- - End of All Things, The (15 page)

It felt so strange. This was
normal
, a world she didn’t think existed any more, a world of freezers and hot showers. A world where the clock on the microwave told the correct time. She hadn’t known what the time was for months, except what she could glean from the position of the sun.

“There are no buns,” Justin said apologetically. “All the bread was moldy.”

“I don’t mind.”

“I didn’t know what you’d want—a hamburger or a cheeseburger, so I made you both.”

“And I’ll take both!” Carly was salivating as she stared at the plate of juicy burgers. She wasn’t alone. Sam sat beside her, looking up at the plate with an expression of agonized longing. Carly nudged his dog food bowl with her foot, and he glanced down with a doleful expression.

“There’s mustard, ketchup, and a surprisingly large array of relish and pickles in the door of the fridge.”

Carly opened the refrigerator door and wrinkled her nose. It needed to be cleaned out because some of the food had gone bad. She got the ketchup and mustard out of the pocket in the door. “What do you want?”

“Grab the bottle of hot sauce on the top.”

“Hot sauce? On your burger?”

“Nope. For the fries.”

“That’s a sacrilege. Only ketchup or vinegar are appropriate for fries.”

“You’re in Canada, pumpkin. You need to add mayo to that list.”

“God, that sounds so gross.”

“It’s not bad, actually.”

“I think I’ll stick to ketchup.” 

Justin piled fries on her plate and two of the burgers. Carly wanted to dig in right then and there, but she followed him to the little dining area and sat down at the table like a civilized person. She politely draped a napkin across her lap and then dove in. 

Justin had to hide a smile at her enthusiasm. He hoped the burgers and fries might help convince Carly to stay until her back and upper arm were healed. Sam lay at his feet, watching the table with avid interest. When both of them declared themselves full—
stuffed
, actually, Justin picked up one of the burgers and offered it to Sam. Both of them expected him to gobble it down, but he carried it to the kitchen and laid it on the floor before lying down and holding it on its edge with his paws. He ate it in small bites, chewing enthusiastically.

“That is one strange wolf,” Justin said. “Listen, Carly, I was hoping to stay a couple more days here. I managed to contact one of my friends and—”

Carly sat up in her seat and clutched at the table’s edge. “How?”

“The telephone works.”

Carly bolted out of her chair and ran so fast she slipped and almost fell when her socks skidded on the linoleum. She yanked the phone off of its cradle and punched in a number.

“Who are you calling?” 

“My dad.”

A frisson of alarm zipped up Justin’s spine. “Carly . . .”

“His voice mail,” Carly said. “I just want to hear his voice one more time.”

She closed her eyes as she listened. She punched the number two to hear it again. Afterward, she gently replaced the phone in its cradle and leaned against the wall, just as Justin had after his conversation with Carter.

Justin got to his feet to offer her what comfort he could, but she straightened, picked up the phone again, and began to dial numbers, one after the other, listening to the phone ring, or getting the
beep-beep-beep
of a disconnected line. Tears streamed unheeded down her cheeks.

Justin laid a hand on her shoulder. “Who are you calling now?”

“My ex-boyfriend, Noah.” 

Why did that bother him? “Are you . . . Do you still have feelings for him?”

Carly shook her head. “Not like that. We stayed friends afterward, sort of. We just weren’t suited to each other.” She placed the phone back in its cradle. “That’s the last number I know.”

Her caramel-colored curls hid her face as she looked down at the floor, at the toes of her striped socks. “You’re lucky to have spoken to one of your friends. I would love that. Just to know they’re still out there somewhere.”

“They could be. Maybe they’re traveling like us, unable to answer their phones.”

“Maybe,” Carly said, but her tone implied she didn’t believe it.

“There’s something else I need to discuss with you. Why don’t we go into the living room and get comfortable. I’ll bring you another ice pack for your back and some pain medicine.”

“Please get me something different. That stuff you gave me last time knocked me out cold.”

He nodded. “Sure.” He went out to the wagon and dug through the drugs until he found what he was looking for. He carefully traced his finger under the words on the label as he read it. Medicines were tricky for someone with dyslexia because so many drug names were similar, some only a letter or two apart. He shook the pill out into his palm, and it looked right to him. 

Carly was curled up on the couch, and Sam lay next to her, his long legs sprawled straight out. His head was on her lap, and she cooed to him as she scratched his ears. Adoration shone in the wolf’s amber eyes.

Justin retrieved the refrozen bag of peas and wrapped it in a dish towel. Carly leaned up so he could slip it behind her back. He handed her a Coke he had found in the garage. Carly used it to take the pill and sipped slowly, savoring each taste as though she realized it might be the last Coke she ever had.

Justin sat on the recliner and angled his body to face her. “Carly, the man who attacked you didn’t have a fever.”

Carly blinked. “He was one of the Infected.”

“It appears some people survive the Infection, but their minds are permanently changed by the fever. My friend Carter’s wife is one of them.”

“No one survived once they got the Infection,” Carly said slowly.

“It turns out that’s not true.”

She shook her head. “But, everybody . . . My parents . . .” Guilt twisted her features. “Did I do something wrong?”

He scooted forward so he could take her hand into his own. Carly blinked hard, as though she was struggling not to cry, and his heart ached for her. “No, honey. Most people didn’t survive it. There was nothing you could have done. But it seems there are a few who did survive it. So we need to be cautious. Stay together. No more wandering off.”

Carly’s face pinked. “I’m really sorry about that.”

He waved his hand. “It’s an easy mistake to make, but we have to learn from it, okay? Keep Sam with you at all times.”

She nodded. “No more wandering off. I promise.”

Carly went out to the garage and turned on the light. There was a car parked inside with a dead man in the driver’s seat. Carly looked away and scanned the walls for the item she wanted. She found it hanging on a peg near the garage door. Walking around the back of the car, she saw rags stuffed into the tailpipe. She shivered. She’d seen that in a movie once. They said it was a peaceful and painless way to go. She couldn’t help but wonder if the man had been immune like Carly and Justin, unable to cope with a world in which he seemed to be the last living, sane person.

She took down the hammer and fished a nail out of the clear plastic drawer of the organizer on top of the tool bench. Carly laid the penny she had found in the gravel by the station on the table and positioned the nail near the top edge of the coin. She whacked the nail a few times until it had pierced through the penny, then laid down the hammer and pulled the nail out. She used the hammer to tap down the rough edges of the hole.
Perfect.

Carly reached behind her neck and unfastened the chain she wore. On it was her father’s ring and her apartment key, and she strung the coin on it, too.

She heard Justin call her name. “Coming!” she yelled and re-fastened the chain around her neck and dropped it under the collar of her T-shirt.

Carly agreed to stay the extra two days Justin had hoped for after he bribed her with the offer of more french fries. They spent the next afternoon collecting canned goods and other supplies from the other houses. At the last one, Justin went in by himself. He didn’t offer a reason, but she could guess what it was. She wondered what sort of life he had led before the Crisis that the stench of death didn’t bother him. Each of the houses had been well stocked with food, and the wagon was stuffed.

Carly took one last long, leisurely, hot shower the next morning. She was going to miss that. They headed out down the highway, with Sam trotting at Carly’s side and Shadowfax loping along behind them.

It was a little more than seventy miles to the next town, Carcross, and luckily for them, they were on a downhill slope. Their route would skirt the edge of a huge lake, and Justin estimated it would take them a few days to get there. It would be much faster to take a boat down the lake, but they didn’t encounter any large enough to hold Shadowfax. Carly was grateful Justin didn’t say anything about the horse slowing them down.

Justin was again awed by the views, and Carly was able to see them anew through his eyes. It was majestic—the high, jagged mountains reflecting off the mirrored surface of the lake under the huge bowl of a bright summer sky. Though he’d seen the views on the drive into Alaska, he was still staggered by the beauty of this land. It reminded Carly once again this was the last time she was likely to see it, and Justin, as perceptive as always, asked if she wanted to stop for a rest. She shook her head.

They passed a few vacation and fishing cabins, and when a man ran out of one of them, waving his hands, Carly was startled enough to almost fall off her bike.

Sam whirled to face the stranger and jumped in front of Carly, his front paws planted far apart as he crouched to spring if necessary. His teeth were bared in a snarl, and the hair on his neck and upper back stood up. The man froze in his tracks and didn’t try to come any closer.

Justin drew his pistol as soon as he had seen the man emerge from the house. He dismounted from his bike and approached with the gun held out in front of him, one hand around the butt and trigger, the other below to steady his aim. “What do you want?”

The man slowly raised his hands. “I just wanted to see if I could trade with you folks. You’re the first people we’ve seen in months.”

Carly looked past him at the windows and saw two frightened faces peering out from between the curtains. It was a woman and a small child. She couldn’t tell if the child was a girl or boy.

“What have you got to trade?” Justin asked.

The man had a hint of pride in his voice when he replied. “Gold. I have gold. I bought it when the economy started going bad.”

Justin shook his head. “It’s worthless. The department store jewelry counters are full of it, and no one is even bothering to loot it. You would have been smarter to buy a few cases of whiskey and ammunition instead.”

The man looked startled and discomforted by Justin’s words. “But . . . I thought . . . The guy on the radio said . . .”

Justin lowered his gun and put it back in his holster. Sam took his cue from Justin and ceased his snarling, though he remained alert, his head dropped low with a piercing amber stare fixed on the stranger.

Justin’s voice was gentler as he spoke. “Do you have anything else? Medicines? Guns?”

The man shook his head. “I was hoping I could trade with you to get some food.”