Outage 5: The Change (5 page)

"Yep."
 

"Where'd you come from?"

"Work. It was a long, cold walk."

They followed the man to the front of the house. Emily assisted her mother through the snow. Tom surveyed the driveway. A car sat buried in the snow. Several dead plants hung in an enclosed porch that led to the front door. Before opening the door, the man turned and said, "My name's Ranger. At least, that's what my friends call me."

"I'm Tom, and this is Maria and Emily."

"Good to meet you all."

Ranger swung the door open and led them into the enclosed porch, peering out the dingy windows. The wintry landscape was calm and quiet. Tom couldn't help but wonder for how long.

Ranger opened the main house door and led them inside. The interior of the house was as ill-maintained as the exterior. Several dirty couches were pushed sideways, exposing a ratty rug. Beyond it was a large fireplace. Wiggling his fingers to restore the circulation, Tom imagined a raging fire in the hearth.

As if sensing his thoughts, Ranger said, "I was thinking about getting some logs, but I was worried I'd call attention to myself."

"We ran into some others a while ago that weren't friendly," Tom affirmed. "Not everyone has the best intentions."

"Isn't that the truth," Ranger said, patting his shotgun.

After entering the house, Emily stood next to her mother, blowing on her gloves. Maria looked down at her ankle with a pained expression.
 

"Did you twist your ankle?" Ranger asked.

"I think so."

"I have bandages, I think," Ranger offered. "I can check for them, if you'd like. It might be best to wrap your leg up."

"That'd be great," Maria said.

Tom nodded, watching Ranger leave the room. He held on to his gun. As grateful as he was for the assistance, he wasn't foolish. He alternated his gaze between the window and his companions.
 

Maria crouched on the rug. Rolling up her pant leg and pushing down her sock, she inspected her ankle, which was clearly swollen.

"It feels worse over here," she said, pointing to the side of her foot. "I heard a pop when I stepped on that branch."

Tom grimaced. "It sounds like you sprained it."

"Taking a break will help," she said, trying to convince herself.
 

Tom hunched on the rug to inspect her injury, listening to Ranger rustle through cabinets in the next room. He assumed Ranger was alone, though he hadn't specifically asked. After a few minutes, Ranger returned with an ice pack and some brown gauze strips.
 

"Here you go." Ranger handed the supplies to Tom and Maria. "Maybe you can ice it. I know how funny that sounds, given the cold. But it might help."

"Thanks," Maria said, taking the ice pack and applying it to the swollen area.
 

"How long have you folks been out there?"

Tom said, "About an hour. We ran into some trouble a while ago, but we managed to get as far as here."

"I heard a gunshot. Was that you folks?"

"Yes," Tom said without elaborating.

"Other than that, I haven't heard much since last night. I think most of the people are gone." Ranger chewed his lip and stared out the window, cradling his shotgun. "They either left or got weeded out."

"It seems like it," Tom agreed solemnly. "You said you came from work?"

"Yes. Among other places," Ranger said. He stared at the fireplace for a long moment.

"How'd you get back home?"

"I was working across town in my antique shop when this thing started."

"Did they come after you?"

"Uh-huh. I was refurbishing a dining room set, trying to hit a deadline, when the storm hit. I figured I'd work on it for a while, then head out. I didn't plan on the roads being as bad as they were." Ranger paused to look out the window. "So I stayed at the shop. I had a wood stove. I was safe for a while, probably because the area was remote. Then the power went out and one of them found me."

"How'd you kill it? Did you use that gun?"

"No. I found this later. As you probably know, guns don't work against them. Having this just makes me feel better."

"So how'd you survive?"

"I fired a staple gun at it. The compressor still had air, even though the power was out. I must've hit it in the eye or something, because it roared so loudly I thought the windows would shatter. That bought me enough time to get out of there and get the truck going."
 

"Jesus," Maria exclaimed, setting down the ice. She started wrapping her ankle with the bandage.

"And that's when you went home?"

"No. The truck only lasted a few streets before getting stuck. I spent some time at another property, praying they wouldn't find me. It was a house littered with bodies. Maybe they didn't smell me through all the blood." Ranger swallowed. "That's when I found the gun. I ended up walking after that. I saw several dead police officers on the way. That was when I realized help wasn't coming."
 

"I wish I could say I was surprised." Tom shook his head. With a sigh, he recounted the same story he'd told to Maria and Emily, leaving out his injury. Then he told about their run-in with the men with the guns. When he was finished, Ranger bit his lip.

"From what you're telling me," Ranger said, "we have one more night to go."

"That's my understanding," Tom said solemnly.

Maria finished wrapping up her ankle. She drew her knees to her chest and shivered. Emily cupped her face and blew hot air against her cheeks.

"You know what? Maybe we should start a fire. If only for a little bit," Ranger suggested. "If those things are coming back tonight, we'll need all the warmth we can get."

"I won't argue with you. Did you say you had logs?" Tom asked.

"Yep. Outside." Ranger nodded. "They're covered with a tarp. We can keep a fire going for a little while and then douse it. There are a lot of trees around this property that will help shield the smoke. I can keep watch out the window."

"That sounds like a plan."

Ranger moved for the front door. Having the sudden thought that he might need help, Tom asked, "Want me to come?"

"Sure. I won't refuse another pair of hands."

Tom looked at Maria and Emily. "Will you be okay for a minute?"

"We'll be fine," Maria assured him.
 

On the way out, Tom instructed Emily to lock the door behind them. He waited for her to do it before leaving. Once they were outside, Tom scrutinized the area but didn't see anything threatening. Ranger led him to the side of the house. Along it was a snow-covered tarp, containing a pile of neatly stacked wood. Ranger tucked his shotgun under his arm and pulled a few pieces from the pile.

"It looks like most of the wood is dry," Ranger said.

"That's a relief." Tom studied the trees, ensuring they surrounded the house.

"What are you looking at?" Ranger asked.

"Just making sure we have cover. I'm a little worried about the smoke."

Ranger waved off Tom's concern. "The trees around the house should help us."

"I hope you're right."

Ranger pulled a log from the pile and handed it to Tom. "I'm not too worried about it, anyway. Are you?" This time he stopped and grinned. Tom hadn't noticed before, but it looked like his teeth were stained. His smile was wide enough that Tom almost dropped the log.
 

"What do you mean?"

"You can drop the act now that we're outside," Ranger said, nodding. "That was quite a story you told. Don't worry; you got dibs on 'em. I won't take them away. I can't say the same for the others, though."

Tom's blood froze as he realized what Ranger was saying. He stared at Ranger's cocky grin and tried to suppress the fear on his face. Looking closer, Tom realized Ranger's clothing was too large for him. On top of that, he'd taken a long time to search for those bandages.

"This isn't your house, is it?" Tom guessed.

"No. It's just where I'm holing up until the night comes. But you've got a great idea, Tom. Why not find the food before you have to hunt for it?" Ranger's smile grew wider.

Being in close quarters with the man, Tom was suddenly hit with an animal recognition so strong that he was afraid the man might read his thoughts.
 

Just like the dog sensed me
, he thought frantically.
 

He backed away from the woodpile.

"I assume the bunker story was a ruse?" Ranger asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Of course," Tom said, hoping his smile wouldn't give him away. "I'll warm up my friends a little, and then we'll be on our way."

"I won't try to follow you," Ranger said.

Swallowing his fear and disgust, Tom managed, "Okay."

"We'll tell them I'm stubborn and refused to leave."

A greater part of him wanted to raise his rifle and shoot Ranger, but what if that didn't work? What if the man was impervious to bullets, the same way the creatures were? He hadn't found that out yet. Worse yet, what if the noise drew others?

The safest course of action was to play along.
 

Tom took several pieces of wood from the woodpile and cradled them in his arms. He felt Ranger watching him, but he didn't dare meet the man's gaze again. Clearing his throat, he walked toward the house, quelling the cold terror in his stomach. He half-expected the man to shoot him in the back, but a minute later, he heard the crunch of Ranger's boots following him in the snow.
 

It took several minutes for them to get the fire going. In that time, Tom couldn't stop planning an exit strategy. He watched Ranger, hiding his uneasiness. Ranger sparked casual conversation with Maria and Emily, speaking of his antique restoration business, the storm, and his time living in Plainfield. Tom was unsure if the man's stories were true. He guessed most were lies.
 

Maria and Emily took off their gloves and held their hands by the fire. Tom hovered close by, afraid to let them out of his sight. He hoped Ranger couldn't smell his nervousness. He had little idea of what was possible. Everything about the change was new.

Since he'd come inside, the feeling of recognition had faded, but he wasn't sure how keen Ranger's senses were. Tom's only comfort was that his curse might've saved their lives.

After Maria and Emily had warmed up, Tom cleared his throat. "We should probably get going," he said, staring at the fire so his expression wouldn't give him away.

Ranger prodded the logs. His greasy hair hung over his face as he leaned over the fireplace. "Is everyone warm enough?"

Tom took the opportunity to catch Maria's gaze. He widened his eyes, cocking his head at the door.

"My ankle feels a little better, and I feel a little warmer. I think this helped," Maria said, picking up on his nervousness.

"I'm glad to hear that," Ranger said, still poking at the fire. "I'll douse the fire after you leave."

"Aren't you coming with us?" Maria asked, wrinkling her forehead in confusion.

"I don't think so," Ranger said. "Tom and I talked about it outside. I'm going to stay put. I'm a stubborn one."

"But what if those things come back?" Emily protested.

"If things get bad, I'll manage. That's what I was telling Tom."

"It's not safe…" Maria tried again. Tom searched for insincerity in her tone—anything that might give them away. Thankfully, she seemed convincing.

"I've managed so far," Ranger said. "I'm resourceful. I'll make it."

"Please be careful," Maria added.
 

"I will." Ranger looked at them and smiled. The insincerity in his expression made Tom sick to his stomach.
 

Without trying to convince him further, Tom took Maria and Emily's arms, leading them toward the door. Ranger stood and walked them out.
 

"I wish you folks the best of luck," he said.

"Thanks," Maria said, her voice wavering.

Tom hoped Ranger didn't hear it.

Tom's legs felt unsteady as he walked through the living room. The room was suddenly hot and claustrophobic, and he wanted nothing more than to leave. When they reached the door, Ranger ushered them out. The blast of cold was better than being inside with the untrustworthy man. Tom eyed him nervously as they said their goodbyes.

"Thanks for the help," Maria said with a smile.

"Don't mention it."

"It was nice meeting you," Emily added.

Ranger smiled.

Crossing the property, Tom resisted the urge to peer over his shoulder. He gave only a few cursory glances to ensure Ranger wasn't following them. When they were out of sight, he exhaled the breath he'd been holding.

"What is it?" Maria asked with concern.

"Keep walking," Tom said. "I'll tell you when we're a bit farther."

Despite her injury, Maria walked fast as they crossed another neighborhood. Tom waited until they were a neighborhood away before risking an explanation.
 

"We needed to get out of there," he told both Maria and Emily. "I hope you understand that."

"How come?" Emily asked.

"Ranger wasn't telling the truth. He was going to hurt us. I caught him in a few lies."

"If he meant us harm, why did he let us go?"

"He knew I was on to him."

"My God," Maria whispered.
 

"If either of you see him again, you need to let me know right away."

Emily's face was white with fear.

Maria's breath plumed the cold air as she said, "Okay. We will."