Ashes (17 page)

The dead meat stink was very strong now.

“Deidre,” said Larry. His lips trembled, and he rubbed at them with one shaking hand. “She's only thirteen. I don't blame Marlene, I really don't. Not after what we saw. But I couldn't leave Dee. I only hit her the one time, when she came after me. That was enough, though. I know I can't …” His voice firmed. “The change might not be permanent.”

Tom touched the old man's shoulder. “How long has she been like this, Larry?”

“Out of control? Only the last four, five days, but the change started about two, three weeks ago, I guess. She started complaining about not feeling right. Lost her appetite and her mood changed and then … well, she's a little bit of a late bloomer. That's all I thought it was.”

The confusion was clear on Tom's face, but Alex understood.
Late bloomer.
Her eyes found a battered white napkin dispenser hung from one wall, its cover open to reveal a stack of small, gray cardboard boxes. Larry must've broken it open. “She started her period.”

“First time. She got worse about three days after, and that was maybe a week ago.” Slow tears trickled into the deep rills on either side of Larry's nose. “Now she's only getting weaker. She'll drink, but anything solid I get into her mouth, she spits out. The last couple times I got close, she's tried to bite …” He skimmed tears from his face with the back of his hand. “Breaks my heart, you know? In some ways, she's still kind of a typical teenager. Like always waking up just when I'm ready to sleep. She'll stay up all night and only nod off again a couple hours after sunrise.”

Hormonal changes. Puberty? Alex stared down at the unconscious girl.
Her
periods had completely stopped over a year ago. A side effect of her many rounds of chemo, or the monster itself—Barrett didn't know which.

And how did hormones or puberty explain Tom? He was her age, way past puberty. And what about boys in general? Since boys and girls were different, hormones couldn't be the only reason—could they?

“Larry,” Tom said, “I'm sorry, but we can't take her with us.” He wasn't brutal about it, just factual. “Even if this might turn itself around, we don't know that.”

“I know. I wasn't going to ask. Everyone who comes through takes one look and then it's”—Larry wiped the air with one

hand—“
adiós, muchachos.
”

“You could come with us,” Alex said.

“I'm not leaving my daughter. The hell of it is she might not die if I let her go, but that would mean she'd go after—” Larry swallowed. “I can't do that either.”

Tom asked, “What do you want, Larry?”

“I can't …” Larry took a weak swipe at the air with the bat. “I can't do that. But you have guns. I'm not asking you to, you understand, but I only need two.”

“Two what?” asked Alex.

“Larry,” said Tom, “there's no need for you to do this. I could—”

“Two
what
?” Alex repeated, and then she got it. “No, Tom, you can't give him—”

“No.” Larry put a hand on Tom's shoulder and gave it a squeeze. “You seem like a fine young man, and I appreciate it, I do. But there are some things you're still too young for. She's my daughter. If anyone does this, it should be me.” After a brief silence, Larry added, “Please don't make me beg.”

Tom studied Larry a moment longer, then reached around for the Sig and withdrew it from its holster.

“Tom,”
Alex said.

Tom did not reply. Instead, he quickly jacked out the magazine, popped out every bullet except one, then reseated the clip.

“What are you
doing
?” Alex asked.

Tom checked the safety and then proffered the pistol, grip first. “Careful. There's already one in the chamber.”

“Thank you.” Larry wrapped his hand around the butt. “I'll take it from here.”

Tom didn't let go of the pistol. “You don't have to do this. All it would take would be the one.”

“But I'd always remember. No parent should have to live with that.” Larry gave a slow, sad smile. “A word of advice. You two and the little girl? There's a lot of anger out there, and fear. People'll either shoot you, or decide you're worth your weight in gold.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, you're an endangered species. I don't know about the rest of the world, but we had eight kids in our group when we started and not one survived. So you be very careful.” Larry clapped Tom on the shoulder again. “Go on now. I'll wait until you're gone.”

“That took a long time,” Ellie said as they piled into the truck. “Isn't he coming with us?”

“No, honey.” Tom cranked the truck's starter, and the engine caught with a roar. “He decided to stay behind.”

“Why?”
Then her eyes fell to Tom's waist and narrowed in suspicion. “Where's your gun?”

“We better go,” Alex said.

Ellie looked from Tom to Alex and then back to Tom, and Alex saw the moment the lightbulb went off. A look of betrayal replaced the confusion, and Ellie's lower lip began to tremble. “My daddy would never have done that.”

Alex put a hand on the girl's arm. “Ellie, that's not fair.”

The little girl shook her off. “Don't stick up for him just because he's your
boyfriend
.”

Alex's cheeks flamed. “He's not—”

“You're supposed to help,” the little girl said to Tom. “You're supposed to save people. That's your
job.
”

“I
did
help him, Ellie,” said Tom, with an effort. “It's just not as simple as you think. Everything's different. Nothing's simple anymore.”

“That's not true. Good guys don't help people die. My daddy would never—”

Tom rounded on her. “Well, I'm not your dad, all right? Your dad is dead, and I'm doing the best I can. Now I'm sorry if that's not good enough for you, but give me a break already! I didn't ask for this, and I didn't ask for
you—
” He clamped his mouth shut, but the damage was done.

Ellie's face went as still as polished marble. “Okay.” She didn't cry or shout, and every word cut the air as cleanly as a razor. “Fine.”

Tom was gray. “Ellie, honey, I'm sor—”

“Don't call me that,” Ellie said in her new, deadly voice. “Don't ever call me honey again. Only my daddy called me that, and like you said, you're not my daddy.”

Alex was almost afraid to breathe. Ellie turned away and stared straight ahead.

Without another word, Tom butted the truck into first, and they left.

After Larry's warning, they decided to stick to forested country roads. This also meant that they couldn't go very quickly either; the roads weren't in great shape and tended to swerve and curl, so they weren't able to lay down many miles. The only saving grace was that the snow held off. Alex drove while Tom literally rode shotgun, ready to blast anyone who might come roaring out of the woods to steal the truck or kill them or both. But no one came, and they saw no brain-zapped kids either. Alex kept her window cracked—for air, she said—but she didn't catch a scent that raised any alarms. They passed by a few mailboxes at the end of narrow dirt roads. Presumably there were houses back there, but they saw no one.

They did come to a single farm, but the house was dark and looked deserted, and in the air, big black birds wheeled. The sight set off a fluttery feeling in Alex's chest, and then she got a big noseful of rot—but it was real rot this time. She spotted lumps of soggy wool in a muddy, enclosed paddock—sheep that had died of starvation—and as they rolled past a fenced-in field, the chug of the truck made the crows whirl up in a cloud. In another moment, they'd settled back to feed on the cows, most so bloated they looked like balloons about to burst. Vultures quarreled over the bodies, and Alex spotted two sleek gray foxes playing tug-of-war with a tangle of guts. The only animal still standing in the field was a tired-looking, old dray horse calmly munching on a clump of weeds. The horse's head lifted as they passed.

“Hold up.” Hopping from the truck, Tom unlatched the fence's gate, then climbed back in. “For when it runs out of grass. It'll be okay.”

“Why didn't you just shoot it?” Ellie muttered, but Tom didn't answer.

When night fell, they'd managed a little under ninety miles, the last twenty on a snaky scratch of earth no wider than the truck. The ranger map was useless; the thin red squiggle marking the fire road had changed over to hyphens, a polite topographical symbol for an unimproved road. If the tall switches of dead grass sprouting in a Mohawk down the very center were to be believed, no one had been on this road—really, nothing more than a cut in the dirt—in years. The truck bounced and jounced in a squall of worn shocks as their speed dropped from thirty to twenty to ten and night leaked into the dense clouds, inking them black.

“We need to stop,” Alex said. “Even with headlights, this is impossible.”

“I know. Over there.” Tom gestured to the right. “Looks like part of an old fence.”

In the dimming light, Alex spotted a jagged post listing like the Tower of Pisa. Beyond, the ground was level, open, and overgrown, probably part of an old pasture gone to seed. She braked, jockeyed the stick into neutral, then killed the engine. “I think this takes being off the beaten path to a whole new level.”

“Yeah.” Tom popped his door and swung out. “Come on, let's set up the tent. Ellie, Mina needs to be let out.”

Ellie said nothing, but when Alex slid from the cab, the girl scooted out, waited until Tom had dropped the tailgate, and clambered onto the flatbed.

“Careful where you step,” Tom said. He held out a flashlight. “They might have used barbed wire for the fence.”

“I'm not talking to you,” said Ellie, digging into her Hello Kitty backpack. “And I have my own flashlight.”

“Best thing is to leave her alone.” Alex watched the bob of Ellie's torch and saw the dog weaving in and out of the light, its nose to the ground.

“Yeah.” Tom stood, arms akimbo, looking after Ellie as she waded through the field. “I really screwed up.”

“Hey, you're always talking about cutting myself a break. What about you? She's just a kid. Come on, let's set up the tents and get a fire going. We'll all feel better after we eat something.”

As they pitched the tent, she said, “I know you don't want to hear this and I know I wasn't much help back there, but now I think you did the right thing for Larry.”

Tom was pounding in a stake, so his face was hidden. “I'm having a hard time believing that.”

“Did you ever … I mean, over in Afghanistan, did you …?”

“Kill someone because he asked me to? A mercy killing?” Now Tom looked up. “No. I know this will sound stupid, but there's killing the enemy and then there's flat-out murder. There was this one guy in my squad, name was Crowe. He was all torn up. This EFP—explosively formed penetrator—blasted right through the Humvee and his helmet. Took out most of his face and half his skull. Didn't kill him, and when I got to him, he was conscious. So I was holding his hand, you know, telling him to hang on, and Crowe looked right at me—well, with the one eye that was left—and he said, clear as a bell, ‘Kill me
.
' I heard him okay, but I pretended I didn't, so Crowe said it again and kept on until he passed out. One of his buddies went to see him later, and Crowe said, ‘You tell that son of a bitch Eden he fucked up.'”

“He survived?”

“Oh yeah. Haven't you heard? The war's been great training for those brain surgeons. The upside is you live. The downside is you won't want to spend a lot of time around mirrors—assuming you're not a vegetable. Why do you think he wanted me to kill him?”

“But he
is
alive. He might not think that way now, Tom.”

“Alex, he was our age.” Tom gave the stake a final, savage whack. “If Larry's right, I'll give you three guesses what Crowe's like now.”

Ellie spent the evening not eating, and avoided them both. When Tom tried talking to her, the girl resolutely stared at the ground and hugged the dog until Tom gave up. Shortly thereafter, Ellie took Mina and ducked into the tent. For the next hour, Tom and

Alex huddled over a road atlas they'd found at the ranger station.

“Maybe we should double back,” Alex said.

“I hate doing that. It's just a waste of gas and time. Look, the map says this levels out, and we already know this is farmland, right? So there will be other houses along the way, which means that the roads have to get better. We keep on this, eventually it'll feed into that fire road, and that'll take us northwest, up around Oren.”

“Big town.”

“Yeah, and a lot of people.”

“How far?”

“Forty, fifty miles, give or take.”

“And the other choice?”

“We head southwest and then cut west. There's an old mine there and a pretty small town about thirty miles north of the mine. Actually, it doesn't look like more than a village.” He squinted close to read the name. “Rule.”

“So that might be better. Fewer people, anyway.”

“Maybe. I just wish I'd thought to stop at that farm. Might have been a truck or car and some gas.” He shook his head, his breath pluming. “Man, I'm not thinking straight.”

“You're doing way better than I could. I couldn't shoot anyone I know, and you cared about Jim.”

“No.” Staring into the fire, he sighed and let his hands dangle between his knees. “I mean, yeah, I did, but that's not all of it. Remember I said that I tracked him? Well, I had Jim twice before. I could've taken him out and probably should've. But I didn't. I was like Larry; it was like Crowe all over again. I kept thinking what if I was wrong; maybe he'd snap out of it and be Jim again. I just couldn't do it, and then it was almost too late. If Ellie hadn't screamed …”

“But she did, and then you saved us.”

Their eyes locked, and then he reached over and cupped her face with one hand. “Maybe we saved each other,” he said.

Alex took the first watch. “Go on. I'll wake you up around one, I promise.”

“Mmm.” Tom glanced toward the tent into which Ellie had disappeared an hour or two before. “I'm thinking I'd just as soon not risk waking her up. I'll put up the pup tent against the truck and sleep there.”

Midnight came. There were no stars and no moon, for which Alex was grateful. As she fed the fire, she wondered, dreamily, how long it would take for the moon to go back to the way it had been. Years? She yawned. The fire's warmth toasted her face and hands. Her back was cold, but the cold helped keep her alert.

She thought about Tom, too. She wasn't sure what was happening, or what all this meant. Her whole body hummed, hungry for his touch. It wasn't lust; it was the desire to be close, to be held by him.

She'd never had a boyfriend, never been kissed. There'd been one guy, very hot, a moony sophomore with long eyelashes named Shane. They'd gone out as part of a pack and swapped shy glances, but never hooked up. Then her parents died, and it was like she became radioactive, as if her friends weren't sure if having a good time was allowed, so they stayed away. Then she'd moved in with her aunt, changed schools, got to be the new kid in midstream. Then came the diagnosis, and her world became an endless round of therapy and hospitals and doctors.

She glanced over at Tom's pup tent. Had he thought about her before he fell asleep? Actually, knowing Tom, he might still be awake. So … what would happen if she slipped into his tent?

Or what if
nothing
happened?

God, she could see it now. Tom trying to let her down easy, telling her that they're under a lot of stress and this isn't the best way to start a relationship …

Leave it,
she decided. She didn't want to know.

The hour mitten on Ellie's Mickey Mouse watch hit one. Alex decided to let Tom sleep another hour, which became two, and slipped into three, and then—

A prod at her back. “Alex?”

“What?” She jammed awake, stiff and very cold. Fumbling with the Mossberg, trying to turn at the same time, she almost fell from her perch.

“Whoa, it's just me,” Ellie said. Mina was by her side, grinning, her tail whisking in the chill air. The night was nearly over and dawn showed as a dull pewter smudge on the horizon. Snow sifted down in a fine salt.

“Ellie.” She huffed out in relief, her breath coming in a cloud. “Don't
do
that.”

“I'm sorry, but you wouldn't wake up.” Ellie pointed. “The fire's out. I would've started it, but I was afraid I'd burn you.”

“Oh.” Now she saw that the little girl was cradling a stack of kindling. She glanced at Ellie's watch: seven o'clock. Beyond, she saw that Tom's tent was still sealed up tight—unusual, for him. “I guess I was tired.”

“Can I go ahead and—”

“Sure.” She crouched alongside the dead fire as the girl slid her kindling onto the frosted grass. Mina came to press against Alex's side and moaned as Alex ruffled the dog's ears. “You want me to help?” Alex asked.

“No, I got it,” Ellie said. She worked in silence, sweeping away dead, cold ash and then mounding fuel.

Alex watched as Ellie touched a match to shredded wood and what looked like milkweed. “Where'd you find the fluff?”

“Over by the woods,” Ellie said, not looking up. She blew a slow, even breath, and a tiny, orange bloom flared as the tinder caught with a crackle. Ellie carefully fed thin twigs to the flames. “I didn't go alone. I took Mina, and I've got the whistle.”

“I wasn't criticizing. You're doing great.”

“Oh.” Eyes still on the fire, Ellie chewed on her lower lip. “I'm sorry about yesterday. I shouldn't have yelled.”

Ellie's pigtails were crooked, hair corkscrewing out in unruly tufts. Reaching over, Alex hooked an errant blonde curl behind the girl's left ear. “You were upset with Tom. Me, too.”

Ellie cut a quick, sidelong glance. “You were?”

“Yeah. I didn't think what he did was right.”

“What about now?”

“I understand better. I think Tom's doing the best he can. We all are.”

“I don't want him to hate me.” Ellie's eyes pooled. “I don't want anything to happen to you guys.”

She wanted to promise that nothing would. Instead, she opened her arms. “Come here.”

Face knotted against a sob, the girl slid into her embrace, pressing her face to Alex's neck as Alex gathered her up and held her tight. Whining, Mina danced back then came to lean against Alex. After a few moments, Alex felt the girl relax and her muscles soften, and then Ellie's scent became fuller: nutmeg and warm vanilla. No one moved or said anything, except for the dog, which sighed and nosed Ellie's hair.

Beyond the orange rose of the fire, Alex saw Tom's tent shiver, heard the smooth zip as he opened the front flap, and then he was pushing his way out. His thick hair was mussed, and his face was still creased with sleep. “Alex, why—” He stopped when he spotted them and stood, uncertain.

Wordlessly, Ellie left Alex and made a beeline for Tom, who knelt as the girl flung herself against his chest. “I'm sorry,” Ellie said, her voice muffled by Tom's shirt. “Please don't hate me, Tom.”

“I could never hate you, honey,” Tom said. His arms hugged Ellie, but his eyes were on Alex. “I'm so sorry. I'll try really hard never to hurt you again.”

“Me, too.” Arming away tears, Ellie gave him a shaky smile. “I made the fire.”

“By yourself?”

“All by herself.” Alex swallowed against a sudden tightness in her throat. “Why don't you get cleaned up? I'll get breakfast going.”

“Can I take Mina for a walk?” Ellie asked. When Tom hesitated, she continued, “I'll be careful. I went out yesterday and it was fine. And I had to get stuff for the fire this morning.”

“Sure.” He chucked her under the chin. “Don't go too far, okay?”

“Okay,” and then Ellie darted in and startled him with a swift, hard kiss on the cheek. “Come on, Mina,” she called, dancing away.

The dog took three steps, paused, and then, tail wagging, looked back at Alex. “Don't look at me,” Alex said to the dog. “I have to make breakfast.”

“Mina!” Ellie stood in a thicket of brown meadow grass so high it brushed the girl's waist. Snow billowed around her shoulders in a soft, fine curtain. “Come on!”