Sleepers Read online

  More than anything I wanted to tell him no. I didn’t want to face that situation again. But I couldn’t. I murmured out a ‘sure’. Before I had a chance to say anything else or even change my mind, he grabbed hold of my hand and pulled me along.

  ****

  If we didn’t need a new vehicle beforehand, we probably did after Alex was done driving it. He drove fast, taking back roads, sending us into the air over bumps and divots. I lifted and banged back down to my seat more times than I could count

  “Sorry, I’m just trying to get there before her,” he said.

  “It’s okay. I understand.”

  “It’s just that she has two little ones. Really young.”

  “How old?” I asked.

  He looked at me then returned to looking at the road. “Two and three.”

  My heart sunk. They were babies. That poor girl. I didn’t have to imagine what she would go through, I went through it. I felt every emotion she was about to experience and soon enough relive it in a sense.

  “What is she gonna see when she gets there?” Alex asked.

  “Clothes. Hair. Dust.” My words ached out.

  Alex squeaked out a shocked. “What?”

  “The children just disintegrated.”

  “Then it was the Rapture.”

  At that, I grew angry and defiant. “No. No it was not the Rapture.”

  “But with what you said . . .”

  “No.” I cut off his words. “No, I’m positive. Because this was not kind. It wasn’t a moment of glory. It was horrendous. The suffering . ... That’s not God’s work.”

  We pulled on to the street. It was a small one, maybe eight frame houses and a couple trailer homes. Cars were scattered about the road. Not necessarily parked and I didn’t see a soul on the entire street. It was quiet.

  Alex explained that Missy’s ex-husband Greg and Greg’s mother had her boys for the weekend.

  We pulled up in front of the house and Missy rode up on the motorcycle out of control and fast. She hopped off before it had even stopped. After tripping, she raced to the house.

  “Missy!” Alex called out strong as he stepped from the SUV.

  Missy tried the front door. “It’s locked.” She raced off the porch to the side of the house.

  “Missy!” Again, Alex called and this time he and I ran after her.

  He caught her, latching on to her arm. “Missy, wait.”

  “Get . . .” she tugged her arm. “Off of me, Alex.” Using all of her body and with emotion, Missy pulled back hard, freeing herself from Alex’s hold. “I have to get in there. What if my babies were spared? Huh? And they’re alone. I gotta find out.” She turned and ran, calling out, “Greg! Connie!” her voice trailed off as she disappeared behind the house.

  We both followed but didn’t make it far before we heard a bellowing scream.

  Charged with fear, I bolted behind Alex into back door of the home. It led into the kitchen and as soon as we stepped inside, a sour, rotten odor pelted us. It made me immediately gag and turn my head. If it wasn’t the smell that made me instinctively want to vomit, it was the sight of the older woman. She hung from a belt had been fastened to the archway between the kitchen and hall, a toppled chair at her feet. It looked like a dried puddle of blood was on the floor beneath her. Why that was, I didn’t know. Her body swung, I figured from Missy pushing past the body in her race for her children.

  Her voice carried out as she searched. Calling, “Kyle, Liam! Mommy’s home. Babies. Mommy’s here!

  Alex, back against the wall, winced as he slid by the woman’s body. Hating to do it, hand covering my nose and mouth, I followed. I tried to slip through. But I brushed against her body and it turned. When it did, I saw the reason for the blood. Her entire mid section was wide open. She looked as if she were gutted.

  That was all it took. I couldn’t control it. The knot in my stomach erupted and vomit shot from my mouth and through my finger tips. I turned away, from the body, from Alex, trying to stop. ‘Please, please’ I beckoned in my mind. My insides twisted and my forehead rested against the wall. I listened to Missy race around that first floor. The house wasn’t that big, maybe it just seemed like she ran about for a while. Then clearly, she hit the steps.

  “Kyle! Liam! Mommy’s here.”

  Her voice trailed above us.

  “Mommy’s . . .”

  Silence.

  I closed my eyes tightly. I knew what was coming.

  And it did. The gut-wrenching scream of instant heartbreak. It made me stop gagging and unable to breathe.

  At that point Alex was already gone, probably up there and I knew, as much as it pained me, as much as I didn’t want to see the look on Missy’s face, I had to go up as well.

  When I arrived upstairs at the last bedroom, Alex was leaning head down against the doorframe. Missy was on the floor between the two twin beds, her back against the wall, knees brought to her chest and she clutched a tiny blue tee shirt.

  “It’s all that’s left,” She lifted her head. “That’s all that’s left of my babies.” She sniffled. “I didn’t get to say goodbye.”

  The sadness in her eyes ricocheted into me and I felt it. The look she had on her face pulled at my soul and I broke. I moved slowly to her, dropping on the floor before her. “I’m so sorry, Missy. I am.”

  Lips quivering, she shifted a glance to the bed and then back to me. “I didn’t even say goodbye.” Her fingers clutched tighter to that blue shirt and with a hard single sob she dropped her head to her knees and wept.

  ****

  We stayed in that room for a little bit, not for long, just enough for Missy to pull herself together enough to walk to the truck. She grabbed Kyle’s favorite action figure and a car that belonged to Liam. She also took with her the clothing the boys were wearing when the event took them. I was a little envious of that. I wish I would have kept Jeremy’s shirt instead of burying it in the flower bed.

  I had my arm around Missy’s waist, holding her close to me as we inched down the stairs. The smell was strong once we hit half way.

  Missy looked at me, she spoke in a daze. “Should we take Connie down?”

  I gave a curious look; it took me a second to figure out what she was talking about.

  She stopped walking and looked behind her to Alex. “Alex, I think we should take Connie down. She doesn’t deserve to be hanging like that. She was a good woman.”

  “Missy, I don’t think she knows,” he said.

  I had to hide my gasp of offense. I couldn’t believe he just blurted that out like that. No sensitivity at all. Then again, maybe Alex just wasn’t thinking. A lot had happened.

  Missy wouldn’t move. She gave a stern look to Alex. “Take her down, please.”

  Alex grunted. “Fine. Go on out. I’ll be right there.” He brushed by us on the stairs.

  He turned right and as we neared the bottom of the stairs, I tried my hardest to ignore the smell and concentrated on the salvation of the front door.

  When we reached it, Missy paused again and looked up to me with her sad eyes. “I want to die.”

  I nodded, pulled her closer and whispered, “I know.” Edging her to move, I reached for the front door and opened it.

  Missy’s head lifted. “Greg?”

  He stood there, face gray, head titled, mouth agape and he stared at us through the tops of his eyes. Missy called him Greg, but it was obvious to me who or rather what he was.

  I slammed the front door. “Alex!” I shouted. “Sleeper!”

  Alex rushed our way. “You still have yet to tell me what a Sleeper was.”

  Just as he finished his sentence there was a bang at the front door. It rattled on its hinges and soon the bangs were steady.

  “That.” I said with a point to the door.

  “Why is Greg acting like that?” Missy asked.

  Alex peered through the window on the side of the door. “He’s banging against it with his body.”

  “Are there
any more out there?” I asked.

  “Any more?” Alex asked with surprise then looked out the window again. “Nope. He’s the only one. Okay.” He held up his hand. “Step back with her.” He inched us from the door and further into the living room. “When I say run, you run with her and get in the truck. Keys are still I there.”

  “What are you going to do?” I held tightly to Missy.

  “Handle this.”

  “He’s a Sleeper,” I stressed. “He’s . . .”

  “Greg.” Alex stated. “I played deck hockey with him. I’ll handle it.” He bit his lip, twitched his head in irritation and reached for the door knob. “Goddamn it, quit banging!” He waited and flung open the door. When he did, Greg must have been rearing to shoulder the door; he charged, not realizing the door was open and stumbled in. “Run!” Alex told us.

  Missy wouldn’t budge, she kept watching Greg. There was dried blood on his shirt, his clothes were dirty.

  Greg was fast, he scurried to his feet and when he did, with a tightly closed fist Alex delivered a punch that I swore would have knocked anyone out. I heard it. But Greg barely flinched.

  “What the fuck?” Alex revved back again and hit Greg. Nothing. Greg merely shook his head like a cat that ran into a wall. Alex looked quickly at us. “I said to run. Go.”

  Just as I saw him sail his fist, using all my strength, I grabbed on to Missy nearly dragging her out the door.

  “Alex.” She kept looked back as she ran.

  “Come on.” I pushed and shoved her along to the truck. When we reached the back door, I too glanced back at the house. No sign of Alex. All I kept seeing in my mind was my son being bitten. How when I plowed through the Sleepers, they didn’t care, they just kept coming.

  When I opened the back door, I saw it. The gun. Randy’s gun. He had left it on the seat. Quickly, I snatched it and pushed Missy inside.

  “What are you doing?” she asked.

  “Wait here.” As I went to shut the door, I saw two more Sleepers coming from down the street. “Stay here. Do not get out. Okay?”

  She nodded and I closed the door.

  I hadn’t looked at the revolver beforehand. It was a classic revolver, I was familiar with those. Releasing the cylinder, I checked to make sure it was loaded. It was.

  Alex hadn’t emerged from the house and the Sleepers were moving slowly down the street. With fear that something happened to Alex, I raced to the house.

  Barely had I made it to the front porch than both men flew out. Entangled in each other’s grip, they spun around and dropped off the porch landing on the walk. It looked to me, while Alex was holding his own, he was more on the defensive. I watched as he slugged Greg once more then Greg rolled, flipping Alex to his back. Alex pushed and hit, but Greg had him right where he wanted.

  Mouth open, saliva poured from Greg’s mouth as he viciously snarled in Alex’s face.

  I had to do something. I thought of throwing Alex the gun, but there wasn’t time. There also wasn’t time to deal with how I was going to feel after my actions.

  I fought in my mind to remember what Daniel had taught me. What was it? What did he say? All those times he took me to the range and I was drawing a blank. What was wrong with me? Alex was fighting for his life; Greg was on his way to victory.

  Then I heard it. It all came back. Playing fast forward in my head, I heard Daniel’s voice. ‘Brace it, lock your elbows. Plant your feet, hold it steady, take a breath . . .”

  Bang.

  Greg dropped onto Alex, and quickly Alex rolled him from him. When he did I saw where I hit. The entire side of his head was gone.

  Out of breath, Alex jumped to his feet. “Thank you.” He took hold of my arm and hurried me to the truck.

  “There’s more,” I said.

  “Where?”

  I pointed. They were still a good fifty feet from the car.

  “We’re good,” he said. “Get in.”

  The moment we both got in the truck, I put on the safety and set the revolver between the two front seats. It was at that moment that my hands started to shake.

  Alex drove. “Are you all right?”

  “Yeah. Yeah, I will be.” I brought my hands to my face.

  “That was a great shot,” he spoke calm. “You have amazing aim.”

  My fingers trailed down my face, holding down my skin and I turned to him.

  “I mean, he was inches from my face and you . . .” He paused when he saw my expression. “What?”

  “I could have killed you.”

  “No. No, you did good. Right on it. Your aim was great.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “It wasn’t.” I paused. “I was aiming for his legs, somewhere in case I hit you, I wouldn’t kill you.”

  “You . . . you were aiming for his leg and you hit him in the head.”

  I nodded.

  He whistled as he exhaled, rubbed his eyes, and continued to drive. “Forget what I said about aim.”

  We returned to the haven; everyone was waiting for us with obvious worry. They all rushed to Missy and me the second we walked in.

  Missy was a mess and it was evident on Randy’s face that he felt every moment of her pain. He closed his eyes briefly with a wince then extended his big arms to her. “Come here, darlin’. Come here.” You could tell he was a welcoming sight to her. His huge frame was not intimidating like Beck’s, but rather comforting. He wore his heart on his sleeve and it was as big as his body.

  She whimpered as she pressed against him. “My babies.”

  “I know. I know.” He took a deep breath, wrapped his arms around her almost burying her in his comforting embrace. Like that, he escorted her to the other room.

  Beck gave an upward motion of his head to me. “How was it?”

  “Bad.” I answered.

  Beck prepared to ask more, then Alex walked in. His eyes blinked and he did a double take. Alex was bruised and a little bloody.

  “I need to know.” Alex said holding the revolver. “Whose is this?” He set it on the table.

  Bill looked down at it. “That’s Randy’s.”

  Alex nodded and pushed the gun Bill’s way. “Keep it away from her, will ya. At least until someone teaches her how to shoot.”

  I defensively folded my arms. “I’ll have you know, my husband taught me how to shoot.”

  “Then he didn’t teach you to aim.”

  Beck asked. “What happened?”

  “I’ll explain once I calm down from my near death experience.” He walked to the sink and turned on the water. He began to splash his face.

  “Sleeper almost kill you?” Beck questioned.

  “No.” Alex grabbed a towel and dried off. “She did.” He pointed at me.

  “Hey,” I snapped. “I …”

  Beck held up a hand to silence me, which irritated me more. He focused on Alex. “Are you okay, though, man?”

  Alex nodded. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

  And he was. A little bit bumped and bruised, but not emotionally scarred at all. Something told me Alex would always be fine. But that was him and not everyone else was doing so well. Missy was worse than I ever was and Beck informed us it appeared that Danny was showing signs of an infection.

  18. The Arrival

  The Survival Haven still held on to electricity which made Danny and Bill happy because they fired up Alex’s video game system. Danny seemed fine to me; I wanted to tell Beck he was nuts, but I saw his arm.

  I knew it was safe to interrupt when I heard the unison, ‘ohs’ from Bill and Danny and that tell tale toss of the game controller.

  Game over.

  “Why are you on the floor?” I asked Danny.

  “I’m fine,” Danny replied. “We’re gonna play one more game.”

  “No, you’re going to eat.” I pointed to his untouched plate that sat on the floor. “Bill, make him eat.”

  Bill peered over his shoulder to me. He had this dopey, open-mouth look on his face and when I took a ste
p closer I saw that Bill had touched nothing on his plate either. At that point, I shut off the television.

  They both shouted, ‘Hey’.

  “Guys, come on.” I sat on the foot of the bed. “Eat. Okay. Please. Would you rather go in the living room . . .”

  Bill answered quickly. “No. No.”

  Danny slowly stood with his plate. He walked to the desk in the bedroom and sat there. “It’s weird in there.”

  “Yeah,” Bill added as he sat next to me on the foot of the bed. “Just quiet.”

  I thought about what they meant. How Randy just sat on the couch with Missy. She sipped a glass of wine, holding on to her children’s clothes. “They’re grieving. Both of them. Everybody grieves differently. You two talk and take your mind off of things. I’m trying but it’s hard.” I lowered my head. “I just want to keep going.”

  Danny asked. “So when do we go? It’s not going to take that long to get to Washington. But if we keep stopping…”

  I raised my hand to him to halt him. “We have to make sure you’re okay.”

  “I’m fine.” He scoffed and ran his fork through his food.

  Bill laughed out a ‘ha’, “Did you see that arm? It’s gross.”

  “No.” Danny shook his head. “This food is gross.”

  Bill turned to me. “Tell me again why we’re eating SPAM?”

  I glanced down to the plate. It was the best I could do. The meat product, some rice and corn. “Because our host the survival guru has two cupboards full of nothing but Spam.” I stood. “Eat, Danny, you need your strength.” As I left the room, I paused in the doorway. “And do not turn the game back on until you are done.”

  Danny nodded his reluctant agreement. I stood there watching. Bill ate and Danny nibbled. He did look pale; his coloring wasn’t right. A simple turn and step brought me into the living room. It was dark in there but for one lone candle. It was a plain simple room, a couch and two chairs, a few little tables. This surprised me, the simplicity and sterile feel of the home. I guess I expected rustic.