The Dead Divide Us (Book 1) (5 page)
Most recently though, and this thought kept coming back to Paul now, both families made a trip upstate deep into the mountains. They spent a week at a cabin owned by Roy’s father, Butch Benton. What a great name, Paul always thought. The cabin was fairly isolated; they had to bring five full coolers of food and drinks. And another truck, Paul’s truck, was filled with other camping supplies.
“We trust you guys too, Roy,” Ruth said and then looked at Paul with a worried gaze.
Paul now walked back to the center island. The box of frosted flakes wobbled as his hip hit against the counter top.
“Roy, listen this might be premature but…”
“The cabin, right?”
“Yeah, how’d you know I was going to say that?” Paul asked.
“I’m good at reading people, and that’s what I’ve been thinking about too. That cabin would be a great place to hold up if things got really bad around here,” Roy explained.
Ruth stood up, now clearly worried and a little angry.
“Aren’t we jumping the gun here guys? I mean, Jesus, really?”
Paul reached out and took his wife’s hand, then pulled her in close for a hug. She began to cry into his shoulder, and as she did, he smelled the fresh scent of clean cotton cloth coming off her bathrobe. Paul now longed for sleep.
“We aren’t saying that we are definitely going to the cabin, just saying that it’s an option if things turn for the worse,” Roy said calmly.
“We’d have to do a lot of supply gathering before we go and perch ourselves up there in the mountains,” Paul said.
“You’re right Paul. Hey, I’m going to get back to Kirsten and Alexis. I suggest we keep an eye on the news and even try to catch some sleep before the town meeting. Paul, I’d like you to ride there with me, if that’s okay,” Roy said.
Ruth, still in Paul’s arms, turned back to face Roy.
“Yeah, that’s fine. I’ll come by after seven?” Paul asked.
Roy walked toward the kitchen door.
“That’s perfect. Remember guys: keep this internet imagery thing a secret for now. I’m sure when morning comes this will all look a hell of a lot better than it does now,” Roy said and was about to leave when he heard a loud ringing sound. It was Paul’s cell phone.
Paul quickly reached into his pocket and pulled out his phone.
The caller ID read: Robert’s Cell.
1
Robert slammed his truck into gear while speed-dialing his brother Paul. As he positioned himself in his weathered driver's seat, Robert noticed a few tiny snowflakes rush up onto the windshield. The gray skies told him no lie; the white stuff was going to fall today in Colton, Pennsylvania. Robert turned his 1989 Ford Bronco, a mixture of green and rust on the outside, onto Main Street. He was headed out of town and was only two blocks away from his apartment building leaving that mess behind. Robert was pained about the situation he left in his apartment; how in the hell was he going to return later? He all but decimated his landlord with a baseball bat. Carl’s bloody and battered (pun intended) corpse was rotting away in Robert’s bedroom. Robert had done it all in self-defense, no doubt about that, but it was still hard to believe just how Carl was acting beforehand. Robert wondered if that was how others who were “sick” were acting. To make it worse, Robert drove away with two National Guardsmen standing outside of his place. Had they known something? Did they suspect him?
Robert drove another two blocks before asking himself, “Why the hell did I drive down Main Street when I could have taken the back roads out of town?” His mind raced at the thought of running into more authority figures. In his mind, any authority figures would just
know
what he had done this morning to Carl. Feeling like he was an outlaw that had broken a hundred ancient and sacred rules, he played over in his mind how he would explain why he had done it once he was inevitably caught.
“Hello, Rob?” Paul’s voice yelled over the cell phone bringing Robert back to reality.
His mind had been racing so fast he didn’t notice that Paul had answered, nor did he notice the Colton Fire Company now in sight, the apparent ‘safe place’ where he would be taking his parents…soon.
“Paul! Jesus man, sorry…sorry, I’m here,” Robert said snapping back into attention.
“Is everything alright? You get to Mom and Dad’s already?” Paul hurriedly asked.
“No, no, not yet. I’m on my way there now, I ran into…” Robert said, but was suddenly interrupted as he had to slam on his brakes. His truck came to a screeching halt and for a moment he thought it might flip over on its front left side. Broncos were known for being top heavy beasts, but Robert loved his truck all the same, enough to pay for two transmissions in her.
Before him stood two National Guardsmen, both in fatigues and both tall in stature. They immediately pointed their high power rifles directly at Robert’s vehicle... or were they pointed only at him? He couldn’t tell for sure. Either way, Robert felt the blood drain from his face.
Had the Army already found out about Robert’s grievous crime? Did those two redneck Soldiers enter his apartment and find Carl’s corpse? Did someone rat him out?
“Rob? Rob? What happened?” Robert faintly heard Paul’s voice pierce through the cell phone's tiny speaker and quickly raised the phone to his ear.
“Paul, I’ll call you back,” Robert said quickly and then he snapped the cell phone closed and threw it onto the passenger seat.
Robert looked back up to the Guardsmen blocking the road. Robert cursed himself again for not taking the back roads; Buck’s Dairy Road would have led him right onto old route 9 and then in another six miles or so he would have been at his parents’ farmhouse and avoided being stopped. Fuck.
Robert heard a loud, deafening cracking sound next to him which caused a high-pitched ringing in his ears. As he turned to his left he expected to see the driver side window smashed open. Instead, Robert was faced with another soldier staring intently at him; this one was a much older man but still wearing the fatigues like that of the others. He held up his baton and motioned for Robert to roll down the window. Robert did so, slowly, as the ringing in his ears subsided.
“Hello, son. You mind turning off your vehicle?” the older man asked Robert. This man had white hair with a gray mustache. There were plenty of cracks from old-age on his face.
“What seems to be…the problem?” Robert asked as he reluctantly turned his keys and the engine stopped. Robert hated to hear his engine die; it made him feel trapped.
“The problem? Son, have you turned on your television yet today?” the man asked with one eyebrow raised in surprise.
“I have in fact; I was on my way to my parent’s house…”
Robert was abruptly cut off by the man: “Step out of your vehicle son.”
Robert drew in a long wary breath. The men standing in front of his truck had lowered their rifles, but that didn’t make Robert feel any better. He nervously unhooked his seat belt and gave a quick glance toward his bat.
“You can forget about needing to grab your ole aluminum pal there. Leave it be,” the older man said as he opened Robert’s door for him.
Robert’s feet hit the hard and frozen pavement with a loud thump. In the cold air, Robert swore he heard the sound bounce off the surrounding mountains.
“You with me boy?” the old man asked, concerned.
“Huh? Oh yeah, of course,” Robert replied.
“Well, you don’t seem very ‘with it’ son,” he said pointedly to Robert.
Breathing in a long breath yet again, Robert started to say: “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…it’s just with everything the news…I’m not exactly sure what’s going on…I’d just like to get to my parents house. Make sure they’re okay,” Robert stammered.
“What’s your name boy?” the old man asked sharply.
“Robert Landry,” he said, hoping he wasn’t going to be asked for his address.
“Okay, Mr. Landry, I’m Major General Frost. As you can see here, the army is taking this situation very seriously.”
“Oh I know, I just…” Robert started.
“Please don’t interrupt me son,” Major Frost said evenly.
Robert just nodded his head.
“We’re asking everyone in Colton to please come to our shelter for the time being. Sign in, drink some coffee, and let us keep an eye on things out here until the situation is under control.”
“That’s fine, but I’d like to get my parents down here first,” Robert said quickly, hoping to seem compliant while at the same time wanting to leave.
Frost gave Robert a long, stern look while he scratched his mustache. He then leaned in closer to Robert.
“You know something we don’t boy?”
“What? No! I just need to make sure my folks are okay.”
Again, Major Frost studied Robert from head to toe and then shook his head. Robert was deathly certain Frost could smell the fear and untruthfulness coming off of him in cold freezing sweat.
Just then, a gold minivan pulled up next to the fire company. Both Robert and Major Frost turned to look as a family of four popped out of the vehicle. Robert was surprised to see it was his brother’s old friend Jan Goodman. He was bringing his family to the Colton Fire Company for safe haven. Jan noticed Robert right away too. It had been a long while since they had seen each other.
“Robert!” Jan called out. Motioning to his two daughters and wife to go head into the fire company before he made his way over.
“Hey Jan, how’s the family doing?” Robert asked Jan. Major Frost seemed content to watch Robert’s conversation with Jan Goodman, but he still had a determined look on his face where Robert was concerned. Major Frost was on him tight, like stank in a whore house. Robert was certain it would only be a matter of time before his secret came out.
“Oh, we’re good. There is a lot of confusion out there. I thought it better to head here and be with the community,” Jan said solemnly as he noticed that Major Frost and Robert were building some sort of awkward tension of their own.
“Hey, are your parents okay? Are they inside already?” Jan added, trying to ease things over.
Robert glanced at Major Frost and then turned back to Jan.
“As a matter of fact, I was just going to go check up on them, bring them both back here,” Robert said. Frost
had
to let him go now, Robert thought.
Major Frost quickly turned to face Jan Goodman.
“We’ll see to it that your family is safe until things are straightened out,” Major Frost said, suddenly turning into a bright beam of hope.
“Oh um, thank you Sir. Like I said, we are pretty damn confused about what’s going on. The kids are scared,” Jan explained.
“Why don’t you head on in and make sure your family gets settled, okay? There are plenty of snacks and drinks... even some games for the kids,” Major Frost suggested to Jan. Robert felt that Frost was trying to get rid of Jan so he could prod him further. He was positive the Major General knew he’d killed Carl and dreaded being alone with the hardened man.
Jan Goodman turned halfway toward the fire company, but sensing that his friend Robert might be in trouble, turned back around.
“Robert, your parents are still up on the farm?” Jan asked.
“Yeah, they are,” Robert replied.
“Listen, why don’t I take a ride with you? I want to help you make sure they’re safe,” Jan asked, surprising Robert. Major Frost did not look at all thrilled by Jan’s offer.
“Well now, shouldn’t you be with your family son?” Frost asked Jan. Again Robert felt like Major Frost was trying to work against him.
“Oh, I’m sure they’ll be safe here. I’ll just be a minute, I’m going to run in and tell them I’ll be right back,” Jan said and took off running into the fire company. The two armed guards at the front door patted him down like they had with everyone else that early morning before granting him entry.
Major Frost turned and looked into Robert’s eyes with an almost dark gaze. Robert swallowed hard as the man’s steely eyes seemed to penetrate his skull and read his thoughts.
“How many miles out to your parents?” Frost asked.
“Six,” Robert answered with his chin in his neck.
“Where?”
“Just off route 9.”
Frost was silent in thought while he stared hard at Robert.
“Is that the one with the dilapidated windmill?” Frost asked.
“That’d be the one,” Robert said, surprised.
“You’ve got half an hour. Don’t make me send my men out there to get you,” Frost warned.
“Um, okay,” Robert said, now feeling completely out of place.
Major Frost quickly grabbed Robert’s left forearm. Pain shot right up to Robert's shoulder; no thanks to the earlier bout with Carl.
“I know there is a shit-ton you ain’t telling me boy, so when you get back here we’re going to have a nice long conversation,” Frost said through clenched teeth and then released Robert’s arm.
Robert stepped back and bumped into his truck. Was Major Frost a complete lunatic or did he just have enough instinct to know Robert was a murderer? Or at least through Major Frost’s eyes, Robert would be a murderer. Robert thought it was best to be quiet and get on his way.
“Everything okay here guys?” Jan said, surprising them both again. Major Frost turned around again, with a big warm smile. A big, warm, and
fake
smile.
“All’s right by me. Just you boys be safe and if you aren’t back soon, Imma gonna come lookin' for ya,” Frost said, trying to sound friendly.
Jan Goodman walked over to the Bronco’s passenger door and let himself in. Robert opened his door and slowly sat down. He was trying not to look at Major Frost, who was indeed still on him like a fly on dog shit.
“See you boys soon. If you see any trouble, just do the right thing and get back here safe. Don’t try to be heroes; the graveyard's full of 'em,” Frost said as Robert slammed his door shut. Robert quickly turned the keys in the ignition.
“We’ll be back soon Sir,” Jan added.
As Robert coasted forward, he noticed Frost had moved back behind the truck. Robert could see him standing with his arms folded in the rear-view mirror. All Robert could think of was the T-2000 from
Terminator
.
‘What an asshole,
’ he thought. ‘
He knows, and he’s going to nail my ass as soon as I get back—in front of Mom and Dad. Great.’
Robert drove past the armed guards in the street, turned right onto 6
th
Ave, and headed toward Route 9. He was relieved once Major Frost and the fire company were out of sight. He looked over to see Jan Goodman holding Robert’s bat.
“What’d you bring this along for?” Jan asked with blissful ignorance.
2
As Robert Landry and Jan Goodman turned onto Route 9, Robert noticed that the snow was starting to fall more heavily. Jan was riding shotgun and he seemed to be fairly unaware of how serious the situation was. Robert wondered if maybe
he
was the lucky guy. To have had his brother Paul call him this morning and give him the news from a different angle, a decidedly more serious and graphic angle, did not make Robert feel like the lucky one, especially when it came down to having encountered the disease first hand by killing his diseased landlord Carl Riggins.
“Jan, what exactly do you know about what’s going on?” Robert probed.
