Barry nods.
Walter lets out a sigh. “We aren’t blaming you three for bringing them. Just weird timing is all.”
“We hate it worse than you,” I say, but it sounded better in my mind before it came out.
Walter looks at me sideways and shakes his head. “Hank, you got a place for them to stay?”
“Of course!” he says a little too loudly. “I’ve got plenty of more stories to tell. Some good, some sad, all of them with a purpose.”
“I’d almost rather take my chances with the greyskins,” Gilbert says.
Barry looks at him with an eyebrow raised. “We don’t know you, pal. Don’t tempt us to make you try.”
We sit for hours, waiting for the herd to pass like a slow moving storm and I feel like a child that can’t go outside because of the rain. The morning turns into afternoon, and the afternoon, evening.
“Oh, these herds can last for days,” Hank tells us. “It’s madness. Every step we take has to be taken with care. We aren’t even allowed to flush the toilets for fear that one of those creatures will hear.”
Gilbert makes another snide comment about having a wall, but he is ignored. By sunset we know there will be no traveling for the night and Hank helps us set up cots in his apartment that used to be Room 204 — Biology. He explains to us that in the morning, a few of the guys will try to go out and make noises away from the school to point the herd in a different direction. It is a dangerous job that sometimes works and sometimes doesn’t.
Late into the night, despite my lack of sleep the night before, I’m wide awake, thinking about Lucas. Hank snores away at the other end of the room. Gilbert’s cot is near the door, and Ethan’s cot is only a few feet away from mine, which is next to the window. I try to look out into the streets. Occasionally, I will spot a greyskin lurking around in the moonlight and every time I do, I get a sick feeling in my stomach.
A tear slides down my nose and onto my pillow as I stare into the night. The moon is full and foreboding. I think not only of Lucas, but others that I have lost. My sister. My parents. Hattie.
Hattie… what would I have done without you?
I bury my face into my pillow so my cries will not be heard. I try to think of the future, but I feel like there is no future. All I can do is think about the past and those that brought me to where I am.
Chapter 8 – Waverly
I never found out why there was smoke in the distance, hovering over the city like some menacing cloud that promised an imminent storm that would soon destroy us all. Perhaps it was an explosion? Maybe someone tried to set a building full of those grey people on fire? It didn’t matter. Hattie was driving us as far away from the city as possible. She tried calling her husband, Charles, but there was no answer. She stared straight ahead, her eyes wide as we moved forward, but I knew she was worried that something might have happened to her family.
I felt sick about my own family. My mom… my dad. I used Hattie’s phone to try and call my sister, but I got no answer. For a couple of minutes, we listened to the radio as she drove, but it was all the same. No one knew what was happening, and all the reports said that it seemed to be a virus that had affected people. Hattie switched it off and we rode in silence the rest of the way to her house.
I never knew that she lived almost forty-five minutes away, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. I had always just assumed that she had a house somewhere within Oakridge. It was small, but comfortable. A giant oak tree in the front yard shaded most of the property, and Charles’ truck was parked in the driveway. We looked in every direction to make sure none of those grey things were lurking around before we got out.
Hattie ran toward the front porch, but before she reached it, Charles and their son came out to meet her. Both of them held a rifle in their hands.
“Are you all right?” Charles asked her, hugging her tightly. “I’ve been trying to call you for the past hour.”
“So have I,” she said, “but I haven’t been able to get through.”
“Who’s this?” Charles asked as I walk toward the porch.
“This is Waverly,” Hattie said.
Charles nodded at me and then looked at Hattie.
She shook her head. “She doesn’t have any place to go,” she whispered, though I could still hear her.
Charles nodded again and smiled at me, but it wasn’t a happy smile. It seemed like pity as he motioned for me to come toward the porch. “You’re welcome to stay with us as long as you need to.”
“Thank you,” I said.
“Let’s get inside,” he said.
I looked at Hattie’s son and did my best to smile at him, but my heart wasn’t in it. I had met him a couple of years before when he had been with his mom and she had to drop something off at our house. He was about my age, maybe a year older. He had a dimple in his left cheek when he smiled. The gun he carried seemed too big for him, but he carried it like he knew how to use it.
“Have you seen one of those things in person?” he asked as we walked through the door.
“Yeah,” I said. “They are scary.” I didn’t want to talk about it, but I had to accept that this would be talked about non-stop for a long time, wouldn’t it? This was the kind of thing that would be the top new story on every station for months. They would be debating over and over. Was this a terrorist attack? Was it a virus? Would there ever be a way to fix this problem? Someone would find a fix or a cure eventually, but it would be too late for my family.
Charles locked the door behind us and stood for a moment, looking at each of us in turn. “We don’t open the door for anyone,” he said. “We keep the blinds drawn and keep the noise minimal. Nobody should be interested in our place.” He took a deep breath and looked at me. “We will be safe here tonight.”
I swallow and look at the floor, avoiding his stare. I don’t want to be around anyone, but I have no choice. To be alone is to be in danger.
I nearly jump when I hear my name.
“Waverly,” Charles said. “In case Hattie hasn’t ever told you, I’m Charles.” He motioned to his son. “And this is Lucas.”
I didn’t want to watch the news but it seemed there was nothing else to do. Hattie sat on one couch next to Charles while I sat on another with Lucas, a cushion between us. The television screen glowed with images of these grey people and I found myself having to turn away more often than not. Hattie looked at me a few times, but I just pretended not to notice. She tried to ask Charles to turn it off but he shushed her and said important information might come up.
The world was becoming chaotic and they were calling it an outbreak of a new, unknown virus. The news anchors weren’t certain how to explain it, but they interviewed all kinds of scientists to try. One of the interviews was particularly interesting in which they spoke with a professor who lived in the epicenter of this outbreak.
“We have with us Professor Jeremiah Adams, from the University of Elkhorn on the phone with us,” one of the news anchors said. “First we want to ask, are you in a safe place?”
“Yes I am,” the professor said.
“Now, from what we understand, it has been determined that this sickness, this virus, originated around the university at one of your labs, is that correct?”
“I have several high-tech labs with a lot of people using them,” the professor explained.
“Is it not true that there was a shooting at one of your labs and that many infected rats escaped more than a week ago?”