Children Of The Mountain (Book 2): The Devil You Know (33 page)

We need to get inside and I guess this place will do as well as any so I turn off the road. I pick my way between the cars in the parking lot, heading for where I assume I’ll find the bowling alley. Another flash illuminates a long, low flat-roofed building straight ahead of us, the only feature along its squat length a covered entranceway. In the instant before it goes dark again I spot a single familiar figure, sitting in a chair behind the glass.

I stagger up to the entrance and push the door open; a flurry of flakes follows me in. As I bend down to let the kid off he raises an eyebrow but doesn’t pass further comment on it.

‘Been watching for you. Figured you’d get off the interstate once you saw the storm coming.’

‘Where is she?’

He motions behind him and I look over his shoulder. There’s a fire going by the counter where you rent shoes. Mags is curled up tight inside her sleeping bag next to it. I go to step around him but he holds one gloved hand out to stop me.

‘Best let her rest. She’s had a long day.’

He looks down at the kid.

‘You had any problems with it?’

I shake my head.

‘Alright. Let’s get it tethered then.’ He reaches down but the kid takes a step back and moves behind my leg. All I want now is to sit as close as possible to Mags and the fire and sleep but instead I find myself saying I’ll take care of it.

‘Suit yourself. There’s places at the back you can tie it.’

The glow from the fire doesn’t stretch much beyond where Mags is sleeping. I wind the flashlight and head down the way Hicks said. Screens hang from the ceiling, their gray surfaces thick with dust. Behind them rows of wooden lanes stretch off into darkness. I take the kid to the nearest one.

‘Alright here?’

He nods and sits on the floor next to one of the machines that returns the bowling balls.

I take out Weasel’s knife and make an incision in the tape around one cuff so it can be lifted then I rip it off. Once he has a hand free he removes the tape from his other wrist and finally his mouth and then he feeds his arms through the rack. I pass him a cable tie that’s already looped and he slips his hands through and ratchets it tight with his teeth. When he’s done he holds them up to let me see.

I walk back to the lobby. I just want to sleep now but there’s something I need to know first. Hicks is still sitting in the chair by the entrance, where I left him.

‘How’s she doing?’

He holds the thermos up to his lips and takes a sip, like he’s considering the question.

‘This is as far as we could make it.’

I’m not sure what that’s supposed to mean. I’m deciding whether I want to know more when he speaks again.

‘Virus has gotten a good hold of her, son. I’m not sure how much longer she can hold out, even on Doc’s meds. Only hope now is we get her to that scanner of yours quickly.’

I look back at where Mags is lying by the fire. We haven’t come as far as I’d hoped but if the storm clears overnight and we start out early I reckon we can still make it to Eden by tomorrow night. I just need one more day.

Hicks gestures in the direction of the bowling lanes where I’ve left the kid.

‘Any problems finding it?’

I look back at him and shake my head.

‘I ran into Truck and the others as we were coming back on to the interstate.’

He raises an eyebrow.

‘And how’d that work out? I guess not so bad seeing as you’re here and they’re not.’

I tell him about following the soldiers off I-81 at the Fairfax turnpike and how I accidentally bumped into Weasel while trying to steal their snowshoes.

He takes another sip from the thermos.

‘So what happened to him? There still a round in that weapon I gave you?’

I shake my head.

‘There isn’t, but Weasel’s still alive if that’s what you’re asking. Or at least he was when I left him tied him up in a KFC out by the interchange. I figure Truck’ll find him eventually; might just take him a while though. I dumped his snowshoes off the overpass. Unless they’re carrying spares that should slow them down a bit too.’

Hicks just nods.

‘You did good. Mind if I take that pistol from you now, though? Firearms make me nervous.’

I dip my hand into my parka and fish Marv’s gun out. He pulls the slide back and tilts the Beretta forward so he can see the chamber’s empty, then he thumbs the switch and ejects the magazine. When he’s satisfied he slips it into his pocket.

‘Alright, best you get some rest. It’s only a few hours till dawn and we’ve got a long hike ahead of us tomorrow.’

I head back to where Mags is sleeping, unfurl my sleeping bag and climb into it. The fire’s dying down and I don’t have it in me to go out for more wood to build it up again. I pull the parka over the top and close my eyes.

I’m already drifting down in to that place where thoughts no longer cohere when something in my pocket squawks. It occurs to me I never told Hicks about the radio, but when I look up he’s no longer in his seat and I’m too tired to go searching for him now. The last thing I think I hear before the weight of exhaustion pulls me under is a staticky voice that can’t possibly be right and then I’m gone, dragged into a deep and mercifully dreamless sleep.

*

I
T’S STILL SNOWING
when I wake, large ashen flakes drifting down out of a sullen sky, but the storm seems to have mostly played itself out. Hicks is back in his seat by the entrance, keeping watch over the humped gray shapes in the parking lot.

I’ve slept longer than I intended to. I sit up and look around. Beside me Mags is still curled up in her sleeping bag. I’m desperate to wake her but I figure Hicks is right; it’s best if she rests as much as she can. We have a long day ahead of us if we’re to make it to Eden tonight.

A few lumps of charcoal are all that’s left of the fire so I pull on my boots and parka and make for the door. I mutter a good morning at Hicks but he just looks back at me from behind those blinkered shades and goes back to staring out at the lot. When I get back Mags is sitting up, the sleeping bag wrapped around her. She’s got her back to me but I can see she’s rubbing her temple.

I sit down next to her and start building a fire.

‘How’re you feeling?’

She lets her hand fall back inside the sleeping bag and turns to offer me a wan smile.

‘Okay, I guess.’

It’s barely light out but she’s squinting. The circles under her eyes are black now. I force myself to smile back. She pulls the sleeping bag tighter around her.

‘Is it colder this morning?’

It’s not but I nod anyway.

‘Yeah, but I’ll soon have a fire going.’

‘Did you find Johnny?’

‘He’s in the back. I’ll go get him as soon as I’m done here.’

‘Is he okay?’

The news that I’d found him seemed to cheer her up a little, so I don’t mention what happened in
The Hogtied
. I set to work on the fire. As soon as it’s lit I put water on to boil and hand her one of Gilbey’s containers. She washes it down with the coffee and then asks me for a couple of Tylenol but shakes her head at breakfast.

As soon as I’m done with my MRE I head down to the lanes to cut the kid loose. The scant light that filters in through the entrance doesn’t make it much further than the fire and I find myself dragging my heels as I make my way back into the darkness. Tell the truth I’m worried what I’ll find. But as my eyes adjust to the gloom I can see he’s right there where I left him, sitting hugging the thick metal rails of the ball return machine. I don’t want to give up Weasel’s knife so I go looking for anything else that might do to free him. I find a boxcutter in one of the drawers behind the refreshments counter; the blade’s rusty but it’ll do the trick. I ask him if he’s okay and he hesitates for a moment but then gives me a thumbs up. As I lean in to cut the plastic ties I can see he’s been working on them and it doesn’t take much for me to finish the job. I throw the ’cutter away and hand him his medicine. When he’s taken it he asks for a strip of tape for his mouth then he puts his mittens back on and I tape them too, making sure to add a couple of extra turns for good measure. I start to make my way up to where Mags is sitting by the fire but he holds back.

‘What’s wrong?’

He points up towards the entrance and I understand. He’s already wearing his goggles but I guess they’re no longer enough. I tear another strip of tape and cover the remaining slit then zip his hood all the way up. I bend down and hoist him onto my back and we make our way up to join Mags. She looks up when she sees us and her eyes widen.

‘It’s okay, he’s taped pretty good. This is how we got here last night.’

I set him down next to her. She looks over at Hicks but he just shakes his head like he wants no part of it and goes back to eyeballing the parking lot.

We pack up our things and get ready to leave. Outside the storm’s moved on but the powder’s soft and deep from the fall overnight. I hoist the kid onto my shoulders. He wraps his arms around my neck and buries his head in my parka and we set off.

All morning we trek steadily north. Hicks takes us out to the interstate at the first opportunity. We can’t be that far from Hager and I think sticking on 11 might have been faster but I don’t reckon there’s much in it so I don’t argue the point. The road curves this way and that but at least it stays pretty flat. I keep checking behind me to see how Mags is doing. Hicks is breaking trail and I’m following in his footsteps, so the snow she’s treading’s as packed as it’s going to get, but before we’ve gone much more than a mile she’s struggling.

We pass an exit sign for Falling Waters and shortly after there’s a succession of overpasses. The last of them has collapsed and we have to take off our snowshoes and pick our way down through the rubble. Hicks clambers up the other side. I let Mags go ahead of me; I can hear her breathing hard inside her respirator as I follow her up. When we reach the top I ask if she wants to take a break but she just shakes her head and waves Hicks on.

The road swings east for a couple of miles and then starts a long, slow descent. We come to a faded yellow sign that says
Maryland Welcomes You
and a little ways further on we reach the Potomac. There are separate bridges for east- and westbound traffic; the westbound crossing’s given way but thankfully ours has held. I stop in the middle and wait by the rust-spackled guardrail for Mags to catch up. Beneath us the river flows sluggishly south.

We reach Hager soon after. Hicks stops at a large stone church on the far side of town. A bell tower with a tall steeple looms over us as we trudge up to the entrance and unsnap our snowshoes. Two heavy oak doors bar our way but they’re not locked and we step through into a darkened foyer, our boots shedding snow on the cold stone. Stained-glass windows sit high on the walls on both sides but they’re carrying a decade of silt and grime and they admit little light.

Hicks chooses a spot near the door and sits with his back to the wall. I set the kid down and ask how he’s doing. He hesitates for a moment then nods tentatively so I unzip his hood.

‘It’s pretty dark in here.’

He lifts the goggles onto his forehead and squints around. But then he catches Hicks pulling the thermos from his backpack and scurries off into the shadows.

There’s a stack of hymnals that have been missed that’ll do for a fire; I gather them up and use the last of the gas to get it going. Mags wraps herself around the coffee I make but shakes her head when I offer her an MRE and just asks for a couple more Tylenol. While she’s taking them I go through her pack and throw out whatever she won’t need to lighten the load. She looks like she might object when I find
Owen Meany
so I jam it into the inside pocket of my parka instead. When I’m done Hicks raises the thermos to his lips and looks over at me.

‘How much further we got, kid?’

‘We’re close. I reckon we can be there tonight.’

‘So what’s the plan?’

‘We go in as soon as we get there.’

‘Sure you’re up to that? You won’t need to rest up or nothing?’

I don’t need to look over at Mags to see how she’s doing. She started coughing again as we were coming into Hager, and that worries me. The kid’s no better; he’s barely holding it together now. He’s been squeezing my shoulder for the last hour, asking to be set down, but we don’t have time to wait while he sorts himself out. I shake my head.

‘Fair enough. You have the code for the blast door?’

I don’t, but I nod anyway.

‘Alright. And what’ll we face when we get in there?’

I hesitate. The truth is I don’t know. Up until now my main concern’s been that Kane would send Peck to Mount Weather for us at the earliest opportunity. Now if I’m going to get Mags to the scanner I’d much rather he and the Guardians weren’t in there waiting for us. But they could well be, and I guess Hicks deserves to know what he’s up against.

‘Kane’s secret service agent, Randall Peck.’

‘He any good?’

‘Yeah.’

‘Anybody else?’

He already knows about Kane. Quartermaster used to be the Secretary of State for Defense but I suspect it’s been a while since his fingers fitted a trigger guard. I tell him about Scudder. He was a soldier too, even though he was mostly Eden’s maintenance guy.

‘That it?’

‘And maybe six Guardians.’

‘Guardians?’

‘Kids like us that Peck has trained. He used to keep two of them at the portal. Another two patrolling inside.’

‘Armed?’

‘They could be.’

Hicks shifts his jaw, like he’s considering this.

‘Alright, then. Well, it’s your show from here.’

*

W
E TAKE
I
-64 EAST
out of Hager. For a long while the highway runs straight. Giant billboards clutter the fields on either side. Most have collapsed, the metal supports weakened by rust or virus, the wind and the storms doing the rest. Those that still stand look down on us as we pass, their tattered hoardings showing weather-faded images from a world that no longer exists.