Containment (33 page)

His father was gone, but his echoing laughter remained.

Just seconds later, the inside garage door was flung open and the darkness was flooded with several bright beams of light and some loud voices. “What is it?” “Did they get in here?” “What do you see?”

“It’s only me,” Malachi said apologetically. “I’m in here.”

Dr. Caldwell’s disembodied voice said, “Malachi? Where are you?”

Malachi finally freed himself from the tangle of tools and stood up. “I’m over here. Just tripped is all.”

Dr. Caldwell’s voice was now full of empathy and concern, “Malachi, you’re bleeding. You okay?”

“I think so. I’m not...I mean, I don’t...”

“It’s okay, Malachi. Why don’t you come inside and let me see about stopping the bleeding a little.”

“No, I’ll be okay.”

“Malachi, I think you should get a look at it yourself then. You’re bleeding pretty good. At least come inside and wash up a little.”

Malachi let himself be led back inside where the doctor tended to the cuts on his face, his temple, and the side of his head. He also had a sizable welt on the top of his head where something had obviously hit him.

“Jesus, Malachi, you should be more careful. Those tools are a nasty bunch of characters. Maybe you should be hanging out with us instead.”

The joke wasn’t lost on Malachi. He even managed to crack a smile for a second. He said with some very welcome amusement, “Kinda like the moose in the woods, huh?”

Dr. Caldwell smiled and said in feigned protest, “Are you still giving me grief about that?”

“Nah. But it still kinda cracks me up is all.”

“Well I’m glad that I can be of entertainment to someone.”

“Doc,” Malachi asked, “if something were to happen to me, you know, like maybe I got the sickness that made those other people turn into what they are, would you level with me and tell me?”

“I guess I’m not following you, Malachi. Do you mean, if you got bitten or something, would I tell you about it?”

“Forget it. Never mind.”

“Malachi, you’re not sick, but I think you should try to eat and maybe even get some uninterrupted sleep.”

At first Malachi didn’t answer. He just shook his head. He was having the hardest time finding his voice. He forced out the tiniest of sounds that barely escaped his chest, “I can’t. I’m too...afraid.”

Dr. Caldwell straightened himself up and tried to reassure the man, who was clearly struggling with something. “We will watch out for you. Those things won’t be able to get to you. You should get some rest so that when the fight does come, you’ll be able to fight back.”

“I can’t. It’s not that simple.”

“We’re here for you, Malachi. Let us help.”

Desperate now, Malachi pleaded, “But you can’t protect me from
him
. He can wait. He’s as patient as eternal time. He wants me.”

“You’ll never be alone. You’ll be safe.”

“Nothing’s safe from him.”

“Malachi, at first I thought you were talking God or Jesus. Now, I’m not so sure. This would at least be a different version of either of them than I’ve ever known. Even Old Testament God in all his wrath and vengeance, and death from above wasn’t as bad as all that.”

“He’s no God and Jesus wouldn’t have him.”

“Who then, Malachi? Who is it who is so threatening to you?”

The conversation, if it could be called one, was over. At that point, waiting for a response from Malachi was like waiting for a winning number to be called on the Powerball Lotto or the elusive and infamous check in the mail; sure there’s always that outside chance that it’ll come but it’s probably not worth anticipating.

Dr. Caldwell waited a second or two longer and then said, “Come with me, Malachi. Come up and get a bite to eat.”

Malachi hesitantly followed Dr. Caldwell up the stairs. If Dr. Caldwell could get some food into his belly, maybe he could coax him into some rest too. The psychosis, dormant while they were moving, was returning in earnest and Malachi’s exhaustion was only feeding it.

When the two men were back upstairs, Dr. Caldwell found a place to sit in the living room.

Neil asked him quietly, “How we doin’?”

Dr. Caldwell shook his head and admitted honestly, “I don’t really know. I think it’s important that he gets some rest and nourishment. I would have referred him to a mental health specialist long ago.”

Emma got up from her spot on the couch and left the room. She still wasn’t willing to entertain discussions about the police officer, especially if it led to showing him any sort of compassion. He’d tried to rape her and that was a fact. The rest of it was merely speculation and she had neither the stomach nor the tolerance to speculate when it came to him.

Still, she no longer felt threatened by him the way she had when they were first on the run from the hospital. That seemed so long ago; a lifetime ago, and getting further and further away with each dawn. She looked at herself and tried to remember the woman that she was. Her fingernails, once finely sculpted and manicured, were broken and worn and held the dirt of a refugee under them. Her clothes too were dirty and stained, and probably smelled awful, though she had largely become desensitized to such things. She didn’t have a mirror but she didn’t need one to be able to imagine the tired lines on her face or the grime that was settling there. She felt like a different person living in a different time.

She wandered out onto the back deck and watched Art, Dave, Meghan, Gerald, Evelyn, and little Jules talking out in the fenced yard like it was just another normal autumn barbecue. She couldn’t hear them. They all seemed to be smiling and carrying on, though, neither of which interested her. She just stood against the railing and looked up at the sky, whose grey hue and cool disposition resembled the skin of the undead. It wasn’t raining at the moment, but the suggestion was still in the air, which left moist, cool kisses on the skin.

Back in the living room, Neil looked at Jerry and Dr. Caldwell and asked, “So what do we do now? The zekes know that we’re here, or at least are still around if they don’t know our exact location yet. There’s no way we can stay here much longer and not risk getting trapped again.”

Dr. Caldwell looked over at Malachi sitting at the dining room table and eating his soup. “Seems like we’ve had this discussion before under similar circumstances.”

Jerry lamented, “Yeah, but then we had a car as a way out. We’re on foot now.”

“All the more reason that we put together a plan before we get found out,” Neil said.

Meghan rose earlier than anyone else. She rolled away from Neil’s arms and stood quietly, hoping not to disturb any of the others sleeping nearby, and wandered out onto the back deck into the cool morning air.

Once outside, she found that she had risen before the sun. To the east, above the silent, hulking Chugach Range, the smoldering embers of the waking sun were just starting to cast a grayish purple glow behind the peaks. Like paint spilled on the canvas of the sky, the dull luminescence gradually spread itself up and out, crowding the dark purple bruise of the night out of reach.

“Beautiful,” she whispered.

The voice behind asking, “What was that?” caused her to jump a little. Art smiled and asked again, “What’d you say?”

Meghan turned back to continue watching the growing hints of dawn and replied, “I said that, despite all that’s happened and all we’ve lost, something as beautiful as this could still happen. If the sun keeps coming back day after day, then maybe there’s a chance for all of us.”

“Unless the sun just doesn’t care or maybe it’s just doing it out of habit–doesn’t know any better and so just keeps doing its job day in and day out. I’ve known lots of people who did that in the past.” Sensing that perhaps he was causing her to withdraw, Art corrected course. “I think I like your take on it better. It’s more poetic and hopeful, both things that I’ve come to admire about you.”

Still standing behind her, he placed his hand on her shoulder and rubbed it gently. When she didn’t stop him or recoil from his touch, he let his other hand move to her other shoulder. He then proceeded to massage her shoulders, neck, and upper back in wide, searching circles.

Still looking away from him at the mountains, Meghan asked, “If we’re all gone and there are none of us left to see it, will sunrises still be as beautiful?”

“Of course they will be.”

She turned suddenly and looked at him with her piercing blue eyes. “How? If there’s no one here to see, then how? And why? What would it matter if the sun never showed its face again and everything around us simply withered and died and the earth just became a lifeless rock like the moon?” She shook her head and held back the tears, though the sorrow was finding it easy to stamp itself across her face. “I’m sorry. I guess I was lost in the moment. I...”

Art cut her off by kissing her fully on the mouth. At first, she didn’t do anything but accept his mouth against hers. He was warm against the still cool air of the morning. Not seconds later, she pushed him away and moved to the other side of the deck. She didn’t speak or even look at him.

He whispered, “Sorry. I just...I guess I...sorry.”

Still not looking at him she said, “It’s okay. I guess I was sending out some confusing messages wasn’t I? It’s just that in the past few weeks, I’ve...we’ve been through an awful lot and I guess I’m as mixed up as I’ve ever been.”

“You don’t have to apologize. I probably stepped over the line.”

“No you didn’t. It’s just better that it doesn’t go any further than that. Okay?”

“I’ll do my best but I can’t promise anything. You’re just special to me and sometimes it’s hard not to express it. Can this be our little secret?”

“Yeah. In fact, it’s probably better that this just stays between the two of us.”

“Can’t argue with that.”

With that said, Meghan went back inside to find something to satisfy the growing hunger building in her stomach, leaving Art on the deck to himself.

When he was alone, he couldn’t help but smile. He did like Meghan and hoped that, perhaps when all of this was over, somehow they would find a way to be together. If it worked out that way, he wouldn’t complain a bit. She was lovely in both appearance and spirit, but the reality was that there were hundreds, thousands, and maybe even more women who fit that description. If it didn’t work out with Meghan in the end, he was certain that he could find someone. For the time being though, he was pretty sure that he could count on her to be a friendly voice for him when he couldn’t be there to represent himself in discussions.

Still no sleep. Can’t. He won’t let me. No peace. Only rage; only fear. Why does he hate me? Why won’t he let me sleep? I’m his son. Pain in my stomach. Is that him? Is he there cutting me from within? Have to stop it. Have to stop him. Need peace. Need sleep.

Mother, where are you? Why don’t you protect your little Malachi from him anymore? Where have you gone? Am I forsaken? Have you turned your back on me for good? Have I not paid for my sins? Is there no redemption?

God, help me. Give me strength. I don’t think I can do this anymore; not alone. Give me a sign. Show me the way. Is it blood you want? Please. Storm is rising, threatening. No end in sight. No rest. No hope. Can’t keep this up. Won’t keep this up.

If I’m to go to Hell, he’s coming with me....

Art and Dave wandered away from the others, who were distracting themselves in the fenced back yard and enjoying a brief respite from the damp autumn weather. Seeking privacy from prying eyes and listening ears, the two men stepped inside the back door that led into the garage.

“There’s more talk about moving on again,” Dave said. “What are we gonna do about it? It just doesn’t make sense to me that we’d leave this place only to go searching for another.”

“Who’s talking about leaving?”

“The three guys who are always talking about what the rest of us are going to do. Who do you think?”

“When? Did they bring it up with you?”

Dave shot Art an incredulous look and wrinkled his brow with doubt. “No. D’you think they’d actually involve me? Those guys would no more have me around when they talk as they would you. It’s definitely us and them, even if they don’t know it yet. And right now, they’re in charge and I don’t see how we are going to change that. I mean, what happens to all of us if they’re wrong and we leave anyway. What are we going to do?”

Art paused and peered out the window at the group in the yard. The little boy and girl were chasing each other around while the adults watched. Emma and Meghan were sharing a bottle of water. Art was pleased to see that Meghan wasn’t standing in Neil’s shadow as she normally was. Maybe she was re-evaluating the nature of their relationship, especially in consideration of how it affected Art’s relationship with her. Because they shared a secret now, he felt like he held some sway over her.

He asked Dave, “Why does gold have value?”

Confused and doubting whether he heard it correctly or not, Dave asked, “Why does what have what?”