Chapter 44
Their luck had improved after totaling the Audi. They found an abandoned but un-looted grocery store in a small town called Slug Lake about four-hundred miles north of the gravel pit they’d originally set out from. They filled the Buick’s big trunk with enough food and basic supplies to last half a year. The road began to deteriorate about another hundred miles on, and gave way to gravel. The gravel became a narrow mud trail with tall spruce trees choking in from either side.
“Are we still on Highway 10?” Angela asked.
A rusted sign a hundred yards ahead confirmed they were. “Almost glad my Audi didn’t make it this far,” Caitlan said from the back seat, squeezed in between Fred and the twins. “I wouldn’t want to drive it in this shit.”
“Language,” Hayden warned. Nicholas crawled up onto his knees and turned in the front seat to face her. He made a zipping motion with his fingers across his lips.
They continued on. The tarnished green forests deepened to smoky grey, and the clouds darkened a dirty mustard color. A cold mist settled on the Buick’s plastic windshield, forcing Hayden to pull over for the night. None of them slept well, and Amanda woke up at one point screaming about dead babies.
Morning wasn’t much of an improvement. The sky looked sick.
“How much further?” Michael asked.
“Another hour,” Hayden answered. “Maybe two.”
It ended up being four. The town of Odin Lake—sitting on the edge of the black body of water with the same name—was nestled in a small valley lined with forest as far the eye could see. There were half a dozen small houses built up into the hill with a single road that led down to a single gas station-general store. The old man running the place filled the Buick’s tank for free, explaining money had about as much use as dried dog turds these days.
Hayden asked if the retired teachers were still staying out at the island lodge.
“Paul and Joyce Baxter? You know them?”
“My Dad and I spent a week there years ago.”
“Yeah, I suppose they’re still there. Most everyone else in town left.” He nodded up to the desolate homes in the hill. “Some of them said they needed to see for themselves what happened down south… Stupid reasoning, if you want my opinion. The whole world’s gone to hell in hand basket. Why do you need to see that? We may not have much up here, but it’s peaceful and quiet.” He replaced the gas cap and patted the Buick’s dented roof. “You might want to get that windshield replaced. The one you got now doesn’t look all that efficient.”
Hayden thanked him for the free fuel and got back into the car. The old man reached in through the open driver’s side window and rested a hand on his shoulder. “So what is it like down there? What’s left?”
“You made the right choice staying put.”
The lodge on the lake was another mile north of town. Hayden spotted it first through a break in the trees. The big single story log cabin sitting on a grassy slab of rock was just as he remembered it, perhaps a little more worn and moss-covered, but seeing it again brought back good memories, and re-calling pleasant things was a gift in itself. The two canoes sitting on the shore’s sandy edge twenty years ago had been upgraded to four sturdy row boats. Business must have been booming near the end, Hayden thought sadly.
The three kids ran for the closest one and Hayden called them back. “Let me go out there alone and speak with them first.”
“I’ll go with you,” Angela said.
It was a short trip—only two hundred yards out—but it felt like miles to Hayden. Something didn’t seem right. The lake was too dark and still. The lodge that had seemed warm and inviting to him as a young teenager now appeared brooding and resistant.
They pulled the boat up along the short wooden dock and climbed out. Hayden knocked lightly on the front door. Angela gave him a look and knocked harder. “Hello?” She called out. “Anybody home?”
Hayden tried the handle and the door pushed in with a loud squeak.
Remember what happened the last time you broke into someone’s house?
“Shut up,” Angela said.
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I was talking about the door… it needs oil.”
They stepped inside and were greeted with stench.
Angela plugged her nostrils. “Smells like something died in here.”
They found the owners’ decomposing bodies a minute later in one of the four bedrooms. They were nestled in bed with blankets pulled neatly up to their shoulders. Two empty pill bottles lay on the floor.
Hayden and Angela hurried outside for fresh air. “We can’t stay here,” she said. “I can’t stay here after seeing that.”
Don’t say I didn’t warn you.
“We can’t go back, Angela. There’s nowhere left to go.”
They discussed it for a few more minutes and finally rowed back to land. Fred and Caitlan agreed to help Hayden bury the bodies while Angela kept the children occupied unloading the car. They left all the lodge windows and doors open as they went about their grisly task. They remained open for the rest of the day and all through the night. They slept in the car one last time.
Chapter 45
“Where’s she taking him?” Louie asked.
“There’s over three hundred miles of tunnels down here,” Grace said. “Who knows where she’ll eventually dump him?”
They were sitting at a fold-out table next to the pallet Louie and Roy had dragged out of the elevator. Louie’s insidious magic had appeared to have worked on the women—at least Grace. They hadn’t killed him. They had kept him. And that’s all Louie needed for the time being. “So are you going to tell me how you guys found this place?”
Grace had boiled them two cups of instant coffee over a hotplate. She handed him one. “We didn’t find it… we worked here.”
“You’re miners?” Louie asked. “Seriously?”
“I worked topside in transport. Made sure the trains picked up the potash in a timely manner. Twice a day, four in the afternoon, four in the morning, three-hundred and sixty-five days a year.”
“What did Fiona do?”
“She did everything. Fiona owns Odessa.”
Roy opened his eyes to darkness. He could feel his body vibrating, bouncing up and down. Moving. I’m in a vehicle. The pain in his left leg hit him next like a sledge hammer. He cried out.
“Good morning, Piggy,” Fiona’s voice called from somewhere ahead. “I didn’t think you were going to make it, but Grace did a great job wrapping up that knee—what’s left of it.”
The vehicle started to slow. Roy struggled to sit up. They were in some kind of open transport.
“Watch your head, Piggy. There’s maybe half a foot of clearance.”
Roy looked up and saw rock passing by in the shadows. If he’d straightened up any further, his skull would’ve ripped open like cheddar against a cheese grater. Bright headlights shone ahead illuminating the sparkling pink tunnel they were traveling down.
Fiona brought the six-seat work buggy to a halt. “There’s three-hundred and twenty miles of tunnel down here.” She tossed a plastic bottle filled with water out onto the ground, and started moving again. Half a mile on she stopped again. “You like pork and beans, Piggy?”
Roy didn’t answer.
She threw the food can out, and they sped away once again. The tunnel curved left, and the tunnel turned right. Roy saw other tunnels joining up with the one they were in slip by. There were dozens of them. Fiona stopped every mile or so along the way, tossing out water bottles and tins of food. “I’m taking you to the furthest point away from Shaft 168. That’s about twenty-four miles. I’m leaving you a trail of food and water to live on. Don’t go thinking it’s a sure trail back to where we started. I’m going to drop a whole shit-load off on the way back through a bunch of other tunnels.”