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  Chapter Eight

  We awoke to a sticky, humid morning. Fog still hung at knee level, but at least we could see. A heavy grey cloud had replaced yesterday’s stunning blue sky. Wiping my face in a desperate race to keep the sweat out of my eyes, I acknowledged that the humidity was absolutely brutal.

  Sara and I had completed the task of loading the truck and now awaited the others. Kevin was attempting to wake up Jake who, we suspected, could end up dead one morning to no one’s surprise. Gil and Seth had been up for a few hours- they were down at the lake catching and releasing their last few fish while Tom and Sonny made coffee for the crew. Freddy was out purging himself, as unbelievable as that might seem on a day like this, while Sidney, John and Caroline loaded up John’s car. Earl was busying himself with his truck, fixing a leak: always something wrong with that truck. Connor and Julia returned from a nature walk, reporting a Freddy sighting.

  “As he darted by us he said he’d be back in a half hour. One more lap around the forest, I guess.” Connor shook his head, giggling at Fred’s determination to be the picture of health. I shook my head.

  “Jesus he can’t be serious. It’s so humid.”

  Gil came back from the lake, fishing rod in hand. “No fish today.” He looked puzzled. “I can’t understand it. We did so well this weekend.”

  I bit my lip as my heart skipped a beat. Gil added, “And that damn cloud’s still hangin’ in the south.” He pointed in its direction.

  A pain in my chest ignited an anxiety attack. I squeezed Sara’s hand a little too tightly. She pulled free, rubbing the reddened skin. “Joel, what’s the matter?”

  “Sorry.... I didn’t mean to...”

  “You need some down time, Joel. I think this weekend took a lot out of you.” She smiled. “When we get home, I’ll make you some soup, run you a bath, and tuck you in, alright lover?”

  “Okay.” I relaxed. We kissed. A hug followed, long and deep, melting us into each other. She was such a comfort.

  The group was ready to go by 12:30, so we reluctantly began the long ride back to civilization. The fog cleared as we drove further from the lake. Pulling out of the forest and back onto the main road which would take us home, we spotted the dark cloud, hanging ominously overhead.

  Silence reigned during the drive. Connor’s radio picked up only static, and we were all too tired to talk much. An hour into the three-hour trip, we pulled into a gas station. Anyone with a full bladder took advantage of the facilities as we all gassed up. I wandered into the store to talk to the attendant and hopefully get an update on the Reaper’s activity.

  “Nope, can’t say,” replied the old man behind the counter. “Our t.v. and radio have been all screwy since I got up this morning. Must have something to do with that storm cloud there.” He pointed out the window. “Not a lot of traffic either, not since yesterday. Come to think of it, yesterday I saw more people pass through here, headed north, than I’ve seen on most long weekends.”

  “Alright, thanks.” I pushed through the heavy glass door, disheartened at the lack of information, and approached Connor, who was still pumping gas. “This guy’s radio is out too, man. He’s blaming it on the cloud.” I paused. “I’d say he’s right.”

  “No worries, buddy.” Connor was in good spirits. “Get in the truck. I’ll pay the man and we’ll be on our way.”

  When we were on the road again, I fought the urge to tell Connor to turn around, to take us anywhere but home. I couldn’t explain it. I told myself that the hovering cloud was the product of an early summer storm, that what the skunk had told me was nothing more than acid-induced bullshit. I fidgeted in my seat, feeling hot and anxious. Connor agreed that it was unusually warm and turned on the air conditioning.

  Suddenly the cloud was on top of us – that’s when huge flakes of what looked like snow began to fall. Connor’s wipers fought valiantly to clean up our field of vision as the flakes became thicker. The cleaner steamed as it hit the windshield, lubricating the wipers and messing the view. Connor finally pulled off the road, got out, and tried to clean the window himself with a rag. After a couple of futile wipes, he hopped back into the truck.

  “What is this shit?” He brushed it out of his hair and collar. “It’s hot too, did you see that? Look at how my wipers are dragging along the windshield. Everything’s so hot and the visibility is really starting to suck.” The sound of the wiper motor struggling suddenly became audible.

  “It looks like ash,” Julia said. “Not to alarm anyone, but when I was in Costa Rica and the Arenal Volcano erupted, this is exactly what it looked like a few minutes later. Maybe there’s a forest fire somewhere, burning out of control.” She reached out the window, collected some of the downpour onto her palm, and studied it. “This is some pretty big ash, though.”

  Sara’s voice trembled. “Just don’t go back out in it unless you have a rag or something to put over your mouth and nose. We don’t know what this stuff is. It could be from a chemical plant that burned down somewhere.”

  We stared at each other, anxiety and confusion visible on our faces as we tried to figure out what was happening. The silence was finally broken by John knocking on Connor’s window.

  “I’m not going to ask you guys what the hell’s happening here, but I will suggest we get to cover as soon as possible.” He glanced back at his vehicle covering his face and head with his hands.

  “Shit. Okay, let’s all go to Joel’s house and wait this out. We can call our houses from there. That cool, Joel?” Connor looked at me.

  “Sure, my place is closest. Let’s do it.”

  John nodded. “I’ll tell the rest of them.”

  Sara handed him a t-shirt from her bag. “Put this over your mouth, John, to be safe.”

  He thanked her, then ran back to his car, jacket pulled over his head, t-shirt pushed into his face.

  Trying my best not to panic, now sure of what had happened, knowing the source behind the dirty snow, I turned and forced a smile at the girls. “It’ll be alright... We’re almost home.”

  Connor stepped on the gas and we rocketed back into action. During the final approach home we ran into a type of traffic congestion that only a farming town could throw at you. A herd of panicked cattle was pouring onto the road, pushing into one another as they squeezed through the narrow opening in the driftwood fence. Once again our motorcade was forced onto the shoulder. The stampede ended quickly enough, thank God, and soon we were moving again. I thought of my neighbour- did he know that his livestock had broken free? The trees were on fire behind his house: perhaps that was what spooked the cows. Shit, what if my forest was going up in flames? Or my house!

  “Shit, I gotta clean the window again.” Connor pulled over and got out while the rest of us remained in the car, craning our necks to see out the windows. A deafening sound came from above. I spotted a low-flying plane, a fat-bodied military one. A Hercules? Water poured out of its belly, smothering the flames behind my neighbour’s house. That was a reassuring sight. Then we saw six more flying just over the tree line, heading north. They too released a huge payload on the forest just behind my house, and continued on.

  “See that!?” shouted Connor, throwing himself back into the driver’s seat. “Must be some serious forest fire causing this cloud of shit!”

  “Maybe that’s all it is,” I heard myself say. “Let’s get to my house and turn on the generator. I want to see if we can get a channel on the tube. There has to be a station covering this.” Our caravan sprang back into action, plowing through the heavy ash that had collected on the roads.

  The yard looked slightly scorched but otherwise normal. But my house! My house was burning! Wait, no, it wasn’t. It was just steam billowing off the clay shingles. I made a mad dash for the front door. Inside, everything was as I’d left it, except for the acrid smell of smoke that pervaded the rooms. The others still assumed that the culprit was a large forest fire. Not me. I knew differently. I knew, but didn’t want to believe.
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br />   As we piled into the house, Conner rushed to the basement and immediately turned on the generator.

  All of my friends lined up for the phone, as none of their cell phones had any reception. Nobody got through the first time around. Fear crept into our circle – I could see it in their eyes. I left the group at the phone and hurried to my room, where I looked out the window.

  Seeing the devastation in the back woods sent my heart racing. Several large trees were stripped of their branches, naked to the soot and falling ash. I figured that the water from the planes tore the smaller branches from their trunks. While I watched, an inky darkness crawled over the sky, turning afternoon into night. What the...

  Someone was calling for me from the main floor. Turning away from the alien view, I went downstairs.

  “The phone doesn’t seem to be working, Joel,” said Caroline. “I think we’ll have to go home to see what’s up.”

  “Alright.” Raising my voice, I addressed the troops. “If you guys want to head home and make sure everybody’s okay, then go. I’ll wait here, but come back tonight and let me know… so I know.”

  Freddy spoke up. “Personally, I don’t think it’s very smart to go back out in this shit. Not until the smoke clears.”

  “Well, I’m worried about my family. I need to know they’re alright,” Caroline insisted.

  “It’s only a twenty-minute drive to any of our houses from here,” John added. “I think we’ll be able to get safely there and back. Then we’ll know...” His voice trailed off, his anxiety was audible.

  “Maybe, but if you want, you’re welcome to stay here. I’m going to try the t.v.” I passed through the crowd into the living room, wiping the endless stream of sweat from my face, and turned the television on. Nothing. Not even the local station was on the air. The satellite was obviously affected by the heavy ash in the atmosphere. Switching to antenna didn’t help. “Damn!” I turned to Connor. “Try the stereo.”

  He fiddled with the switch. “Nope. Something’s up. I think we’d all better go to our parents’ places and see what we can see....” He pushed past Gil and Seth, and they followed. I was close behind.

  “If something bad has happened, promise me you’ll all come back here,” I pleaded. I hugged Sara tightly before sending her off with Connor and Julia. Shaking Connor’s hand, I added, “Come back before too long, either way, you know?” He nodded and the whole crew exited.

  Since I was now alone, I tried the television again, leaving it on a single channel, just in case. If nothing more, it would suffice as company. It was then that I remembered the internet: odds were that it would still be functioning! But as I sprinted for my room, I realized that if the phone line was down, there would be no way of accessing the Internet. “Damn it!” My stomach tightened into a fist.

  Another possible resource came to mind. The paper- perhaps there had been some kind of warning. After all, the old man at the gas station had mentioned seeing heavy northbound traffic yesterday. We had the local paper delivered daily, so the Saturday edition should still be in the mail box at the end of the driveway. I put on a heavy jacket and raced outside, pressing a dish towel against my nose and mouth. Sure enough, the paper was stuffed tightly into our box. I pulled it out and ran back to the house.

  After throwing the ash-flecked jacket off, I went to the kitchen, where I slammed the paper down on the table and sifted through the bloated inserts from the new super store. Then my worst fears were realized. I had that moment of terrible clarity, when my future and the future of those remaining were set out before me.

  The headline read “The Reaper Cometh”. I now knew that this was IT, and that my friends would return with dire news of their own. I read on. The Reaper had confirmed that he had more nuclear missiles in his personal arsenal than first feared. The story also went on to explain what one should do if the Reaper followed through on his threats: where to go, how to stay safe and how to fight against the radiation poisoning that would be sure to follow.

  I knew it had happened, but I still had hope. After all, we were all still alive. The worst-case scenario flashed through my head, and I did what little I could to control it. Wait and see.

  Waiting for the door to open was agonizing, so I kept myself busy with mindless chores. Finally my attention returned to the paper. A new statement had been posted on The Four Horsemen website, this one directly from the head Horse’s mouth. “Blame your Governments, blame your greed, blame your ignorance and your ambition. Blame yourselves for your end.” It was absolutely chilling.

  A bout of nausea struck me, sending me to the bathroom. I just knelt there, hugging the toilet and staring into the bowl. Like Nostradamus looking into his bowl of water to see the future, I sat looking at mine. Finally I stood and slowly made my way back to my room.

  The clock on the wall read four in the afternoon. Funny, it felt like midnight in the 7th circle of hell. How long would it remain midnight here? I passed my parents’ room on route. I still called it their room, as though Dad were still alive.

  Stepping into my own room, once a sanctuary, I went to the window again and pressed my hands against the glass. It was warm. I pulled away and rubbed my palms together, never breaking my gaze. A feeling of hate overcame me. The Reaper was responsible for this, that piece of shit had thrown the world into the gutter! Who the hell did he think he was? I could feel my face tighten. “Fuck!” My fist hit the wall beside the window. “Fucker!” I sank to my knees, continuing to punch the wall on my way down. When I reached the floor it became my target until the mood left me, on my knees, slouched over, crying for all things lost.

  After several minutes, I pulled myself together and got up, but in doing so, stumbled and knocked over Rex. When I picked him up, his tail fell off. I tried to reposition him, but he would no longer stand without the tail in place. Sighing, I sat Rex next to me on the bed.

  Then I surveyed the rest of the house for damage. My rounds began with the bathroom, where I made sure that the toilet flushed and we had running water. Next stop was the addition, where I observed that Kevin’s paintings remained intact. My gaze fell on his latest piece, the one from my recurring dream. It sat unfinished on his easel.

  Back in the living room, I tried again to access a radio broadcast. No luck- maybe the reception was still messed up. Or maybe I was just full of wishful thinking. But there had to be other survivors in the area, right? We saw the planes in the sky- that was a definite sign that others made it too. I turned away from the radio and mused, “Actually, they may have seen us driving here as they put the fires out, and they’ll come looking for us!”

  I settled on the sofa, cherishing the image of a brilliant rescue until I was relaxed enough to sink into a restless slumber.

  Chapter Nine

  I dreamed, although all I could remember afterward was disjointed imagery. I saw body parts: first a leg, then an arm. A torso and a hand. The wing of a bird. A horn, like that of a mountain goat. When I tried to make sense of it, my initial thought was that my subconscious was trying to reconcile man and nature.

  My throat tickled as I sat up. When I coughed, something dark and thick spattered onto my hand. I’d inhaled some of the crap that fell from the sky- maybe that was to blame for the messed-up dream. As I ran into the bathroom to spit the rest of it up, the front door opened.

  “Joel!” Connor shouted. “You alright?” His voice cracked, as if he’d been crying. “Sara’s here too, so is Julia.”

  I wiped my mouth and hurried to meet them. Connor was setting his bags on the entry hall floor while the girls hovered in the open doorway, clinging to each other. “Looks like we’ll be staying here,” he said. His head dropped, and my heart sank.

  I squeezed his shoulders, assuring him that he didn’t need to say more, that I knew. Then I approached Sara. I wanted to rescue her, to erase the haunted horror from her eyes. She released Julia and clung to me.

  “Oh Joel,” she half-sobbed. “It’s awful, it’s so awful....” She
began to weep. I held her a little tighter. Julia hugged Connor from behind, her cheek resting against his back, but he seemed stiff, unresponsive. Like he was in shock.

  “I’ve got to get the rest of our stuff out of the truck,” he said in monotone before going back outside.

  “They’re all dead, Joel,” whispered Sara. “My family, the whole town...” She broke down again.

  It was hard to keep my own tears in check, but I managed. “I’m sorry, Sara, I’m so sorry.... but we’ll be alright. We’ll be alright.” That seemed like such a weak thing to say, but it was all I could think of. “Look, would you mind giving Julia a hand? I have to take care of something.”

  She understood- I needed to go to Connor and snap him out of the shock that had him acting like a robot. Releasing her gently, I took a heavy parka from the front hall closet and threw it on to protect myself from the ash.

  I found Connor in the truck, just sitting in the driver’s seat, staring blankly ahead. Climbing into the passenger side, I asked gently, “Connor, you okay, buddy?”

  He didn’t move his head. “It’s brutal, Joel. The roads are all congested, full of cars that don’t go anymore. People are dead in the streets. I couldn’t find anyone at my house, maybe they got away.” He finally looked over at me.

  “Maybe,” I said. Then I turned away, studying the windshield. “The Reaper did it, man. He did exactly what he said he’d do. The local paper picked up the last thing he’d written on the net. This isn’t the end though, Connor. The military planes, the ones that put out the fires, they saw us. They’ll probably be back to pick us up. They might have even picked up your parents and brother.”