The Remnants of Yesterday (21 page)

65

AT FIRST LIGHT, soon after the sun’s rays touched the landscape, we set off toward New Haven once more in the big yellow bus with three wires for an ignition key.

We pulled back onto the road after saying our goodbyes to Emily. Each of us stood around the pile of loose earth that passed for a grave and told her how sorry we were, and how much we would miss her. Even though she had only travelled with us for a few days, we had become a team, a sort of surrogate family looking out for each other. I kept my own words brief, feeling the weight of what I had done the previous day. My actions still seemed like a betrayal despite all my logical reasoning telling me I did the right thing. Darwin had regained some of his strength, after sleeping for almost fourteen hours. Although he still looked pretty beat up, with fresh yellow and blue bruises appearing about his face and arms, he insisted on being there. When he spoke it was the worst of all, and I turned away, ashamed.

Afterwards, we returned to the bus and drove in silence for a while, each of us absorbing the new reality of our situation, the somber realization that we were light one person. Our family was broken, and there was no way to fix it.

Darwin took a seat as far from Clara and myself as possible, toward the back of the bus, and refused to look in our direction. A part of me was glad for that. I had no words to make him feel any better about the situation, and wondered how I would react if the tables were turned. If it was Clara who went crazy, and Darwin who did what had to be done, I had a feeling I would feel much like he did right now.

Once we were underway, I took the same seat as I had the day before, opposite Clara, who once again insisted upon driving. I wondered if taking charge gave her some sort of comfort, provided her with some sense of control over her destiny. Maybe it was just that she liked to drive. Either way, I didn’t mind. It allowed me to concentrate on other things, like finding us a viable route to New Haven.

With that in mind, I found the map we’d picked up the previous day from the general store, and unfolded it on the seat, flattening it as best I could with the palm of my hand before studying it. The road we were on took us in a southeastward direction for a while, eventually intersecting with Interstate 91. We would need to turn before that and keep to the smaller roads, since the highway was sure to be choked. I identified the most likely route, and folded the map. Our journey would be a zigzag descent down the country, weaving from one back road to another, but there was no choice.

After several miles, we passed a gas station. One car sat at the pumps, another was partially blocking the road, the passenger side crumpled as though it had been t-boned by something bigger, but there was no other vehicle to explain the impact. Beads of shattered window glass lay strewn across the pavement. The right wing mirror sat on its own in the middle of the road several yards from the wreck, perfectly upright, as if placed there by some unseen hand.

As we maneuvered around the stricken vehicle, I crossed to the other side of the bus and looked out of the window, noting the damage, and commented. “That’s odd.”

“What?”

“That Jeep. Where’s the car that hit it?”

“Who cares.” Clara slowed and pushed the bus past the narrowest point, barely clearing the stricken vehicle by a matter of inches. “Everything is odd these days.”

“I suppose.” My eyes picked out a sprawled shape that had, until we passed the wrecked car, been hidden view. The body was obviously male by the build and clothes. I recoiled. “That’s a body.”

Clara followed my gaze. “So what?” She shrugged. “There are bodies everywhere.”

“Look at him.” I could not help but notice the way the corpse was lying face down, the hair on the back of his head matted with blood. But the thing that really bothered me was the way his hands were tied behind his back, secured at the wrists with what looked like cable ties. My blood ran cold. I had a vision of this man kneeling with his hands bound, a gun to his head. “Someone executed him.”

“Maybe he was one of the Crazies,” Clara said. She looked away, her face pale.

“Then why tie him up first? Why take the trouble to capture him, why not just shoot him.”

“I don’t know.” She stepped on the gas as soon as we were clear of the Jeep. “And I don’t want to find out.”

66

AT ABOUT ONE o’clock, I went back to check on Darwin, who had been sleeping across two of the seats. His head was propped against the window with a jacket behind it. Despite his animosity toward us, I felt it was my duty to make sure he was doing well, and to check on his wounds.

He glared up at me, his mouth a thin pressed line, his eyes boring into me. When he spoke, there was little doubt what he’d been thinking for the past couple of hours.

“J.T. was right.” He repositioned himself into a sitting position, wincing. “You are a murderer.”

“I’m not getting into this with you,” I said. “I just came back here to check your dressings and see if you wanted any painkillers.”

“I’m fine.” He looked away, out of the window. A deliberate snub. “I don’t need any painkillers.”

“You’re choice.” He sure looked like he needed some. The wound he’d sustained back at the motel would be bad enough without the damage Emily had done. “You know where I am if you need me.”

“Screw you.” His eyes roamed the scenery outside.

I lingered a moment, unsure if I should try and reason with him, but it hardly seemed worth it. He would come around, or he wouldn’t. Either way it was what it was. I couldn’t change the past, go back and take back that bullet. Even if I could, I’m not sure I would have. Maybe Emily was better off this way.

I retook my seat and closed my eyes.

The steady thrum of the bus engine lulled me into a half sleep. I dozed, and for once I didn’t dream about Crazies, or Emily, or the white shrouded figure, which was a relief.

That the figure - my white ghost as I had come to think of it - appeared so frequently, was of some concern. It stalked me whether I was awake or asleep, and I found that disturbing. I countered this growing anxiety by reasoning that I was under a lot of stress, and was suffering from a case of mild exhaustion. I had no idea if either of those things could cause hallucinations, but I chose to believe they could. Of course, for all I knew, I could have knocked something lose when I collapsed at the gas station and it could all be a slowly deteriorating case of brain damage. Not that it mattered. Finding a doctor would be nothing short of a miracle, given the current state of the world; or at least the current state of our world as it was here in Vermont. I was musing on this when Clara reached over and shook me.

“Wake up.”

“What?” I opened my eyes, rubbed the sleep from them. “What’s going on?”

“There’s someone in the road up ahead. They look normal.” She was slowing the bus. “What should I do?”

I peered through the windshield. Sure enough, there was a figure standing in the middle of the road, and he did look sane. He waved his arms above his head, signaling for us to stop.

“Well?” Clara glanced at me. “I need to know.”

“I’m not sure.” The wrecked car was still fresh in my mind, as was the dead man. “Can you see anyone else?”

“No.” She shook her head. “Just him, at least on my side. You?”

I leaned over to my side window, scanned the woods on my side of the bus, the road in both directions. “No. He appears to be alone.”

“Then I guess we stop.”

“What’s happening?” Darwin stood up, using the seat as a crutch. Apparently, this new development had convinced him to talk to us. “Did you say there’s someone out there?”

“Yes,” I replied. “We’re going to stop and see what they want.”

Clara spoke again. “Are we certain this is what we want to do?”

“Not by half.” Where had he come from? Was he anything to do with the vehicle at the gas station several miles back, and if so, was he a victim that escaped, or was he the person who killed the hapless guy laying out on the blacktop? There was only one way to find out. Besides, he was blocking the road and I didn’t fancy running him down. Not today. “I don’t think we have a choice.”

“We always have a choice,” Clara said, but even so, she downshifted and brought the bus to a stop in the center of the road several feet from the stranger.

The man in the road lowered his arms and folded them across his chest, waiting for us.

“Stay here.” I stood up, suddenly wishing I hadn’t thrown the gun away. What the hell was I thinking?

“No way.” Clara started to rise. “If you think I’m letting you go out there alone-”

“You are.” I put a hand on her shoulder and pushed her back down. “I need you in here, ready to drive. We have no idea what this guy wants. He could be harmless, just an innocent person caught in a bad situation, like us…”

“Or he could be the guy that killed that man back there.” Clara finished my sentence.

“Exactly. I don’t to put us both in danger.”

“Well at least take this.” Clara reached down the side of the driver’s seat and pulled out the crow bar. “Better to be prepared.”

“No shit.” I took the metal rod, the weight of it in my hand making me feel a little better about what I was about to do. Not a lot, but a bit. Butterflies swarmed in my stomach.

“Where’s the gun?” Darwin walked down the bus, using the seats to support himself in his battered state.

“We don’t have it anymore.”

“What?” He looked at me. “Why not?”

“I threw it away.”

“You did what?” Darwin shook his head in disbelief. “Our only real weapon and you tossed it?”

“I didn’t want it around anymore. Not after…”

“Screw that.” He dropped down into the seat behind the driver’s compartment. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”

“Alright. I should have kept it.” It was too late now. The gun was gone. Even if we went back and looked, we probably wouldn’t find it. “I made a mistake. I wasn’t thinking straight.”

“Well that’s not going to help us if this guy is a whack job, is it?” Darwin said.

“Then let’s hope he isn’t.” I reached for the door release.

“Wait.” Clara put her hand on mine.

“What?” I paused, my hand lingering next to the release lever.

“Maybe we should think about this.”

“I thought we already did.” I gripped the door release, activated it. “Just be ready if things go south, okay?”

“Okay.” She opened her mouth as if she wanted to say something more, to convince me not to go, but then closed it again.

In some way, I wished she would put up more resistance to the idea of talking to this guy, talk me out of it and drive on, let him jump out of our way as we sped past. Another part of me wanted to save someone, to help them. Heaven knows, I didn’t have a good track record of helping people over the past few days. Even J.T. ended up a stiff after being with us for less than twenty-four hours. I hesitated for a moment, took a deep breath, and then stepped down out of the bus.

67

I Rounded The Front of the bus and stopped, making sure I was close enough to the door to get back quickly if things got weird. The crow bar felt good in my hands, but not as good as the pistol I no longer possessed would have. “Afternoon,” I said. “What can I do for you?”

“I’ve been walking for days. Heard your engine, saw you coming down the road,” the stranger said. He was tall and lean, probably in his mid-fifties.
He wore a black leather jacket with a white polo shirt underneath.
His hair, as black as the coat, was slicked back over his scalp. His face looked like the side of a mountain, rugged and chiseled, the skin pulled over his bones like a mask. “To tell the truth, you’re the first people I’ve come across in a long while, sane ones at least.”

“Looks like it’s your lucky day then.” I was cautious.

“Seems that way, don’t it sonny?” He smiled.

“What’s your name?”

Danny,” The stranger replied. “Danny Clements.”

“Pleased to meet you, Danny.” The stranger looked too clean to have been on the road for days. His clothes were just a little too fresh, his hair too neat. I made sure to keep a good distance.

“Likewise. I’m sure.” He flashed a broad smile, all teeth and no mirth. His arms hung at his sides, a relaxed pose, but somehow he didn’t appear relaxed. He reminded me of a viper waiting to strike.

“You never said how we can help you.” I took a step back toward the bus door. Something wasn’t right.

“I didn’t, did I sonny?” He matched me with a step forward of his own. His eyes flashed up toward Clara, still sitting at the steering wheel. “You all seem like nice folk. Upstanding types. I figured you wouldn’t mind lending a guy a hand.”

“That depends.” My sixth sense was screaming at me to get back in the bus and tell Clara to floor it. I edged another step closer to the door. “How?”

“You have something I want see.” He scratched his head, his nails raking a slow path through the greasy strands of hair. He made the simple gesture look like a threat. “Something I need.”

“And what would that be.”

“The bus.” He broke out that smile again, just for an instant, and then it was gone. “I want your nice shinny yellow bus.”

“I don’t think so.” I turned toward the bus door.

“Not so fast, sonny boy.” He pushed a hand under his jacket, swung it wide and pulled a sawn off shotgun from a makeshift holster. He leveled the gun at me. “That wasn’t a request.”

I froze mid-step. For a moment, our eyes locked. I weighed up my chances of getting back onto the bus without being shot. They weren’t good.

Danny spoke again, his voice low, menacing. “I’ll take the girl too. She’s cute as can be. A guy could have some fun with her.”

“Like I said, I don’t think so.” My mind raced. I was only a few feet from the bus. I could make a break for it, lunge forward and be in the bus before he got a shot off. I looked at Clara. Her hands gripped the steering wheel. Her foot was ready on the pedal. The engine idled. She knew what I was planning. She would floor it the moment I was back in the bus.

Danny had other ideas. He raised the shotgun, leveling it toward the bus, on Clara. “I know what you’re thinking boy. One move and she gets both barrels. She won’t look so pretty without a face.”

I said nothing. I also made sure not to move, lest he follow through and pull the trigger.

“Now if you don’t mind, I’ll be taking my wheels.” He walked toward the bus.

I watched, helpless as he reached the open door. “Leave her here. Take the bus but leave Clara,” I said.

“I’d rather take them both if you don’t mind.” He waved the gun, motioning toward the door. “Come on then sonny. Hop on in. I have a feeling your girlfriend will be more amiable with Betsy here pointed at your head.”

Really? He named his gun Betsy? In other circumstances, I would have found that amusing. I stepped onto the bus, with Danny right behind. For a moment I contemplated whirling around and snatching the weapon, but I could feel the muzzle at the base of my skull. No doubt his finger was riding the trigger. I’d be dead before I even had a chance.

“Good boy.” He motioned for me to take a seat, the gun never straying from me.

I glanced down the bus. There was no sign of Darwin. Had he escaped out of the back door, leaving us to our fate? It figured. I looked up at Danny. “You won’t get away with this.”

“Yeah, I think I will.” Danny chuckled. He turned to Clara. “Drive.”

Clara spoke for the first time since we’d boarded the bus. “Where are we going?”

“That’s not your concern.” Danny prodded me with the gun. “Now get this thing moving or pretty boy here gets a few new holes in his face.”

“Fine.” I could hear the anger in Clara’s voice. She eased the bus into gear and we moved forward.

“See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Danny pulled the gun away from my head, but kept it pointed in my general direction. “Now pick it up. We ain’t got all day.”

We sped up, the woods whipping by faster than before. Danny waited a moment, then, seemingly pleased with our forward progress, reached into his trench coat and pulled out a walkie-talkie. It was angular, metal, painted dark green, and didn’t look like the kind of thing you could buy at Walmart. It looked more like a military model. I wondered where he’d gotten it.

He lifted the unit close to his mouth and pressed the talk button. “Mother Bird to nest, you there? Over.”

There was a moment of static, and then there was a new voice. “I read you loud and clear Gary. Come back.”

“Goddammit. Don’t use my real name you moron. It’s Mother Bird. Over.” 

The radio crackled again. “What difference does it make dude?”

“We went through this already. And say
over
when you finish. Over.”

“Sorry.” The radio went silent for a second, then hissed again. “Over.”

“That’s better. I have the bus. We’ll be at the crossroads in about five minutes. Tell the others to get ready. Over.”

“Will do Mother Bird. Over.”

“Amateurs.” Danny - real name Gary – mumbled, and pushed the radio back under his jacket.

“Just can’t get the staff, huh?” I looked up. “Why did you call yourself Danny when your real name is Gary? I mean, it’s not like we can run to the police or anything.”

“Shut it.”

“Seems to me you’re as much an amateur as the guy you were speaking too.” I knew I was needling him, but I didn’t care. Chances were I was going to end up dead anyway, and right now he needed me alive to keep Clara driving.

“We were professional enough to find you and take the bus weren’t we?”

“You were waiting for us?”

“What, did you think I was just standing in the middle of the road on the off chance someone would actually get something working and drive on by?” Gary said. “Of course we were waiting for you. We saw you when you passed the gas station back there.”

“That’s impossible.” I had a vision of the dead body next to the Jeep, of Gary standing over the poor guy, executing him. “There’s no way you could have gotten here ahead of us.”

“We didn’t. We left someone there to clean the place out. Load up on supplies.” He tapped his pocket, the bulge of the two-way radio. “You were just a bonus.”

“Lucky us.” I glared at him.

“A pretty sweet one though.” He glanced at Clara, his eyes glinting with lust. “It’s like Christmas come early.”

“You touch her and I swear to God, I’ll kill you.”

“I’d like to see that.” Gary poked me with the gun barrel. “Really I would.”

“Put that gun down and I’ll oblige you.”

“Let me think on that.” He cocked his head. There was a moment of silence and then he spoke again. “You know, I’d rather keep the gun if that’s all the same to you.”

“Asshole.” I looked down at the ground, trying to control my anger. As I did so, a movement caught my eye. 

There, in the seat well opposite, between the first and second rows, crouched as low as he could get, was Darwin.