Containment (39 page)

“Anybody got any ideas?” asked Neil.

Jerry thought for a second and then decided to ask, “Anybody ever go car camping?”

Claire responded, “Who hasn’t?”

“That was more of a suggestion than it was a question really.”

Dr. Caldwell, in a classic game show voice, said, “We have a winner. An all expense paid trip to sleeping in a van or SUV along Alaska’s great Highway One.” He followed his announcement with “Ding! Ding! Ding! Ding!”

There wasn’t the multitude of cars on this stretch of road as opposed to closer to Anchorage, but there were still a couple here and there. Maybe they would find a streak of good luck and happen upon a vehicle with space, keys, and fuel. Of course, that was a maybe as slight as a Pixie kiss and as rare as an honest attorney; not really a maybe to even be counted upon, but a maybe that did exist nonetheless. These were the kind of maybes that career politicians promised during stump speeches but had no intention whatsoever of ever fulfilling.

The first car they encountered was a small white Mercury wagon sporting the dents and dings of a well-used family car. Unfortunately, in the driver seat sat the desiccated remains of a woman, most likely the mother of the household. As Neil looked in through the closed windows, the woman’s eyes cracked open and peered up at him. Her seatbelt restrained her movement and the locked car door held her in her roadside tomb. Weakly but hungrily, she began to move herself back and forth in her seat.

Neil jumped back from the car like he’d been hit with an electric current. “I’d say this one isn’t going to do.”

Emma asked, “What should we do with her?”

Dr. Caldwell asked her seriously, “What do you mean ‘do’?”

“Well, we can’t just leave her like this. She deserves peace as much as any of us.”

Neil said, “The doors are locked and I don’t think that it’s wise of us to use our guns unless we absolutely have to. We can’t afford to—”

Meghan interrupted him. “C’mon, Emma. Let’s keep moving.”

“But we can’t just—”

“C’mon. We need to find a car soon.”

Emma was starting to let her emotions get the better of her for the first time in a long while, but listened to Meghan and allowed herself to be grudgingly pulled away.

Neil said to Dr. Caldwell and Jerry, who were the only two still standing next to the car, “There’s a dog in the back seat too. D’you see it?”

Jerry answered, “I do now. Looks like he was infected too.”

Neil asked him, “How you figure?”

“He’s got blood on his snout and those footprints on the seat in back aren’t mud, I suspect. I wonder who infected who in there?”

“Does it really matter?”

“No. I guess not.”

The next few cars were each inadequate or unsuitable in their own ways; too small, broken windows, or more corpses. It was looking like Jerry’s idea, though borne of good intention and possibility, wasn’t going to pan out. But then they saw it with its tinted windows and burnt umber paint beckoning invitingly in the strained and diffuse light of the fading overcast day.

It was a Toyota minivan sitting on the shoulder of the road. It was facing the wrong way on the highway, though that didn’t seem to matter. Its fleeing former occupants had left its doors open. There was a child booster seat in one of the back seats and a backpack sporting a Star Wars
The Clone Wars
logo and Clone Trooper on it. Luckily, there were no corpses, but there were also no keys. The van would at least present a relatively safe place to stop for the night and one where they could get out of the elements and perhaps stay somewhat warm.

The air was already cool with the threat of moisture hanging in it. So far for today, the rain had somehow luckily been held at bay, but they knew that the somewhat dry weather would soon be chased away by its mischievous wet autumn sibling.

Jules, who had been quiet all day long, whined, “I’mmmm cooollldddd.”

Meghan suggested to her that perhaps it would be better if she got in the van to warm herself.

“It’s cold in there too. Can’t we have a fire? Whenever we used to go camping with my mom and dad we always had a fire.”

At first, no one said a word but then Neil said, “That’s not a half bad idea. We haven’t seen or heard those things since we got away from base housing. If we didn’t have a big fire, we might get away with it.”

Dr. Caldwell asked, “Might?”

“Jules is right, Doc. If we all get sick because we’re all cold, hungry, and tired, where will we be then? I think maybe we should get ourselves some wood and build a small fire. Those things are moving pretty slow now, so if we see any of them we can just get back on the road and stay ahead of them.”

In a quick discussion, it was decided that Neil, Dr. Caldwell, Meghan, and Emma would gather wood while the others would prepare a campsite of sorts around the minivan. Just to be safe, Jerry would position himself on top of the van to keep an eye on the surrounding area.

Everything seemed to be plotted and planned when Danny asked, “Can I go collect wood too?”

Emma said apologetically, “I don’t know if that is such a good idea. What happens if you get lost out there?”

To which Danny replied, “What happens if you get lost? I want to help too and picking up sticks to burn is something I can do. Let me help, please.”

Dr. Caldwell’s raised eyebrow was enough of a message to Neil for him to say to the young boy, “Danny. You’re right. You are perfectly capable of picking up and hauling sticks for us to burn. Thank you for your offer.”

“Then I can go?”

“Of course you can.”

Danny jumped up with delight, his smile curling delightfully onto his cheeks.

“Hold on there. We’ve got to lay out some ground rules first. You follow every one of my instructions to the letter. You are never out of my sight. And if I say run, you run fast and hard until I tell you to stop. Got it?”

“Got it.”

“Okay, then let’s get going. Gerald, Claire, and Jules...you guys going to be alright with setting things up without Danny’s help?”

Gerald smiled. “It’s not going to be as easy without Danny’s help, but I think we can manage.”

“Good. Then let’s roll.”

Danny, as were the adults with him, was surprised by how dark it was after a mere few steps into the trees, as if the light was too afraid to venture into the forest. The recent rains and damp air had done their jobs on the otherwise crisp, crunchy ground by making the leaves and fading foliage a silent carpet upon which to tread. The absence of any appreciable light or sound created the impression that they were walking into an enclosed room instead of the fringe of a national forest.

Following Neil’s guidance, Danny gathered small fallen twigs and dry leaves that had gotten caught beneath larger sections of trees, thus having been shielded from the weather and left dry and usable for a fire. There were countless sticks and twigs but most were still wet and green, making them virtually useless for their purposes.

Each of them, Danny included, was carrying a flashlight, but the darkness out of reach of the limited cones of light just seemed all the more ominous and threatening, somehow defying the cosmic and eternal will of light itself. It just didn’t seem possible. And yet, the darkness continued to press its case, confining their lighted area in a tighter and tighter ring. They never ventured farther than a few feet from one another as they set about their task. They worked silently, as if their voices too were intimidated by the gloom’s advances. Like nervous birds gathering twigs for a nest, they picked through the undergrowth but always kept one watchful eye on the trees and the shadows all around.

In short order, they had accumulated quite a stash of fuel for the fire, despite the challenges. They were each toting heavy armloads and were heading back when they were all startled by the unmistakable sound of a footstep falling upon and breaking a stick. The crack and pop sent a rush of fear and adrenaline through each of their veins. They stopped as one and listened.

Emma asked nervously, awkwardly panning her flashlight around as it was balanced precariously between her forearm and her side, “Are we not alone out here?”

Remembering his and Malachi’s encounter with the moose out at Kincaid Park those many days ago, Dr. Caldwell said confidently, “Probably just a moose. Why would one of those things be out here? There’s nothing around. Where would he have come from? There’s no reason that they would be out here.”

Meghan answered, “Except us...you know, food.”

There was another snapping, this time closer. The acoustics of the forest, however, made it virtually impossible to determine the direction from which the sound was coming.

They were frozen in their tracks, no one certain what to do. Dr. Caldwell finally said, “Okay, let’s just head back. Doesn’t matter what’s making the noise if it’s far enough behind us.”

Meghan said, her discomfort evident in her voice, “That’s as good an idea as I’ve heard in some time. Let’s get goin’.”

Forming themselves into a tight column, they started marching toward the edge of the trees, barely discernible from their current position. Due to their loads of timber, they only had three flashlights between all of them being used to illuminate their path. Meghan was reminded of her experience with Jerry in the basement of the small church on Elmendorf. There, the walls that delivered some sense of security contained the shadows; there were only so many places from which a predator could emerge. Here, death could come at them from every direction. She was barely able to swallow the putrid taste of fear as it churned and gurgled her stomach acids until they rose to the back of her throat.

Neil and Dr. Caldwell were carrying the largest stacks of wood, the more sizable pieces of dry timber piled across their chests. The two men were breathing in quick, harried breaths, the result of both their muscle strain as well as their anxiety. As it was, they sounded like a pair of steam locomotives struggling up a hill.

They moved cautiously, trying to use their limited light to its maximum effect. The trek back to the highway seemed to be impossibly long, a terrifying journey seemingly without end.

Unfortunately it was too late when Danny realized there was more than fear upsetting his stomach. The dread’s presence was undeniable, but there was a tragically familiar underlying sensation, a buzz, that was making him more than a little queasy.

Danny was coming to that realization when the pale, tortured, seemingly floating visage of a ghoul appeared in his light beam. The creature was just a handful of feet away. The surprise sent Danny’s flashlight to the ground and Danny onto his back next to it. He kicked his feet violently, trying to do a version of the backstroke on the forest floor. He was fairly certain that his panting was accompanied by his own terrified screams, but he couldn’t be sure in the fog of his paralyzing terror of anything that he was doing or that was happening around him. Chaos gripped the moment too firmly in its clutches for him to be sure of anything.

Heeding Neil’s advice, when he was finally able to get back to his feet, Danny started to run. He didn’t care the direction or his ultimate destination; he just wanted to get away as fast as he could. The details could be worked out later when he no longer felt like a fleeing, hot meal ready to be served for dinner.

He ran blindly, somehow not running himself into a tree, until his chest hurt and the breaths just would not come no matter how hard he tried to draw air into his protesting lungs.

Any sense that he had about having felt fear before was completely dispelled when the awareness of his utter isolation in dark woods filled with monsters hit him. Without his flashlight, he didn’t even have the comfort of that lone beacon. He stood still, as still as he ever had in his life, and looked around in the pitch black. He’d never known dark so complete in his life. There was neither moon nor street lamps to light the way. He began to shudder, the cold suddenly making itself a more equal partner with both the darkness and fear. He couldn’t help the tears but he suppressed the sobbing that threatened to emerge as well, too afraid to draw attention to himself. The tortured seconds stretched themselves out into an eternity. He wanted to take a step and perhaps make his way back to the others, but he had no idea into which direction he should head or from which direction he had come. He had no idea what he should do.

With no options readily presenting themselves to him, he did the only thing that he could think to do. He sat down against a tree and wrapped his arms tightly around his frame, making himself into a little ball. He was sure to keep his feet under himself so as to keep his legs dry, but he got himself as close to the ground as he possibly could, hoping that any monsters that were still out there might just pass him without realizing he was even there.

He wondered to himself with a whispered doubt, “Why did I even come to Alaska?” He was then reminded of his friend Martin who’d asked him along on this journey to the north. Poor Martin. In his nightmares, he’d seen his friend’s tortured face as he was carried into the hospital’s emergency room, but that was about as far as his recollection extended concerning the boy.

He thought about Martin’s mischievous smile and accompanying laugh whenever he was tickled with something he’d done or seen. Danny thought about sleepovers and birthday parties. He remembered early Saturday mornings at soccer fields and late Fourths of July under a colorful shower of bursting pyrotechnics. But as his mind conjured memories, he couldn’t help but be visited once more by the image of Martin’s greying, agonized face shortly before he succumbed to the sickness that had started all of this suffering. The tears that followed were as much for his lost friend as they were for himself.