After: Dying Light (AFTER post-apocalyptic series, Book 6) Page 18

  “Well?” Franklin said, glancing from DeVontay to Stephen and finally to Rachel. “Spin the wheel one more time?”

  DeVontay looked away from Rachel, a single tear sliding from his good eye, and nodded. “We have to do it for the kids.”

  Marina sobbed, and Stephen went to her and put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay,” the boy said. “Your dad knows where our camp is. He can find it again, and we’ll be there waiting for him.”

  Franklin shook his head in admiration at the five-star lie. That boy would have a future in politics, if the human race ever got back to business as usual.

  “Time’s a-wastin’,” Franklin said. “Let’s get this gypsy caravan on the road.”

  DeVontay squeezed Sierra’s hand in gratitude, but she said, “Don’t get all sentimental. I’m doing this because I want the good guys to win.”

  “Thank you,” DeVontay said. “We’ll stay good for you.” He looked at Rachel, whose face remained impassive, and added, “For all of us.”

  As they gathered in the doorway of the parlor, Franklin stood at attention and gave Sierra a salute. He wasn’t even sure she could see it, because although the viewing room was suffused with radiant light, the parlor was already dark. Stephen’s eyes were shiny with tears, and Marina wrapped her arms around her chest as if desperately trying to hold herself together.

  Franklin opened the door, poking the barrel of his weapon into the night air.

  “Looks clear,” DeVontay said from behind him. He ushered the two children outside and was about to close the door behind him when Rachel stepped into the parlor, her eyes lighting the way.

  “We’re going with you,” she and Kokona said in unison.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

  They moved north out of instinct, heading to higher ground, guided by a wedge of waxing moonlight and the Big Dipper, soon finding Highway 321 and making decent time on its open, smooth surface.

  They stopped to rest every hour or so, although they had no way to tell time. The night seemed like it would never end to Stephen, but that wasn’t really so bad, because at least he wasn’t alone.

  Rachel and Kokona’s eyes served as flashlights, and that made the travel less dangerous, but Stephen couldn’t shake the feeling that things were moving in the woods and yards and houses around them. They didn’t spot any Zapheads, but Kokona could be maneuvering them just out of sight, waiting for the right time to—

  To what? If she wanted us dead, we never would’ve made it out of Newton.

  Besides, he had to act brave for Marina’s sake. He wished he had a gun, because that would help him look cool. He’d look for one when the sun rose, maybe scavenge in a few houses and come up with some clean clothes and a decent pair of shoes for her, too, and show her how useful he was. Until then, the best he could do was hold her hand and try not to walk too fast.

  They spoke little, usually either Franklin or DeVontay whispering instructions, but a couple of hours into their journey, Kokona said, right out of the blue, “I see what you mean, Rachel.”

  DeVontay led the way, with Franklin right behind Rachel and Kokona. Stephen suspected the old man was ready to shoot them at the first sign of betrayal, but they all knew the reality was the same as it had been in the funeral home: Kokona could inform the Zapheads where they were, but without Kokona’s protection, they wouldn’t have a chance anyway.

  The rise in elevation led them into cooler air and reminded them all that winter wasn’t in a big hurry to leave the North Carolina foothills. At one point, they emerged from an incline into a gentle curve with an overlook. Below them they could see the hospital glowing like a tiny red box. The flames had spread to the center of town, and Stephen thought of all the dead people who were getting cremated. He was glad the wind was blowing the other way.

  “How are you feeling?” DeVontay asked Rachel, and Stephen expected her to answer something weird and cranky, like she had been ever since she died and became a total Zap.

  Instead, she said, “Better.”

  Kokona looked out over the dying town and said, “It looks different from up here.”

  “We’ve probably made ten miles,” Franklin said. “I recognize a few of these landmarks.”

  Stephen took off his jacket and gave it to Marina, even though he was shivering. She looked at him with big, grateful eyes, as cute as a lost puppy in the moonlight.

  She’s going to kill you if she ever finds out you lied to her about her dad.

  Stephen pushed the thought away. He was saving her life and that was all there was to it. He didn’t expect a medal, and he didn’t think God would hold the lie against him. The end of the world called for new rules all the way around.

  They came to a gas station with a ring of vehicles parked around the pumps. Stephen didn’t recognize it, although surely they had passed it on their initial trip up the mountain a month ago. While Franklin stood watch, DeVontay and Stephen broke into the station and scrounged up some pop-top cans of beans, corn, and sardines, as well as some Slim Jims and stale candy bars. After shoving the food into a plastic bag and giving it to the others, they returned to the store and gathered a variety of beverages requested by the group.

  They sat on the hoods of the vehicles, passing the food around. Franklin drank a warm beer that he claimed “tasted like goat pee,” but he finished it nonetheless. Stephen and Marina indulged in root beers, while DeVontay drank a Coke and one of those little bottles of 24-hour energy juice and then declared he was ready to walk a hundred miles.

  Rachel refused to eat, but Kokona drank from a vacuum-sealed box of milk that Rachel carefully administered to her. When Kokona was done, Rachel and DeVontay returned to the building and found some disposable diapers, using the luxury of her mutant eyes to shop for other useful items as well. When they came back, Rachel laid Kokona on the hood of a truck and changed her diaper, wiping carefully.

  Stephen turned away from the gross scene, afraid Kokona’s brains were going to slide out every time she lay down or wriggled, but Marina went over and helped, and Kokona told them how Marina and her family helped take care of the babies at the school. Somehow, Kokona made it sound like a generous, sweet gesture by people who probably should’ve been trying to kill them instead.

  Stephen couldn’t help wondering something that was probably on everybody’s mind but were afraid to say: Why did Rachel want to come with us? Was it Kokona’s idea? What exactly is the deal here?

  Sometime in the middle of the night, a frilly edge of clouds drifted from the west. The front was silvery in the moonlight but behind it were black masses like lumps of rotten mashed potatoes. The wind picked up, rattling the bare trees so that their branches clacked together like dry bones.

  “Looks like a storm’s coming, and at this temperature, that means snow,” Franklin said. “We might have to hunker down for the rest of the night.”

  “Shouldn’t we get as far away from Newton as we can?” DeVontay asked.

  “We’ve got maybe an hour until it hits. Is everybody okay to keep going for that long?”

  Stephen was tired but no way was he going to admit it. And Marina had slowed down a whole lot over the last mile, but she just kept quiet and waited for what everyone else decided. Rachel and Kokona simultaneously said, “We’re mutants. We never sleep.”

  “All right,” DeVontay said. “We’ll put in a couple more miles and then start looking for a house.”

  The encroaching cloud cover blocked much of the moonlight, and it became harder to see. If not for the glow cast by Rachel’s and Kokona’s eyes, they would’ve had to stop right there and make the best of it. As it was, they managed to grow even more exhausted before the first flurries of snow corkscrewed silently down around them.

  Stephen put out his tongue to catch one, but an updraft spun it away, and he danced under it, snapping his jaws at the tiny silver speck. Marina giggled, which made Stephen feel good. She’d forgotten about her parents for a moment. Soon she was dancing along with him, bat
ting at the snowflakes and sending them scurrying like insects.

  “Hey,” Franklin said. “This place looks familiar. This is where me and Jorge ended up after we ditched Shipley’s unit and escaped the Zappers.”

  “We’re New People,” Rachel gently reminded him.

  “Oh, damn. Sorry, Rachel.”

  “I don’t mind too much,” Kokona said. “It’s kind of catchy. You could probably call me ‘Jellyhead’ or something because I’ve got all this jiggly stuff up there sloshing around.”

  Stephen almost laughed, but that was just a little too weird. Zapheads shouldn’t have a sense of humor, especially about their creepy wounds.

  “Whatever,” Franklin said. “There’s a little neighborhood of farmhouses along this gravel road just ahead. Off the path, but it gives us another route up the mountains instead of being out here on the open highway.”

  Stephen didn’t think that mattered, since the Zapheads would find them if Kokona wanted them to, but everyone would feel safer if they weren’t so exposed. The snow was now so thick that it limited visibility, and their black footprints trailed behind them on the asphalt.

  The gravel road was rutted and lined with leaning fence posts, and the scrubby pastures beyond seemed devoid of livestock. Stephen pointed out a low, swift shadow to Marina, and she looked up just in time to see a twitch of the deer’s tail as the animal bounded away, soon followed by two gangly-legged fawns. They passed a couple of barns and a blown-down shed, and then a pickup truck angled into the ditch.

  “Almost there,” Franklin said.

  Stephen was glad, because he’d given his socks to Marina, his shoes were soggy, and his feet were numb. He had a blister on his big toe and figured everybody else had their little problems, too, since both DeVontay and Franklin limped with each step. The two-story house came into view as if it had shimmered out of the whiteness and built itself whole. A rusted tractor sat on rims in the front yard, and a row of steel drums lay on their sides near it.

  Franklin went first, and his knock was muffled by the snow that covered the driveway and grass. He went in and returned a minute later. “All clear.”

  Stephen followed Marina inside, glancing at the towering pines on the mountain slopes that rose from the valley on three sides. He thought he saw a flash of light amid their dark trunks, and he rubbed his eyes.

  Tired, that’s all.

  He closed and locked the door behind him.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR

  DeVontay awoke with a start, not knowing where he was.

  Gray light leaked from the windows, and the air was warm and dry, which meant Franklin had probably started a fire. He was under a blanket, and someone lay beside him. He turned, and there was Rachel staring up at the ceiling. Kokona was nestled in her arms, eyes open as well, although the baby seemed to be looking beyond the walls to a place far away. They were in a bedroom on the second floor, surrounded by dusty and plain furniture, a dresser mirror showing him just how surreal the scene was.

  “You snored,” Rachel said.

  “Nobody’s perfect.” His mouth felt as if he’d eaten rusty steel wool.

  “I liked it,” Kokona said. “It would have been too quiet otherwise.”

  DeVontay rolled up on one elbow. He was fully dressed but had removed his boots and jacket before tucking in. He had no memory of falling asleep. “So what’s going on, Rachel? Why did you want to come with us?”

  “A hunch,” she said. “Before, when I was half mutant, I grew more human the farther I was from the New People. I thought if I got away from the tribe, the human part of me would have a chance to emerge.”

  DeVontay was skeptical. He’d observed that phenomenon, but she’d changed entirely after her resurrection. “Did it work?”

  “I’m in bed with you, aren’t I?”

  She and Kokona lay on top of the blanket, propped up by pillows, but he could feel the warmth emanating from them. That was human, at least. Still, he couldn’t trust them—couldn’t trust her. He couldn’t help but feel this was all a test or a trick, and that right now a herd of Zapheads was standing just outside the door, making gravelly chuckling noises low in their throats, just waiting to rush in chanting “KILL HIM” at Kokona’s silent command.

  “This reminds me of the farmhouse where I was first transformed,” Rachel said.

  “I can’t remember that,” Kokona said. “I think I used to be able to, but now I don’t know.”

  The baby turned to gaze up at Rachel and the gash in her head glistened with gore.

  You did that to her. And now she’ll be like that forever.

  What was wrong with him? He’d wanted her dead, and at the time, he was only upset that he’d failed to finish the job. Was she controlling him again, making him vulnerable?

  Rachel said, “Time for Kokona’s breakfast. And the diapers are downstairs, too.” She gently rolled Kokona off her so that she lay in the depression of the bed next to DeVontay.

  DeVontay drew away, not wanting contact with the baby even through the thick cotton fabric. “You’re going to leave me with her?”

  Rachel actually smiled—and either it was a human gesture, or she was the most devious woman to ever share his bed. “Why don’t you hold her?”

  She got out of bed and left the room, closing the door behind her. He was surprised that, as her carrier, she was able to leave Kokona even for a second. Which probably meant Kokona wanted her to. DeVontay sat up and reached for his jacket, not looking at the mutilated infant.

  “You carried me,” she said, in a small, wistful voice.

  “Because I needed you. To bring back Rachel.”

  “I gave you what you wanted, and you’re still unhappy.”

  He kept his back to her as he wriggled into his jacket. “It’s the human condition. But you wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

  “You have no idea what I know.” She sounded less like an infant and more like a thousand-year-old sage. “Why are you afraid of me? I can’t do anything to you. Look how little my arms are, and my tiny teeth can’t really bite a chunk out of a big man like you.”

  DeVontay thought of Sierra, and he wondered whether she’d already succumbed to her infection or been slaughtered by Zapheads. Were the other eight babies even now organizing the tribe to eradicate anyone who might have survived in Newton, or did Kokona still call the shots? “You control a vicious, invincible army that can’t be killed. What’s there to worry about?”

  She was silent for a while, and then said, “If I had been there when you lost your eye, I would’ve fixed it for you.”

  He issued a grim grunt of a laugh. “Well, that was a different world back then. The real world, not After.”

  DeVontay walked to the window and parted the curtains, letting in a dawn that tried hard to burn through the winter fog. A vigorous coat of snow covered the landscape, fringing the dark green boughs of the pines and clinging to the gray skeletons of oaks and birch. The unblemished view made it easy to believe the solar storms had never happened, and the day could be spent gathering firewood, raiding the root cellar for a good meal, and passing the time sharing stories, dreams, and hopes.

  “I didn’t ask for this,” Kokona said to his back. “I didn’t ask to be born, and I didn’t ask to be transformed, and I didn’t ask for the responsibility of making the world safe for my tribe.”

  He turned. Her cheeks were damp with tears, and her lower lip quivered. The wail was like that of any human baby, and made him feel just as helpless. Kokona voiced her nameless discomfort in the most primitive, natural way possible.

  “WaaaaAAAAH.”

  DeVontay couldn’t help but move closer, drawn by the thin layers of liquid over those brilliant, incendiary eyes that gave them a multifaceted sparkle like a thousand diamonds dropped into the mouth of a volcano.

  “Shhh,” he said soothingly. “None of us asked for this.”

  Her skin was almost as dark as his own, although Kokona’s was more mocha-colored,
smooth, and plump. Except for that raw open cleft in her skull, she could have been his daughter, couldn’t she? And was that permanent wound really any different than his missing eye, which had a glass prosthetic jammed in the socket? Didn’t they all carry their damage?

  He scooted his hands under her and pulled her up, blankets and all. Her familiar weight on his shoulder gave him comfort, and he rocked her gently back and forth, murmuring her name over and over. Within a minute, she’d stopped crying.

  DeVontay hummed a Beatles song, “I’m Only Sleeping,” and he was on the second verse when he noticed Rachel standing in the open door, diapers and a towel stacked in her arms.

  “I see someone’s not so grumpy anymore,” she said, grinning at him.

  “She was upset because no one was carrying her.”

  “That’s not who I’m talking about.”

  DeVontay realized they’d both played him like John Lennon played a guitar. But he didn’t care. This was the first time he’d felt almost normal since August.

  She crossed the room and embraced him in a hug, with Kokona pressed between them. The baby giggled when they kissed, and Rachel stepped back, the blush on her cheeks complementing the smoldering red of her eyes.

  She sniffed the air. “Yes. Just in time for a diaper.”

  “Sorry,” Kokona said. “I’m just a baby. What do you expect?”

  “How did you know?” DeVontay asked, an echo of the question she’d asked him when he gambled that Kokona was the sole force holding the Zapheads together as a tribe.

  And her answer mirrored his. “I didn’t.”

  “You become more human the farther away you are from the other mutants. And because you revived Kokona, you thought she might have some of your humanity inside her, just as her resurrection caused you to become more of a Zap.”

  Rachel laid Kokona on the dresser and began removing her clothes. “I hoped she’d become more human if she had a chance.”