A Matter of Days (22 page)

We sat down, passing around water bottles and energy bars. “Don’t eat too fast, we’ll get sick,” Rabbit warned.

My teeth ached from the fever, and my gums were a mass of sores and divots. I couldn’t eat quickly even if I wanted to.

The next thing I knew Rabbit was bending over me, shaking my shoulder. “Nadia, wake up. It’s time to wash up.” The water from the toilet tank could be drunk, if necessary, but also heated for bathing.

Once I made it to the bathroom, there were rows of lit candles along the tile shelves and Zack brought in a pot of warm water. “There’s not much here, but enough to get the dirt off. There’s more cold if you need it. Just yell.”

He hesitated.

“I’m okay.”
I must look frighteningly bad to warrant that much of a stare
.

“Here’s clean clothes.” Rabbit deposited a stack on the toilet. Noting the predominately pink color, Rab frowned. “Not a lot of choices, plus Patty helped pick ’em out. Come on, Zack, dinner’s almost ready.”

I started on my hair without undressing. I rummaged
around until I found little bottles of hotel shampoo, a disposable razor, and a fresh cake of soap. This was clearly the guest bathroom because most of the drawers and shelves were empty except for ridiculous knickknacks and shell-themed crap.

The tangles in my hair were shellacked with oil, grime, and sweat. “I give up.” With little trimming scissors I cut out the tangles, until I ran my hands over my hair and felt only tight curl frizz, not masses of nasty. I shampooed twice, not bothering with conditioner. By the time I dried off, my skin was red and shivers racked my body. Dressing in pale pink stretchy yoga pants, a fuchsia T-shirt, and a pink hoodie with silver sparkle stars along the sleeves and back, I felt like one of those marshmallows in breakfast cereal. Patty’s taste was a little too pink, but the clothes were clean, though a size too big. I no longer smelled and I didn’t have the insane urge to scratch every inch of my skin.

I found a down throw across the bed and wrapped up in it.

With a flashlight, I followed the noises back to the main level of the house.

Everyone’s hair was wet or drying, including Twawki, who no longer smelled like old skunk. He had much more white on him than I had realized. We all wore borrowed clothes, though none of them fit well. Zack’s red polo hung long; the designer jeans, held up with a leather belt, must have come from a big-and-tall store. With his closely shaved face, the combination made him look years older.

The fire crackled and Zack added what looked like chair legs to the glow.

“Do you want beef stew or beef stew?” Rabbit glanced up at me. He was wearing pink sweatpants and a ladies’ black long-sleeved henley, and his expression dared me to comment.
Patty was the only one who looked like the clothes were bought with her in mind.

“Not big on choices?” was all I asked.

They laughed. “Two cases of beef stew. Two cases of canned tomato juice. Two cases of dried apple slices.”

“Really?”
Odd
.

“I don’t think they really thought they’d have to eat it.” Zack shook his head.

“Stew, please.” I cradled the steaming bowl, inhaling the fragrance of real food.

Patty scooted closer to me. I saw constellations of freckles across her freshly bathed nose. Her hair was pulled back with mismatched barrettes. Relief that she managed to bathe and dress on her own surged through me. I couldn’t imagine having to be a mom to her.

“Your hair!” Patty combed her fingers through my botched hair as if she was a stylist and I’d ruined her best work.

I shrugged. “It’ll grow back.”

Later that night, Rabbit and Patty pored over maps they’d found in the library office. Patty colored in the margins while Rabbit kept tweaking the route we’d take next. Zack and I kept our distance with the dog and the bird.

“Your brother seems obsessed with knowing where we’re going next.” Zack scratched under Al’s chin as he talked quietly to me.

“Every time Dad came home from a tour he’d load up Rabbit and their packs, and they’d take off into the woods, or the mountains, for a few days. One time, Rabbit told me they didn’t speak for three whole days.”

“Was your mom worried, or anything?”

“No, she knew what Dad did. At least, what she
could
know. I think she knew he was worried about not coming back from a mission. He didn’t want to die before teaching Rabbit how to be a man.”

“He didn’t ever take you?”

“He tried. I talked too much.” I shrugged. I was too into girly stuff for him, but too headstrong and tomboyish for my mom.

“Not the outdoorsy camping type?” Zack asked.

“Nah, I like the burbs. Used to. Now?” I shook my head. The corners and hallways of any building, even this house, felt like they hid the next horror. I liked open spaces, sky overhead, earth under my feet. In retrospect, I understood what Dad had tried to teach me.

Zack prodded, “Now, what?”

“Now, I’m almost afraid to stay inside, like anything with the roof might be a trap.”

He nodded, staring into the fire. “How long did you hide in your house?”

“A couple of months. But we could go outside after the exodus.”

“That’s still a long time.”

I know
.

In a choreographed dance that felt like déjà vu, we packed the SUV with anything remotely usable. Zack commandeered extra gas from high-end sports cars in the garages around us. With two days of driving we camped in the car at night. Eating the last of the beef stew, and dried apples, rebuilt my strength to the point I rotated back into taking turns driving.

“Hey, guys? What’s that smell?”

“Ew!” Patty chimed in, clamping her fingers over her nose.

My nose wrinkled.

As we got closer to the river, the smell intensified. We passed a couple head of cattle chewing grass, in green spaces, along the banks of the river.

Staring out at the vast expanse of the Mississippi River we might as well have stared across the Pacific Ocean. Bloated bodies of all kinds swirled through its muddy currents.

“Are you sure this is a river?” Zack asked out loud to Rabbit.

“Yep, map’s got it right here. It’s the Mississippi.”

“It’s what kept pioneers from flooding the West,” I murmured.
How do we cross it?

“Thanks for that history lesson.” Zack grinned. “I missed that chapter.”

A blush crawled up my neck. I wanted to blame the fever for my asinine comments, but knew I couldn’t.

“Did they dump the dead into the river rather than bury them?” Rabbit asked.

“Your guess is as good as mine.” Zack shook his head and turned Patty away from the flotsam and jetsam that used to have names.

“Aren’t there bridges?” Patty asked.

“We can continue down the river and see,” Zack said.

Rabbit shook his head. “They started blowing them up as people ran.”

I wondered which breaking news segment put that image in my brother’s head. “All of them?” I questioned.

He nodded. “The big ones for sure.”

“As if it mattered,” Zack muttered.

“Yeah, it didn’t really do any good, did it?” Rabbit frowned.

“I guess we need to find a boat?” Zack started scanning the shores.

Quietly I joined him and tugged him aside. “Have you ever driven a boat?”

He shrugged. “How hard can it be?”

Can he even swim? Can Patty? When was the last time Rab or I did?

“Looks like a marina on the map five miles south,” Rabbit said. “Boats there probably.”

“Hopefully a yacht.” Zack grinned.

“Sure.” Rabbit’s lips twisted up in a broad grin.

It took Zack four tries to find a small boat that had the keys in it. From the smell clinging to everything, I think he evicted the previous owner over the side. We made several trips from the SUV to the boat, with our blankets and meager supplies.

“Should we wait until morning?” I asked as the sun set in a fiery bow.

“I think dark is probably better.” Zack pointedly glanced at a body snagged on a propeller near us. It would only be worse if we could see them all.

“I go with now.”

“I’m cold,” Patty complained, and I wrapped the blanket tighter around her.

“We should all put on life jackets.” I handed them out.

“Yes, Mom,” Rabbit teased.

“Hey, you want to fall in and have to swim across?” I groused.

Zack and Rabbit shared a grin at my expense, but I didn’t
care. Al was tucked into Zack’s cargo pants pocket—the last thing we needed was a gust of wind to pick up the bird and send him flying out over the river. I sent a quick wish out that we made it across safely.

“Are you heading anywhere in particular?” I yelled at Zack as we got underway.

“Over there, where the water stops and dry land begins.” He pointed. “Doesn’t matter if she runs aground, right?”

“I guess not.”

Zack turned the headlight on low and kept it pointed directly in front of the boat. The fear of running into something bigger than us stole my breath. We hit floaters as we crossed. I was glad that the darkness hid their identities.

After an eternity Zack shouted back, “Hold on, this might be bumpy!”

I clutched Patty around the waist and put a hand on Rabbit’s shoulder. He sat low in the boat braced against Twawki’s wind-shielding girth.

Kathunk. Whoops
.

I hit my head, and the whine of the motor stranded above the waterline made my ears ring.

Zack turned off the engine but left the light on so we could see to climb out. “There. Piece of cake.”

Twawki’s nose scented the air and his hackles rose. I was just about to ask what was wrong when the darkness lit up with spotlights and headlights.

One second we were alone in the world and the next it was like we stepped onto a stage.

B
ehind the lights a voice called out, “You got food?”

Zack held his hands up. “Check our bags. No.”

“What’s your business here?”

“We’re just passing through. Crossing the river.”

I listened to hushed voices arguing. I had a feeling whoever was interrogating us hadn’t ever done this before. The spotlights made it seem like us against a crowd, but the longer they talked, the more I thought it was us against a couple.

“You’re not planning on staying?” a male voice shouted.

Zack pretended he was meek and not a threat. I’d never heard him so polite. “No, sir, just needed to cross the river. We’re heading to Miami.”

“You keep going, we’ll let you pass.”

“We’d appreciate that,” I spoke up. “That’s all we want.”

“You touch nothing, you take nothing from town, or we’ll have a problem.”

I nodded. “That’s fine.”

“You need wheels?”

“Please?” Rabbit spoke up, and I wanted to shush him.

The man nodded and sounded like he was giving orders. It was so hard to tell what was happening on the other side of the lights. Blinded, I didn’t think I’d see clearly for weeks to come. Several minutes passed and a couple of kids about Rabbit’s age wheeled two bicycles into the circle of light. One of them had a family cart attached to the back that I strapped Patty into along with Al’s cage. I checked my pocket for Dad’s MP3 player and Frank’s note.
Safe
.

“You can have these. Stay on this road until you’re outside the city limits. If I see you back here, I’ll shoot first. Leave the stuff in the boat alone. Let me see your hands.”

“Understood.” Zack nodded, taking Twawki’s leash in one fist and a bike in the other. We walked the bikes into the black with only a single flashlight to give us direction. Zack made Rabbit ride the bike so he could walk Twawki in the darkness. I wasn’t sure, but I thought maybe Zack didn’t know how to ride.

“Was that a family?” Rabbit asked, when we’d exited the city blocks and the night once again embraced us.

“I don’t know.” I was sure I felt eyes on us for miles as we rode the bikes in patchy moonlight that came and went with drifting clouds.

“There’s a tractor in that field.” Zack pointed out the shape.

“So?” I barely acknowledged his words.

“So you’re falling over. Rabbit’s tired. Wait here.”