A Catch in Time Page 14

  Eli was his best friend. Josiah felt embarrassment at the thought. It was childish, he told himself, but it was true. He’d never had a friend like Eli, hadn’t known that such friendships existed, had never made a real connection with anyone. There was Bob, but Bob hadn’t been real and Josiah had always known that.

  The connection he’d felt upon first meeting Eli had become immutable, and Josiah’s acceptance of this new and powerful friendship now defined him in ways he still didn’t fully understand.

  Josiah tried to catch the waitress’s eye to signal a refill.

  But one glance at the hands of the man who’d taken the stool next to him, and Josiah forgot about coffee; the hands were pocked with scabs that outgrew the filthy bandages that tried to hide them. Infection yellowed the edges of the rags. Josiah’s eyes flicked to the man’s profile. There were no marks on his face, but the scalloped swell of another suppuration poked from where his collar pressed against his fleshy neck.

  Anger surged through Josiah as he slid off his stool and stepped away from the man. “Yo, mister,” he said as he moved. The man gave him an unconcerned glance. “You have no business being out,” Josiah said.

  “Fuck you, asshole,” the man growled. He locked gazes with Josiah, his eyes filled with an awfulness that caught Josiah’s breath.

  These were the eyes Laura had described. Breath trapped in his throat, Josiah couldn’t look away. The man’s pupils became darker, fiercer, sucking Josiah into their bottomless black chasm. Their indescribable emptiness was real, viscerally terrifying. An unfamiliar dread struck Josiah and he wrenched his gaze away.

  “Rot away, fuckhead,” said Josiah, thrusting open the door of the cafe. He stepped out and drew in a frigid lungful of air. Fear of the man’s possible contagion wasn’t nearly as crippling as the memory of what was in his eyes. Josiah shuddered, knowing it wasn’t just the cold sending shivers through him. The Shaitan were real.

  Laura was right.

  It was late when he finally stepped into the house, removed his jacket, and hung it on the coat tree. Catherine was in her recliner, Eli and Kate were on the couch, and Laura sat cross-legged on the floor near the blaze in the fireplace.

  He crossed the room and lowered himself to the carpet next to Laura, letting his knee nudge comfortably against hers. He’d come to several decisions during the walk home. One was that he would pursue what he felt toward Laura, not wait until he figured it out.

  “We were talking about Lucas,” Eli said.

  Josiah nodded somberly. “We’ve got to get out of here.”

  Eli cocked his head to one side. “We do? Where to?”

  “I don’t know yet,” he answered, “but definitely out of Reno.”

  “Hear, hear,” Catherine said.

  “Why?” Kate demanded.

  “A couple of reasons.” He cast Eli a concerned glance. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this. Alex is dead.”

  There were gasps of shock and a staccato outburst of questions. Josiah described the mob scene downtown. Kate grabbed one of Eli’s hands. When Josiah finished his narration, everyone expressed horror and disbelief about Alex’s death.

  “I can understand,” Catherine finally said, heavily, to Josiah, “why, having seen such madness, you believe we should leave this place. I concur.” She drew a steadying breath and added, “You said you had more than one reason. What is the other?”

  Josiah nodded. “You were right to be worried about diseases. I just ran into this guy who had open sores and didn’t give a damn about contagion. There are probably more like him.” He looked at Laura, then away. He decided to tell her later about the man’s eyes.

  “There’ll be diseases no matter where we go,” Kate said. She really didn’t want to leave Reno and resented having to defend her position again. “At least here there’s hospitals and food and water. We know this city’s going to make sure the water stays uncontaminated. And there are more patrols every day.”

  Josiah shook his head. “Patrols don’t matter. Maybe the guy I saw wasn’t contagious. That doesn’t matter, either. The real problem is the people like him out there. There’s something wrong with those … people.”

  “Are you talking about Shaitan?” asked Kate. “The shit Laura thinks?”

  He hadn’t wanted to say “Shaitan.” He’d seen a frightened mob inflamed beyond reason by that word.

  He considered confirming Laura’s certainty that a new kind of person walked among them. He now believed the same thing. He’d seen the man’s eyes. The raw emptiness in them was something he’d never seen before, and he’d faced tough people during his life. Tough—mean—in the way of certain predators that killed just to kill. This new thing was worse.

  His voice lowered ominously, he said, “Call them Shaitan, call them whatever you want. There’s something unreasonable and dangerous out there. I think the best way to deal with it, to survive, is to get the fuck away from them.”

  Josiah’s soft, deadly tone aroused fear in Laura. She glanced at him, sitting so close to her that their knees touched.

  “You saw it, didn’t you?” she said.

  She searched the clear green depths of his eyes. “You did. You saw it.” He believes me. She finally had an ally.

  “What’re you talking about?” Eli asked. “What did you see, Josiah?”

  “Goddamn it,” Kate interjected, “If you say you saw Satan, I swear I’m leaving all of you.”

  “Josiah,” Catherine said, “are you confirming this notion of Laura’s?”

  “I did see something,” he answered reluctantly. He’d wanted to talk to Laura about it, first. Alone. “I saw it in the eyes of the man I was just talking about, and it must be the same thing Laura saw in the casino. There is definitely something new in the world, and I don’t have the words to describe or explain it.”

  Catherine, her face expressionless, nodded decisively. “We’ll go back to California.”

  Kate turned to her. “California? Back over that damn pass? Why?”

  “Because there we can find a place with a mild climate and good soil. Because the state is still off the grid and more people are fleeing it than staying. Because now it sounds as though isolation is far preferable to community living.”

  “She’s right,” Josiah said.

  “But it’ll be hell trying to get back over the mountains,” Kate protested. “With all the storms we’ve been having …”

  “It’s still our best option,” Josiah said. “Most people are heading southeast. This weather’s got to break soon and when it does, there’ll be another group coming over the mountain. One way or another, the passes will be cleared, at least for a while.”

  Kate jumped to her feet. “This is stupid. We should just stay here. Things will settle down, get better. And there’s people here, and stuff to do. You guys are just being paranoid. For chrissakes—”

  Laura grabbed Kate’s hand. “It’s dangerous here. I’ve seen it. Josiah’s seen it.”

  Kate wrenched her hand from Laura’s. “No. You, of all people, Laura—you’re the one who should be trying to stay here. You’re the one who’s going to need a hospital—”

  “Kate,” Laura warned.

  “What’s this?” Catherine said. “Laura?”

  Kate whirled to Catherine. “She’s pregnant. She’s going to need a doctor.”

  Everyone stared at Laura. Furious, Laura glared at Kate.

  For a moment, Kate glared back defiantly, then became abruptly contrite. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Laura, but shit, you had to tell them sometime. They’re ready to move somewhere with no doctors, or hospitals, or—or anything …”

  “We must go,” said Catherine with a ferocity new to her. “You are sadly mistaken if you believe Laura, in her condition, should remain in this town, much less give birth in one of its hospitals.”

  “But—” Kate sputtered.

  Catherine ignored her. “Josiah? Eli? Speak.”

  Laura couldn’t bring
herself to look at Josiah.

  “It’ll be okay,” he said softly, then, to Catherine, “I say go.”

  Eli nodded. “We go.”

  “Laura?” Catherine prodded.

  Laura turned hesitantly to Kate, her anger gone. “What do you say, Kate, all for one and one for all?”

  Kate, deflated, mustered a shrug. “Yeah, okay, what the hell. Just promise me one thing?” She waited for Laura’s nod, then said, “If we get stuck in Donner Pass, my body’s not on the menu.”

  CHAPTER 23

  JOHN THOMAS GIGGLED AS HE WATCHED THE TWO puppies squirming on the blanket in the large cardboard box. Their eyes had opened days ago and they were trying to gain control of their limbs, tumbling around their limited territory. John Thomas, delighted by their grunts, petted their small heads, laughing as the sounds changed to tiny growls.

  “John Thomas, I don’t wanna go,” Lucas said for the third time. He stood next to his kneeling brother, on the verge of slugging John Thomas for emphasis.

  John Thomas, thinking that the puppies might be hungry again, wondered if he should call Reina in from the backyard. “It’ll be okay, we’ll go someplace where there isn’t so much snow.”

  “I don’t care about snow. I wanna stay here.”

  “We can’t, Lucas. Everybody’s going.” John Thomas rose and went to the back door.

  Lucas followed, saying, “We could stay here alone, just like we did before, in the other house.”

  “We can’t.” John Thomas opened the back door and called Reina.

  “Why?”

  “Because, we just can’t, that’s all. We gotta go with Katie and Laura and Jo—”

  “Why?” Lucas interrupted.

  Reina trotted in and John Thomas shut the door behind her. “Because.” He started following Reina into the den, but Lucas grabbed his wrist, digging his fingers in.

  “I’m gonna stay here,” he declared furiously.

  John Thomas shook his arm. “Stop it, Lucas. That hurts, let go.”

  “No.” Lucas defiantly tightened his grip. “I’m staying. And you’re staying, too.”

  “What’s going on, guys?” Eli said as he came into the kitchen. “Hey, Lucas, stop that. Let go of him.”

  Lucas, eyes narrowing mutinously, crossed his arms on his chest.

  Ignoring him, Eli ruffled John Thomas’s hair. “You guys get your stuff out of the den while I move the puppies to the car, okay?” John Thomas trotted obediently from the room. Lucas followed, resentment evident in every movement of his body.

  Donner Pass was snowed in. Snow packs on both sides of the road formed walls higher than the roof of the Suburban and the passageway sometimes narrowed to a single lane. Laura moved into an icy pullout barely large enough for the SUV and waited, engine idling, for Josiah or Eli to give the all clear over the CB radio. Poking her head out the window, she craned her neck to see how much farther the single-lane stretch extended. She saw the first of a slow line of oncoming cars.

  “I can’t tell where it widens. There’s a curve ahead.”

  “This is really getting old,” Kate muttered as she watched the cars crawl past them. They’d left the city four hours ago and already she missed the bustle and distractions.

  “Here comes the last one. Green sedan,” Eli said over the CB.

  Laura waited for the sedan to pass before easing back onto the road. Within minutes, it widened to two lanes. The leapfrogging method they were using was time-consuming, but it was better than constantly backing up their vehicles for oncoming cars on the narrow stretches.

  Catherine spoke into the mike. “Boys, if we could stop at a facility, rather than the next mere widening of the road, I’d be grateful.”

  Shortly thereafter, they spotted a solitary gas station on a slight rise ahead, to the left. One car was parked near it, an old jeep, and it was obvious from the number of tire tracks and the flattened snow that others had stopped, though the station itself was abandoned. Parking some distance from the jeep, everyone spilled from the vehicles, stretching and stamping their feet. Despite the bright sunshine and brilliant blue sky, an icy breeze instantly reddened their cheeks.

  Catherine pulled a packet of toilet-seat protectors from her pocket and extracted singles of the papery tissue, handing one each to Laura and Kate.

  “Jesus, Catherine.” Kate grabbed hers and stuffed it into her pocket. When Josiah and Eli laughed, Kate blurted, “Couldn’t you have waited ‘til we got to the restroom, for chrissakes?”

  “Don’t be silly,” Catherine responded. “My goodness, for someone who continuously peppers her speech with scatological references, I am surprised at such sudden modesty.”

  “Yeah, well, when I say shit, I say shit; I don’t say I’m gonna go take a shit, damn it.” She turned and stomped away. Catherine said loudly, “Does everyone have toilet paper?” Without turning around, Kate threw her hands up in the air and shouted a wordless cry of aggravation. Laura caught up with her and, looking at each other, they burst into laughter.

  “Can you believe her?” Kate said, grinning. “I thought she was too proper to even think the word ‘toilet,’ much less shout it in the middle of a parking lot.”

  “Well, above all else, she’s practical. I guess we should’ve expected it.”

  “Next thing you know she’ll be passing out rubbers.”

  “A little late, in my case.”

  “It’s never too late, honey, because—” Kate broke off as they rounded the corner of the building and saw the woman emerging from the restroom twenty paces away. A handgun was held close to her waist, pointed at them. The woman stared at them with red-rimmed eyes. Encased in bulky clothing, her brown hair straggled from beneath her knitted cap in thin tangles.

  Kate cleared her throat. “Hey, listen, we just wanna use the bathroom.”

  “Where’s my girl?” the woman demanded. She raised the gun, and gripped it so tightly the black hole of its muzzle quivered. “Give me my girl back. Give me my girl!”

  A man’s voice echoed from behind the door to the men’s room. “Donna, I’m comin’ out, hold on, it’s just me openin’ the door.” The door swung inward and a bone-thin man stepped out in front of Kate and Laura, facing the woman. “Put it down, Donna, come on now, honey.”

  “Gary! It’s them. Gary, they’ve got my girl!”

  “Shh, no, it’s not them, honey, they don’t have our girl,” he said soothingly, looking briefly over his shoulder at Kate and Laura. “Come on now.” He walked forward as he spoke and gently took the gun from her grip as she stared into his eyes.

  “Are you sure, Gary?” she whimpered. “Really sure?”

  “I’m really sure,” he assured her, pocketing the gun and hugging her to him with one arm. “Come on, now, let’s move on.” He turned her toward the jeep just as Catherine, followed by the men and boys, rounded the corner.

  “It’s her, Gary!” Donna screamed, pushing herself away. “She’s got my girl.” She pointed at Catherine. “Give me my girl.”

  Gary pulled her back and repeated his calming words, his brief tone of exasperation quickly smothered.

  Laura swallowed, not daring to move. The poor woman must have lost her daughter to the blackout. “That’s Catherine,” she said. “She’s with us.” Then, wanting to sympathize, she added a lie. “She lost her girl, too.”

  Donna gave an anguished cry and collapsed against Gary, clutching at his coat.

  Kate whispered, “Nice going, Laura.”

  Dismayed, Laura said, “Maybe we should go back to the car.”

  The woman broke away from her husband and pushed herself between Kate and Laura, to grab Catherine’s arm and search her face with frantic eyes. “Did you see them?” she asked Catherine. “Did you see them take your girl? I seen them take mine. They snatched her right from my arms. It happened so fast. I was holding her. She’s just a little thing, just a beautiful little girl.” She crumpled to the ground, sobbing into her hands.

  Gripping h
is wife’s arms, the man raised her gently and wrapped her in his arms as her sobs diminished to a thin cry.

  “Two weeks ago, it happened,” Gary said to Catherine. “She was there alone, with our girl, and two women came up to her, telling her ‘My, what a pretty baby’ Donna had no reason not to trust them—they were just women admiring her baby. Then one of them grabbed Kelly and the other pushed Donna hard enough to make her fall.” His close-set brown eyes were murky with pain.

  “Donna chased after them. But, in the time it took her to get to her feet, they were already out the door. Their car was right there, and they took off. She was close enough to touch the car and have it slide from under her fingers.”

  He squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed, his arms tightening around his wife. “I don’t know how long she chased it; she doesn’t remember.” He met Catherine’s unwavering gaze and shook his head. “East, that street was. You see what I mean? That street happened to head east.”

  Catherine nodded slowly. “Yes, I see,” she said, and her chin trembled.

  Laura felt the infinite sadness of the couple’s endless search in a random direction that was their only lead. She watched them walk to the jeep, their bodies leaning into each other in the age-old language of support.

  At dusk, they finally turned into a likely driveway. The house, amidst pines, was dark, and the adjacent carport empty. They were subdued after the encounter earlier that day, in moods that had deepened into melancholy. Laura tried again to shake it off as Josiah and Eli emerged from the parked truck.

  Getting everyone settled for the night in a strange house, preparing a meal, situating the boys and the puppies, encountering the possibility of no electricity or running water, seemed a daunting stream of exhausting chores after the tense day.

  The work actually proved to be uplifting. The bustle, the animated voices, the boys and Reina underfoot, brought a feeling of normalcy and purpose. By the time the house had been explored, rooms assigned, bedding changed, generator found and started, propane heat turned on and the house warmed, and soup and sandwiches made and consumed, Laura felt herself again. By nine o’clock, the boys were tucked into bed without their usual protests. The noisy generator was turned off and the adults gathered in the living room. Candles and lanterns were disbursed along the mantle and atop various tables, and a small fire burned in a pot-bellied stove on a stone hearth.