Domino Falls (2 page)

“Yeah,” Dean said. He was stretching and twisting, almost like a snake shedding its skin.

“Never told us what happened there, man,” Piranha said.

“No.” Dean's eyes narrowed. “I didn't.”

He stood and walked up to the front of the bus. He had begun his nap an hour ago, chaining his Honda to the back of Blue Beauty, leaving his cousin Darius to scout ahead of the bus on his bike alone.

“Pull over, Terry,” Dean said. Terry was driving, as usual; as busted up as the Blue Beauty was after the pirate attack, Terry might be the only one of them who could manage the bus. Kendra usually sat in the seat behind Terry, but she'd moved closer to the supply boxes in the rear when she realized she couldn't stop staring at the back of his head, replaying their crazy, wonderful kiss on the beach in McKinleyville. If she distracted him as much as he did her, he might not be able to keep his eyes on the road. They didn't have the luxury of a high school crush.

Terry pulled over. They were on a stretch of farmland along the 101, maybe twenty miles south of Ukiah. Stalled cars were scattered along the road, but they didn't expect to run into real blockages until they got closer to San Francisco.

They heard Dean shift his bike down off the rack. Darius,
who had ridden up ahead of them, had circled back around to his side. Kendra watched Dean sadly, wondering what he had seen in his dream. She had nightmares too, and the images felt anything but harmless. Sometimes her dreams felt more real than the waking world, even if she didn't know which was more horrible. She was glad she didn't see her parents, or her grandfather, in her dreams—even though she missed them so much it was sometimes hard to breathe. But how could she select a handful of people to miss when the whole world might be gone?

Kendra watched Dean and his cousin talk through her window, wondering what they were saying. They were cousins, but so alike that everyone simply called them the Indian Twins.

“Hope he'll be okay,” she said as he boarded his bike, giving the starter a confident thrust with his scuffed boot. But she was really talking about herself.

No one answered Kendra. Maybe no one had heard her over the radio. Maybe none of them would be okay.

The radio was loud; a persistent nattering from a man who called himself Reverend Wales, from a town ahead called Domino Falls.
“. . . looked upon the burden, folks, and I said, YES, I can help build a haven. YES, I can give people hope. YES, the threads that bind us all can weave a new world from the wreckage of the old . . .”

Domino Falls. It sounded more like a game of chance than true sanctuary.

The Twins gave Terry the thumbs-up sign. Then they rode off ahead of the bus, together.

At times the 101 was a broad clear stretch of freeway, and at others, when
winding through one of the abandoned coastal towns, it was
little more than a two-lane road dotted with interstate signs. Here, just on the outskirts of a town composed of a pair of gas stations, a convenience store, and a motel, it was the latter. Doors were ajar, windows shattered. The empty towns always creeped Terry out. He didn't know what had happened here, but it was just more evidence of bad news.

Up ahead, the two cherry-red motorcycles had pulled over to the side of the road. Darius waved to Terry to slow down. Terry cursed under his breath. They had agreed that they had enough gas to keep going without stopping. They'd been lucky at the last checkpoint, but stopping could always lead to trouble.

“Something's up,” Terry said, keeping his voice even. He didn't want to panic the others, especially Kendra, but they had to be ready. Behind him, the familiar scurrying and clicking of metal told Terry that his little army was indeed prepared for anything.

“What's up?' Piranha said.

“Not sure yet.”

“If that's a freak, it's my shot,” Ursalina said.

Had Terry seen him all along? A few yards ahead of the bikes, a short, stout stranger in a gray shirt and a conical birthday hat was waving his arms at the bus.

Did freaks wave? Why were Dean and Darius letting him get so close? Any stranger was a freak or a pirate until proven otherwise. Both were deadly, but the pirates were worse. Pirates laid traps—like this fool in a birthday hat.

The Blue Beauty creaked to a halt. The man didn't seem to be armed, but that didn't mean there wasn't a sniper hiding nearby. Or a band of pirates out of sight. At the Siskiyou Pass, pirates had blocked the road and nearly killed them all. As Terry thought about it, phantom gunfire crackled in his ears.

“Why'd the Twins stop?” Piranha said. “So what if there's a dude in the road? We said we'd keep going.”

Ursalina checked her rifle's action. “Some people never learn,” she muttered.

Terry shrugged, sighing. “Maybe it's the birthday hat,” he said, and slipped the gear into Park. The engine growled disapproval. He didn't dare kill the engine, or the Beauty might not start quickly enough when they needed to go. Hell, she might not start at all. “Everybody stay close. Watch for movement.”

After the bus stopped, they all slowly climbed down, weapons ready.

Hipshot was the last, but the black terrier mix they'd inherited from Camp Round Meadow seemed reluctant to dismount. Not good. But Hippy wasn't barking a warning either. That . . . was telling. The man in the road wasn't infected. Hippy would know. Ursalina had told them that the soldiers at her base had called dogs PAWS—a Predator Advance Warning System. Dogs could smell the freak in people even before they turned.

Once they reached Dean and Darius, Terry gave them an irritated look.

“What can I say?” Darius said, grinning. “I can't pass up a chance to party.”

“Tweedledee and Tweedledumber,” Ursalina said, just loudly enough for them to hear. By silent vote, Terry was elected the one to make the initial approach. Protective coloration. Even Ursalina, the only one of them with military training, seemed satisfied to let him lead. Maybe she reckoned that hanging behind was safer than walking out front.

Terry walked within ten yards of the man, and stopped short. The man's wide grin was unnerving, and Terry couldn't quite read the look on his face. He seemed happy to see survivors,
but there was something disturbing in his eyes.
So what if he's a little crazy? We're all bugnuts by now,
Terry thought. The man looked well-fed; in fact, he could stand to eat a little less. His clothes were grimy, but his skin and face were clean. He had somewhere to bathe. He didn't stink.

If he was just a survivor, like them, they might have to vote on whether or not to let him ride with them to Domino Falls. Terry, Piranha, Sonia, and the Twins had started out as only five, but they'd picked up Kendra and Ursalina since they'd left Camp Round Meadow. Now they might end up with more. But could they trust this guy?

“You out here by yourself?” Terry said.

“Merry Christmas!” he said. “No, it's me and my family. We don't see many people, and I need some people today. Would you follow me back to the house?” He was already turning to walk up the road.

“Need people. Why?”

The man stopped and turned. He winked. “Come on. It's Christmas! Well, it's almost Christmas, anyway. Can't fault folks for wanting company at Christmas.”

Christmas! Terry knew it was late December, so Christmas must be less than a week away. He'd felt a lack of holiday spirit in years past, but this year it felt ridiculous, maybe even irreverent, to think about Santa Claus.

“Ho, ho, ho,” Sonia said sarcastically. “Wonder what I'll steal
this
year.”

Ursalina snickered. “I could use some hair conditioner. Big-time.”

“Yeah, grab me that new iPad,” Piranha said. “The one with the freak alarm.”

“Shhhhh,”
Kendra shushed them. Kendra was the youngest in their group, only sixteen, but she already sounded like their
mother. She moved closer to Terry, curious about the stranger. Terry held his arm out, rigid, to keep her from getting too close.

“I'm sorry, sir,” Kendra said. “We'd forgotten all about Christmas.”

The man's grin vanished, and he suddenly looked grave. “Well, you can't forget Christmas. No, sirree. Not in our house. Always been a very special day. Come on! We were just about to cut the cake, but I heard your engine. You're the best gift of all. Guess you could say you're what I've been praying for.”

His grin came back, brighter than before. He turned and began walking again, expecting them to follow.

For a moment, they all stood in silence, watching.

“You heard the man,” Darius said. “There's cake.”

As if that settled everything. In a way, maybe it did.

“Okay, we'll follow him,” Terry said. “But we're getting back on the bus.”

The bus trundled along behind their guide and the Twins' motorcycles
down the empty road to a narrow path, where the stranger veered east. All joking had stopped once they were back on the Blue Beauty, and Kendra was glad. Jokes felt like bad luck. She wasn't afraid of the man, not exactly, but something gnawing at the edge of her awareness made her wish they had ignored him and driven on.

A two-story white-frame house stood at the end of the road, its blue and white trim well-maintained, the front steps a bit weathered, almost ratty. The man stopped to make sure they were still following, then he opened the unlocked door and walked inside. Kendra could hardly imagine leaving a door unlocked now, even for a short time.

“Honey, we're home,” Terry said, slowing to a crawl in front of the house. No one laughed. Hippy backed up in the Beauty's stairwell, shivering.

“See that?” Piranha said, nodding toward Hipshot. “That's mutt language for keep your butts moving.”

If they took a vote, Kendra wasn't sure what she would say.

“This is California,” Terry said. “Maybe we should play by their rules. Be good neighbors. We've had nothing but hospitality since we crossed the Siskiyous. Let's ride our good luck.”

The Blue Beauty sighed to a stop outside the house near the waiting motorcycles. Hippy lay in the aisle, looking at them. Not budging. Nothing quite right, nothing quite wrong. The Blue Beauty shivered enough to rattle the windows, the engine coughing.

“All right,
muchachos,
” Ursalina said. “We'll go in, but we'll be careful. Only two at first. We do a sweep—make sure there're no ugly surprises. If it's clear, we all go.”

“Keep the bus running, T,” Piranha said. “We're burning gas, so we can't stay long.”

“And if he's telling the truth?” Terry said. “What if there's a family and they want to come with us?”

They all looked at one another, except for Ursalina, who stared away. She probably didn't want to pick up any survivors, but she'd been the last in, so she couldn't complain.

“I guess they can come,” Sonia said reluctantly. Kendra noticed that she was holding Piranha's hand. Since the night they'd spent with sanctuary on the beach, Sonia and Piranha no longer behaved as if they were hiding. “Especially if there's kids.”

“Let's ask the Twins,” Piranha said, “but Sonia's right. As long as we have room, why not? They can ride as far as Domino Falls, anyway. No promises after that.”

There are no promises for any of us after that,
Kendra thought,
but she didn't have to say it aloud. They all knew that Domino Falls might be a trap. Ursalina was right: radio signals were a lure. Things that sound too good to be true usually were. If not for the beachfront paradise a hundred fifty miles back, they'd have had no reason to believe in the promise of Domino Falls and its claims of safety and normalcy. Just like they wouldn't have any reason to believe the word of a stranger standing in the road.

But they had to believe in something. Didn't they?

“Who's first in?” Terry said.

“I'll go,” Ursalina said. “I'll take Dean with me.”

They disembarked, stepping over Hipshot, and approached the house, walking no farther than the edge of the porch. Kendra tried not to be worried that the dog didn't want to follow them, but it couldn't be a good sign.

Silver cut-out letters were strung together on the front porch, reading Merry Christmas. They twisted gently in the wind, winding back and forth. Kendra heard happy holiday music from inside the house, and maybe the sound of laughter.
Grandma got run over by a reindeer . . .

“Where's Hippy?” Dean asked.

“Won't get off the bus,” Terry said.

“PAWS in action. Smarter'n the rest of us combined,” Ursalina told Dean. “Come in with me. We're sweeping the house for pirates.”

Dean looked from the bus to the house, weighing the matter. Then he nodded, his 9mm Hi-Point rifle at the ready.

The wait outside seemed interminable. The Christmas music changed to the Chipmunks singing about hula hoops, one of Kendra's favorites when she was young. The high-pitched revelry made her eyes sting with tears. She and her parents had sucked helium from balloons and sung along to that song every
year. The sudden memory was so vivid that her knees went wobbly and the sky seemed to dim.

After what seemed like forever, Ursalina and Dean came back out, trailed by the portly stranger. Only the stranger was smiling. He proudly held out a cake cutter he might have retrieved from the kitchen.

“Clear,” Ursalina said. “No one in the house. Looks like the family's out back. We saw them through the window.”

“Kids?” Sonia said, anxious.

Ursalina nodded.

“Just like I told you,” the stranger said, and waved them all along the side of the house. “Come on around. They're waiting.”

The little man bounced ahead of them to a backyard gate that lay open, walking lightly on the balls of his feet. Happy happy, joy joy. Could it be contagious?