The People Next Door (34 page)

Kyle lost track of how long he had been standing outside her window when he heard the latch open and the window began to slide,
opening for him. He could not see her inside the black rectangle. She did not speak. He had nothing left to lose
.

He climbed through, his feet sinking onto a soft surface. Her bed. He crouched low, one hand steady against the window sill
.

‘June?’

A form sat up in the dark and a warm hand took hold, pulling him down. He fell on top of her, the heat coming off her in waves
as she pushed the bedding back and his cold body pressed against her warm skin. The softness of her thighs and breasts, the
heat of her breath against his ear. She was shaking, writhing against him
.

‘Hurry,’ she whispered. ‘Before they come back to check on me.’

‘Are you sure this is what you want?’

‘Do you promise to wait for me? Will you take care of me after?’

‘Yes.’

‘No matter what comes next? You won’t leave me alone?’

‘Never. I promise.’

‘Do you love me?’

‘I loved you the first time I saw you.’

‘Make me feel good first, Kyle. Make me feel good and do it quickly.’

His kissed her face, her nose, felt her wet tongue in his mouth, the plump pressure of her lips. She pulled his shirt over
his head and he felt his bones against her softness. He traced his fingers around her smooth edges, his touch delicate. She
breathed harder, pulled his hair, pushed him down. He licked her neck, her chest, pulled one nipple in his teeth. June moaned
and pushed her hips up. The rough surface of her pubic hair was warm against his hip, her leg wrapped around him and squeezing.
He moved lower, tasting her skin, the warm salt taste and smooth soft hairs around her navel, taking her hips in both his
hands. He pushed his tongue into her, tasting, tasting, filling with her heat and when she began to cry and tighten against
his mouth he turned and bit into the soft inside of her thigh, tearing her open in a clean, deep pull and held to her while
her blood surged into his mouth. He sucked and swallowed, sucked and swallowed
.

June screamed and thrashed and he reached up and clamped a hand over her mouth. She fought free and he let go of her leg to
keep her body still. He held her down and ate more of her, taking from the neck and breast and rolling her in the sheets,
sinking his teeth into her hind flanks, soaking the bed and drinking from her until they were sliding wetly as fish. She shuddered
in his arms and fought him. He held on, amazed at the force of her resistance, her body clinging to the life her mind had
forsaken. He kissed her again, fighting with her to get past it, until
she went still. He rose above her, her blood dripping from his lips onto her chest. He looked into her wide eyes, the glass
of them shiny in the dark. She seemed to be glaring at him for the longest time, but finally the lids lowered and she wilted
beneath him
.

I’ve killed her. I’ve killed my flower girl
.

Kyle pressed his face between her breasts until he could no longer feel the heartbeat and they were at peace together. He
sobbed. He buried his mouth in her bedding and sobbed for what he had done. He felt the warm blood soaking under his mouth.
He turned and began to clean her then, lapping at her wounds and bathing her, drawing his mouth along her calves and thighs,
around her hips and under her arms, tasting every part of her and securing her warmth in his memory, savoring that which he
would never have again, cleaning and loving her while he waited for her to wake up
.

Wake up wake up wake up …!

Kyle shook violently on the floor and stared up at the blinds, not remembering where he was. Then he saw his sister’s bed
and remembered. He wiped tears from the corners of his eyes. The sky outside B’s window was still black. He hadn’t gone yet.
June was still alive …

But she wasn’t warm. She was cold, like him. She wasn’t a real girl, he wasn’t a real boy. He understood her attraction to
him now. It wasn’t because of who he was. It was because of
what
he was. She was using him for some purpose. Recruiting him, following her father’s orders. His whole family was being adopted
into some cause, one that Kyle did not understand and cared nothing about.

Except, maybe there was more to it than this. Maybe she did care about him. She had tried to warn him, hadn’t she? Talked
about running away? She said they weren’t her real parents, they were monsters. She wasn’t comfortable in her new life, in
this condition they had in common. Maybe there was still time to save her, save her from them. Maybe they could be together,
in their own way. If she loved him the way he loved her, she would leave with him. But it had to be soon, tonight.

His parents had not come out yet. He’d heard them fighting a while ago, but now they were quiet. In there together, determining
the fate of the family. He couldn’t wait for them to say no, to refuse, to pack the car and flee. If he waited until his parents
came to the wrong decision, he wouldn’t have a choice. He would never see her again.

Kyle stood and waited at the door, to see if Briela would stir or open her eyes. As softly as his feet would carry him, he
went down the hall, into the living room and kitchen area. He let himself out the back door, over the growing summer grass,
toward the only thing that mattered in his cold world.

I have to be with her. We have to be together, otherwise there is no point to living this way, none at all
.

When they came in to check on Briela, Kyle was gone. He wasn’t in his room either.

‘Where did he go?’ Amy said.

Mick rubbed his face. ‘Where do you think? You saw the look in his eyes. He loves her.’

‘But what’s he going to do with her?’

‘Whatever they want him to do,’ Mick said. ‘I have to go get him. Now.’ He turned to leave but Amy stopped him.

Briela was stirring before them, moaning as she opened her eyes.

‘Hey, baby,’ Amy said. ‘We’re here. Everything’s all right. The monsters can’t hurt you any more.’

Briela’s eyes widened. Her mouth opened as if she were attempting to scream and her body began to shiver.

‘Briela? What’s wrong?’ Amy said. ‘Mick? Do something.’

They kneeled at her bedside, hands on her chest and legs, smoothing her hair.

‘Briela,’ Mick said. ‘Talk to me. I’m here. What is it, honey?’

Slowly she stopped shivering and her mouth began to close. Her eyes focused on them.

‘Is it your arm?’ Amy said.

‘She saw something,’ Mick said. ‘What is it, honey? Is it Kyle?’

Briela shook her head, no. She looked terrified.

‘No matter what it is, you have to tell us,’ Amy said.

‘He’s lying,’ Briela said softly. ‘He’s hiding it.’

‘Who?’ Amy said. ‘Who’s she talking about?’

Mick sat back. ‘Render. Is it Vince? Vince is lying?’

Briela nodded once.

‘About what? What’s he hiding?’ Amy asked her.

Briela began to cry. ‘The future. We can’t stay.’

Mick got to his feet. ‘I’m going over. Stay here with her.’

‘You can’t go alone,’ Amy said.

‘I’m not putting both of you at risk too.’

Briela sat up. ‘You need us. There’s gonna be too many of them.’

Kyle stood in the Renders’ backyard, looking at his Egg, reading June’s text from the other night.

come out and see for yourself. keep me company. house behind yours. my room = corner window 1st floor.

But the house had four corners, so which one was it? Probably not at the front of the house, which left two possible corners
in the back. He remembered seeing a den or some kind of study and billiard room on the northwest corner during his tour yesterday
before the barbecue. That left the southwest corner. He walked around the back, sticking close to the house. All the lights
were off. He could not see inside any of the windows. He passed the row of tall convertible windows that opened onto the veranda
and turned the corner.

There was a set of three smaller windows. One large at the center of the frame with a smaller window on either side. He pressed
his cheek to the frame and tried to make out the room behind the glass. He couldn’t see
anything, it was too dark inside. He was about to try removing one of the screens when he remembered the Egg. Maybe she had
her phone with her. It was worth a try. He typed:

Are you there? I came back for you. I’m outside your window. Need to see you. I’m sorry and I love you. Please let me in.
Kyle.

Minutes later the Egg vibrated in his pocket. He removed the device and looked down at the screen.

parents trying to kill them all. Adolph and i are trapped in the3 basement, plese help og god kyle make them stop i don’t
want to be a part of it

Mick led them to the guest house, upstairs, to the boxes he had taken from storage yesterday afternoon.

He donned the backpack with the one-gallon propane tank connected to ten feet of hosing and the wand of the weed dragon torch.
He opened the tank’s valve, thumbed the dial shut on the handle, and slipped the sparker into his left front pocket. He unstrapped
the leather roll of Ittosai-Kotetsu chef knives, the blades ranging from four to nine inches. He removed the longest of the
set and used his belt as a scabbard. He handed the shortest, a paring knife with a four-inch blade, to Briela.

‘Keep the tip pointed away from you at all times,’ he told her. ‘Hold it at your side and if anyone gets too close to you,
you poke them with it. Understand?’

Briela nodded.

Mick loaded his father’s Browning 12 gauge with three shells and handed it to Amy.

‘I don’t know what to do with this,’ she said.

‘Don’t bother unless we get close. Then you brace it against your shoulder, aim it, and pull the trigger.’

Amy frowned as he set the safety for her. ‘Maybe it won’t come to that,’ he said.

‘What are we doing, Mick?’ she said.

‘Getting our son back.’

‘And then what? Are you going to kill their entire family?’

‘That depends on what he wants, and whether or not we can trust them.’

They went over the fence behind the pool, Mick boosting Amy, Amy pulling him up, the two of them swinging Briela between them
in a chain that landed them in the grass as softly as cats. The backyard was empty. The tall windows of the veranda were closed
and would be impenetrable.

They backed in close to the house and filed around to the driveway. Amy and Briela flanked to either side as Mick prepared
to take the front door at a run, but the front door was already open.

Mick put a hand up to warn them to stay behind him as he crept up to the door. The foyer was empty, none of the lights were
on. He waved Amy and Briela forward and they slipped inside and moved left.

‘You and I will go in and try to find him,’ he told Amy. ‘B, you stay here and watch the door. If anyone comes, cars or people
on foot, you scream for us and go out the back and run home. All the way home, okay, honey?’

Briela nodded, stepping behind the curtain at the front window, the short knife held against her right hip.

Mick and Amy waded into the house, splitting around the stairway, Mick breaking right, into the living rooms;
Amy branching left into the laundry, running at a crouch through pantry and dining room until they met up again in kitchen.
The front rooms were empty.

‘They could be in the basement,’ Mick said, glancing at the spiral stairway at the end of the great room. ‘He had equipment
down there. He’s building something.’

‘Or upstairs,’ Amy said, holding the shotgun across her chest.

‘I don’t think he’s hiding. Let’s start downstairs and work our way up.’

They were halfway to the stairway when Mick caught a movement to his left. He stopped, putting his right hand up, the dragon’s
wand at his left.

‘What?’ Amy whispered.

‘Shadows,’ Mick said. ‘In there.’

They rounded the corner to the sealed interior of the veranda. The vast room was dark until they reached the arched entrance.
A humming noise filled the first floor, the retractable windows opening, letting the warm summer night in.

Then the lights came on and they saw all the people gathered to greet them.

Briela was standing between the front window and its thick velvet curtain when she heard the humming sound. She had been watching
the driveway and front grounds but now turned toward the source of the humming on the other side of the first floor. The humming
lasted until she had counted to eight and then the house was silent. She could feel it about to happen, the moment before
everything went out of control, and she braced herself, holding perfectly still. The air on the other side of the curtain
stirred and she glanced down.

In front of the black toes of her boots were a pair of dirty white feet.

Briela opened her mouth to scream, but the curtain was yanked aside and a cold hand fell over her mouth before she could make
a sound. A loop of black rope fell around her neck and cinched tight. She was swept up, off her feet and rising, until she
was staring into the grinning red mouth and lifeless gray eyes of Ingrid Gustafson.

Vince Render was standing at the center of the court, his wife Cassandra at his left, the two of them surrounded by the others.
In his left hand he held a large silver pistol with an infrared sight, the light skidding across the floor and then disappearing
for a moment before finding its home between Mick’s eyes.

Kyle and June were standing to his right, their mouths sealed with tape, their wrists bound with plastic zip-ties. Kyle looked
ashamed and frightened. June was flushed and crying. Beside her, guarding them, was little Adolph. He appeared to be feeling
proud of himself, loyal to his father, ready to pounce.

The others here, all forty or fifty of them, shared the death complexions of gray-white and some of the wounds and slashes
were still visible but healing, even now healing. They had combed their hair and done their best to make themselves presentable
to one another. They were here, upright, waiting. They were the Nash’s people, regarding Mick and Amy and Briela with cold
black eyes and expectant smiles.

Roger and Bonnie were near the front, holding hands
still crusted with dried blood from feedings they had pursued on their own. Behind them Sergeant Terrance Fielding, who held
a glass of iced tea he could not taste. Myra Blaylock, her chest flat and sexless, her hair long and straight. Amy’s students,
Eric and Jason, as well as three others she recognized from school, were huddled together at the back, near the fluttering
curtains. There were others from the restaurant Mick did not remember infecting, or who might have been taken by Render. Jamie
and Brett, his chef Carlos and a Hispanic woman who must have been Carlos’s wife. Kyle’s friends, Ben and Will and the Persian
boy, Shaheen, who wore no shirt, his once smoke-dark skin now a deep, almost lavender gray. Melanie Smith, who stood hunched
over a gaping absence of flesh at her middle, and the entire Larson family, Rita and her daughter Tami, the husband Don. The
three thugs from the parking lot in new warm-ups of black, the blond boy with a scalp mending itself in puzzle pieces. A heavy-set
security guard with the familiar neck wounds. Eugene and Virginia Sapphire, no longer looking old and feeble but restored,
the wrinkled planes of their faces smoothed and pale. Dennis Wis neski, scowling as usual, his eyes fogged with the cataracts
that marked his transition back toward the human camouflage. And more, others Mick did not recognize, the ones the Renders
had taken since coming to town, or who had become victims of the other Nash victims. Somehow they had been drawn here tonight,
organized by Vince, all of them standing in near-perfect stillness, not speaking, but waiting for someone to tell them what
to do.

‘I’m glad you came back before I was forced to come for you,’ Vince Render said, watching Mick. ‘Things have changed.’

‘Kyle!’ Amy cried, surging forward, but Mick took her arm and held her back.

‘Why did you take so many?’ Mick said.

‘I don’t leave witnesses, Mick. I convert them. These aren’t just your neighbors now. They’re family. And that has always
been the meaning behind the larger enterprise. Family. Cass and I were never able to bear our own children, but thanks to
the change, we were able to rescue June from a life of small-town drudgery and Adolph from a foster family who did not deserve
to live. Our family is growing, expanding every day.’

‘Touching,’ Mick said. ‘But my son is not your family. Untie him now.’

Cassandra smiled at Amy. ‘What do you expect, Amy? He’s in love. He chose us.’

‘Romeo and Juliet got it into their heads to run away,’ Render said. ‘But they’ll come around. This is not a world where our
kind can hope to survive on their own. You know this, Mick. Why do you keep pretending it can be any other way?’

Mick hooked his finger through the ring at the end of the sparker, but kept it in his pocket. ‘What do you want, Vince? What
is the point of all this?’

‘The Percys lost control,’ Render said. ‘But not before creating their own survivors. I told you the other four families have
come on board. They are doing their part, and doing it well. It’s moving around the country now.
It’s gone exponential. Nothing can control it. The only course now is to be a part of it, to work together, to hold on until
the tide turns.’

‘You want to infect everybody,’ Amy said. ‘You want to change everything. Are you insane?’

‘Vince knows what he’s doing, Amy,’ Cass said. ‘He’s building another company and this time it will be an empire.’

‘I found other cases,’ Vince said. ‘I found evidence of outbreaks in Nigeria, Borneo, the Congo, and one very promising, truly
isolated case in Peru, but none of them were as functional as the ones carrying the Vieques strain. Former members of my engineering
team have run the algorithms. Cass and I and a small handful of interested parties … some in the government, others you might
call investors with substantially deep pockets and a healthy interest in their own immortality … we’ve run the projections.
Once we came to grips with what was coming, once we understood which side would come out on top, well, we admitted this was
no longer an infection. It’s become a quantum leap in evolution.’

Amy was unable to take her eyes off her son, who, she understood now, was being held hostage by a madman. And what about her
daughter? Was Briela still hiding?

Vince read something in the change in her expression. He smiled, said, ‘Ingrid? Did you find her?’

Behind the crowd, moving in from the terrace, was Ingrid. Her hair was a red crusted mess, her eyes were dull black, and her
neck was wrapped in thick layers of gauze. Only a month into summer and she seemed
almost bored of dragging and half-carrying Briela, who had been hog-tied.

Amy lurched forward again, and Mick pulled her back again. ‘Amy, no.’

‘That’s right, Mick,’ Vince said. ‘It’s important to keep our heads. We have business to conclude.’

‘Let her go!’ Amy cried. ‘You don’t need us!’

Behind Render, Eric and Jason produced muffled sounds of amusement.

Cassandra took Briela by the arm and yanked her away from Ingrid. The sitter held on and stumbled a few steps before Cassandra
backhanded her into place.

Mick opened the dial-valve on the weed dragon’s wand, removed the sparker, and squeezed the tongs before the cylindrical nozzle.
A ten-inch flame the width of a beer can wavered faint orange and blue as Mick raised the torch overhead.

All forty or so of the infected people present stared up at the torch with numb curiosity.

‘Let my children go,’ Mick said, nudging Amy in the back with his elbow. ‘Let your daughter choose if she wants to be a part
of this. You have thirty seconds before I burn us all out.’

Render laughed. ‘I’ve seen one of those before, Mick. It’s a garden tool, not a flame thrower.’

‘Are you sure about that?’ Mick said.

‘Listen to me,’ Render said, planting the laser sight between Mick’s eyes. ‘I’m trying to help you. I am trying to be your
friend. I need your help and I want you to be on the right side of the change that is coming. This thing
is strongest at the source, and we – the five surviving families, including yours – are the source. The rest of them, the
third and fourth generations, they’re dumbing down from the mutations. They’re not much more than animals. They’re not interested
in moderation and continuing civilian life. It’s going to get ugly out there. There are two sides now, but there won’t be
for long. Do you want to live like a king or die like a mutant? Those are the only two choices.’

Mick blinked as the red light flicked over his eyes.

‘I never wanted to be a king,’ he said, raising the torch higher, opening the valve all the way, the flame burning with the
sound of a tiny jet engine now. Amy was fixed on Cassandra while Briela’s eyes stared back them, pleading. ‘I just wanted
a better life for my family.’

‘What a waste of my time,’ Render said, thumbing the hammer.

‘Now,’ Mick said.

Three things then happened simultaneously: Amy leveled the shotgun at Cassandra, June dodged sideways and kicked back
hard
, knocking her father off balance, and Mick withdrew the chef’s knife from his belt.

Render’s aim faltered and a shot rang out overhead, echoing off the high ceilings. Mick dropped the torch, raised the blade
and threw. The knife tumbled through the air and found a soft landing in Render’s stomach. Cassandra panicked at the sight
of her husband with a blade in his belly and Briela slipped free as she reached for him. Kyle turned, took his sister by the
waist with both tied hands, and dragged her out of the melee. June
ducked and ran after Kyle, first toward Mick, then veering into the shifting mass of bodies.

As soon as Briela was out of the way, Amy squeezed the trigger and blew Cassandra’s midsection open, peppering half a dozen
others standing close to her.

Mick began walking at Render.

Render raised the gun and fired into Mick’s left shoulder.

Mick advanced, bending to scoop up the weed dragon’s hose, swinging it around like a whip, the flame passing before a blur
of pale faces that recoiled and snarled.

Render fired two more shots, taking Mick in the shoulder and side of the neck.

Mick flinched and continued walking. Behind him, Adolph leaped on Amy’s back, knocking her down and sending the shotgun twirling
across the slate floor.

Cassandra fell and three of the infected fell on her, clawing into her buckshot stomach. She howled and thrashed as two others
took her by the arms and began to drag her out onto the patio.

Render staggered as he fired again and the fourth bullet tore into Mick’s thigh.

Mick continued walking. ‘Get the girls out!’ he said to Kyle.

Kyle found the paring knife in Briela’s back pocket, cut the rope at her feet, and the two of them crawled from under the
swarm of trampling legs. June stopped to subdue Adolph, tearing him away from Amy.

The boy fought her until June screamed, ‘They’re not
your parents! Your parents are dead!’ Adolph screamed again but allowed June to lead him away. They followed Kyle and Briela
to the front door, out into the yard.

Render reset his stance and fired into Mick’s face, blowing six teeth and a good portion of his cheek into a powdery wet mist.

Mick shook his head once, spitting blood, and continued walking.

Render’s hand was shaking as he squeezed off shot number six.

Mick did not feel the passage of hot steel through his splintering ribs.

Render was clutching his stomach and preparing to let off the seventh shot when Mick caught the wrist holding the gun with
his left hand and with his right removed the nine-inch Ittosai from Render’s stomach and drew it sideways through the throat.
Moving in the fountain, Mick released the arm and took a fistful of Render’s hair, snapping the neck back as he spun, pulling
the blade around in a full circle, severing the spinal cord. He broke Render’s back with his knee driving the body to the
floor. With a fist of Render’s blond hair in his left hand, Mick sawed in a circle, pulling the neck with all his strength
until the vertebrae snapped and the last of the flesh came free. He stood and raised the head for the others to see. The twenty
or more who had not gone after Cassandra stopped in their tracks and regarded Mick with blank confusion.

A howl of fury came from the darker patio area, and Cassandra followed. She came running in pursued by the
others intent upon devouring her. One of her arms had been torn from the socket, her clothes and large chunks of her hair
were torn, and one of her eyes was a bleeding socket.

Mick charged at her holding Vince Render’s head like a warning light. When they were less than fifteen feet apart, he stopped,
kicked the shotgun back, and threw the head at the shrieking widow. He dropped to the floor and rolled away.

Amy clawed her way forward, took up the shotgun, and set the stock against her shoulder. Cassandra ran full speed into Amy
and was falling on her when the barrel flashed, obliterating Cassandra Render from the jaw up. The body swayed and fell back,
following what was left of her brains to the floor.

The others began to surge forward in bloodlust, but halted when Mick pulled the hose around his waist and caught the weed
dragon’s nozzle in his right hand. He waved the flame at them, drawing it back and forth as he backed away.

Amy came forward to stand beside him, the shotgun raised with one shell left.

The crowd of more than thirty faces stared back at them, waiting.

Amy and Mick glanced at each other one last time. In their eyes was a reflection of the promises they had made in bed only
hours ago, and of the bond that had survived for fifteen years. Mick nodded and Amy covered him, shifting the barrel from
one to another as he walked calmly to the wooden door frame and set fire to the house.

The others watched the flames catch hold and enlarge, until a serpent of orange crawled up the wall and expanded across the
ceiling, splitting, then feeding on plaster and the oxygen blowing in from the yard on a sweet summer breeze.

When the house became too hot to inhabit any longer, they turned away and one by one shuffled off into the darkness, some
crawling over the fence to disappear into the fields of open space, others finding the roads that would lead them to another
town, into the trucks and cars and homes of welcoming strangers, making friends of neighbors, turning enemies into lovers,
uniting lost souls in new congregations, forging new connections with expanding populations, hoards of citizens rejoicing
in their newfound gifts, until what once was a secret among the living had become a routine way of life among the dead.