In the Lone and Level Sands (5 page)

“What are you two doing?” she said. “We’re
ready to go.”

“Mrs. Kingsolver, there’s something wrong
with Richelle!”

“What do you mean?”

“Look!”

Amanda moved toward her daughter. “Richelle,
what’s wrong?” Richelle didn’t reply, and didn’t move. “Richelle,
answer me.” Amanda turned Richelle around and looked into her eyes.
They looked cold and distant, as if Richelle were somewhere else
entirely.

“What’s going on?” Mal asked. “What’s wrong
with her?” Mal began to cry, which made a few tears form in
Amanda’s eyes as well.

“I don’t know. Richelle, answer me! Stop
playing around! You’re scaring me!”

Richelle was staring at the wall behind
Amanda, but her eyes suddenly looked straight at her. Richelle
grunted and grabbed Amanda’s arm, then sunk her teeth into her
flesh. Mal screamed and rushed out of the bathroom, then toward
where her parents and Richelle’s dad were chatting. When they heard
Mal’s screams, they hurried to meet her halfway.

“Mal!” Evan said. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s Richelle!” Mal was breathing heavily.
“She bit her mom!”

“W-what?” Eugene Kingsolver said. Everyone
headed for the bathroom. Screams were filling the foyer and the
halls in the Belmont. Eugene tore the bathroom door open.

“Richelle!” Eugene said when he saw his
daughter digging into Amanda’s arm. Amanda tried to get her
daughter off, but Richelle had bitten deep into her muscle tissue.
Evan reached for his cell phone while Eugene got behind Richelle,
grabbed her, and pulled. Finally he managed to pry her off, and
then he restrained her arms. Blood dribbled down her chin and was
smeared all over the bottom half of her face.

“I know this sounds crazy,” Evan said into
his phone, “but a girl bit her mother. She’s bleeding really bad.
We need an ambulance.” He nodded, looking at Eugene as he struggled
to hold Richelle. “Yes, the Belmont Theater. We’re in the girl’s
restroom just to the left of the front. Okay. Hurry, please!”

Amanda pumped the lever on the paper towel
box, grabbing half of its contents to wrap around the tear in her
arm.

The door to the bathroom swung open so hard
it hit the wall. A man in his mid-to-late-twenties with a buzz cut
entered; there was a hint of blood on his WWE T-shirt. Behind him
was a rather plain woman with long, styled-down brown hair.

“What the fuck is going on out there?” the
plain woman said.

“This isn’t happening,” the man in the WWE
shirt said He leaned against the door, part holding it shut and
part catching his breath. “This can’t be happening!”

“We’re getting help,” Evan said.

Soon someone tried to push the door open,
and the man in the WWE shirt moved to let two paramedics into the
bathroom. One was a woman with blonde hair pulled back in a
ponytail, and the other a tall man with brown, gelled hair and a
bite on his arm.

Mal was on the floor with her mother,
crying, scared. The others were scattered around the bathroom.

“It’ll be okay,” Cynthia said. “It’ll all be
all right. Richelle will be fine, everything will be fine.”

“Don’t worry, we’re trained professionals.
This is Ryan, I’m Stephanie. We’re EMTs. Things are going to be
just fine, as long as we all remain calm.”

Mal shifted from Cynthia to Evan. He hugged
her tightly, but it did little to quell her tears. Evan felt like
breaking down, but he had to stay strong for Mal.

“We need to get the girl out of here!”
Stephanie said.

Before they could figure out how, a crackly
voice broke into the room, coming from a radio holstered to
Stephanie’s belt.

“All EMTs, please be advised, do not, I
repeat,
do not
approach anyone acting strangely or anyone
who has been bitten. We’ve just received confirmation that the
current phenomenon is transmitted through bite; repeat: Do not
approach anyone who has been bitten! Do not allow yourself to be
bitten!”

The already-confused people in the bathroom
exchanged glances. Amanda and Mal continued to cry.

“Sir, let me handle her, you need to back
away,” Ryan said to Eugene.

“No!” Eugene said. “She’s my little g-girl!
She’s no monster, there m-must be a way to fix this!”

“Sir, please maintain a safe distance,”
Stephanie said. “No one is saying she’s a monster. Don’t worry,
Ryan will take care of her.” Ryan nodded.

Eugene tried to shift Richelle over to Ryan,
but Ryan’s arms dropped and he stood still. Richelle dove for
Amanda, but she hopped back and Richelle hit her head on a sink and
fell to the ground, where she lay still.

“Ryan?” Stephanie said. Ryan groaned and
grabbed for Eugene, who tripped backward and fell. The man in the
WWE shirt stepped forward and shoved Ryan before he could pounce on
Eugene.

“I think we need to leave,” Evan said.

“N-no!” Eugene said. Amanda grunted and
reached for Mal, teeth bared. Cynthia pulled Mal away, toward the
door. Evan shoved Amanda while Cynthia ushered Mal into the
hall.

“The ambulance is just outside, we’ll
regroup there,” Stephanie said. “Go!”

Everyone filed out of the bathroom. Eugene
began making high-pitched sucking noises as the man in the WWE
shirt lifted him up and hurried him along after them.

“That sounds like asthma,” Stephanie said.
Eugene nodded, then struggled weakly to get out of Jason’s grasp.
Stephanie searched Eugene for an inhaler, found it, and brought it
to his mouth.

As soon as Eugene could talk he said, “My
wife, my daughter!” but his legs kept him moving forward.

The group emerged from the Belmont Theater.
Outside, people were running and screaming through the night.
Others were being attacked. Sirens filled the air, and a shop
across the street was going up in flames.

Stephanie opened the back of the ambulance
and everyone climbed in, then she closed the door and headed to the
front seat.

“Wait,” Cynthia said, “we’re leaving?”

“We can’t stay here,” Stephanie said.

“My family!” Eugene said. Stephanie rounded
on him.

“I lost my partner in there!”

For a minute no one said anything. Then
someone slammed into the window on the passenger side of the
ambulance. Stephanie jumped, and as the man outside pounded on the
window until the glass cracked, she reached for her keys.

“I have to go to them,” Eugene said. He
reached for the door, but the man in the WWE shirt grabbed him.
“Let g-go of m-me!”

“Sorry, man.”

The passenger window shattered and the
engine roared to life. Stephanie hit the gas and the ambulance
jerked forward. The man at the window grunted and moaned as he
struggled to hold on. His feet dragged along the ground, leaving
trails of blood in the parking lot. Finally he let go and rolled
along the ground.

Eugene began to cry.

“I think you can let him go now,” Cynthia
said.

“Sorry.” The man in the WWE shirt let go of
Eugene, who sat still, sobbing. “The name’s Jason. Jason Cash.”

“Look at that,” the plain-looking woman
said. She was pointing out the window. The ambulance weaved in and
out of wrecked vehicles and others perfectly intact, whose drivers
no longer cared about traffic laws.

“I’m trying not to,” Evan said.

“We need to get off the streets,” Stephanie
said. “It’s not safe.”

“Is anywhere safe?” Jason said. Cynthia sat
forward suddenly.

“I think I know a place.”

9

In the Air

The plane bobbed suddenly, and Layne gripped
the arm of his seat tightly. Alex giggled.

“Don’t worry, it’s normal,” she said.

“I know,” Layne said. He didn’t feel any
better, though. He knew the chances of the plane going down were
low, but he didn’t like high places, and a plane was just about as
high a place as one could get. The plane jerked again, and Layne
had the same reaction.

“You’re going to rip the arm right off of
the seat.”

“It’s a natural reaction. I don’t like
heights.”

“You’re not even at the window.” Alex
laughed.

“Doesn’t mean I’m not thousands of feet in
the air,” Layne said. Alex’s laughing didn’t annoy him; it had a
sort of calming effect, it let him know how silly he was being.

The plane jerked harder than before, and
Layne grabbed both arms and shut his eyes.

“Quit that,” Alex said. “You’re going to be
fine.” She took Layne’s left hand, which startled him. The plane
dipped slightly, and this time, he wasn’t allowed to squeeze.
“See?”

Layne smiled. His right hand had still
clamped down on the arm of the seat, but at least he was beginning
to appear less afraid. Layne looked at Alex’s hand and noticed a
rainbow-colored bracelet with dice-block letters on it.

“I like your bracelet,” he said.

“Thanks. My mother made this for me when I
was young.”

“What does it say?”

“It says ‘Hope Perseveres’. She used to say
it a lot, whenever we were having trouble. She used to remind me
that hope would get us through anything.”

“I like that,” Layne said. The plane shook.
“I can use it right about now, too.”

****

In the cabin the co-pilot, a young man named
Oliver, was trying to make small talk, but the pilot gave one-word
answers, if he said anything at all. Finally Oliver gave up, and
hoped that the next flight would have a friendlier captain.

It was dark out, so there was little to look
at other than the array of blinking lights and switches before him.
Oliver thought he could fall asleep, then wondered if perhaps the
pilot already had. It was impossible to tell behind the man’s
aviator sunglasses.

A slow, steady beep brought Oliver out of
his daydream. He looked for the source, and found that the plane
had been slowly losing altitude, and was starting to approach
landing levels.

“Hey, man,” he said to the pilot, “you gonna
get that?”

The pilot made no attempt to respond.

“Hello?” Oliver said. He snapped his fingers
before the pilot’s face. No answer. Oliver sighed and pulled up on
his control stick. The plane didn’t respond, and he realized that
the pilot’s controls were overriding his own. Oliver leaned over
the pilot, feeling awkward as he had his face near the guy’s lap.
He searched for the override switch.

“Uhhhh,” the pilot said.

“I don’t like it any more than you do, but
since you’re so tired—”

The pilot leaned forward and bit into the
back of Oliver’s neck. Oliver screamed, and he could feel blood
streaming down his neck. Then, he felt his skin tear as the pilot
sat up.

Oliver scrambled away from the pilot. “What
the hell?” He pressed a hand against the back of his neck, but this
only caused a sharp pain to shoot through his body. He thought he
felt bone.

The pilot struggled to stand up, but was
strapped into his chair. It was like he didn’t know how to work a
seatbelt. He looked at Oliver as though he’d just noticed him, and
lurched toward him. Oliver punched the pilot so hard the skin
between his knuckles split, but the pilot merely recoiled and then
returned to his attempt to unshackle himself. Oliver punched him
again, and the pilot’s glasses snapped and flew from his face.

The pilot looked at Oliver, but he seemed
distant, like his mind was somewhere else, leaving the body to do
as it pleased.

Oliver got up and headed for the cabin door,
but the pilot grabbed him as he was passing. Oliver struggled, but
the pilot was stronger, and he took Oliver’s arm in both hands
before sinking his teeth into it. Oliver screamed again. He reached
for his headset to radio the ground, but he couldn’t reach it. He
began pounding on the pilot’s head and face as hard as he could.
The pilot went on biting as though nothing was happening.

The pilot ripped another scrap of flesh from
him. Oliver was freed, and he fell to the ground. He stood up, but
fell back down, feeling dizzy and very faint, like his mind was
leaving him, like sleep was creeping in. He crawled to the door and
reached for the handle. He could grasp it, but he couldn’t open it,
and even if he could have, he wouldn’t have been able to walk out.
Oliver felt himself fading, and he wasn’t sure why. He was
bleeding, but the whole matter had taken only a minute or two, so
he didn’t think he was losing enough blood to die. What was going
on?

Unsure of what to do, Oliver thought of
everyone else on board. He reached just below the door handle and
locked the cabin door, then let his arm fall to the floor. He
almost immediately realized that he had probably done more harm
than good, as now no one could get into the cabin to put the plane
back in the air. It was the last rational thought he would ever
have.

The pilot thrashed in his seat, unable to
undo his belts. He began frantically pounding the board before him,
and then there was a loud chugging sound.

****

Layne was still holding Alex’s hand when he
heard the noise. It was like a loud, sporadic whirring, and then,
after a moment, the whirring ceased. Layne looked out through the
window and saw nothing but black. He looked ahead and saw a bag of
peanuts that had been on his tray slide toward him, almost
floating, and then he heard the screams, felt himself lift out of
his seat. If he could talk, he would’ve asked Alex if this too was
normal, knowing perfectly well that it wasn’t.

The plane was falling.

10

At the Ferrington

Jordan stood in front of his register
ringing up various purchases. The night had gone mostly steady, but
the store was busy. Jordan had a moment to rest, and saw Evelyn
Forthland, the second assistant manager, move around the teenaged
checker on register nine to take control of an order containing
alcohol.