Bloodline (The Forgotten Origins Trilogy) (11 page)

A few minutes later the last class makes its way into the stands and I’m relieved to see Chris with them.  They sit several rows below us and as soon as they settle in, Mr. Sailor strides out to the center of the room.

He stands there for a minute, surveying us, and I’m convinced he’s going to call out my name and send me to the other side.  However, he simply clears his throat and addresses us all.  “Thank you for your co-operation.  Class is dismissed for the rest of the day.  It will resume at its normal time tomorrow.”  He turns to the normal kids.  “You will stay here.”  Then back to us. “That is all.”

As he begins to walk away, four hundred students stand as one and we quietly leave the gym in the same order we entered.  Caught up in the tide of motion, I take a chance and turn to look back at the group still seated on the other side. 

I can see teachers with their hands up, holding them back and telling them to stay seated.  As I reach the exit, I notice Heather mixed in with them and her eyes meet mine.  I will never forget her fear and my inability to do anything about it.

Chris pretty much follows me home and I’m glad for the company.  The whole scene has left me a little shaken.   All I can think about is what’s going to happen to them.  Breaking a rule, I turn my phone on as I’m driving.  I try calling one of the police officers that’s stayed close to our family, but when he answers, it’s clear that he’s changed.  I don’t know who else to turn to.  I claim to have dialed a wrong number and quickly hang up.

As I pull into the driveway, it dawns on me that if Jacob hadn’t made a fuss about it, he would have been at school today too and I’m pretty sure that something similar happened there.  The thought causes me to panic and I literally run from the truck and into the house, needing to make sure he’s alright.

“Jacob!” I yell, heading for his room. 

“What!  What’s wrong?” h
e calls out from the family room.  I spin around and go back the other way, having missed him in my rush.  He’s lounging on the couch and has been playing video games, but he’s dropped the controller in alarm at my voice.

“Oh!”
is all I can say, kneeling down next to him and giving him a hug.  I fight back the tears and manage to smile instead.  “Nothing is wrong, I was just afraid you might have left the house again after I went to school.  Things are weird and I don’t want you out there.  You were right to stay home today.”

First concern and then hope crosses his face.  “Does that mean I don’t
have to go tomorrow either?” he asks.

“Definitely,” I tell him.  The sound of footsteps causes me to look up and I see that Chris
has come inside.  “Hey Jake, do you think you could give us a few minutes?” I ask.  “We need to talk about…school.”

“Sure,” he says good-naturedly, jumping up off the couch.  “You made me fall into a pit anyways.”  Tossing the controller onto the couch, he calls Baxter to him and goes out the back
patio door after saying hi to Chris.

“He’s a good kid,” Chris comments, watching Jacob and Baxter run around the back yard.

“I know.  I can’t stop thinking about what might be happening to him right now if I had made him go to school.”

“Maybe nothing,” Chris
counters, sitting down next to me.  “We just don’t know.  They could all be back at school tomorrow.”  We look at each other silently, neither one of us wanting to put into words any other possibility.  It’s just too hard to contemplate or acknowledge. 

I tell him about my failed phone call, afraid I might have drawn more attention to us.  He also admits to calling his friends parent.  “I saw Kevin over there
in the gym, Alex.  I had to do something.  His dad answered and when I explained it to him, do you want to know what he said? 
‘Don’t worry Chris, he’ll be okay now.  How are you feeling?’
  I hung up.”  Silence settles over us, the atmosphere heavy.

I take out the sheet of paper with my dream
s description on it, and we start to talk about that instead.  For some reason I focus on caves and if there are any in the area, while Chris is convinced the stream and rifle are key elements.  After less than an hour, his cell phone rings and to his surprise it’s his Mother.

“Hello?” h
e says hesitantly, while shrugging at me.  His expression changes from uncertain to bewildered.  “I’m at a friend’s house.  They had a schoolbook that I need.”  He listens for another minute, his frown deepening.  “Oka-“But apparently the call is cut off, because he doesn’t get to finish.

“What was that all about?”
I ask, as he sits staring at his phone, deep in thought.

“I’m not sure. 
She asked where I was and wanted to know why I wasn’t at home.  This is the first time since coming back that Mom has even showed an interest in me. She’s acting like there’s something planned that I know I’m missing; but there isn’t.  I don’t even know why she’s home this early.  The office doesn’t close until five.”

“She hung up on you?”
I press, a little worried about his situation.  Maybe Kevin’s dad called her.

“Kind of.  She said to come home now and hung up before I could
even answer.  I don’t know Alex. I should probably do what she says if I don’t want to raise even more suspicion.”

“Yeah, I guess.  But leave if there’s anything too strange, okay?  And will you text me later and let me kno
w you’re alright?”  I feel silly after saying it, but I’m finding that my friendship with him is part of a very thin thread holding me together right now.  It wouldn’t take much to break it.

“Oh don
’t worry about it. I’m not going to stick around if I feel threatened.  As far as texting; I don’t think we should do it anymore.  I was thinking about that earlier today.  If there is some sort of mass organization happening among the people that are infected, they might have the ability to track or monitor us.

“
Maybe I’m being a little paranoid, but I haven’t seen hardly anyone using their cell phones or any other electronics.  Have you?  Maybe computers, but none of the hand-held devices.  It’s almost like they’re already synced and don’t need to text or communicate that way anymore.”

His comments remind me
of the thread I read, so I tell him about it while he gets his backpack.  “So I don’t think you’re being paranoid, it’s probably a smart idea.” I comment as he goes out to his car.  “Can you just call me briefly then on the home phone?”

Smiling, he gets in his Honda and starts it up.  “I’ll call you, don’t worry. 
We’ll see each other tomorrow, and we can compare our lists after school.  We need to start contacting other normal people over the weekend.  We have to figure out what to do and where to go.  Let me know if you interpret the dream or message, because I think that’ll be the key to it all.”

Nodding, I wave as he drives away and go back to the house.  As I get to the door, I notice Jacob and Baxter standing nearby.  Jakes looking at me strangely and it makes me wonder how much he overheard.

He follows me inside and hovers as I go to the fridge.  “What were you guys talking about?” he asks, sitting at the kitchen table.  “What dream?”

Getting some water, I turn to face him.  He’s looking at me expectantly, and I’m conflicted over whether to involve him in it or not.  A pressure on my foot gets my attention and I look down to see Baxter sitting on it.  He’s looking up at me with such wide eyes that it startles me.  A low, back-of-the-throat growl builds in him until he barks once at me.  He’s never behaved this way.

“Okay,” I whisper at him.  “I get it.”  Satisfied, he moves away and goes back to Jacob, lying at his feet.

Jake doesn’t quite know what to make
of it and is looking back and forth between me and Baxter.  “Get what?” he asks.

“Jacob
…I have a question for you.  That dream we were talking about? I had last night.  I believe that someone is trying to tell me something in my dreams.  But I’m having a hard time figuring it out.”

“Tell you something about what?”

“About what’s happening with the flu and Mom and why people are acting so weird” I try to explain.

“Oh.  Alright.  S
o tell me about it.”

His ease at accepting what I told him makes me envious.  Why can’t it be that simple for me?  “So
Jake, you know what hieroglyphics are, right?  The ancient picture words that Dad told us about?”  When he nods, I continue.  “So if Dad were to draw out a series of hieroglyphs meant to tell me something that basically said:  Chosen, go out or leave, mountains, forest, archer, duck in flight, burial.  What do you think it would mean?”

He looks at me with a blan
k expression.  “It says what?”

Sighing, I get the paper from the family room and place it on the table in front of him.  “Here, these are the pictures
.  I wrote out beside it what it means.  Maybe it’ll help if I tell you my dream?” 

He studies the pictures, his brow knitted in concentration.  “I think you
should just tell me your dream,” he says in agreement.

I explain it in detail, everything I can remember.  When I’m done, I can tell that something has caught his interest.  “Why did you
say that this was from Dad?” he asks.

“I don’t understand it all myself Jake, but I found an old book of Dads that had a message in it for me.  That’s how I found that note.  So I believe that he’s trying to tell me something.  Chris thinks tha
t it will only make sense to me.  That it’s a personal reference between Dad and me.  You were always a part of our time together too, though.  So what do you think?  How is an archer with a gun, shooting a duck, relevant to us?”

His face
brightens and he jumps up from the table.  “I know!” he says excitedly, grabbing my arms.  “It’s totally obvious!” he yells, hopping up and down.

My hopes rising, I can’t beli
eve it was that easy.  “What?” I demand, his energy rubbing off on me.  I can’t help but jump around with him.

“The duck blind of course!” h
e says, spreading his hands in a ‘duh’ motion.  “He wants you to go to the duck blind!”

Ye
s!  That’s it, he’s right.  Relief sweeps through me and I understand now why there was something familiar about it all.  I hug Jacob and pick him up off his feet, spinning him around the kitchen, both of us laughing.  Baxter gets excited too and starts prancing around us barking.

“How
could I have been so stupid?” I ask no one in particular.  “And why didn’t I ask you sooner?” I say to Jacob, his smile making his pride apparent.

Several years ago,
right after I was born, my dad had built this incredibly good duck blind.  He had taken Jake and me hunting there many times over the years, but neither of us has gone back since his death. Mom hates hunting so has never seen it.  I don’t think she even knows what it is; let alone where. 

One of the now retired lieutenants on the police force owns
the fifty acres of hunting land a couple of miles from our house.  To get to it, you drive to a trail head and then hike or bike another mile to a less worn trail. This takes you back to a stream and wetland area.  From there it’s another un-marked trek into the woods and the duck blind.  It’s built from surrounding material but very solid.  We spent many hours’ huddled in there, waiting and watching for the ducks.  There must be something buried there, hence the burial hieroglyph.

Filled with hope and urgency, I st
art to reach for the truck keys.  I’m all ready to go right now and find it.  I stop myself though, realizing that no matter how much I want to get to it as soon as possible, I have to be really careful.  It’s already nearly four thirty.  Mom will be home in another hour or two and I would never even make it there before dark.  It’s been years since I walked those vague trails and there aren’t any houses for miles.  I would be sure to get lost.  I’ve got to be smart about this.

Tomorrow morning
we’ll go.  Tonight when Chris calls I’ll fill him in and we can meet early in the morning.  “Thanks Jake.  I’ll have to sneak out there tomorrow during the day.  I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about it right away.  I promise to tell you what I find though.”  I focus my attention back on my brother, thankful for his help.

“I’m not a baby anymore you know,” he says quietly.

“I know you aren’t Jake.  I’m sorry if I treat you like one.”  I mean it, too.  He hugs me again, accepting my apology and then asks what’s for dinner.

Grateful for the distraction, I get out all th
e ingredients to make spaghetti.  It’s one of the other few dishes I can manage.  Looking at the clock, my stomach knots up again as I realize I’ll have to face my mom soon.  I start moving faster, hoping to be done and hidden away in our rooms long before she gets here.

Friday morning comes quickly.  Rolling out of bed, I am both excited to finally be
doing
something but scared at the same time.

Chris called me last night like he had promised, but we were only able to talk briefly in whispered conversation.  Sitting in my closet, I told him Jake had figured it out and we needed to meet up early to go for a long hike.  I was hesitant to give too many details over the phone, his paranoia rubbing off on me. 

Chris immediately pointed out the big flaws in my plan.  Both of our Mothers weren’t leaving for work until around eight a.m. so if we failed to show up at school and they called, our bluff would be up and we’d be out of time.  I feel like it’s already borrowed.  It’s becoming obvious that we’re going to have to leave and it’ll most likely be this weekend.  I don’t know what will happen to us or Jake if we stay, but I’m not willing to hang around and find out.  Before we leave though, we need to get to the duck blind, contact as many other non-Shiners as we can, and of course come up with a plan on where we’re going to go.

One possibility is an old hunting cabin Dad took us to a few times that usually sits vacant.  I’m not even sure who owns it, or if it’s still standing.  It’s in the middle of nowhere deep in the Cascades and not many people know about it.  There’s a creek nearby with fresh water and a big fireplace in the main room.  Both Jake and I can hunt and fish so I think we could at least ride out the summer months there if we need to.

I reluctantly agreed with Chris to wait until after school.  One more day of trying to carry out this charade, but it’s necessary.  We can’t run now.  If what we find at the duck blind leads us back to my house, and something in my dad’s possessions, we’ll need access to it.  Never mind the fact that Jacob will be at home and we can’t take any chances with him either.  Just one more day.

I remind myself of this as I get ready for school.  Emerging from my room, I can hear sounds in the kitchen and assume that Mom is already up.  She came home last night when she had said she would, and we were already in our rooms.  Turned out I didn’t n
eed to worry about avoiding her.  She pretty much went straight to her own room, stopping only long enough to tell me she would be going back to work at eight this morning.  Her TV turned on, the bath water ran in her bathroom for awhile and she never came back out.

I’m pretty sure she knows I never really got sick, but for whatever reason isn’t calling me on it yet.  I have a feeling
that she’s waiting for something and I want to make sure I’m long gone before it happens.  I don’t know if she believes Jacob.  Maybe.

Sneaking into his room now, I gently shake him awake.  He looks at me sleepily and then startles awake.  “What’s wrong?”
he gasps, looking wide-eyed at the door, like one of the aliens from his video games is about to come crashing through.

“Nothing Jake, I’m sorry if I scared you.  I just want to let you know that I’m leaving for school.  Chris and I decided to wait until later to go to the duck blind; we have to be careful not to get anyone suspicious.  Did Mom say anything to you last night?”

Shaking his head, he lays back down, obviously relieved. “Nah…she poked her head in and stood there for awhile, but I pretended to be asleep.  Even made sure my breathing was really slow and stuff.  She finally left.  Is she gone yet?”

“No.  She’s in the kitchen.  But she said she has work at eight so she should be leaving in less than an hour.  Will you be okay?  Can you pretend to still be asleep?” I ask him
, feeling now like this wasn’t such a good idea.

“I’m fine,” he says reassuringly.  “I have Baxter.  Will you leave him in here instead of putting him out back?  Please?”  Baxter raises his head at the sound of his name and looks at me challengingly,
daring me to even suggest it.

“Of cou
rse he can stay in here.”  I tell him, patting Baxter.  He chuffs at me approvingly and then stretches, spreading out the whole width of the bed.  Tucking Jacob back in, I put a finger to my lips as I back out and silently close the door.

Mom is sitting at the kitchen table eating a bowl of oatmeal, and watches me solemnly as I grab a bag of pop tarts and get my backpack.  “See you later,” I say neutrally, opening the garage door.  I don’t look back, knowing that she is still studying me.  I have no desire to look into those cold, dark eyes again.

I meet Chris at our spot before class but we keep it brief.  Everyone is behaving more and more like a hive mind.  We don’t think they can actually read minds or anything or else we would be in big trouble, but more like an ant or bee colony.  They seem to have a collective conscious and any behavior outside the normal routine is sure to bring unwanted attention. 

We must walk in an orderly fashion without talking or looking around, go straight to our assigned seats and take out our assigned material and begin studying.  When the bell rings, everyone stands together and leaves in the same order.  Everything that is done; every motion or look or gesture is with a purpose.  It is all extremely efficient and sterile, without emotion or individual thought.  It’s just plain creepy.

We agree to watch for any of the kids taken from the gym yesterday and then follow our plan later to look them up and find out where they live.  We’ll meet after school at the end of the main hiking trail I told him about.  We figure it’s best to go separately so we’re less likely to be seen together.

It doesn’t take long before I get an idea as to what happened to some of my classmates that were taken yesterday.  In first period, Tim and Matt obviously weren’t Shiners yesterday.  Tim is now gone, but Matt is slumped in his desk, quite sick.  It’s the same in the rest of my classes too.  I estimate about half of the kids from the gym are gone…so around fifty.  The rest of them are here, but sick.  The small list of names I had from yesterday is shrinking.  Their symptoms aren’t horrible, but definitely more pronounced than Moms were the day after the meteor shower.  It makes me wonder what was done to them.  It makes me nervous.

A sense of urgency builds throughout the day and I find it really hard to sit still in my last period.  Time is running out.  They’ve found a way to infect those of us that were initially immune to the virus.  They are turning us all into Shiners.  We have to get away.

I fight back the rising panic and almost run from the building at the end of the school day.  Hurrying to my truck, I lock myself inside and take long slow breaths while listening to some music.  After a couple of minutes I take out my cell phone and call home.  When Jacob answers on the fourth ring I almost cry with relief and ask him if everything is alright there…if Mom went to work.  Yes, things are fine and yes she went to work.  He sounds so relaxed that it’s tempting to believe this is all a dream but I know better than to fall into that trap.

It only takes me ten minutes to drive out to the trail head.  The small parking lot is empty so I pick a spot and get the other backpack I had put in the backseat last night.  It’s got water, snacks and my good hiking shoes in it.  Putting the shoes on, I sling the bag over my shoulder and set out at a brisk pace.  It will take close to two hours to reach the blind so I’ll be getting back home barely an hour before Mom does.  I have to make this fast.

A
mile up the main trail, over half way to the end of it I look up at the blazing sun and notice a column of dark grey smoke off to the left.  That’s odd.

While I catch my breath and take a drink of water, I wonder at what it could be.  It’s too dark for wood smoke and there aren’t any houses out this way.    As I watch, the column thickens and the hairs on the back of my neck start to stand up.  Shifting back and forth on my feet, I debate whether to wait here for Chris or take ten minutes to go investigate.

We had agreed to meet at the end of this trail, and he was going to start out about ten minutes or so after me.  We decided to leave our phones in our cars, just in case the GPS in them can be tracked.  Not much of a signal out here anyway.  Sighing, I step away from the path and head into the heavy woods.

The only other thing out this way is the old City Dump.  It hasn’t been in use for two years, ever since they built the nice new one on the other end of town.  If I’m right, it should be
right over the next little rise, a couple hundred yards away.

In only a few minutes, I reach the top of a long slope, and spread out below me is a narrow, green valley.  At the bottom, about a football field length away, are the remains of the dump.  What should be an abandoned field surrounded by old barbed wire fencing, is instead full of activity. 

Instinct tells me to stay hidden and I listen to it without hesitation.  Dropping down to my stomach, I hide behind some shrubs and peak out cautiously, squinting to make sense of the scene below me.

In the middle is what looks to be a freshly dug pit, the bull dozer still idling alongside the far edge of it.  The smoke I saw is rising from this hole and a gray haze has settled over the small valley.

Several pick-up trucks and a couple of long white vans are scattered around the field.  I recognize them as city vehicles and I wonder if maybe they started using this site again for whatever reason.  A handful of people are milling about, and it looks like there’s a bunch of garbage or bags piled up in the hole.

As I watch, two men walk up to the edge, carrying something between them.  With some effort, they toss it into the pit and then walk back to one of the vans that sit idling with its back doors open. 

In a minute or two, they are back again, this time with a lighter load.  My brain can’t quite wrap itself around the image, and I’m struggling to understand what I’m seeing.  Then, as they swing their arms back, readying to toss it in, I recognize the tie dyed shirt that Heather had been wearing yesterday at school.  I’d thought it was rather bold, because in the center of all the random color was a great big yellow smiley face and the words “because I can” written under it.  That same smiley face now flashes at me at it flies through the air…as
she
flies through the air on her way to the bottom of the pit.  Her long brown hair flows out as her body rolls a couple of times, coming to rest up against Tim in his distinctive, bright blue and white letterman jacket.

Vomit rising in my throat, I scramble away from the edge, away from the horror going on down there.  Slapping both my hands over my mouth, I’m desperate to muffle the scream that I know is about to escape.  Looking around at this suddenly alien landscape, I try to figure out which way to go but in my panic I’ve become disoriented.

Stumbling a couple of steps backwards down the slope, I happen to look to my left and catch a glimpse of Chris huddled behind some trees not more than a hundred feet away from me.  He must have seen the smoke too and gone to investigate the same as me.  His face is pale and he’s looking at me wild eyed, his finger raised to his mouth, the other hand gesturing urgently to me to get down.

With a tunnel vision brought on by my terror, I focus on his hand and follow its command, dropping down on all fours.  Once on the ground, I lose sight of him, and stare momentarily at the leaves under my hands, my heartbeat pounding in my head, filling my world.

Then something in me snaps and I’m scrambling frantically on my hands and knees down the hill, whimpering as I go.  Nearing where I left the trail, I slide sideways into a hollow and roll the rest of the way to the bottom.  Curling into a ball at the base of a tree, I put my hands over my ears, trying to block out a wailing sound that surrounds me and won’t stop. 

I become aw
are of hands gripping my arms and fight to get away, kicking and screaming.  “Alex!” Chris yells, and his voice breaks through my blind panic as he wrestles with me there in the pine needles and leaves.  “Alex!” he yells again, his own emotions making his voice thick but still recognizable. 

I finally calm down enough to realize that the wailing is coming from me, and that I must stop.  I have to stop.  Reaching out frantically, I cling to Chris’s shirt and bury my face in his broad chest.  His hands go to my back and he rocks me slowly, murmuring into my hair much the same way I did to Jacob that night we were told that Dad had died.

Through the haze of fear I’m aware that we are in a dangerous situation and as much as I want to have a complete breakdown, I can’t.  Not if I want to survive, not if I want my brother to survive.  I will
not
let him end up in that pit!

That thought brings me around and I pull away from Chris, gasping at the sharp contrast of emotions raging through me.  Now I’m mad.  So mad I could spit, or hit something or start yelling again.  Instead, I sit on my knees and look intensely at his face.  I imagine mine looks similar; much older than our sixteen and seventeen years…and determined.

“They killed them Chris,” I whisper hoarsely, my hands balling into fists.  “Heather, Tim, I think I saw your friend Kevin…
down
there.  There has to be over two hundred bodies
.
  Why?  Why would they do that?  Kids from school, people from town.  Because they didn’t get sick, didn’t change into Shiners?  I don’t understand.”

“I know Alex.  You’re right, it’s beyond understanding.  They’re gone, we can’t help them now,” he says, gesturing back towards the dump.  “But we might be able to help millions of others.  If there’s a way to stop this before it spreads, we have to do everything possible.”