Going Gray (4 page)

“I think it’s coming free!”

“Try going forward now. May have loosened it enough.”

Her mother dropped the shifter down. The car lurched, jerking them to a stop. Justin shouted, his thumb raised up. He’d bitten it again. Emily reached behind her, stretching until she found his wet fingers. With his hand in hers, she tried to rub away the sting.

“We going?” he asked. His expression turned curious as the car bucked up again.

“You might just want to hold onto this,” Emily told him, motioning toward his thumb. “Keep your thumb safe, no more biting it.”

“Uh-huh,” he answered, and wrapped his hand in his blanket, protecting it. “Hurts when I do that. We going to see Daddy?” Justin’s question caught her by surprise, and a sudden sadness touched her. Would they see their father again? The feeling was new. Fresh. But it was there, and like the fog, she supposed it might be there forever. She pulled up her cell phone, checking for new text messages.

“Daddy might be at work by now.” It was all that she could think to tell him. “I’ll send him a text and tell him you said you love him.” Justin smiled, but she could see he was becoming frightened.

“No good,” her mother said as the car settled back to an idle. “We’re not going anywhere.” Her mother’s face had become flushed and her forehead was covered in a sheen of sweat.

Emily felt panic rise in her throat. “What are we going to do?” Her mother looked around the car, searching the floor, and then the back seat. Justin reached out, taking hold of his mother’s hand.

“My boy doing okay?” she asked. Justin’s face lit up, but then turned to a scowl.

“Bit my thumb,” he answered, and quickly received a kiss to make it all better. His smile was back in a flash.

“The plastic bags,” her mother declared. “I packed all the plastic trash bags I could find.”

Confusion. Why would her mother pack trash bags?

“Really, Mom?” Emily snapped, and immediately regretted her tone. But her mother only raised her brow. Warning. “Why trash bags? What for?”

Her mother leaned against the headrest and said nothing. Emily sensed her mother’s reluctance to answer. It was her turn to raise her brow, asking.

“Once we get to the shopping mall, we have to get out of the car. And before we do that, we’re going to cover ourselves in plastic.” Emily recalled Ms. Quigly’s drowning voice and the sound of her body collapsing against their front door. She held her breath until the images passed. She began to shake her head, understanding what her mother was going to do.

“Emily… Hon, I need your help!” Her mother reached across the center console, pulling up her hands. She locked their fingers together. The touch was warm, and Emily felt her eyes grow moist. Her mother was going to go outside. She was going to leave them and try to fix the car. “Emily, baby. We have to keep moving.” The tears came then, and Emily turned her head, hiding them from Justin.

“You can’t go outside. We’ll try the car again, drive in reverse if we have to.”

“Emily, we can’t do that. Look at me,” she said. Emily wiped a tear from her face and turned back. “I need you to do what I ask. Can you go in the back and get the trash bags?”

Emily said nothing, and instead did as her mother asked. She climbed over the seats, digging out the roll of plastic trash bags. When the cool vinyl was firmly in her hand, she started unrolling it, covering her mother in a polyethylene suit.

“Will the plastic protect you, outside?”

“Let’s hope,” she answered, pulling a bag over her arm. “Eyes. I need eyes.”

“What eyes?”

“Eyes! Holes in the plastic so that I can see what I’m doing.” Worry had shortened her mother’s patience, and she snatched the plastic roll from Emily. But while her mother dug a finger into the black plastic sheet, she looked over at Emily, and then to Justin. She frowned, mouthing words that Emily didn’t understand.

“I’m ready,” her mother finally said. She motioned to Emily with her hand, encouraging her to come closer. She spoke quietly. “I won’t put this on my head until I’m ready to open the door. I don’t want to scare your brother. But it’ll be fast.” Emily nodded and moved back to her seat. She’d expected a count, or a wave of a hand, or even a goodbye, but before she could object, her mother wrapped herself in the black plastic and opened the car door.

Justin was the first to cough, choking on the gray mist wandering in. A whispery vapor cradled the door’s opening, but like at their garage, most of it stayed outside. She could smell the stench, taste the saltiness, but the poisonous fog mostly rolled past the opening. Within moments, pieces of her mother disappeared into the thick gray fold. She turned once, batting at the sting on her arms, but then waved and vanished. With the door shut, the car became eerily quiet. All around them, the curtain of fog rolled by, paying no mind to who was inside.

A thump came, startling Emily. She saw Justin’s tiny body jump, too. Another thump came, and Emily saw a hand on the windshield of the car. But she only glimpsed it for a second before it was gone. Her mother was feeling her way toward the front tire. But why wouldn’t she just call out? Emily perched her fingers over her lips, tasting the remains of salt in her mouth.

“Mom can’t talk outside,” she mumbled. “She’d let the poison in if she did.” She waited for another tap.

“Where’s Mommy going?” Justin asked. Emily raised a hand, like her father often did, motioning to Justin to keep quiet. “I wanna go outside, too.”

Emily sucked in a breath when she heard the sound of a buckle releasing. There was no mistaking the metal and plastic clanking from her brother’s car seat. And by the time she’d stretched her body toward the back, Justin’s tiny hands were already perched on the door’s handle, already clutching it, already pulling…

The collar of her brother’s jacket was just inches from Emily’s fingers when an explosion of crunching metal filled her ears. Her arm whipped against the headrest, nearly snapping, telling her to scream. But she could do nothing while the rest of her body flew backward. She crashed into the windshield, breaking the rearview mirror with the back of her head. A flash of lightning filled her vision, and she sensed that they were spinning. Breathing was no longer an option. Her chest felt crushed by some unseen pressure. Everything around her dimmed, until the inside of the car was gone.

III

THE LAST MILE

Emily blinked her eyes,
d
azed, seeing only simple cloudy apparitions. Blood filled her mouth, replacing the chemical burn in the back of her throat. Her head throbbed, echoing her heartbeat, louder than she thought was possible. When she tried to move, her stomach rolled, and threatened to spill. She gulped, resisting the urge to vomit. Pain awoke in her arm next, making her vividly remember what had happened. They’d been hit. Another car must have hit them. She turned her head. Her brother’s car seat was empty.

“Justin!” she called out, but her voice sounded muffled. “Justin, buddy?” She fell forward onto the floor and screamed. Burning pain pulsed through her side in sharp waves. The pain was bad, but she breathed past it, and turned to find her brother.

She blinked away the blood in her eyes, maneuvered her head and shoulders up onto the seat, and saw that she’d cracked the windshield. She shook her head, trying to clear it. Her heart raced, pounding; she could feel it clearly right down to her fingers and toes. Gradually the sounds returned. An endless car horn whittled its way past the ringing in her ears. It was from another car, must have gotten jammed in the crash.

Emily pressed her hand against the floor, finding their car’s engine was still running. But her relief was cut short when a horrific thought occurred to her. She turned back to the windshield just in time to see the blank eyes of a black plastic bag skitter over the car, carried away by the fog. Dread filled her. She reached up a weak fist, rapped it on the dashboard, waited.

“Mom!” she called out over the other car’s horn. “Mom, can you hear me? Knock on the side of the car!”

“Mommy.” It was Justin’s whimper, from somewhere in the back.
Thank God.
Biting down on her lip to control the pain, Emily crawled over the seat. She found him on the floor, bundled up like a tight knot. He’d never opened the car door. Surely if he had, he’d be dead. The car accident had saved his life.

His eyes were large with fright, taking in the chaos around him. A tear saddled one eye, while wet remains of another ran to his chin. He held his thumb in his mouth, but his lips pouted and shook when he reached out to hold his big sister. The sight made a lump form in her throat, and she choked back a sob as she wrapped her arms around his small body. For a moment, brother and sister just clung to each other, a tiny pocket of warmth in this cold new world. When she pulled back, his face was blurred, and she had to blink away the emotion.

“Need you to help me, okay?” she asked, and saw him flinch as a spatter of blood hit his face. Blood filled her mouth, which she quickly spat out. “Can you help me?”

A hot ache had begun to consume her side, pulsating from a rib that she thought might be broken. She guided Justin back to his car seat, taking care to check him for injuries. Pushing hair back from his somber face, she’d found only a small cut, a bump rising and already turning a painful black and blue.
Being small has its advantages
, she thought, and then buckled him back into his car seat.

“Here,” she said, pulling his thumb up for him to grab. “You hold on to this for me.” Her plan to make him laugh didn’t work, and he dropped his hands back down.

“Where’s Mommy?” he asked. His eyes were large, glancing around, searching. “Your phone?”

Emily had forgotten about her phone, and reached around to find it. Her heart lifted when she saw two messages waiting for her. But they were older, many minutes older, and she wondered if she’d been knocked out. She grabbed the back of her head, finding the spot where it had hit the rearview mirror. Like her brother, she had her own lump, and cringed when she pressed on the bruise.

“How long were you sitting on the floor?” she asked, but Justin only shrugged at the question. She held up her phone, letting the light from the display brighten his face.

“It’s Dad!”

“What’s he say?” Justin’s spirits were instantly brightened.

“The first message says that he couldn’t”—Emily stopped, her mouth went dry and her chest tightened—“he couldn’t get to work. He had to turn around.” Looking at the gray poison covering their car, she understood that what she’d awoken to that day might be forever.

“What else?” Justin asked, not understanding the magnitude of the first message. Emily swiped her thumb across the second message.

“He says that he’s on his way to the mall!”

“What else?”

“Just those two,” she told him. “No more messages. None for a while, now.”

“Tell Daddy we see him at the mall,” Justin clapped, showing her a toothy grin, and then stopped and leaned forward, staring past her. “But Mommy. Gotta get Mommy, too.” Justin pointed a nubby finger toward the front.

Emily turned—and her heart leapt into her throat. Standing outside the car door was the ghost of a woman, her body eaten away by the poisonous fog. Blood streaked down the woman’s face, taking with it clumps of skin and hair. Her mouth lay agape, her jaw horribly broken. The sight was too much, and Emily had to turn away from it. She shuddered, trembling, tried to make herself look, but kept her eyes down. A pang of shame bit her for not being stronger. Lifting her chin, she caught her mother’s stare. There was horror and despair in those sunken eyes, but there was also something familiar. Something parental. Protecting. Emily cried out to her, reaching for the front seat.

“Mommy!” Justin cried. “What happened to Mommy?”

“Justin, keep your eyes closed! Don’t you look up!”

“But, Mommy! Why does she look like that?”

“Cover them up, Justin.”

“I’m covering them… I’m not gonna look.”

“Good boy.”

Before Emily could reach her mother, she watched her fall, heard the sound of her body scraping against the car.

“Justin, keep your eyes covered!” Emily yelled, her heart breaking when her brother began to cry. She made her way back to the front, spitting more blood from her mouth. The woozy feeling that had threatened earlier had been replaced by the horror of what had happened to her mother. She must’ve been hit by the other car, and now the fog was eating her. Emily tried to open the car door, but it wouldn’t move. She pushed, straining, until stars filled her eyes. Her mother was lying against the door, holding it back.

“Mom!” Emily screamed, banging on the window. “Momma, you have to move away from the door!” Two bangs rang out, confusing her.

“What?” she asked. “What? Mom, let me open the door.” Her voice was broken by a heavy sob.

Another bang on the door, followed by a scraping sound against the metal. Emily pressed her head against the window. The glass was cold, and a foreboding sense filled her. It was the same feeling she’d had when Ms. Quigly had called to them from outside their home.

“But Mom!” she cried. “Please…
please
let me open the door.” Her mother hammered again, objecting. Justin whimpered, then called out to her. Tears dropped from Emily’s chin, and her warm breath fogged the glass.