LZR-1143 (Book 4): Desolation (10 page)

Kate chuckled slightly to herself and she slammed a finger against the elevator call button. Mrs. Richards had always watched far too much of that conservative news station—the one that peddled fear over facts and fiction over reality.
 

“Okay, will do,” she said, as Buster exploded in angry yelps, lunging for the door across the hall from the old woman, who frowned and leaned forward.

“Sounds like Mr. Travis is drunk again,” she shook her head and knocked on the door a few times. “Something’s knocking against this door.” She sighed and reached for the knob.
 

“I guess I should check on him,” she offered as the elevator doors opened and Kate stepped in and turned around. Buster was lunging for the door again and Mrs. Richard waved once before Kate smiled again and the doors shut behind her.
 

Wrapped up in her own thoughts of her daughter and the vast distance between them—physical as well as a growing emotional distance—Kate didn’t quite catch the scream from several floors above her as the elevator descended.
 

The parking garage was nearly empty and she shook her head again as she pulled out onto the street and took the first onramp for the freeway. Leaving the windows open, she put a hand on her forehead and drove with her right hand, listening to the radio as she moved at roughly thirty miles per hour in the packed traffic. In the distance, a single plume of smoke was rising from some unknown fire several miles away.
 

The last time Liz had stayed with her had been wonderful. They had taken a trip to Bar Harbor, she had made new friends in Kate’s building, they had cooked and gossiped and watched movies.
 

It had been perfect.
 

But the custody agreement—a quirk of international law that allowed six month stays instead of the American version of primary custody with visitation—prevented Liz from staying.
 

So after their time together, she was all too quickly standing at the security screening area at JFK, hugging her daughter and crying softly into a ratty tissue. She told herself the time would pass quickly, but it didn’t. That was four months ago.
 

Now, to fill the void that her daughter’s absence had left, she worked. She researched and she took on extra shifts. She had tried dating, but she had only put in half the effort it required, and had dated one man for several weeks before realizing that, while sweet and meeting her minimum standards of ‘not a psycho killer,’ he was more interested in his work than her. So she broke it off.
 

Most nights, when she wasn’t working, she sat at home, watching trashy soap operas and Discovery Channel specials in equal parts, in addition to keeping a quasi-religious attachment to her workout regimen—something that she clung to as a lifeline of normalcy.
 

The car in front of her—a late model SUV—braked suddenly, and she cursed loudly, hitting the brakes and slamming her hands against the wheel. Ahead, brake lights illuminated the entire width of the roadway. Far in the distance, flashing red and blue emergency lights twirled. A man staggered across the roadway far ahead, moving between two cars in apparent confusion.
 

Jesus, what a mess.

Picking up the phone to call the Park—she would need to ask someone else to cover her group session—she was momentarily confused by the picture of her sister on the phone’s screen before understanding that she had lifted the phone to her ear at the exact time her sister was calling. Sure enough, the stereo cut out from some frantic-sounding dee-jay to a ring tone.
 

She hit the key on her phone and answered.
 

“Hi Kara, what’s up?”
 

“Kate? Jesus. Been trying to call you for the last half hour—where have you been?”
 

“On the line with Liz then driving. We still on for this weekend? I have a group at three on Friday, but I should be able to get in the car by five. I can be in Philly by around nine if that …”

“Have you been watching the news, Kate?” Her voice was concerned and hurried. Kate assumed it was the pace of her life. Kara had three kids between the ages of three and six, and didn’t get much rest.
 

Her husband was a cop and they couldn’t afford babysitting. That’s why she was heading to Philly this weekend—a late birthday present for her beleaguered sibling. Free babysitting two nights in a row. Couldn’t ask for more.
 

“No, I don’t usually have it on in the morning. Read a few articles online, but mostly on work stuff. Why?”
 

“There’s some shit going down. DC, Philly, New York… a few other larger cities. Some say terrorists, some say gangs. It’s not clear. I’ve been watching it all morning. Have you seen anything where you are?”

Kate chuckled as she craned her head to see where the stoppage was happening. The cars ahead were starting to move, shifting to the right three lanes to avoid a slow-down in the left hand median. She applied the gas and glanced at the smoke in the distance that seemed to be increasing. Had the fire company gotten there yet? Usually they were pretty fast.

“My nosy neighbor heard something on her right wing nut job television show, and the fucking traffic is normally assed up, but otherwise …”

“Thanks for that. Let me take you off speakerphone.” To her son, who had been banging something loudly in the background, she yelled. “Go play with your sister, let me talk to Aunt Kate!”
 

“Sorry sis, didn’t know …”
 

“You should work on your fucking vulgarity, ass-clown,” Kara said softly, and they both laughed. It was an old joke. Kate had a tendency toward the vulgar, and her sister tolerated it with good humor.

“Seriously, though, nothing?”

Kate sighed as the traffic started to move quicker, and she passed the wreck on the left side of the road that was slowing the flow of cars. A mangled import with its hood shoved into the passenger compartment, and the engine block in the front seat—hung from the rear of a larger utility truck, a pool of blood underneath the smaller car’s driver side door. Kate grimaced and began to look away, until an odd detail caught her eye.
 

A bloody handprint on the back of the van.
 

Bizarre.
 

Someone who survived that kind of wreck shouldn’t have been able to walk. They would have been lucky to continue breathing.
 

“I see a plume of smoke in the distance, and I am sitting in traffic. About par for the course for Long Island, Kara. Listen, I’m sure it’s another Bird Flu scare or something. Don’t worry about it. I’m sure it’s being handled.”
 

“You mean like Katrina was handled? Or 9/11? Or …”

“Come on, don’t you have anything better to do than worry about the world ending?”
 

The traffic was moving in earnest now and Kate released an easy breath and relaxed slightly. She might make her group session after all.
 

“No. I’m a mom. All I think about is the world ending and how I can keep my kids safe.” She paused for a second as Kate rolled her eyes. “Shit, sorry Kate. I didn’t mean …”
 

“I know, I know. It’s fine. I talked to her this morning and it’s only two more months.” She took a breath.
 

“I can make it that long. I’ve been staying busy at work, and I can focus on having her again for six full months very soon. That’s the upside of this custody agreement—when I have her, it’s for real.” In her rearview mirror, she caught another set of emergency lights and moved to the right lane.

“Listen Kara, I’ve gotta go. Love to the kids and send you a text when I leave here on Friday, okay? Turn the television off for a while…read a book or something.” Kate smiled as she heard the cacophony of children in the background—chaos of the first order indeed.

“Fuck you, Kate,” her sister said affectionately. Then, “I’ll see you soon, hon.”

Chuckling, Kate ended the call and flipped through the radio stations until she found NPR, hoping for some news. But her drive was only five more minutes and they were in the middle of a pledge drive.
 

By the time she pulled into her parking spot, the producers had only managed to rake in seven dollars, and she barely had time to drop her things in her office before making her way to the nurse’s station.

“Thought you weren’t gonna make it,” said Rhonda, the large charge nurse sitting behind the counter. “Was gonna call in a backup.”
 

Her wide face betrayed her amusement as she handed Kate the clipboard with the roster of patients on it. Kate took it in a whirl of white coat and put the clipboard between her teeth and she tied up her long brown hair and winked at Rhonda.

She dropped the clipboard in her hand and scanned the list.

“I like to make an entrance,” she said, nodding as she read the names of the participants. “Who’s with me today?”
 

Rhonda looked at her computer screen and listed off two names, orderlies that Kate had never met before.
 

“Where’s Greg? Cecil?”
 

“They called in today. Sick I guess. Got these guys from Ward C on a last minute basis. Guess this stuff on the radio is something to pay attention to.”
 

Kate frowned.

“This is the second time I’ve heard talk about some gang violence or something—anything I need to worry about?”

Rhonda shrugged.
 

“I don’t know. Depends on whether you believe cable news folk. They’ve been talking up a storm about a few incidents. Mostly just people bein’ people, attacking each other. Different cities, including New York. Someone got a cell phone video of some guy biting some other guy. Probably drunk or on acid or bath salts or something. But nothing local yet. Not that I’ve heard.”

She looked at her watch pointedly. “Aren’t you supposed to be …?”

Kate cursed softly and pushed away from the nurse’s station, moving to the courtyard. “Yep, got it. Thanks!”
 

On warm days, they took the patients into the quad. Research had proven—some of it Kate’s—that sunlight had a very curative effect on some mental illnesses. She tried to work through group issues outside whenever possible, and several of the patients on this list had made amazing progress in a short time. She took a deep breath as she walked onto the green grass opposite the main entrance and took in the circle of eight chairs, already filled with her usual crowd. Two orderlies lounged nearby, watching the patients carefully.

Kate pushed the thoughts of her daughter into the back of her mind, focusing on the short two months until they would see one another. It was a beautiful day, and she could make this work. She just had to push through the tough spots.
 

Forcing a smile on her face that she didn’t quite feel, she took her chair at the head of the group and began.

In the distance behind her, several figures staggered slowly through the open gates of the large facility, eyes wide and staring. Sirens blared in increasing frequency in the city beyond.
 

“Good morning, everyone. How are we feeling today?”

***

I yawned loudly and covered my mouth before inhaling too much dust and dirt from the rancid air of the nudie bar as I stared out the narrow peephole.

The one inch gap between the broken door and the slanted frame afforded enough space to peer into the ashen daylight outside. The truck blocked most of the view, but I could tell that the herd had moved on.
 

We had been careful to be quiet as we slipped inside, and as they had come into view, we were already disappearing into the bar. They must have passed by, continuing on toward the road we had just come from, pressing forward for food, or some other unknown and unknowable purpose.
 

Like a faint dusting of new fallen snow, the ash was beginning to accumulate in a discernible layer over the broken pieces of the world outside. It obscured visibility, and created a fog of powdery uncertainty which would help us move during the reduced light. It would be helpful to have the visibility when we hit the river. No matter what we faced there, it wouldn’t be easy, I was sure of it.
 

Ky was sleeping when I returned, and Kate had already found a place next to the young girl, a single hand on her shoulder, the lazy form of Romeo on the other side. He looked up once when I entered, sniffed, and went back to sleep.

Kate twitched and muttered in her uneasy sleep, and I frowned in concern, watching her with worry until slumber grabbed my hand and led me away.
 

I was uneasy, and sleep was long in coming. When it came, the dreams pushed me into a fitful slumber. I woke several times, trying to shake it off. But my rest was brief, and unfulfilling.
 

The sun was still weak through the vent in the ceiling when I woke, and I ate a small meal quietly, staring aimlessly at the wall. I glanced at the others, seeing the rise and fall of chests in a deep sleep.
 
The events of the day before were still shaking my confidence, and after the last few months, I didn’t need to dwell on the things that could keep us away from our goal. Like the potential for a destroyed Vancouver, or the lack of roads or other semblances of normalcy as we moved north.

No, I needed to look ahead. And I needed to somehow convince myself that what we were doing—our mission and our goal—were realistic.
 

Kate was the first to stir, and she awakened to my zoned-out stare. She smiled uneasily.