“Do you think we’ll find anyone there?” Sarah asked Robby.
Robby turned his sandwich around, so he could take a bite out of the side that was starting to bust apart. “No,” he said.
“Why not?” she asked.
“We’ve lost half our people, and we were pretty sure something bad was going on, so we were pretty careful. They probably never guessed anything was happening, so I bet they’re all gone,” he said. “Some of the people would have panicked and tried to run, too.”
Sarah wondered if Robby was right. When he didn’t have enough information to form an opinion, Robby always kept his mouth shut. A thorough answer from him usually meant a correct answer.
“So you don’t think we should bother going over there?” she asked.
“No, I understand why we have to,” he said. “Like you said—some things you do just because they’re the right thing to do.”
Sarah couldn’t remember when or why she’d said that, but she was pleased Robby remembered. Robby finished off his sandwich and Sarah gathered the last supplies. They switched on their flashlights and blew out the candles.
“Put your plate in the dishwasher,” she said.
“Why?”
“Because I’m not coming back to find a house full of mice,” she said.
“Oh,” Robby said. He put his plate in the empty dishwasher and closed the door until it clicked.
“Do you want anything from upstairs before we go? Any of your things? If you do, I’ll go with you,” Sarah said.
Robby thought for a second. He knew his mom packed some of his clothes, and all his winter gear was in the mudroom. He could fill his pockets with his things, but that was almost like admitting he didn’t think they’d ever come back to this house.
“No, I’m okay,” Robby said. He wanted to be like his mom. He wanted to believe they would all return some day to their normal island life, with all their possessions intact. All they would need to do is run the dishwasher, and everything would be back to normal.
His mom took the driver’s seat and Robby got in the back of the Jeep. She started it up to get it warm, but they sat in the dim garage, lit only by the running lights of the Jeep. Their house had been in Sam’s family for three generations, and was one of few with an attached garage. Most of the islanders barely needed a vehicle, let alone a taxed addition to store it in. Sam was proud of his garage, and he kept it neat. Looking through his window, Robby studied the rows of orderly tools hung up on the wall. Sarah scanned through the dial—the radio wouldn’t lock on any stations. When she manually tuned into some of the local stations, they only heard static.
When they saw lights dancing through the windows on the garage door, Sarah hit the button to make the door go up. Nothing moved.
“Shit,” she said. “Power’s out. We have to raise it up manually. You stay here.”
Sarah left her door open and went around back. She stood on the bumper to reach the orange pull-cord. Robby pressed his face against the glass to watch her. The door wouldn’t open—the snow pressing against it on the outside stuck it in its tracks.
“You need help?” Robby yelled.
“Nope," Sarah said. She climbed into the driver’s seat and shut her door. “Your dad can open it when he gets back.”
Robby slid over to the other side, the rear passenger’s seat, and opened the door. He flipped the little switch to turn on the child safety lock. With that switch turned on and the doors locked, the door couldn’t be opened from the inside.
“What are you doing?” asked Sarah.
“Nothing,” Robby said, “just checking on something.” He slid back to his own seat, behind his mother.
Sarah jumped when the door from the house swung open. They caught a glimpse of Brandon coming through the door and then he pointed his flashlight right at the Jeep and Sarah and Robby couldn’t see anything but the bright light. When the second flashlight appeared, Sarah let out her breath.
Sam and Brandon came around the front of the Jeep. Sam untied his knot by the time he reached the passenger’s door. Brandon piled in the back with Robby.
“I couldn’t get the door open," Sarah said.
Sam just nodded and turned around. He kicked the door first, delivering a good blow to the bottom panel, and then flung it upwards. When he closed his car door, he immediately hit the button to lock all the doors.
Robby wanted to ask about his friend Jim and Mrs. Norton, but he held his tongue. No news was bad news, he figured.
“To the school?” asked Sarah.
“Got to," Sam said.
Sarah gunned the engine to hit the snow bank with as much speed as possible. The Jeep wobbled a bit in the fresh powder, but Sarah backed it out with confidence. Her hands fluttered over the wheel to correct any loss of traction before it led them astray. She used the wide part of the driveway to whip the front end of the Jeep around and put in drive.
The Jeep’s big wheels pointed up the hill, and Sarah counter-steered the slight skid. A light snow fell now. Sarah put the windshield wipers on low.
Robby looked over—Brandon was staring out the window into the dark. The snow looked blue in the soft pre-dawn light, almost like it gave off its own glow. Down at the library they displayed black and white photos of the island; that’s what it looked like to Robby. Everything looked still and dead. None of the houses had any lights on, or their walks shoveled. No smoke rose from the chimneys.
Sarah took a right on Church street.
“Easy now," Sam said.
A rusty old Toyota blocked the right side of the street.
“I see it,” Sarah said.
“Not that,” Sam pointed to the car, “that!”
To the left of the Toyota a snow-covered lump sat in the road. Sarah pulled the wheel to the left and skipped the left wheels onto the soft shoulder, but their right wheels still bounced over the lump. Robby and Sarah just bounced a couple of inches. Sam and Brandon, on the passenger’s side, flew up out of their seats. Sam bounced the top of his head off the Jeep’s roof. He reached around and pulled on his seat belt.
“Sorry," Sarah said.
“So’s Tom, I bet,” Sam mumbled.
Robby twisted in his seat. The Toyota belonged to Tom Willard, any islander would have recognized it. The tired old vehicle only had one seat, and could only be registered for island use. Tom used it to carry supplies from the dock up to his restaurant. There wasn’t enough light out to be sure—Robby guessed the lump
might
have been Tom. Robby wondered if his father knew for sure the lump was Tom.
“Dad, do you think it was him?” Robby asked.
“Not now, Robby," Sam said. “We’ve got bigger fish to fry.”
“It’s just that… Wouldn’t he be the first we’ve seen?” Robby asked.
Sarah took a left on Pepper Lane.
“No, Robby,” his father said. “Hold tight.”
Brandon put his palm against the window and pressed his forehead to the glass. Robby ducked and bobbed, trying to see what Brandon was looking at. Against the charcoal sky, black shapes moved across the rooflines, keeping time with the Jeep.
“Mom,” Brandon whispered. He reached down and unhooked his seat belt.
“Brandon?” Robby asked. “Brandon?” He touched the older boy’s arm.
Brandon spun and glared at Robby. "What?”
“Did you say something?” Robby asked. “You took your seat belt off.”
Sam watched the exchange from between the front seats.
Robby glanced to his dad and then back to Brandon. "It sounded like you said something.”
“I didn’t," Brandon said.
“Put your seat belt back on, Brandon," Sam said.
“No need," Sarah said. She pulled the Jeep to a stop in the side parking lot of the schoolhouse. A few spaces down, two other cars sat covered in snow.
Sam leaned forward and looked over the building. There wasn’t much to see on this side—just a long wall dotted with a few windows. Everyone dropped off their kids on this side.
“I’ll go in. You guys stay here," Sam said. “Keep it running.”
“In and out," Sarah said.
“In and out,” Sam replied.
Sam’s door swept a flat surface through the snow. He plunged his foot into the powder. After closing his door he pointed down and mouthed, “Lock it.” The snow drifted deep here, against the southern edge of the building, and Sam waded through it to get to the door. He expected the school door to be closed, but the door to the Lion’s club was around the other side, so he thought it worth checking.
The handle turned. He pushed his way inside. The hall to his left housed all the cubbyholes where the kids kept their gloves and boots. With all the boots at home, the cubbies currently held their Japanese house slippers. Sam pulled a flashlight from his pocket and pushed through the curtain to the main schoolroom. He didn’t need the light. The skylights and windows provided enough ambient glow for Sam to navigate. He turned off his flashlight and crossed the room.
On the opposite side, the curtain that led to the other outside door was fluttering. He pulled it aside and found snow drifting in through the door to the playground. The door stood open about a foot. He looked through the window out to the playground. He didn’t any tracks or signs of life, just a snow-covered jungle gym, swing set, and benches. He pushed the outer door shut and headed back for the main room.
Past the wood stove, Sam used his light to see down the hall. He shined his light in the teacher’s office, and then into Robby’s study room. Robby had his own study room away from the rest of the kids. His teachers discovered years before that Robby needed several hours a day to study independently. Without his alone-time to read, research, write, and figure problems, Robby tended to zone out and not interact with anyone at all.
Sam found nothing out of the ordinary in either of the rooms, so he continued down the hall to the utility room. The far end of the schoolhouse shared a wall with the Lion’s club, and the only door between them connected a dressing room with the school’s utility room. Flashing lights lit up one corner of the utility room. An emergency power supply for the furnace flashed to announce it was out of juice. Sam read the LCD display. It read, “Batt. Fail - 2:37:12.” The twelve counted to thirteen and fourteen as he watched.
“Yeah, how much battery does it take to tell me you’re out of battery?” Sam whispered.
A clank made Sam whirl around. He circled his flashlight around the room to the two doors, and to the racks of janitorial supplies.
“Hello?” he called.
He crossed to the Lion’s club door and swung it open. Sam made quick loop through the Lion’s club. It didn’t have many rooms—just a big auditorium, some backstage area, and the bathrooms. He stopped behind the bar at the back of the auditorium. The booze should have been all locked up, but on the floor behind the bar he found a spilled bottle of rum. He set it upright. He touched the floor around the puddle of rum. The floor felt sticky for about an inch surrounding the puddle.
Glass shattered at the other end of the room. Sam stood up and flicked off his flashlight in one motion. His eyes adjusted quickly, but he didn’t see anything but the empty meeting hall. One of the curtains fluttered and snow blew in through a broken pane. Sam quickly moved towards the outside door to look for footprints. The door was shut, and he didn’t see any footprints outside when he opened it.
“This is Sam Pierce,” he shouted. “Come on out if you need help.”
He heard no response. Sam turned his flashlight back on and moved fast backstage and then through the schoolhouse. He suddenly wished he hadn’t left his wife and son in the car. He threw open the door, expecting to see the Jeep gone, or worse—the Jeep still there but empty.
The Jeep still sat there with just a dusting of snow accumulated on the roof. The wipers swished and he saw his wife, turned around and talking to the boys. Sam waded back through the snow. Sarah unlocked the doors as he came up to the side of the Jeep.
“Anyone?” she asked as he slammed his door.
“I couldn’t find anyone," Sam said. “Let’s head for the shore.”
“I want to go back to my house," Brandon said.
“Brandon, I thought we agreed you should go to the mainland so we can look for your dad," Sam said.
“My mom is still here,” he said.
“And she can take care of herself, right?” Sam asked. “Drive, honey,” he said to Sarah.
Sarah backed up the Jeep, following their tracks.
“No!” screamed Brandon. “I have to go home.” He grabbed for his door handle and yanked. Robby had set the door so it couldn’t be opened from the inside.
“Brandon, calm down," Sam said. “Your mom knows we’re leaving this morning. If she wants to come with us, she’ll be at the dock. Otherwise we can just assume she’s staying here with Jim.”
“If she’s staying then I am too,” he said. Brandon pushed the button to lower his window. He started climbing out as soon as the window opened. The rear window in the Jeep couldn’t descend all the way, so Brandon struggled against the top of the glass.
“Brandon,” Sam yelled. “Sit down.”
Brandon still had the length of rope tied around his waist. It dangled behind him. Robby grabbed it and held as Brandon’s torso disappeared out the window.
“Stop for a sec,” Sam said to Sarah. She had already started to slow down.
Sam jumped out of the Jeep and grabbed Brandon by the shoulders.
“You’re my responsibility right now, Brandon, and I’m going to see that you stay safe. You’re under eighteen, and until we find one of your parents, or you turn eighteen, you’re going to do what I say. We’re getting off this island, and then we’re going to find your dad.”
Robby removed his seat belt and slid closer across the seat to hear what his dad was saying.
“But my mom,” Brandon protested.
Sam lowered his voice, “Your mom might already be gone, okay? We didn’t see
any
footprints, remember? She’s not in the house, and there were no footprints. There’s no sense in us continuing to look—we have no clues where she or anyone else went.”