A Gray Life: a novel (14 page)

“I saw you in the lobby when you checked in downstairs.”

It didn’t make sense. Christopher had already been in the hotel, but it didn’t explain how he knew which door to knock on.

“Yes, but how did you find my room?”

Christopher found his shoes interesting. “I followed you.’

“And how long have you been doing that?”

He looked up. “Sorry?”

“You heard me. No one knew I was here.
Except for you. How long have you been following me?”

Christ
opher appeared confused. Juniper delved deeper into his emotions; his appearance wasn’t deceiving. A perk of her power was that it made her a human lie detector. Through and through, he was confused, not conflicted like when he was lying. Christopher hadn’t been stalking her as she had feared.

“June, I’
ve been living here for a couple of weeks now. It’s not safe at our house anymore.”

Our house.
He was still thinking of it as “their” house, even though she had lived in it for a mere three months.

“It’s not safe for you here either. Fuck off.”

She slammed the door in his face.

It was necessary to cut the conversation short, because she Juniper could feel herself relenting, even as she told herself to hold back, to not care. Not caring about a man she had loved for almost a decade was hard. She had wanted to ask what had happened to make their (
his
) house unsafe, but the question would have opened her up to asking more of him than she needed.

Juniper grabbed her bag and was ready to leave the hotel when she
remembered, there was no where else in the city for her to go. Leemo’s place wasn’t an option. He hadn’t let her crash since Nieto’s death. Everyone else in the city she knew was either gone, or dead.

There was one place she could go to.
Christopher’s mansion. He was here, that meant it was empty. He had told her it wasn’t safe, but it only wasn’t safe to him. Juniper knew how to handle herself. She could make it safe.

She stood by the door, one hand ready to turn the knob. After a moment, her hand fell away and she collapsed on the bed. The thought of another trek on foot wasn’t appealing. In fact, it was exhausting. Juniper wanted, no needed, to sleep.

Tomorrow she would force herself to move on. Tomorrow she would walk the ten miles south to get to get to Christopher’s house, and she would make it her own.

****

She spent two days lounging in her room before deciding to leave. In those two days, the only visitors she had were room service. Christopher stayed away, and she was grateful. Turning him away the first time had been easy (sort of), but doing it for a second time would require Man of Steel resolve.

While she
packed up to leave, she heard a tapping. Juniper turned from the bed to the bathroom, certain the water was running. It wasn’t the water. The tapping continued from the door. She concentrated, trying to feel if it was the nervous busboy from the day before.

Juniper cast her net and came up empty. But the same tapping started up again, louder this time. She put her eye to the peephole and saw the door opposite hers and
nothing else.

Despite her mind screaming for her not to, Juniper opened the door. Something was making the noise, and it couldn’t be a human being. S
he felt safe as her power hadn’t failed her before. If she couldn’t feel anyone beyond her door, then the hallway was empty, and when she peered around the corner of the door, indeed, no one was there. Juniper took a long look down the hallway, both ways. No one and nothing.

Could Christopher be messing with her somehow? No, she would have felt him even before opening the door. Speaking of, Juniper felt the door had been open for long enough. She started to close it, but it stuck on the last few
inches. A few hard yanks, and it still wouldn’t close. She checked above her, and nearly lost her shit.

The thing blocking the door was sallow of skin and red of eye. It clung to the ceiling in a very
Spidey sort of way, holding the top of the door open with its hands. Seeing such a sight would have been comical under benign circumstances, but the state of the world was anything but benign. The creature smiled at her, and Juniper could feel the creep of familiarity. She remembered the smile, the cruelty and deference attached to it.

It was the boy from a few days before. Only, it wasn’t. The thing on the ceiling couldn’t be anyone, because it couldn’t exist. Juniper pinched herself to see if she was hallucinating, but she only came away with a bright mark on her arm and a demon on her ceiling.
Demon-boy stayed on the ceiling, throwing the door open to crawl into the room.

She ran back into her hotel room. After a few dashes, she realized it was the stupidest direction she could have gone. She should have ran out into the hallway and towards the elevator to escape the building entirely. Instead, she had panicked and thought of locking herself into her bedroom. Juniper didn’t get even to the smal
l sitting room.

She did another stupid thing by checking behind her. Demon-boy dropped down on all-fours and lunged at her. In a
zig to the side, Juniper avoided the impact. The thing ended up slamming into the wall, plaster exploding around it as it created a crater-like hole.

There was enough time for Juniper to execute her initial plan of hiding in her bedroom, but yet again, she didn’t get far.

“What the hell is that?”

It was Christopher. He stood at the door, gaping at the demon unfurling itself from the wall.

The question put the focus from Juniper to Christopher. Demon-boy found its footing, and launched itself at a dumb-founded Christopher. Moving through the air, the thing looked graceful, a little less like the monster it was. Then its teeth were snapping and reaching for Christopher’s neck, and Demon-boy didn’t look graceful at all.

“Get off of me! What is this?
Juniper?”

Christopher was yelling for her, fighting to block the creature from ripping out his throat and barely succeeding. He wasn’t a fighter, had never been in a fight, and he didn’t know how to handle himself. She could tell he had a couple minutes at best.

For a moment, Juniper didn’t move. She had a split thought of, he deserves it. Her thought filled her with a dark anxiety that nearly doubled her over. It caused a crack somewhere inside, and the break hurt like hell. Though, she had no time to consider what it was or how to fix it, so she shook it off and picked up the coat rack by the door.

Juniper’s power had never failed her, and she was hoping it wouldn’t fail her now. She amplified her anger, knowing the outward disruption it caused to all living things around her. With it, she had made dogs howl, caused cats to scurry, and wilted a flower. The vibrations from the manifestation of her feelings were tangible, and could literally bring people to their knees. Soon, she would see if it worked on demon-folk too.

It was building, the roar from her power spilling out. Christopher was trying to cover his ears, and she knew it was working, but the creature wasn’t scurrying like a cat just yet. It had stopped trying to bite off Christopher’s ceratoid though, and that was a good sign.

What she couldn’t see were its eyes rolling to the back of its head. White foam was seeping from its mouth, dropping onto Christopher’s neck.

“Ah, man, its seizing.” Christopher cried.

Juniper swung the metal coat rack until it hit the monster in the head. She had put a lot of power behind the move, and she managed to knock the creature into the hallway. It landed on its side, twitching and kicking.

Christopher shot up from the ground. His hair was ruffled, and he had blood behind his left ear. Juniper scanned him and couldn’t sense pain coming from anywhere else. He was fine.

He pulled her into the room and was about to close the door but she ripped her arm away, not because she was anger, but because she wanted to end it.

“I can’t leave that thing running around in the hotel.” Juniper didn’t ease down her anger, merely to keep her power at its highest level.

“Why the hell not?” Christopher was straining his face, like someone staring against a blazing sun. “That thing you do hurts. I feel it vibrating my damn bones.”

Juniper didn’t apologize.

She turned to the downed creature.

“Thanks to you, I get to use my gun for a second time.”

The handgun was easy to pull out of her jacket, and even easier to fire a round into the creature’s head. Suddenly, the twitching and kicking stopped.

“You just shot him!”

Christopher’s mouth was as open as the gun-shot wound in the creature’s skull.

She tried not to think about how much blood spray had hit her in the face. Her thoughts stayed with the gun.

Juniper’s gun felt lighter, different. It wasn’t just a prop anymore, a toy to scare away Johns and crackheads. It had fulfilled its manufactured purpose by killing. She had killed.

“It wasn’t
a him.”

It was a relief, not just for her but for Christopher. The roaring had stopped when Juniper had fired the gun, and his face was no longer scrunched up in pain. Prolonging her power took a lot of energy, both mental and physical, and she had never sustained it for so long before.

There were voices from inside the nearby hotel rooms, and from two doors down, shouting.

Juniper went inside the hotel room and closed the door. Christopher drew his brows together.

“Now you’re just gonna leave it out there in the hallway?”

Juniper shrugged. “We’re in a hotel. Someone will clean it up.” She further confused hi
m by stripping out of her blood-stained shirt. “You can stay for an hour, but after that, I need you to leave.”

He was trying to be modest by staring at the floor instead of her breasts.
“Why an hour?”

“Because they’ll be people outside and you don’t wanna be out there for awhile.”

She slammed her bedroom door.

****

Juniper took a long shower. It lasted forty minutes, a glorious forty minutes of hot water stripping away every dirty thing she had done in the last day. She wished she could clean it all away. After dressing, she came out from the room prepared to run her husband out of the room. If necessary, she would wield the coat rack.

Maybe Christopher had followed her thoughts, because when she came out, he was already gone. She tried to tell herself it was for the best. Hopefully, she wouldn’t see him again, but she knew she would.

***

Finally, Juniper moved to let her husband come inside. When he smiled at her kindness, she
felt hope nudge her heart. Damnit, no. She wouldn’t be sucked back into a destructive relationship. She
would
not
.

Two hours later, Juniper was doing most of the sucking.
Well, not all of it. Christopher was a generous man. When they had finished reconciling, they collapsed in a sweaty heap. Neither of them spoke for several minutes. There was only panting, sweaty silence, and more panting.

“I’m not moving back in.” Juniper finally said.

“There’s nothing to move back to. I live here now.”

“Oh, right. You know what I mean, though. That was great, but I can’t forget everything in
a couple of hours.”

“I know.” Christopher paused. “And I know you know this too, but I love you.”

‘I love you, too’ had become one of Juniper’s automated responses with Christopher. Her mouth opened to say it, but then closed without a sound. Her lack of response stabbed hurt into Christopher’s chest. Juniper could feel each prick of pain. It quelled, and she knew Christopher was trying to downplay his internal pain to spare hers.

There was no denying it. Automated response or not, Juniper did still love him. This time when she opened her mouth, she would let him know.

She got as far as saying, “I---,” before the lights went out. The room was a black void. Outside, it was just as dark. A sliver of moonlight drew Juniper and Christopher to the window. They could see that it wasn’t only their hotel. It wasn’t only the whole block, either. It was the whole city. And there would be no more electricity for a long,
long
time.

****

October 9
h

Generator.

That’s gosh darn right.

A
fubbing bona-fide GENERATOR!

And not just one, but two!

Michael was walking the perimeter of the house today, and he kept noticing these two metal and plastic-box-doohickeys. At first, he mistook them for air conditioners. After a closer look, he saw the words, “Starport Generators” engraved on them. That excited him, but not much, ‘cause where were we gonna get the gas to power the bastards, right? (Bastard is not
that
bad of a word, so just forget I even used it…). That’s the best part, though! They’re solar powered! On top, they have black and silver panels with more panels leading to the roof. Michael switched the ON buttons to see what would happen. Louise and I weren’t aware of what he’d done, and we were surprised at the results.

I was pooping in the bathroom, (the one with the big window, so I don’t have to lug a flashlight with me. Why a bathroom has such a big window in it, I don’t know) when the
frickin’ light came on. My poop came out in one quick plop. A minute before, I’d been strainin’ to get it out, but as soon as the light came, it scared the shit (um, crap) out of me, literally.

Blinking and seeing spots, I could hear girly squeals from the kitchen. Louise ran to spread the good news I’d learned about firsthand.

“We have light! We have goddamn
power
!” She seemed unconcerned about the laws of privacy with me sitting on the toilet, pants down, my shit (
crap
) smell staining the air.

Still, I smile
d. It was a great moment, crap included. Louise smiled back at me, and then she ran back to the kitchen.

Seeing as how the generators are solar powered
, Louise suggested we all watch a movie together in the den.

“You pick the movie.” She told me. “But no ‘R’ rated ones.”

Heck, I didn’t care. I would watch ‘G’ rated. Just to be able to watch a movie, and feel normal again….The shelves near the television hutch have 500 or more movies. Picking one is not easy. Remembering Louise’s stipulation, I settled on
The Labyrinth
. I had never seen it before, and the girl on the back cover sort of reminded me of Ashley Heard.

“
Ooohh, good choice!” Louise told me.

“Oh God, not David Bowie.”
Sounded like Michael was complaining, but he had a huge grin.

“Put it in!” Louise handed me the disc.

I put the movie in the player with my heart beating fast. I expected the disc not to play. If it hadn’t, I would have been sad, but not surprised. Sadness, disappointment, and death are my constants. When the familiar FBI warning lit up the 52 inch screen, my heart expanded.

I sat on the couch
in between Louise and Michael. They smelled like soap, and I did too. Smelling good was another new (but really old) concept to us.

From the beginning, I was entranced by the movie and the characters.
Although, I would have been happy with any movie, given my deprived state. As the movie progressed, the lead character’s hair began to bother me. It was a long, dark, shining curtain, like Ashley Heard’s had been. And just like Ashley’s hair, I wanted to run my hand through the girl’s hair, feel the cool slippery strands.

Tears clogged my throat, and I tried to push them back down. Then I thought of Ashley and where she could be. Was she in hiding, safe like me? Was she dead? I would never know the answer. I would never see her again. My first love, and possibly my only love in this barren hell
was gone from my life forever.

All my grief overcame me and I turned to Louise. She saw my face and took me into her arms without asking why it was necessary. I cried into her shoulder. Like a mother, she
shhhshed me, patted my back, and assured me everything would be all right. Even if Louise and Michael didn’t know why I was bawling like a baby, I think they understood my need. I think I cried for the three of us.

* * * *

October 11
th

Mmm, just took a dip in the pool.
Harty har. Yea right. That pool’s slimier than a troll’s undershorts. (Like that? I could probably think of a better analogy. Gimme time, baby, gimme time).  No, I don’t see myself doing laps in the pool yet. However, I did find a cache of pool toys in an outdoor pantry-thingy. On the top shelf, I saw big and small bottles. There were also tablets and these little paper-strip…thingies. While I have never owned or maintained a pool before, common sense told me I had come across pool cleaning supplies.

“Michael! Michael!
”

“He’s by the gate!” Louise informed me from the kitchen window.

I flew. With the speed born of a twelve-year old's excitement, I made it from the backyard to the iron gate in an admirable amount of time. When I reached my goal, I was out of breath.

“What’s up, guy?”
Michael asked.

On his head was a curved plate that served as a mask. He had on a thick pair of work gloves as well.

In answer, I held up one finger. I was curious about Michael’s chores.

In
between puffs of air, I asked, “What are you doing out here?”

Michael lifted a heavy tool that had a wand on the end of it. “Gonna weld the gate shut. Then, I’m gonna chain it up, and weld the chain’s closed. Did you wanna help?”

“Sure, but I have another question first.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Do you know anything about cleaning a pool?”

“Sorry to say I don’t.”

“Aw, man. I found chemicals, tablets, and other stuff, but I don’t want to waste it unless I know what I’m doing.”

Michael nodded. “That’s very wise. But you could teach yourself to clean the pool.”

“How?”

“Read about it. That house has a pretty serious library. Maybe there’s a book that might help you.”

The library! Why hadn’t I thought of that? I love to read, but I had forgotten about the house library. At Michael’s suggestion, it seemed as if an entire world of possibilities had opened for me. But, I had promised to help him with the gate first.

Welding is cool, but Michael thought it best to limit my use of the
welder. The heat and weight of the machine is intimidating. Sparks fly out every which way if you can’t control the flow right. Lifting the chains was hard work, too. By the end of our task, we were sweaty, greasy messes, but we were men for it. Ah, I can hear my mother nagging me for even thinking like that. Okay, ma, what I wrote was not fair; girls can work just as hard. I meant that I felt like a grown up after the chore, like the adult I should have been able to grow up to be before the world ended.

While we were putting the tools back in the shed, a thought occurred to me. “Michael, how’d you know how to use the welder?”

It was a just question, when the fact hung in the air that Michael had been a psychology major.

“I read about it.”

His answer, and the serious look on his face as he said it cracked me up. Michael joined me. We had a good laugh about nothing, really. Laughing about nothing can feel better than laughing at an actual something.

* * * *

October 14
th

They thought I couldn’t hear them arguing this morning, but I could. Couples always assume they’re being discreet by arguing in low voices with the door closed.
Not true, though. When people share a home together, everyone can sense when there are problems. I’m glad they weren’t arguing about…stuff that they’d fought about back in The Basement. They were arguing about a subject with equitable merit, though.

“—
Gotta go. Just have to.” Michael’s muffled voice came from the study.

I was outside, puttering with the pool net in the semi-clear surface of the water. Cleaning out bugs and leaves had seemed like a good idea once I’d heard the click

(dead bold sliding home. Never getting out.

No, we’re safe now)

of the study door followed by a heated back and forth between my two roommates. I had tip-toed form the living room to the backyard.

Even in the backyard, I caught most of their words. “No…don’t
have
to….wait…animals might….back.”

Michael’s harsh laugh.
“…Kidding, right?...Never hear birds even….are our best chance.”

Wait, what was our best chance?
Should’ve put my ear to the door.

“…Dangerous!
You’ll never come back!”

“…with Brian before….be okay.”

I stepped into the kitchen to hear
better.

Michael’s voice was clearer. “Besides, the food in that pantry won’t last forever. Winter’s coming. We’re lucky that we don’t have to worry about snow in this state, but it’s still going to get cold. We should have a good sto
ck-pile of food going by then. Sustainable food, starting with a garden of vegetables and a meat source we can depend on. Honey, you know I’m right about this.”

“I never said you weren’t right. I said it’s dangerous. And what makes you think those things will make good food? We don’t even know what they are, where they come from!”

“No, we don’t. But we were eating them just fine while we were in the basement. My hunting trips weren’t only about front-yard trophies for that whacko. They were also about feeding hungry people. We’re not hungry now anymore, but we will be soon if we don’t start preparing.

A long silence.
My foot fell asleep and I stalked quietly around the kitchen to relieve it.

Then Louise said, “Okay. But y
ou’re not taking him with you.”

‘
Him’ meaning me.

“I wasn’t going to.
In a few years, he’ll need to learn.”

“If we live that long.”

“I’ll see to it that we do.” Michael promised.

I hope he does as he says.

* * * *

October 15
th

The demons.

Where did they come from?

Maybe with all of the bad going on in the world, we, as a destructive species, invited them.

From where though? Another
planet, or our own imaginations? I’ve even thought that maybe they could be
us
, the worst of us, mutated.