The Becoming (2 page)

Brandt couldn’t hold it back, though, and he hunched over the gravel and vomited. His throat burned and his eyes watered as he gripped the edge of the building and dug his fingers into the stone. His chest heaved as he coughed up the remains of his last meal. Brandt rocked back on his heels, wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand, and cleared his throat. The taste in his mouth was awful, but it was the last thing on his mind. He felt at his face, testing his own temperature as best he could. Brandt couldn’t tell if he was running a fever or if it was just heat generated by his climb up the fire escape ladder. He was sure he would be feeling the symptoms by now if…

Brandt shook his head, clearing his throat once more as he took in the view. “A virus did all of this?” he whispered hoarsely. He looked upon the city once more. The city in which he’d grown up. The city he had loved more than any other city he’d seen in his time in the military. It was like nothing Brandt had ever witnessed before. It was the beginning of the end of civilization, and the thought terrified him. “How can this even be possible?” he asked out loud to no one.

Derek Rivers was wrong. Derek Rivers had to have been wrong. The man who had warned him of this very possibility was long dead, one of the early victims of the viral outbreak that, even now, swept over Atlanta and beyond with a speed to rival the Black Death itself. Brandt had thought that Derek had exaggerated in his tales of test subjects and viruses and drugs. But Derek hadn’t exaggerated. Indeed, Derek hadn’t gone far enough in his description of the total devastation that the virus could visit upon the city. Brandt doubted that the man had ever thought it would get this far, that he had ever thought his worst-case scenario would come so terrifyingly true.

“Which way, which way?” Brandt whispered. He forced himself to his feet once more. It wasn’t time to be puking on a roof and reminiscing about men who were likely dead. He slowly surveyed the rooftop, searching for an escape route and a plan. He looked in every direction, uncertain which way would be safest. None of them, really. Safety was a foreign concept to Atlanta now.

Before Brandt went anywhere, however, he needed weapons. He needed food. He needed water. And he needed a place to hide for the night.

Ethan Bennett’s green eyes fluttered open slowly and reluctantly as he surfaced to consciousness. A beam of sunlight filtered through the blinds hanging over the window and insisted on shining directly onto his face. Ethan groaned and shifted, rolling over onto his side. He squeezed his eyes closed again and tried to avoid the painfully bright light. His head hurt, and when he tried to swallow, his throat was rough, as if it had been sandpapered. He had the distinct sensation of having been run over by a truck.

Yes, he had definitely drunk entirely too much the night before.

Ethan hadn’t really meant to drink so much. It was far outside his normal character to get so smashingly drunk. But when the police officers from the first precinct in Memphis held an off-duty get-together, things tended to get pretty wild. And it
had
been a celebration. Ethan had just been promoted, and his coworkers felt that there was no better way to rejoice over such an event than to virtually kidnap him and drag him to the nearest bar for “a few drinks.”

“A few drinks” had, of course, culminated in Ethan puking in some poor bastard’s bushes and his coworkers laughing and threatening to take pictures to mark the occasion. He hadn’t lost his stomach like that since his days of illicit underage drinking in high school. It was more than a little embarrassing.

Ethan rolled over and looked at Anna’s side of the bed. It was empty, the pillow gone cold. He squinted at the alarm clock; its red numbers seared a hole in his brain. It was almost noon. His wife had likely been awake and up for hours already. Ethan was usually up with her; the only time he ever slept in was when he’d had to work the graveyard shift at the police station. Or when he was drunk.

That wouldn’t happen very often anymore, though. He was a major now, the youngest by almost eight years in all the precincts that made up the Memphis Police Department. He was barely thirty-nine, and he’d already risen to one of the highest ranks in the entire department. It was a serious accomplishment, but one that was hardly unexpected. Ethan had always taken his job seriously, and the rewards had always been plentiful. When the rumors of the position opening up had begun to circulate among the officers, it had been a given among the gossipers that Ethan Bennett would be offered the job. And now that he had been, he’d discovered that he was incredibly contented with his life and the way it was going for him. He didn’t know how it could possibly get any better.

Ethan flopped onto his back and grunted as he rubbed at his face with both hands. His palms met stubble, and he grimaced. He needed to shave. He would have to get out of bed to do it. The very idea was incompatible with the temptation to stay firmly ensconced in his blankets all day. He wondered where exactly Anna was. Neither of them had to work that day. Perhaps he would take her out to dinner after his headache had subsided to tolerable levels.

As the thought wandered through his brain, Ethan sat up in bed and looked around blearily. His eyes didn’t want to focus properly. A note rested by the alarm clock; he stretched over and grabbed the paper. His wife’s loopy handwriting greeted him.

Ethan,

I went next door to Cade’s. She’s doing barbecue at her place this afternoon and invited us over. She says for you to bring the beer unless you used it all marinating your liver last night. Come over whenever you’re feeling up to getting out of bed. There are two aspirin on the sink in the bathroom and a little breakfast in the fridge if your stomach can handle it. Congratulations on your promotion!

Anna

P.S. I love you!

Ethan grinned and slipped the note into the bedside table’s drawer. A stack of similar notes was already inside; he didn’t think he’d ever thrown a single one away. He forced himself out of bed and stood awkwardly beside it as the room swam. He grabbed the bedpost and waited until his head steadied before he made his way to the bathroom.

The aspirin were right where Anna’s note had said they’d be. He swallowed both pills dry and studied himself in the mirror above the sink. His green eyes were bloodshot and red rimmed, and his blond hair, normally combed to look neat and professional, looked like a rat had slept in it all night. He shoved at it ineffectually and then lifted his arm for a sniff.

Ethan jerked his head back away from his arm. That had been a mistake. He smelled like sweat, grime, booze, and cigarette smoke, like he’d lived in a heavily used locker room for two weeks without showering. It was quite possibly the worst he’d ever smelled, and he couldn’t fathom how Anna had managed to sleep in the same room, the same
bed
as him. There was no way he was going to go to Cade’s smelling like this. Cade would never let him hear the end of it.

After a long, hot shower, Ethan felt almost human again. His hangover was mostly gone, though his stomach still felt queasy at the idea of food. Regardless, he dressed and went to the kitchen. He made a quick stop at the refrigerator to take out two six-packs of beer, and he smiled at the plate of pancakes sitting by the milk. He debated eating them but instead shook his head and went out the back door to cross the yard to Cade’s.

Anna Bennett and Cade Alton sat at the glass-topped patio table, drinking tall glasses of iced tea as Cade kept an eye on the smoking grill nearby. The scent of cooking meat wafted from the grill, and Ethan had an odd shuddery feeling in his gut, as if his stomach were trying to turn itself inside out. He gave the two women a halfhearted wave and collapsed into one of the patio chairs. He set the packs of beer on the ground beside him and leaned forward to rest his forehead against the cool table with a whine that made him sound absolutely pathetic. He was past the point of caring.

“Look who finally decided to grace us with his presence,” Cade cooed in her lightly accented voice as she ruffled his hair. Ethan didn’t bother to look up as he lifted a hand just enough to stick his middle finger into the air. This merely sent Cade into a peal of laughter. Ethan couldn’t think of a single time when Cade had actually taken offense to an insult he’d lobbed at her in the entire seven years they’d known each other.

Ethan dropped his hand back to the table with a thump. “Why exactly are we grilling out in January?” he asked Cade.

“Because it’s an unseasonably warm sixty-nine degrees, and I’m a shameless carnivore,” Cade responded. She took a deep swallow from her tea and set the glass down heavily beside Ethan. He jerked up a few inches as the thud rang through his head.

“Hon,” Anna’s sweet voice said from Ethan’s left. “Did you find that aspirin I left you?”

“Yeah, I took it,” Ethan mumbled. “And a shower. I still feel like shit, though.”

“You look like it too,” Cade added gleefully.

Ethan rolled his eyes and turned his head just a fraction to look at her. “Don’t you have someone else to insult?”

“Yes, but Drew is asleep right now,” Cade said. She lifted her tea glass and took another sip. “He just got back in from a conference or something near Atlanta. I honestly wasn’t paying much attention to what he was talking about. Some tech stuff that went way over my head.” She slid out of her chair and went to the grill to turn the meat. “He’s been sick, though. Practically hacking his lungs out through his throat. I think he’s got the flu or something, but he hasn’t gone to the doctor about it.”

“He’ll clue in and do it if he’s not feeling well by Monday,” Anna assured Cade as she sipped from her glass.

Cade shook her head and made a face. She directed her next statement to Ethan. “So, you missed all the fun parts of our discussion out here,
achi
.”

“What parts?” Ethan asked, even as a slight smile spread across his face at Cade’s term of endearment.

“The parts where we discussed your,
ahem,
indiscretions from last night.”

Ethan picked up a lemon slice from the small plate in the center of the table and threw it at the back of Cade’s head. It bounced off her dark hair as his aim rang true. “I
had
no indiscretions,” he replied.

“Tell that to the poor bushes you desecrated,” Cade teased. She set the tongs down and closed the lid on the grill as she turned back to him. She smiled suddenly. “By the way, there’s a certain four-year-old someone in the house who’s been here for over a week and would probably
love
to see you.”

Ethan sat up and rubbed his face as Cade’s words sank into his skull. “Josie’s here?” he asked with more energy in his voice. Ever since he and Anna had found out that they couldn’t have children, Ethan had become ridiculously attached to his best friend’s niece, and the little girl always seemed equally enthusiastic to see her “Uncle Ethan” when she came all the way from Israel to visit Cade.

Anna gave Ethan a smile as she motioned to the sliding glass doors leading into the kitchen. “She was in the living room last time I saw her,” she said before Cade spoke further. “Watching TV or something.”

“SpongeBob,” Cade said as she returned to her chair. “She’s obsessed. It drives me nuts. I’ll get that theme song stuck in my head on a loop for hours. Nothing will drive you crazier faster than the same damn pirate on TV eighteen dozen times a day.”

Ethan laughed and stood. He made his way toward the house, leaving the two women in the back yard. After he stopped at the fridge to drop off the beer, he headed into the living room.

A little girl in a pink sweater and khaki pants, her hair plaited, sat on the floor in front of the television. She watched, transfixed, as the yellow sponge and his pink friend did Heaven only knew what inside a cardboard box. Ethan grinned as he watched Josie, reluctant to interrupt her fascination with the show. He waited until the commercial break before he snuck up and grabbed her from behind.

“What do you think you’re doing?” Ethan asked in a mock-menacing voice. Josie squealed and laughed as she twisted around and saw who it was.

“Uncle Ethan!” she said joyously. She threw her small arms around his neck in a tight hug. For a moment, Ethan closed his eyes and pretended that she was his.

“Hey, baby girl!” Ethan said. He scooped her up and returned the hug before he settled her against his hip. “How are you doing today?”

“Good,” she said as she held on to him. “Aunt Cade is making me a hot dog.”

“A hot dog, huh?” Ethan said. “Your favorite food, right?” Ethan couldn’t stand hot dogs. There was just something about that particular bit of meat that made him cringe a little inside. He was sure that the repeated readings of Upton Sinclair’s
The Jungle
in high school hadn’t helped any; after that, Ethan was surprised that he hadn’t become a vegetarian.

“Yes,” Josie answered with an enthusiastic nod. “Is it done yet? I’m hungry.”

“I don’t know, honey. Let’s go outside and find out,” Ethan suggested. He carried her to the back patio doors. As he passed the doorway leading into the den, Ethan glanced inside and saw a lump under a blanket on the couch; he assumed it was Cade’s boyfriend, Andrew, taking a nap after his week-long trip to Georgia. Ethan left him alone and headed out the back door.

Anna and Cade remained at the table, talking, as Ethan joined them once more. He settled Josie on his lap comfortably and rubbed her back as he stole Anna’s glass of tea for a sip. “I figured the other lady in the house should join in on our fun out here,” he said as his wife swatted at him and took her drink back.