Prep For Doom Page 28

  Rushing to get it done, she grabbed a mish-mosh of canned goods, first aid, books, clothes, Nate’s softest blanket. Her favorite family picture would fit, too. In the photo, she already stood taller than Mom, but they all shared the same dark hair, brown eyes. She wrapped it in her new scarf, then packed Nate’s iPad, squishy toys, Matchbox cars.

  And dog food. She couldn’t forget dog food. Bailey thought about leaving Scout with Mrs. Alvarez, but it was too painful. They’d already lost too much to leave him behind.

  Before her last trip downstairs, she hovered outside her parents’ bedroom. She’d called the town but no one came for their bodies. Behind the closed door, they rested side by side in bed, covered with extra sheets from the linen closet. She wanted to say goodbye, but she couldn’t stand the thought of looking at their bloody faces again.

  After Mom and Dad became sick, Bailey had tried to care for them, but in the end her mother had made her leave them to die alone. “Promise me…” Mom was too weak to finish, but she didn’t have to. Bailey knew that she needed to take care of her brother.

  She’d given Nate a bath because he loved splashing in the tub. Then she’d dressed him in his orange-striped PJs, put in his favorite DVD, and held him while they waited for the Fever.

  Only it never came. Somehow they were immune.

  “I promise,” she whispered to the closed door. “I promise to keep him safe.”

  * * *

  “Get in the car?” Nate put on his coat despite the July warmth.

  Derek arrived in his little Honda Civic with a bag of cheese crackers for Nate. He wore the pale blue shirt Bailey had given him, the one that matched his eyes. She pretended not to notice.

  She pretended, too, that this was an ordinary road trip and that they weren’t leaving home for an unknown future. Nate ate his snack quietly in the back with Scout’s head resting on his knee like any other day.

  They’d hoped to arrive in Kingston before dark, but it was slow going. There were no other moving cars on the road, so traffic wasn’t an issue. The problem was the stopped cars. People had fallen ill and died as they tried to escape. Vehicles littered the sides of the road, often blocking a lane, with the driver still behind the wheel. Some cars had entire families in them, dead. She didn’t want to see the bloody eyes, the bloody everything.

  “Ouchy,” Nate said, pulling the hood of his coat over his head. Sometimes he processed more than she realized.

  She wiped her face frantically, relieved to see tears instead of redness. If Derek noticed her crying, he didn’t say anything.

  Bailey was almost grateful for nightfall, the darkness that helped hide the horror. As they traveled farther north, the abandoned cars lessened and Derek picked up speed.

  “We’re going to spend a lot of time with each other,” he said. “Don’t you think we should clear the air?”

  Bailey gazed out the window into the blur of trees that lined the highway.

  “About Hannah,” he said. “I screwed up. It didn’t mean anything.”

  “It doesn’t matter anymore.” Their fourteen months together happened in another lifetime. Weariness settled over her.

  “I’m sorry. I—” A loud clunking from the front of the car interrupted him. “That’s not good.”

  “Do you think it’s a tire?” she asked.

  “It sounds more like the engine.”

  She checked the GPS. “We’re miles from the exit.”

  The noise grew more insistent. Scout whined in the back seat.

  “We should stop. I need to walk the dog anyway,” Bailey said.

  “Go potty,” Nate chimed in.

  “Okay, I’m pulling over,” Derek said. “Maybe I can figure out what’s wrong.”

  He found a spot away from any abandoned cars. They clunk-clunked to a halt.

  “Can you take Nate?” Bailey turned her phone light on. “I’ll take Scout. I have to go too.”

  “Backpack,” Nate said when they got out.

  “We’re not going to school.”

  “Backpack,” he insisted.

  It was easier to give in than to argue. She popped open the trunk and handed the backpack to Nate.

  “You should lock the car,” she told Derek. “Everything we own is in there.”

  “Like there are so many thieves around.” He gestured with outstretched arms. “We’re probably the only living people for miles. But if it makes you feel better.” He clicked the remote before pocketing the key. The beep sounded obscenely loud.

  “Come on, big guy,” Derek said to Nate.

  They went right; Bailey headed to the left. She didn’t want to venture too far from the road. Scout wagged his tail, sniffing the ground. “Let’s be quick,” she told him. It was eerily quiet except for wind rustling the leaves and an empty plastic bag trapped on a branch.

  On the way back to the car, Scout stopped in his tracks. He growled, a low, menacing sound from the back of his throat, staring through the trees. Bailey could only see shadows. What was taking them so long?

  Then Derek yelled like he was in pain. She ran toward the edge of the woods with Scout by her side. “Derek?” she called into the darkness. “Nate? Where are you?”

  “Go!” Derek screamed. “Run!”

  No. Bailey couldn’t go anywhere without Nate. Scout pulled hard on the leash, barking toward the woods. “Nate!” Moving in the direction of Derek’s voice, she glanced around frantically. She spotted a flash of orange—her brother’s coat. He walked toward her as she rushed to meet him.

  “Hurry, Nate!” She wasn’t sure what the danger was, exactly, but if Derek told them to run, it must be bad. What made him scream?

  “Super green light,” she encouraged, trying to sound calm as she finally clutched his hand. She couldn’t panic him or else he would cry and shut down. “Let’s go to the car.”

  “Bang,” Nate said.

  “Bang? Like a hammer?” She didn’t have time to analyze Nate’s reaction. They kept moving until they reached the yellow Honda. Maybe she could drive it closer to the woods and shine the headlights to find Derek.

  Bailey grabbed the door handle. Locked. She’d insisted that Derek lock it and he had the key. They were stranded without it.

  Somewhere nearby, firecrackers exploded. Then she realized: not firecrackers. Gunshots.

  “Bang bang,” Nate said.

  Someone in the woods had a gun.

  “We need to find another car. Fast.” In the distance, a white sports coupe rested on the highway’s shoulder. She pulled Nate along. Scout growled but kept pace. She checked around them, but didn’t see anyone. “White car, Nate.” She gripped his hand. “Run to the white car.”

  They raced ahead. She needed the car to have keys in it. But that meant there would be a dead person inside. It was a morbid thing to wish for—a car with a dead person and keys.

  They were in luck. A girl about Bailey’s age slumped over the wheel. Another victim of the virus, but at least she didn’t seem like she’d been dead for too long. Keys dangled from the ignition. “Get in, Nate.” Scout hopped on the seat beside him.

  Summoning her nerve, she leaned over the dead girl and unclicked the seatbelt. Scout started barking as she reached under the legs and around the back of the corpse. Nausea threatened but there was no time to be ill.

  She’d pulled the girl halfway off the driver’s seat when Nate yelled. “Bang bang!”

  He faced the woods. Bailey turned to follow his line of sight. Then she spotted him: a tall man in camouflage clothes had emerged from among the shadows. He held a small gun.

  Terror froze her in place. Then Scout tried to leap from the car. She stopped him with her hip. “Stay!”

  Grunting, she jerked the body from the car. “Sorry,” she apologized, dumping it on the ground. She slid into the bloody seat as the man charged toward them.

  Bailey slammed the door closed. Locks. She searched for the lock button, jabbed it with a trembling finger. The man approached, gun dr
awn. Her hand fumbled as she turned the key. She tried again.

  As the engine revved, she looked back one last time. No sign of Derek. She hesitated, but the shooter came closer. Time to go.

  She floored it, swerving left off the shoulder and onto the highway, but turned too hard. Cursing, she corrected toward the right. When they straightened out, she pushed harder on the gas. The speedometer climbed: 55, 65, 75. She’d never driven that fast and it scared her. “Seatbelt on,” she told Nate through gritted teeth.

  Scout stopped barking. A good sign. She glanced back. The door to the Honda was open.

  Their supplies. Everything they needed was in that car. All they had left was her phone and Nate’s backpack. She could only hope the man was more interested in their food than in following her. Still, she kept her foot steady on the gas. The car didn’t smell, but she opened the windows anyway, needing the fresh air.

  She continued north, but with a jolt she remembered that the exact address was still in her backpack. They’d also programmed it into the Honda. Maybe if she saw the street on a map, the name would come back to her.

  Another thought had been rattling below the surface of her mind. The man had opened Derek’s car. That meant he had taken the key from him.

  Bailey couldn’t lose hope. Derek knew where they were headed. He would figure out a way to meet them, maybe find another car the way she did.

  They had half a tank of gas, Nate’s backpack, and the car’s navigation system. It could be worse, she reminded herself as she gripped the steering wheel. Still, she checked the rearview mirror every few minutes, fearing the man would appear behind them in the Honda. She accelerated with her heart pounding as she realized: he could find them. He could follow the directions in the GPS.

  “Peaches, please.”

  She jumped at the sound.

  “You’re hungry?”

  “Hungry,” he said.

  “Okay. A few more minutes, then we’ll stop.”

  As much as she wanted to reach the bunker tonight, her nerves were at the breaking point. She would feel safer once they were off the highway, off the GPS route, in case the man in camouflage came after them.

  Maybe they should have stayed home, down the block from dear Mrs. Alvarez. Her stomach twisted at the thought of her own bed, of the couch Nate loved to snuggle on, of Derek at her kitchen table.

  She could turn back. She could go home, get help, look for Derek.

  But even as she considered it, she knew it wouldn’t happen. Going home wasn’t necessarily safer, not for long. They needed to find a community of other survivors.

  Finally, they reached the sign for their exit. She checked the mirror for the hundredth time. Still clear. They crossed an overpass. To the right, lights twinkled in the distance. Lights meant life, people, and safety. For the first time in hours, she relaxed her shoulders.

  She followed the exit ramp off the highway. Miles later, they still hadn’t reached the twinkling lights, but the area seemed quiet and Scout had relaxed.

  None of the road names sounded familiar, but Nate fidgeted in the back, so she turned onto the nearest side street. Darkened houses lined the block, but the streetlights offered a comforting glow. She stopped the car and listened. Crickets chirped. No one screamed. She took that as a good sign. “Hand me your backpack. Let’s hope we have something left to eat.”

  She surveyed their remaining supplies. One family photo. Her sunset scarf. Five cans of peaches. A box of granola bars. A large baggie of dried dog food. Toy cars. A box of crayons she didn’t remember packing.

  It would have to do.

  They ate in the car: Nate slurped his peaches, Scout gobbled kibble from her hand, but she couldn’t bring herself to take more than a bite of a granola bar. During a short walk with the dog, she stayed alert for signs of danger but the street seemed calm.

  “We’re going to sleep in the car, Nate. A special sleepover.”

  “Blanket?”

  She sighed. “We don’t have a blanket.”

  “Blanket!”

  Uh oh. Nate had held it together the entire day. He couldn’t last much longer.

  “You need a blanket?”

  “Mommy?” he said. “I want Mommy.”

  Bailey could barely breathe. She bent over with her hands on her knees. She wanted Mommy, too. She forced herself to inhale deeply, to exhale, again and again, until she could finally function. “Okay. We’ll find a blanket.”

  The third house she tried was unlocked. A single lamp lit the family room. “Hello?” she called. When no one answered, she took two blankets from the couch and a chair.

  She spotted a bathroom next to the kitchen. “Use the potty,” she told Nate. After he went, she scrubbed off the dead girl’s blood. Then they used the blankets to carry some food and bottled water. She tried not to think about possible bodies upstairs.

  They holed up in the locked car, as comfortable as she could make it. She stayed in the front seat in case they needed to leave quickly; Scout nestled against her brother in the back.

  He rubbed Scout. When Nate finally looked at her, she had to ask.

  “When you were with Derek, did he go to sleep?”

  “Sleep.”

  Bailey closed her eyes a moment, tried to compose herself. She couldn’t tell if Nate was repeating words like he often did or confirming her worst fears. “Derek was sleeping in the woods? He was lying down?”

  “Derek sleep.”

  “Okay. Night night, Nate.”

  “Night night.” Without prompting, he added, “Love you.”

  “I love you, too.”

  When he slept, she used her phone to call Derek. He didn’t answer. Listening to the recorded sound of his voice made her ache. “Hi Derek. It’s Bails…. I know you’re sorry. I’m sorry, too.” Hanging up, she sobbed quietly.

  Weariness settled inside her. Inside her bones. Inside her heart. Bailey stared into the night for a long time.

  In the morning, a rhythmic zipping noise jolted her awake. She jerked her neck to check on her brother. He rolled an orange Matchbox car back and forth, back and forth, along the edge of the seat. Two cans of peaches littered the space next to Scout’s sleeping head. Nate had been up early and he’d been busy.

  Sunlight streamed through the car. “Go potty,” Nate said when he noticed she was awake.

  Bailey forced herself to eat the rest of the granola bar while they walked Scout, then summoned her courage to return to the house from last night. It seemed worse in the daylight, somehow, but they used the bathroom and washed as best they could.

  Back in the car, she started the engine, opened the windows, and checked the GPS. Finding the shelter could be tricky. The more she studied the map, the more each street name sounded vaguely right.

  She wondered what it would be like there. Dad had said that some people were better prepared for an outbreak than others and that if they were lucky, those in the bunker would help them. Would they let just anyone enter? As an EMT, Dad’s skills would’ve been in demand. But not everyone would welcome a girl, her autistic brother, and their dog. Turning off the car to save gas, she considered their options. Bailey wished she could find the source of the lights from last night.

  Nate put his toy car away. “School bus?”

  “Not today.”

  Closing her eyes, she tried to remember school, the hum in the hallways on Friday at dismissal. She could almost hear kids laughing.

  Her eyes flew open. She did hear kids laughing.

  “School,” Nate said.

  He must have heard it, too. Somewhere, nearby, a community existed. A joyful community.

  Bailey drove with the windows down, trying one street, then another, until she turned onto a road which ended in overgrown shrubs. Behind them stood an old chain link fence, the same kind that surrounded the playgrounds at home. It would be better to investigate alone, to make sure it was safe before bringing Nate along, but leaving him wasn’t a possibility.

  S
he knew they were running out of choices. The gas in the car wouldn’t last much longer and driving aimlessly wasn’t exactly a plan. Turning off the engine, she strained to listen. For a moment, she heard loud clunking, exactly like Derek’s yellow Honda. Was the killer looking for the bunker, too?

  Someone shrieked. Bailey gripped the steering wheel, but the shriek was immediately followed by giggles.

  “My turn!” a little girl’s cheerful voice yelled in the distance.

  “School?” Nate unbuckled his seatbelt.

  “Wait.” She undid her own seatbelt, then hurried to his door, grabbing Scout’s leash before he jumped out. As they walked through the gate beyond the thick shrubs, Bailey grasped Nate’s hand while keeping Scout close on her other side.

  Ahead on the left, a group of kids played on the swings. Some of the parents sat on benches, smiling as they watched. It looked like a normal morning except for the adults with guns who guarded the playground.

  Nate pulled her along. Scout wagged his tail at the excitement. The guards wouldn’t shoot two innocent people and a dog, right?

  “Orange!” Nate said.

  “I don’t have any oranges.”

  He pointed. Someone had propped up a large piece of plywood facing the gate. “Orange Blossom Community” was painted in block letters, with a big orange peace sign underneath.

  Relief washed over her. For the first time since leaving home, hope fluttered in her chest. Anything with orange in the name couldn’t possibly be bad.

  Bailey heard the Honda again, clunking even closer now. “Come on, Nate. Let’s meet some new friends.”

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  It was all a lie. Sidney wasn’t sure why that surprised her, but it did. Distracted from her musings by the rhythmic stomp of the PFD soldiers marching by the front of the house, she cringed. Why exactly did a company that made medicine and vaccines have a private army already on staff, ready to go when the local government turned to them for help shortly after the outbreak happened?

  A better question was, why hadn’t she seen the signs before she let her mom drag her and Vivi here?