Rabid (9 page)

“I’m afraid to go in,” she said.  “My hopeful little vision is that my father made it out of town.  That he’s somewhere safe.  That’s what I
hope.
  But my imagination can come up with a whole lot more less appealing possibilities.  Like he could be lying dead on the kitchen floor.  Or turned into one of those…things.”

“You can’t think like that,” Taylor said, feeling as close to a piece of shit as he had ever felt.  His conscious prodded him to just come out and let her have it; give her the plain old truth of the situation, which was that her father was indeed one of those
things
, but that they didn’t have to worry about running into him inside the house.

If you had told her in the first place, you wouldn’t be standing here trying to convince her to come in,
he thought.

But he ignored his conscience for now.  Deep down, he knew he was taking the coward’s route and it didn’t sit well with any part of him.

“How do you know?”

“I tell you what,” Taylor said.  “I’ll have Carl wait here with you for a minute while I go check the house.  If it’s safe, I’ll motion for you guys to come in.  Sound good?”

Reluctantly, she nodded.

“Sure you want to go in there by yourself?”

“It’ll only take me a minute.”

“Seems like you’re the one taking all the chances,” Carl said.

“Calculated risks.”

“You’re an asshole.”

“Big brothers are supposed to be assholes.”

Carl watched as Taylor unfolded a corner of the canvas drop cloth and dug around until he found one of the flashlights. 

“Be careful.”

Taylor nodded and trudged off toward the house.

“Wait,” Tina said.

“What?”

“The house key is on there,” she said, pointing to the key ring dangling from the Escort’s ignition.

Carl fumbled around with the keys.  “Which one?”

“Let me see.”

After Carl had handed her the key ring, she went through them until she found the right one.  “This is it,” she said.  “I remember because it’s the one with the little fake ruby glued in the big end.”

Taylor bent down and thrust his head through the lowered car window.  “Is there a door in the back?”

“Yes.  Why?”

“I’m going around back.  Don’t ask me why.  I don’t have a good reason.  Seems safer.  Keep the key in the ignition.  Leave the engine off because it’ll make too much noise, but be ready just in case those things show up.”

“What about you?”

“Honk the horn.  I’ll know that means you had to take off.  Drive around to the other side of the block.  I can cut through the backyard, fences…whatever, to get to the street behind this one.”

There was only the pitter-patter of rain, and the sound of his shoes squishing as they plodded through the soggy grass. 

The urge to start smoking again hit him; this nagging feeling that came out of nowhere.  When he had first quit, the urge hadn’t been so haphazard.  It had come as naturally as any other routine act or emotion.  Something as simple as the phone ringing could trigger it.  Over time, those attacks had subsided, but once in a while, during particularly stressful situations, he would feel the need.  And he felt the need now in a bad way.  He found himself hoping that Tina’s father had smoked.  Maybe he would find a pack in the house.  Taylor thought he might cave to temptation if that happened.

By the time he reached the rear of the house, the moisture had penetrated his sneakers and was soaking into his socks.  He climbed the three cement steps, opened the screen door, and twisted the knob of the inner door.  Locked.  He took the key Tina had given him (there was indeed a small artificial ruby set into the metal), inserted it into the lock, and it turned smoothly.

He switched on the flashlight and pointed the beam into the house.  He was in the kitchen.  A square table with four chairs sat in the center of the room, a stack of folded newspapers on top of it, and several unopened letters resting on top of the papers.  There was a pile of dishes in the sink. 
Bet Daddy’s little girl does those for him when she comes home on the weekends,
he thought.

A cordless phone hung on the wall to the left of the entrance to the living room.  Taylor picked it up and pushed the TALK button.  There was no dial tone.

He performed a cursory check of the house.  He opened the front door, stepped out onto the steps, pointed the flashlight at the Escort and flicked the beam on and off three times in rapid succession.  He waited until he saw his brother and Tina exiting the car before going back into the house. 

When Tina was in the kitchen, Taylor said, “I didn’t want to snoop around too much without your permission.”

Tina opened the refrigerator.  “Not too bad.  I’ve seen it worse.  There’s almost a full jar of grape jelly.  Peanut butter’s in the cupboard.”  She opened a drawer and removed a loaf of bread.  “This will work.”

Carl helped her ransack the cupboards.  They organized the canned goods into two groups: take and don’t take.  The “take” group consisted of canned fruits, vegetables, baked beans, and three tins of sardines.  “They’re kind of nasty, but not too bad on crackers.  The ones in mustard sauce are better.”

Taylor searched every nook and cranny of the house.  No guns. 
That would have been too damn convenient.
  A heavy-duty safe sat on the floor at the back of her father’s bedroom closet, but he had no way of opening it.

He tried one of the other rooms.  Shined his light in and saw stuffed animals on a neatly made bed, posters of boy bands tacked to the walls.  Tina’s old room.  Taylor had no doubt that her father had left it untouched.  His daughter away at school, he probably peeked his head in the empty room once in a while just to be reminded of her.  Peering into that room made the house feel like the loneliest place in the world.

After having given the upstairs the proper once over, Taylor descended the stairs to find Carl and Tina still working in the kitchen.  Tina had taken a large cardboard box from somewhere and positioned it on top of the counter, slowly filling up with the odds and ends from the cupboards.

Taylor said, “I didn’t mean we had to pack for
weeks.
  I was thinking of enough for a day or two maybe, but you’ve got quite a collection there.”

“Better safe than sorry,” Tina said.  “I think I’d have to be starving to death before I could consider eating any of it, but it
is
edible.”  She topped off the box by adding the jars of peanut butter and jelly and carefully placed the loaf of bread on top.  It almost felt like they were getting ready to go on a picnic.  “One of you two will have to carry it to the car.  It’s heavy.”

“Any luck?” Carl asked.

Taylor shook his head.  “Nope.”

“I didn’t think he kept a gun in the house,” Tina said.  “In a town like this anybody that keeps a gun uses it for hunting.  My dad wasn’t a hunter.  Nobody really keeps a gun for protection.  Probably one of the few places left where people still leave their doors unlocked.”

Taylor kept thinking they had been stranded in an alternate version of Coldwater.  A town like this or a town like Coldwater, were probably endangered species this day and age, but he supposed there were still a few of them left.  Almost made you feel fortunate.  Like you were privy to a secret only a select few knew about.

 Taylor went into the living room and parted the slats in the Venetian blinds.  The street appeared empty.  The Escort parked on the street, looking more like a tired prehistoric animal.  The rain had let up.

From behind him, Carl said, “Well?  That everything?”

“Unless you can think of anything else.”

“A bazooka maybe,” Carl said, uttering a nervous laugh.

“Too big to lug around.  I’d settle for a shotgun.” 

“Or a Super Soaker.”

“That’s fucked up.”

“Hey, it would work.”

Tina said, “It’s so obvious the two of you are brothers.  You look nothing alike, but it doesn’t take a genius to figure it out.”  She tried to grab the box of food supplies, but it was too heavy.

“Here.  Let me take it,” Carl said.

“Grab the flashlight.”

Tina disappeared into the kitchen and returned a moment later with the flashlight, aiming the beam at the ground.  She handed it to Taylor.  He switched it off and peeked through the Venetian blinds again.

“Let’s get going.”

Taylor opened the door.  He held it open for the others and followed them down to the car.  He opened the back door, took the box of supplies from Carl, and motioned for Tina to get in.  He slid the box in beside her.  “You’re not a backseat driver are you?”

“No.  Why?”

“Bad joke.”

“It’s a tough audience tonight.”

“No shit,” he said.  He liked this girl.  She was different than a lot of the girls he knew.  She didn’t act like she needed to be saved.  At least not in the figurative sense, since given their situation, they could have all used a little saving.

He smiled at her and closed the door.

“I take it you’re driving?” Carl asked.

In answer, Taylor slid in behind the wheel.  “Tina?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor.  Hand the machete to Carl.”

Bet you never thought you’d hear yourself say that,
Taylor thought.

He wheeled the car around and they set off into the night.  He expected some unseen force to prevent them from leaving town, but they reached the highway without incident. 

Minutes of silence passed.  Finally, Tina’s home several miles behind them, Carl said, “It’s over a hundred and fifty miles.”

“About two hours.”

“Do we have enough gas?”

Taylor pushed his foot down on the accelerator until the speedometer hovered at seventy.  “I hope so,” he said.

He paid close attention to the gas gauge as though the needle wouldn’t drop if he stared at it long enough.  It was at the quarter tank mark.  Taylor had the distance figured at another hundred miles or so.  They would be cutting it close.

Tina had pushed the box of food supplies onto the floor and slept on the backseat like a cat curled up on a couch.

Carl had his seat reclined back, his eyes closed, but he would wake fitfully every few minutes.

“Bad dreams?”

“With you behind the wheel?  How can I not?”

Interstate 80 ran parallel to the highway.  It would slip into sight for a stretch and then disappear behind low hills or because of a gradual distancing, but they would always reunite later like old lovers.  Taylor had seen a fair share of abandoned cars sprinkled here and there; the same problem plagued the highway, but to a lesser degree.  Most of the vehicles they passed were parked along the shoulder or had veered off into the ditch.  He had come across an aging Chevy truck that was parked in the middle of the road, straddling the yellow center line, but had managed to slip around it by driving with two wheels on the gravel shoulder.

The storm had moved in the opposite direction.  Taylor had watched the clouds break away, thin out, and then dissolve altogether.  He cracked the window to allow in the cool night air. 

Billions of stars filled the sky.  Under different circumstances, he would have enjoyed setting up a lawn chair and stargazing for a while.  He wondered if Tina could appreciate something like that.  The two of them outside on a chilly night, bundled up in a heavy blanket, heads tilted toward the sky. 

Get your head in the game,
he thought.

His eyelids grew heavy.  Lack of sleep took its toll most fiercely when he was driving.  He switched on the radio, dialing through both the FM and AM bands.  He had tried the same thing fifty miles back, knowing full well it was a lost cause. 

One night.  Is that as long as it takes for civilization to be torn down?  I would have given us more credit than that.

They were driving through what was considered a remote area.  On a good day - a normal day - he could find a dozen or so stations on this same stretch of highway, five of which were at a listenable clarity.  Was it so hard to believe that those were defunct at the moment?  What they needed was to be near a big city; try dialing through again. 

Taylor remembered Tina’s cell phone.  He hadn’t been able get a signal in town, but Tina had said that wasn’t out of the ordinary, and that once you got going on the highway for a time - he thought she had said ten minutes - you were good to go.

“You all right?”

Carl’s voice startled him out of his bubble of silence.

“Yeah.  Why?”

“Just checking.  Let me know if you need me to drive.”  Carl’s eyes remained closed as he spoke.

“I’m good for a little while.  About a hundred miles to go.  Give or take.”

“This is it, huh?”  He scooted himself up in his seat, opening his eyes momentarily and starting at the road.  After a quick visual inventory, he closed them again.  “The shit they talk about on TV.  You see so many different doomsday shows anymore.  Volcanoes, comets and asteroids, nuclear explosions, global warming.  Probably a dozen a day.  None of them covered anything like this.”

“When they talked about the end of the world, I don’t think they had something like this in mind,” Taylor said. 

“Is it just me or has tonight seemed to last forever?  It seems like I haven’t seen daylight in forever, but it’s only been a few hours.”

Taylor cracked the window another inch.  The surge of cold air helped his sudden drowsiness.

“I can take over, dude.”

“Yeah, I’m fine.  Just need a slap in the face.  If you want to do me a favor, though, see if you can find her cell phone.  We’ll see if we can get service.”       

Carl sat up and twisted around until he could reach the back seat.  Tina was holding the phone in her hand.  Her grip had loosened now that she was asleep, and Carl was able to pluck it from her hand without waking her. 

“She fell asleep with it.”

“Probably waiting for her dad to call.  How many bars?”

Carl flipped open the phone, the display bathing his face in blue light.  “Three and a half it looks like.”

“Not bad.  Try calling Angie.”

Carl dialed and listened.  “Nothin’.  Goes straight to her voicemail.  That’s bad.  She
never
goes anywhere without that thing.”

“It doesn’t mean anything.  Could mean she was in a hurry.  If it rang through to her voicemail at least we know the towers are still working.  Try Mom and Dad’s.  Maybe their landline first.”

“Says the number is no longer in service.”

“Landlines are down.  Try their cell.”

Carl dialed the number.  Waited.  “Voicemail.”

“Try somebody else.”

Carl studied the keypad on the phone.  After a moment he said, “I don’t know anybody else’s numbers.  They’re all in my phone.  I didn’t memorize any of them.”

“Nine-one-one.”

“Nothing again,” Carl said.  “Makes a guy feel pretty fucking cut off from the world.”

Taylor gripped the steering wheel more tightly.  “I’m telling you, it doesn’t make any sense.”

“You’ve got that right.”

“It’s not just about what’s happened to people.”

“Rabies,” Carl said.

“Call it what you want.  None of this started until yesterday.  It’s barely been twelve hours.  Society can’t break down that fast.”

“How do you know that?”

“All right.  Maybe a natural disaster would knock out the power, the phones, all that stuff.  But I don’t get why that’s happening now.  The people that have that disease or whatever it is…they’re crazy.  Lunatics.  They obviously don’t retain much of the intelligence they had before they changed.  Look how long it took them to get into the store.”

“But they
found
us there.”

“What I’m saying is there has to be an explanation why everything’s down that fast.  We know Mom and Dad’s landline is down, too.  That leads me to believe that that’s the case everywhere.”  Taylor pumped the break as they came up on a vehicle parked along the side of the road.  The driver’s side door hung open.  Clothes were strewn on the ground around the vehicle.  There were no bodies.

“Where do you think they went?  There’s nowhere within walking distance.  And all those clothes on the ground.  That can’t be good.  Creeps me the fuck out.”  Carl rolled down his window as they passed the abandoned vehicle.  “Don’t see anybody in there,” he said, spit out the window, and then rolled it back up.

“Are you listening?” Taylor asked.

“I’m listening.”

“If those things aren’t much better than cannibalistic village idiots, what’s with the other stuff? 
They
didn’t take down the power.  So who did?  It can’t just be coincidence.  If it was only that one town maybe I could swallow it.”

“Yeah, I get it, it’s fucking strange.  But, honestly, bro, I could give a shit less about all that.  Does it really matter?  Solving riddles like that.  I want to get home.  I want to know that Angie and Mom and Dad are okay.”

“And I don’t?”

“I’m not saying anything like that.  I’m telling you what I
want
.  At this point, I just don’t care about the reason why stuff is happening.  Listen, you’re the only one out of the three of us that hasn’t rested yet.  Let me drive for a while.  Quit playing hero for a little bit and pretend you’re human like the rest of us.  I’ll swap out with you and drive the rest of the way.  Rest your brain, dude.”

Taylor sighed and then stopped the car.  He opened the door and the overhead light came on.

Tina woke from her fitful sleep and said, “What’s going on?  Are we there?”

“No.  We’re switching places.  Go back to sleep.”

She’s been through a lot,
Taylor thought. 
I hope it hasn’t taken all the fight out of her.
 

Carl adjusted the driver’s seat back a few inches.  “Damn you’re short.”

“It comes with old age.”

“Sure.  Whatever you say, old lady driver.”

“Just stay on the highway.”

“I know the way.”

Taylor leaned his seat back.  He closed his eyes and listened to the wind and the strange grumbling complaint of the Ford’s engine.  The rhythm of the ride, of every bump and dip and inconsistency in the road, soothed him.

You should have done this earlier,
he thought, feeling himself slip off into another world.  One that wasn’t ending.