Devil’s Wake (20 page)

“What are you talking about, man?”

“ ‘Mickey’ was probably short for Michelle. They were two chicks holed up in there.”

Terry felt spun. He could only clearly remember corpses and a tangle of freak limbs from the armory, but he was sure he’d seen a man waving his rifle. “No way.”

“Ask the Twins. They saw it too. And they’re praying she goes both ways.”

Terry glanced back at the Twins at the table, who were staring in Ursalina’s direction with laser eyes. Full of longing.

Terry could only shake his head. “Never crossed my mind,” he said. “All I see is a chick really trashed over what happened today. Man, woman, whatever—Mickey was the glue holding Corporal Cortez together.”

“True, true,” Piranha said. They fell silent.

This time, Terry felt eyes on him, so he looked over his shoulder. Kendra’s kitchenette was close enough to eavesdrop. She gazed at him for three seconds before dropping her eyes, her pretty lips curled in a smile.

After Piranha went outside to join Sonia on watch and Ursalina
returned to the bus, Kendra sat next to Terry on the couch, staring at the useless TV screen across the room. No one bothered turning the knob. No electricity, no point. But a stash of candles she’d discovered beneath the kitchen sink gave the little room decent light. She definitely wouldn’t sleep on the bus tonight, she decided.

Kendra realized she felt awkward with Terry. In some ways, they had nothing to talk about; in other ways, everything.

“I wonder…” Kendra said. “If we had power, would we find a channel?”

“Don’t think television signals go as far,” Terry said. “Is anybody out there broadcasting?” He sighed, shrugging. “Who the hell knows.”

“We’re gonna try this Threadville place?” Kendra said. She’d overheard Terry and Piranha talking on the bus.

“We’ll take a vote in the morning, I guess.”

At least Northern California was closer to Devil’s Wake. Kendra knew she was only one vote, and hers probably counted less than anyone’s except maybe Ursalina’s, but she wanted to go where Grandpa Joe had suggested. An island was safest. Could she make Terry an ally? She’d seen something on his face when she mentioned Devil’s Wake.

“If you could make a wish, go anywhere,” she began, “where would you go? I mean… Is there anyone you want to find?” Kendra said.

Terry sighed sharply. She was sure he would stand up to cut off their conversation, but he finally said, “In a perfect world? L.A. My sister Lisa’s there.”

Kendra wanted to go to Southern California too! But after what they’d seen in Vancouver, the idea of L.A. iced her bones.

But she tried to sound hopeful. “Well, if you know where she was…”

“I don’t,” Terry said. “She was with an aunt who turned out to be as big a druggie as our mom, so she ended up in foster care. Because of me.”

“Because of you?” Kendra said. Terry had peeled up the edges of something hard, something terrible, and for some reason he wanted to tell her.

Terry took a bite of his beef stew, swallowed it like a rock. “My dad died in a car crash when I was ten. He was awesome, the only good decision my mom ever made. My stepdad, well, he did some stuff to my little sister I made him regret. She told me about it, and I redecorated his ass with a nail gun. Just wish I’d killed him. At least he got arrested too, and he died in a prison fight, so that part worked out. Any more questions?”

Six months ago, it might have been the worst story Kendra had ever heard about another kid. Grandpa Joe had always complained that her parents had protected her too much, hiding life’s sharp cor
ners. Kendra realized, for the millionth time, how absurdly lucky she’d been. She’d glided through her comfortable days with no idea.

“They arrested
you
?” she said.

“ ‘We can’t take the law in our own hands,’ ” Terry said, mimicking a female judge. “But that worked out too. She sent me to a wilderness camp to work off my anger, and we were all there on Freak Day. That’s how we survived.”

“So you’re all… ?”

Terry grinned for the first time in hours. “Badasses. You bet. Assault, confidence games, and cybercrime.” He pointed at Piranha. “Shoplifting”—Sonia. “Grand theft auto”— Darius. “All except Dean—he’s just hanging out with his cousin.”

Kendra was surprised. If she had had to guess which of the two cousins had taken the rougher road, she would have picked Dean. Darius had an annoying sense of humor, but at least he had a spark of life. Dean seemed… emptied.

Maybe Dean had been more like her, completely unprepared.

“Now it’s my turn,” Terry said. Unexpectedly, he took Kendra’s hand. His calluses startled her, like a rough glove. He spread out her fingers to pretend to study her palm, and she felt a jittery spark. “Let’s see… Only child.”

“How’d you know that?”

Terry only smiled, ignoring her question. He had a dimple that suddenly looked alarmingly attractive. Her hand seemed to squirm beneath his fingers. “Mom and Dad were always there for you… Never beat you… No drugs or alcohol for them, except wine at dinner… You pretty much got straight A’s… Private school…”

“Not after sixth grade,” she corrected him, eager to move past her parents. His vivid portrait of her family nostalgia stabbed her heart.

“The worst thing that had ever happened to you before the freaks? Maybe your grandmother died. Or your pet kitty.”

Kendra’s heart was pounding in a whole new way. She slipped her
hand away from Terry’s, suddenly nervous that her tingling palm would get sweaty. “I never had a pet. I lost two grandmothers when I was twelve, six months apart. That sucked.”

But not like it had hurt to lose Grandpa Joe. The stabbing came again.

“Let’s not talk about that stuff anymore,” Kendra said in a soft voice.

“Fine by me.” Had there been a note of triumph in Terry’s voice?
You mess with mine, I’ll mess with yours?
Then Terry sighed, playfulness gone. “You mentioned a place before… an island you heard about?”

The room seemed to brighten. “Devil’s Wake. My grandfather always monitored his shortwave, and he’d heard it was safe. They’re selective, but he said my aunt could get us in.” She blurted it out, eager. In truth, Grandpa Joe hadn’t promised her that Aunt What’s-Her-Face could get anyone else in. But why not?

Terry chuckled grimly. “Devil’s Wake? Where’d it get
that
name?”

“No idea.”

After a pause, Terry went on, his voice solemn. “But to be honest, Threadville sounds like a bunch of weirdos to me. We’re headed south anyway. If we hear any good news on the radio about Devil’s Wake… if the island’s for real… who knows?”

Kendra smiled.
Maybe
sounded a hell of a lot better than
no.

“Really?” she said in a small voice. “You think the others would agree?”

“In case you didn’t notice,” Terry said, sighing, “it’s not like we have a whole lot of places left to go.”

Then he got up and walked outside. Kendra was immediately sorry for prying so much. Had she pushed him away?

For the first time since her rescue, Kendra was alone. The solitude in the little cabin sat on her chest like a dead horse. Images of infected children running toward her flashed across her mind’s eye.
The red-crusted eyes at the bus window, staring at her somehow. She was almost sure she could hear gunshots.

Kendra’s breathing accelerated, racing with her pulse. Why couldn’t she catch a good breath and hold it? The back of her neck seemed to burn with ice.

Dad wasn’t here to tell her to exhale slowly from her diaphragm, and Mom wasn’t here to be Mom.

Yes,
alone.
It wasn’t natural, being alone. That was what Ursalina and Mickey couldn’t live with, why they’d given up everything to chase a bus full of strangers. That was why Kendra had trusted Terry and the blue bus instead of running away. That was why Lucy had never let go of her little one’s hand so many aeons ago even though it had meant slowing down and being buried in the ash.

The tears were starting. Every orifice felt plugged, burning her. Suffocating her.

Kendra tried to swallow back the sob in her throat, afraid it would be a scream.

She froze when she heard Terry shout from outside. Hipshot barked wildly. Kendra closed her eyes to brace herself, her finger ready on her pistol’s trigger, ready for the end of the world.

“Snow!” Terry yelled. “Hey, it’s snowing!”

When Kendra shuffled to the front door, she stared up with a child’s wonder at the fresh, delicate white flakes floating from the sky, dancing in the strobelike flashlight beams. The snow fell fast, in glittery clumps, as if making up for lost time.

The Twins were whooping, already fashioning small, powdery snowballs they collected from the ground. Terry joined them, the boys yelling and laughing, flicking snow at one another, trying to shove ice into one another’s clothes while Hipshot barked and ran in circles among them, his tail wagging merrily as if they were all at Christmas camp.

Where were Piranha and Sonia? Then Kendra saw them: they
were slightly off to the side, near the crater left by the explosion at the gas pumps, holding each other. Kissing. She’d never seen them kiss like that—the way her parents used to kiss, never caring who was watching, ignoring Kendra’s
Ewwwwwws
before she understood what a gift they were giving her. Seeing Piranha and Sonia filled her with unspeakable peace.

Love
could
survive, even if it was only one night at a time.

Ursalina’s ghostly face was framed in the bus window, her palm pressed against the unbroken pane of glass as she stared out at them, watching her new world unfold; laughter, love, sparkle, and moonlight. And just maybe, one day, healing.

Kendra wished she were an artist instead of a writer. She wanted to capture it.

It might have been the most beautiful night of her life.

December 18

A
shallow
heap of snow resisted Terry as he opened the door. He gave an extra nudge. Cold air woke up his pores. In all directions an endless mantle of white dappled with a few fir branches and corners of buildings.
A new world,
Terry thought.

He just hoped the road was navigable.

No one was waiting outside. Dean and Darius walked behind him, always wired. The cold had finally driven Ursalina inside with the rest of them overnight, and Piranha and Sonia had traded their shift from the warmth of the inside windows.

“Lookie here,” Darius said, pointing. “We had company.”

Out at the edge of the road, a few yards from the door, they found a large cluster of human footprints and herringbone motorcycle tracks in the snow. Not good.

Piranha bounded from behind them. “No way! I didn’t see anybody.”

Maybe Piranha or Sonia had fallen asleep at the window, or maybe it had been too dark to see outside. Terry had learned long ago not to waste time and energy trying to assign blame, unless a situation could be fixed. Piranha and Sonia often ended up on night
watch because Terry, Darius, and Dean spent so much time driving, but usually watchers got long naps during the day on the bus. No one had a nap yesterday.

Piranha glared at Hipshot, who was sniffing at the footprints. “Great job—as usual,” Piranha said, chucking a snowball at the dog. Snow puffed across Hippy’s coat. He yelped, then shook it off, tongue lolling happily. “Dog stew for dinner.”

Hippy whimpered as if he’d understood him. Hell, maybe he had.

“Quit it,” Sonia said.

“Anyone hear engines last night?” Terry said. “There’s bike tracks.”

Everyone’s heads wagged. Kendra and Ursalina emerged from the cabin last, both looking like sleepwalkers. But Kendra’s eyes were brighter, more alive.

“Knew I should’ve stayed on the bus,” Ursalina said, and for the first time she seemed genuinely engaged. She carried her rifle at port arms. “Eyes open, people.”

They followed Ursalina’s lead, bringing out their weapons. They fanned out a few feet from one another, scanning the area around the bus and cabin. Dean peeked around the corner nearest the woods sniper-style, hiding except for a dart of his head, his rifle resting against his shoulder. Ursalina crept toward the trees.

“Sneaky SOBs,” Darius said, studying the trail. He pointed near the bus, where the snow was crisscrossed with wide swaths of a wiping pattern. “Tried to cover their trail with a branch or something.”

“Snow was falling pretty hard ’til after midnight,” Piranha said. “One, two, even. They must’ve come after that, or the snow would’ve covered it all.” He stamped his foot, frustrated. “
Damn.
How’d I miss them?”

“Let’s deal with it now,” Terry said.

How many had come? It was hard to tell from the footsteps, but there had been more than one or two. Maybe as many as five or six—grown men, by the size of their feet. At least one of them in boots.
These hadn’t been freaks. Pirates could have burned them out, finishing the job someone had started before the bus arrived.

“They didn’t want us to know they were here, that’s for sure,” Terry said. “Walked their bikes up, walked them out. Tried to hide the tracks and footprints.”

“And they would have gotten away with it too,” Darius said, “if not for us meddling kids.” No one smiled at his Scooby-Doo riff. “Plus, they didn’t factor in the deadly tracking skills of an actual Suquamish Indian.”

“Yeah. That, and sunlight,” Piranha said. In the sun, the fresh coat of snow sparkled like miniature diamonds, making the footprints obvious from a distance. “Don’t get carried away, Squanto.”

“Let’s see, bro,” Darius said. “My great-great-grandfather was busy killing white people. What was yours doing?”

Ursalina let out a frustrated huff of air, disgusted with them already. “Hope nobody messed with the bus, or we’re screwed.”

The bus! The Blue Beauty was their lifeline.

Through the frosty windows, Terry could see the boxes still piled in the rear, but they spent the next five minutes examining their vehicle from top to bottom. No slit tires, no hidden GPS tracker, no lurking ninjas. Terry didn’t think the intruders had broken any windows or tried to open the door. Maybe they hadn’t wanted to risk the noise.