Tomorrow Land (21 page)

But Peyton knew what she’d seen and it was no hallucination. And the fact that her dad wouldn’t meet her eyes made her suspicious that he knew more than he’d tell. But try as she might, she couldn’t get him to say anything more on the subject. Eventually she dropped it. But still, she found herself every day looking in the shadows, searching. Just in case. It wasn’t something she could just forget about.

“Good, I guess, considering half the teachers are out with the Super Flu,” Peyton replied to her mother, plopping down in a chair. “They combined all our classes in the school auditorium with the one healthy guy left teaching. The sim-gym teacher! It’s ridiculous. I don’t know why they’re bothering. They should just shut down.”

“Well, you still need an education,” Ashley Anderson said, carefully placing each fork, spoon and knife in its place.

“What good is an education if we’re all going to keel over and die?”

Her mother dropped a spoon, and it clattered to the floor. She squatted to collect it, then walked over to the sink. After tossing the utensil in, she reached for her pills. Peyton sighed. She’d noticed her mother’s hands were shaking and wondered how many happy pills she’d already swallowed that afternoon. It had been a disconcerting development the first time she’d seen her mother take the medication, but gradually it had seemed more normal. A lot of people were running scared these days and overmedicating.

The Super Flu hadn’t stayed a hidden epidemic for long; it was too deadly and spread too quickly for any government intervention to help. By the end of the week it had been all over the news. People were urged to stay home and lock their doors. Close their windows. They’d been assured this would help keep the disease from spreading.

What people had done instead was either: a) pretend nothing strange was happening, b) dose like crazy on psych meds, or c) take the opportunity to stick it to the Man. News of looting was becoming more and more common. Shopkeepers—those who were still actually going to work—had taken to keeping illegal guns behind their counters. Last week three people had been shot.

Oh, and then there was the d) option: preparing for the worst. Some were stockpiling food and water and medicine in a desperate attempt to keep their families safe. Food prices had gone through the roof, as no one was driving the delivery trucks. Many stores that had once boasted overflowing shelves were now closing after running out of stock.

Peyton didn’t know which option was smartest, but she knew going to school and packing into a gym to be taught by the sim-sports coach was something of a joke. Of course, she supposed the government had to keep the children busy somehow. While adults were dying in droves, not a single person under the age of eighteen had yet been reported as sick.

“I need you to go to the store, Peyton,” her mother said, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. “Debbie told me they might be trucking in some fresh produce today.”

Peyton groaned. After a long day at school, the last thing she wanted was to stand in line for three hours, waiting for a delivery that probably would fail to show. But what else could she do? Fresh fruits and vegetables were the one thing you couldn’t stockpile. Her mother had taken to canning them and drying them whenever she could, and her father had brought home several batches for just that purpose. Peyton didn’t want to ask where he’d gotten them.

“Okay,” she agreed, grabbing her bag. “I’ll be back in ten hours.”

She headed outside. The neighborhood was quiet. No kids were playing outside. No cars were leaving their driveways. But she could feel the weight of eyes upon her, watching from behind drawn curtains. The people here were home. Waiting. Watching. Too scared to leave.

Peyton decided to swing by Avery’s house on the way to the market. Maybe she could convince her friend to come with her. Having someone along would cut down on the boredom of waiting in line at the very least. And Avery’s family likely needed some produce as well.

She walked up to her friend’s front door and rang the bell. No answer. Frowning, she rang a second time.

“It’s me!” she called loudly, just in case they were worried about thieves. “Peyton.”

The video monitoring system clicked on, and unseen eyes stared down at her. A moment later she heard a click and the door swung open. Avery’s mother stepped out, closing the door behind her.

“You shouldn’t have come here, Peyton,” she said.

Peyton cocked her head in confusion. “What? Why? I just wanted to see if Avery wanted to go get some produce with me. Supposedly there’s going to be a big delivery today.”

Avery’s mom shook her head. “Avery’s sick,” she said, her voice shaking. “We… we think she’s infected.”

Peyton stared. “But… I thought kids weren’t getting it,” she said, confused. “I thought it was just an adult thing.” Chills ran down her spine. It was now affecting kids, too? This was terrifying. Not that she hadn’t been scared before, but…

Avery’s mother shrugged wearily. “I don’t know. But she’s been running a high fever since she got home from school and… well, she’s coughing. It’s coming up blood. They… they say that’s the first sign.” The woman was clearly near a breakdown.

“Oh, God.” Peyton shook her head and blinked away the tears that were flooding her eyes. “Can I see her?”

The woman shook her head. “No, sweetie,” she said. “I don’t think that’s a good idea. You don’t want to get sick, too.”

In a daze, Peyton nodded. She knew the woman was right, even if avoiding the Super Flu at this point seemed next to impossible, no matter what her father claimed about her being immune.

“Well, tell her I said… hi,” she murmured, not sure how else to end things. “And… and that I hope she feels better soon.”

She could see the tears welling up in Avery’s mother’s eyes, and Peyton suddenly realized that Avery wasn’t
going
to feel better soon. She wasn’t going to feel better ever. She was going to die. Like the rest of the world was going to die.

“Take care, dear,” Avery’s mother said. “And be careful.”

Peyton trudged down the front stairs of the house, tears streaming down her cheeks. Before this, she hadn’t really known any of the victims. There was Mrs. McCormick, who’d begun it all, and her teachers had called in sick, but after that everyone who’d fallen ill was a stranger. All her friends at school were still fine. Her parents were fine—apart from her mother’s sudden attraction to opiates. But now, to be best friends with someone who had the disease… Suddenly everything was feeling a lot more real.

Avery. Fun, sunshiney Avery. Champion virtual cheerleader. All-around great person. Sick. Probably dying. Just like everyone else.

Her dad was right. The end of the world was coming. And not with a whimper, but a major, big-ass bang.

Chapter Twenty-four

Peyton woke up to rain splashing her face. The wind was howling and the trees above her were swaying dangerously, their high branches looking as if they could break off and crash down at any moment. She crawled out of her sleeping bag, her heart pounding as she quickly assessed the scene. It had been such a beautiful day; where had the storm come from?

Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a crack of thunder. Peyton couldn’t believe the kids were sleeping through this. She ran from tent to tent, shaking them awake.

“Wake up!” she cried. “We have to find some shelter.”

The kids groggily crawled out of their sleeping bags and out of their tents. Peyton looked for the horses, but they were nowhere to be seen. The thunder must have spooked them and caused them to break their tethers. They might not be far though; she could only see a few feet in front of her due to all the fog that had rolled in.

“Quick!” she told the children. “Grab what you can and head to the bathrooms.”

Rest area bathrooms had never been the nicest facilities to visit. After the apocalypse they were even worse. But they couldn’t stay out in this storm. As it was, the strong winds were practically toppling the little ones where they stood and the now abandoned tents were blowing away. And she had no weatherman to tell her how long the storm would last or how bad it would get. For all she knew this was a Category 5 hurricane and they were only on its outer edges.

They grabbed what they could, all the items drenched of course, and headed into the small rest-stop bathroom, located in the center of the parking lot. The place smelled to high heaven and the toilets were full of raw sewage bubbled up from burst pipes. But it was mostly dry, with only a few leaks in the ceiling. And the cement walls felt solid, keeping out the wind. She instructed the kids to lay out their bags and bedding to try to dry it out. They all looked like half-drowned rats. She did a quick count.

“Where’s Chase?” Red asked, frowning. “Is he still out there?”

Peyton started. In her haste to get everyone inside, she’d forgotten about their night watchman. Why hadn’t he woke them up at the first signs of the storm? They would have had an opportunity to find better shelter, before things got bad. And half of their supplies wouldn’t be ruined.

She opened the bathroom door and a burst of wind practically knocked her backward. Using her lenses, she scanned the campsite, heart in her throat. Had something happened to him? Had he run into a monster before the storm even hit?

But then she caught his signal at the outskirts of camp. He was still warm, but not moving. She swallowed hard. Was he okay? Had he been hit by a fallen branch and knocked unconscious? She couldn’t think of any other reason he’d be able to sleep through this mess.

As if on cue, the thunder boomed again. But Chase’s silhouette didn’t move. Peyton turned to the other children, who stared back at her with wet, worried faces. “I see him out there,” she told them. “I’m going to go and get him and bring him back. No one move until I return. I’m serious.”

The children nodded, gripping each other’s hands. Peyton sucked in a breath and pushed her way outside. The wind had picked up in the short time since she’d woken and she was in a big fight to get to Chase. But she couldn’t leave him out there.

Lightning slashed through the sky, hitting a tree, high above her. A large branch came crashing down, just inches from where she’d stood only a moment before. Had she not taken that last step, she would have been a goner. And Chase was a sitting duck.

She picked up her pace, trying to ignore the wind as she dashed to the spot where he lay. When she reached him, she gasped, thinking at first he was dead. His face was white as a ghost and he wasn’t moving at all. But then she saw his eyebrow twitch. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive.

Dropping to her knees, she shook him with all her might, trying to wake him up. At first he refused to stir. Then he managed to open one eye, then the other. He looked at her, confused. Dazed. Uncomprehending his situation. What was wrong with him? Why was he so out of it? Hell, he was acting like her mom used to when she—

It was then that Peyton saw the pill bottle in his hands. The same one he’d taken pills from the night she’d cut his face. She pried it from his fingers, scanning the label. Oh God.

“Peyton?” he asked, his voice sounding like it was underwater. “What’s going on?”

She bit back her anger, her fury at how irresponsible he’d been. They had depended on him and he’d let them down. But there would be time for accusations later. Right now she needed to get him to safety.

“Can you walk?” she asked. Sometimes her mother had gotten so messed up her legs would refuse to work for several hours.

“Of course I can,” he replied, starting to regain his wits.

“Then you’d better get over to the rest-stop bathroom,” she told him, not able to hide the bitterness in her voice. “It’s not safe out here.”

He nodded, looking around as if discovering his surroundings for the first time. And maybe he was. After all, Peyton knew that particular prescription well. It was one of her mother’s. And she knew what it could do when you found yourself in its grip.

“Don’t forget your little pills,” she muttered as he scrambled to his feet. She could see his face turn red as he looked down, realizing he’d been busted. She wondered for a moment if he would leave them behind in an effort to try to prove they were no big deal. But they were a big deal and soon he was reaching down to grab them as a bolt of lightning hit the ground only a few feet from where they stood.

“Run!” she cried.

The two of them dashed for the bathroom, running as hard as they could, this time with the wind at their backs. They made it back, pulling open the door and bursting inside. The other children were huddled together, looking up at their reappearance with relieved eyes. They jumped up and ran around Chase, hugging him and cheering, thankful their fearless leader was alive.

Peyton hung back, so furious she could barely speak. She couldn’t believe she’d somehow found another addict. The very person who was supposed to be her rock, the one who promised to get her to Disney World even if he had to carry her on his back, was nothing more than a pill-popping junkie who had almost gotten them killed. What if the thunder hadn’t woken her? What if a zombie had wandered into camp while they slept? It was bad enough that most of their camping supplies were most likely ruined. But someone could have been killed because of Chase’s incompetence.

She remembered how he’d argued with her about the watch earlier that night. She’d given in, wanting him to know that she trusted him. But she shouldn’t have trusted him. She’d never trust him again.

Chase left the children and walked over to her, a guilty look on his face. “I guess I screwed up,” he said softly, so the others couldn’t hear. “I guess I was more tired than I thought.”

She scowled. He wasn’t even going to admit the truth? But then, neither had her mother.

“Chase,” she said slowly. “Do you have a drug problem?”

His face turned purple. “What? No. How could you ask me that?”

He sounded so much like her mother it was getting scary. “Because of the pills,” she replied, keeping her voice even. “Because you took enough painkillers to sleep through a flecking hurricane.”