She huddled in the bed, assuring herself all was well. Better than well. The bed, warm and soft, stood in a room where a fire still simmered. A room where wide windows offered the spread of a snow-saturated forest, as quiet and peaceful as a church, on a rise of land.

They'd found Eric, and no stress dream could smear the joy of
remembering how Max leaped from the car, grabbed his brother, embraced him.

They'd found Eric, alive and well. Found shelter beyond anything she'd believed still existed in the expansive mountain home tucked into the Alleghenies.

Hot food, good wine, a group of survivors banded together.

For the first time in weeks, she'd felt safe. For the first time in weeks, she and Max had loved each other with joy rather than desperation.

No, she wouldn't let a dream dredged from her weak and nervous subconscious spoil that. Though fatigue still dragged at her, she got out of bed. She indulged in a shower—oh, glorious body jets, soft-scented soap, and shampoo—and refreshed herself on their housemates.

Eric, of course, was eight years Max's junior. Handsome, eager, his eyes more blue than Max's gray, his smile quicker, flashier. And a little giddy now to have discovered the power inside him.

Had it come through the blood? she wondered, since Eric had never shown any interest in or talent for the Craft before.

The virus, she thought. It somehow grew from the virus—or filled the void left by it.

Along with Eric, there was Shaun, awkward and nerdy, thick glasses over brown eyes, floppy hair.

The college group included Kim, a stunning girl with gorgeous caramel-gold skin. Cool and cautious in Lana's estimation, but who could blame her? A genius, according to Eric.

Poe, football star who had had scouts sniffing around him. Tough faced, tough bodied. He'd been the one to push a plate of spaghetti to her when she and Max had found the house in the snowy dark.

And Allegra, with her ice-queen looks: pale skin, pale hair, frosty blue eyes. But her manner contradicted her looks, Lana thought. Warm and open, welcoming and kind.

And yet …

No
and yets
, Lana ordered herself as she switched off the shower. Allegra and Eric shared a bedroom, and their relationship had that fresh and shiny look of the new, so she would be warm and welcoming, too.

She dressed, studied herself in the mirror, and decided that while she might not feel fully rested, she looked it. She went out to find the others.

They owed the big, beautiful house to Shaun—or his parents. For a vacation home, they hadn't stinted on luxury: gorgeous wood floors, spacious rooms, fields of windows to let the forest and mountains in, generous decks. A small, in-house gym equaled a lovely dream after the rigors of the road. But her favorite aspect was the huge and exceptional kitchen.

She found Max and Eric in the great room, huddled together over coffee.

She walked to Eric, wrapped her arms around him, and hugged hard. She'd only met him twice before: once at a family wedding, and then when he'd spent a long weekend with them in New York the previous summer. But they'd clicked.

She moved from him to bend down and kiss Max.

“Want coffee?” Max asked.

“Actually, I want tea for some reason. Is it all right, Eric, if I hunt for some?”

“I know we've got it because Kim goes for it. You don't have to ask. We're all in this together.”

“We're going to have to start thinking about inventorying the food,” Max began, and Eric rolled his eyes.

“Man, you just got here. Relax a little.”

“There are eight of us now,” Max began, and because she knew Eric could get defensive when Max played big brother, Lana broke in.

“Speaking of, where's everyone else?”

“Poe's in the gym—he hits it every morning. Allegra's still conked. Probably the others, too. Mostly we don't get up this early. Except for Poe. Your pal Eddie took the dog out.”

“How about if I do some more hunting around and see what I can make for breakfast. For eight.”

“That'd be great.” Eric beamed at her. “We've been mostly doing everyone for themselves, unless Poe cooks something. He's not bad, but he's nothing close to you. We picked up some supplies on the way here when we could. And there's a big freezer in that mudroom place. Shaun said his parents would've just had it stocked before … before everything went to hell.”

His face lost its easy cheer as Eric lowered his voice. “They'd always come up after the holidays, after all that, and they'd spend about a month here. Have some friends up, and stuff.”

He glanced toward the doorway. “The way it looks, they didn't make it.”

“It must be hard on him,” Lana murmured.

She found the freezer and the pantry well stocked. The refrigerator offered slimmer pickings. Max, she knew, had a strong point about inventory.

The eggs and milk wouldn't last long—and the milk would turn in any case. Since she had frozen blueberries in stock, she started gathering what she needed for pancake batter.

“What's the generator run on?” Max asked.

Eric, feet up on the table, shrugged. “I think Shaun said propane.”

“He must know where his parents got it. If we can get a propane truck up here, keep the generator filled, we'll keep heat and light. We shouldn't be using more power than necessary.”

“Christ, you sound like Kim.”

“That makes Kim a sensible girl,” Max countered.

“Look, with what I've got now…” Eric wiggled his fingers. “I can keep this place up and running.”

“That may be, but basics are basics. Keeping the heat on, replacing firewood as we use it, going out for fresh supplies, keeping enough fresh drinking water in stock.”

“We're going to have to learn how to hunt.” Poe walked in, his dark skin shining from his workout.

“Not you, too?” Eric shook his head, got up for more coffee.

“We've got eight people and a dog to feed,” Poe went on. “And it might be more people find us, need a place.”

“This isn't the only place around here. Let them get their own.”

“Eric.” Surprised, disappointed, Lana nudged his arm.

“Seriously. Shaun's got about six acres here, he said, but there are other cabins. High-class ones like this, and more—what was it—
basic
ones.”

“Has anybody scouted out those cabins?” Max asked. “To see if anyone's using them, or if there are more supplies we can use here?”

Poe turned to Max. “Kim and I talked about doing that today.”

“It's a good idea. I'll go with you,” Max offered. “And you're right about learning to hunt.”

“Hunting what?” Shaun came in, pushing his glasses up on sleepy eyes. “You mean like shooting animals? Uh-uh, no way. I'm not shooting animals.”

“Then you can go vegetarian.” Poe shrugged. “But the rest of us are going to need fresh meat, and have to learn how to hunt it, dress it, cook it. Either way, we're going to have to learn how to grow shit, too, when spring comes around. I'm going to get a shower.”

“Poe and Kim are always looking on the downside,” Eric muttered.

“It sounded to me they're looking on the realistic side. Eric,” Max said patiently, “we can't live off what's in that freezer long-term. The fact is, we might not be able to stay here long-term.”

Eric's next shrug held a sulky edge. “I'm going to see if Allegra's up.”

“Give him some time, Max,” Lana whispered when Eric walked out. “They haven't been here long, either, so it's natural just to want to hold on to the relief. The rest? It's a lot to take in, a lot of adjusting.”

“Taking in and adjusting is what's going to keep us alive.”

“I don't want to shoot things.” Shaun flopped down. “Maybe I could fish. My dad and I went fishing every summer.”

He shoved his glasses up to cover eyes that glimmered with tears. Then Joe raced in from the mudroom with Eddie behind him. Shaun brightened, slapping his thigh to invite the dog over.

*   *   *

After breakfast, Eric and Allegra volunteered for cleanup, and Max joined Kim and Poe on their scouting expedition. Lana held Eddie back to check his wounds, change his bandage.

“I think it's healing pretty well, but I don't think we should take the stitches out yet.”

“They're starting to pull some. That's probably good, I guess. Closing things up.”

“Keep taking that antibiotic we got from that drugstore, and I'll take another look tomorrow.”

“Yes, ma'am, Dr. Lana.” He pulled his shirt back on, looked around the stone-tiled bathroom. “This is some place. I've never been inside a house like this. Fan-cee. Eight of us in here, along with Joe, and we don't feel crowded. But…”

“Supplies don't just regenerate. Max will find more.”

“A lot of deer in the woods. Rabbits, too. Some streams close by where fishing's probably good.”

“I get a little queasy at the idea of shooting a deer or a rabbit, which is hypocritical since I've cooked both.”

“Don't much like it myself, but you gotta do what you gotta. This
is a good place to be for now, but it's a fact we'd be better off finding a place where we could grow some crops, keep a couple of milk cows and some chickens. And more people. More hands to work, more hands for defense.”

“I know Max feels the same.”

“And, Lana?” He stepped to the door, glanced out, eased it shut. “There's more going on out there than deer and rabbits.”

“What do you mean?”

“We walked a ways, right? Me and Joe. Felt good to be out in the air. And back in the woods I came across this like, circle of stones. Not like a campfire, exactly, but that's what I thought at first. But the ground in it, that was black and burnt but, no ash, no charred-up wood. And Joe, he got the shakes and wouldn't go near it. I got 'em, too, I admit it.”

Rubbing idly at his wound, he kept his voice low.

“You know how the hair on the back of your neck stands up, and you get that cold right up your spine?”

“Yes.” She experienced it as he spoke.

“Like that. Spit dried up in my mouth. We backed off because, man, it just wasn't right. It just wasn't, you know, natural. I'll cop all the way to wimpy, but I won't be walking back that way.”

“You think it was magick, dark magick.”

“I don't know about that stuff, but I know it wasn't right. I didn't want to say anything in front of everybody. Just don't know them yet, right?”

“Tell Max—just Max. He and I will go out there.”

“I wish you wouldn't. Man, I wish you wouldn't, but I think you've, like, gotta. And if you've gotta…” He sighed. “I gotta.”

“When he gets back then. For now, can you use a washing machine?”

“If I have to.”

She patted his cheek. “I was thinking you could wash the clothes
we've been wearing on the road while we have soap, water, and a machine. It's a nice machine in a nice little laundry room. You should hang them up to dry once they're washed, save the generator.”

He let out a puff of air. “Yeah, okay. I guess I can do my bit.”

While he did, Lana assigned herself to take inventory. She wrote down categories, amounts, pounds, number of cans. Then sat down to calculate how many meals, portions, days, weeks, what they had would last.

She glanced up, smiled, when Allegra came in.

“You and Eric sure know how to shine up a kitchen.”

Graceful, she all but floated over in jeans and a bright red sweater. “It's the least we could do after that amazing breakfast. I might have to join Poe in the gym if you keep cooking like that.”

Allegra wandered to a window. “They're not back yet?”

“No.” Lana glanced toward the window. “Not yet.”

“I'm sure they're fine. It really hasn't been all that long. I have to say I'm glad I'm not out there trudging through the snow. What are you doing?”

“Inventory—starting with food supplies. I'm going to hit other basics like toilet paper, soap, lightbulbs, whatever else I can think of.”

“Oh, we have plenty, don't you think?” Strolling back, Allegra tapped one of the cans. “It's not like we're going to stay here forever. It's fine right now—middle of the winter—but it's so isolated. We'll go stir-crazy. I'm going to open a bottle of wine—something we have plenty of, too. Hey, it's five o'clock somewhere. Have you seen the wine cellar?”

“No.”

“Talk about inventory. I'll go get us a bottle, and we can get to know each other. After all, I'm with Eric, you're with Max. We're like sisters.”

“You're right. They'll be hungry when they get back. I've got some chicken thawing out. I thought I'd make tortilla soup for dinner.”

“Sounds fantastic!” Allegra tossed back her hair and left to go down to the cellar.

Soups and stews, Lana thought as she rose. A good way to stretch supplies.

She got what she needed, started putting things together in a large stockpot from memory.

“Wow. It already smells good.” Allegra, brandishing the wine, strolled over to get a corkscrew. “Eric said you're an actual chef. Professional.”

“That's right. What were you studying?”