The Ocean in the Fire Page 3

  “You can’t go,” Drew said, louder and sterner than he meant to. If he could help it, they would never travel outside of their town until the pandemic was over.

  Both women stared at him. “What do you mean she can’t go? You said everything was fine.”

  “Drew, what aren’t you telling us?” Blake looked at him with the same expression her father used to: the kind that said tell me the truth now, or tell me the truth later. Either way, you’re talking eventually. Her father had often told him to stop carrying life’s burdens alone. Family and friends were supposed to help each other.

  He had never seen a load quite this heavy.

  Drew took a deep breath, looking at the faces of the two most important women in his life. It seemed he needed to drop a bomb in the middle of a snowstorm that would scatter icy shrapnel at its victims, leaving only bloody surprises behind. As much as he wanted to keep the truth from them just a little longer, he knew Blake. He would have to do nothing short of tie her to a chair to make her miss that interview if he didn’t tell her what was going on. The bomb would have to go off. He got up and yelled up the stairs. “Jackson, close the door, would you?”

  A small voice yelled back at him, “How come?”

  He was so much like his mother.

  “Because I told you to.” He waited until he heard the door shut before he sat back down at the table.

  Vera and Blake leaned in, lowering their voices despite the door being safely closed so Jackson couldn’t hear. “Please, tell us,” Blake said.

  “I didn’t want to say anything until I had to, but since you’re planning to leave town tomorrow, I guess I have to…” He sighed and looked at his wife. “I never made it inside the hospital.”

  Vera’s hands stiffened against the surface of the table. “What? Why?”

  “The hospital is stuffed with patients. Michael wouldn’t even let me get near the entrance.” He grabbed his wife’s hands. “He told me to stay home and take care of you.”

  Vera sucked in a breath. Used to being a doctor’s wife and hearing about life and death every day, she seemed to realize what Drew already had—that his friend was lost forever. “So what does this mean, Drew? What do we do?”

  “Well I think it’s best to just stay here for now. We don’t know how bad it is anyplace else, but we do know we’re okay right here.” He looked at Blake. “I need you to stay home tomorrow. Promise?”

  “Of course. No job is worth that.”

  “Good girl.”

  Blake hesitated. “So, what do we do if…when it reaches us?”

  Drew looked down at the table. He didn’t know the answer. He hadn’t thought the disease would ever reach them, and didn’t have so much as an extra can opener. The only emergency item they had in the house ready to go was a first aid kit, but ointment wasn’t going to help them. He cursed himself for thinking there would never be such an all-encompassing emergency. They were in the United States after all. Their country knew how to handle a crisis.

  He bit his cheek hard to keep from crying out when he realized how wrong he was, and how right someone else had been. He knew there was one person, somewhere close by, who saw it coming. While everyone else was in fear for their lives, that person was sitting in his home comfortably…and laughing.

  Drew cursed him most of all.

  He got up and busied himself straightening pictures on the wall. His father and grandfather looked back at him, as if to tell him he better come up with something quick. He heard them in his ears. Suck it up, crybaby, and get on with it. They’re counting on you. Usually, they were referring to work that had to be done around the house, some undesirable chore that he would hide from in his tree house, or hope that he could escape from by swinging just high enough on the swing set to fly away from there.

  Drew doubted that in their time, they could have ever fathomed the importance of the work he knew he would have to do, what they would all have to do if they wanted to live. He wasn’t sure he had grasped it yet himself.

  He came up with an answer as fast as he could. “This cul-de-sac. Everybody’s good people. If we need to leave, we should go as a group. People do crazy things when they’re scared, and we will have a better chance if we all work together to protect ourselves. When we decide to go, we’ll tell everyone to grab what they can, and we will all caravan out together.” He didn’t even know some people in the neighborhood, but it seemed to make sense. They were probably all good people anyway. He liked to think that most people were.

  Vera got up and hugged her husband. “How much time do you think we have?”

  “I don’t know. All I know is we should stay here as long as we can. The devil you know is better than the devil you don’t.”

  “I’d prefer to not have to deal with any devils,” Blake said.

  “You and me both, but we don’t seem to have a choice now.” Drew opened the door and gestured for Blake to go upstairs. “Grab Jackson and go get some sleep. As soon as I know anything else, we will come get you.”

  Vera came up to Blake and wrapped her arms around her. “Be safe, baby. And keep that boy of yours safe too. Don’t even go to the grocery store until we know more, okay?”

  “I’ll be good.”

  Drew watched Blake and Jackson from their porch as they walked back to their house. She waved at him as they turned away. He didn’t go back into his own house until he could see them safely inside.

  When he came in, Vera smiled. “Still watching over her. Her daddy is smiling down on both of you, I know it.”

  The mention of Blake’s father stirred something inside Drew that made him swallow hard. “I sure hope so.”

  He didn’t sleep that night. So when their phone rang at 2:00 a.m. he picked it up on the first ring, with a clear voice that wasn’t marred with sleep and confusion. “Yes?”

  “Drew, it’s Michael. I’m so sorry man, but you’ve got to get your family out of there now.”

  “What happened?”

  “Everybody got desperate. People here are now looking up the names of doctors who have practices within driving distance and telling people to go there instead.”

  Drew didn’t like where the conversation was heading.

  “They gave people your name.”

  His heart started to throb in his chest, so much that he wondered if Vera could feel it next to him. He turned to look at her, wondering how he was going to tell her the time had come already, but found that she was already awake. Softly, she whispered, “It’s happening, isn’t it…”

  “Thank you, Michael. Thank you for everything.”

  Drew could hear the smile in Michael’s voice, and it tore him up just a little bit more. “Thank me by getting out of there. Live long and prosper so to speak.” He shuddered as he heard a deep cough coming from the other end of the phone.

  As he hung up, he realized that was the last time he would hear his friend’s voice. He pushed the hurt down deep. There would be time to grieve, but that moment was not it. That moment was for honoring the sacrifice his friend had made by doing his job, and helping everyone he could. He vowed to remember it every day, every precious minute that he still had with his family, every second he got that Michael didn’t. “Vera, wake up Blake and tell her and Jackson to get ready fast. I’m going to go tell everyone else what’s going on and have them do the same. Then come back here and grab whatever you can. Food, blankets, medicine—whatever we might need.”

  “And photo albums.”

  The look on his wife’s face when she realized they might never come home broke him in two. “And photo albums.”

  By the time Vera and Drew had locked their house and loaded their car, the cul-de-sac was lit up as if it was daytime. There were several houses in their circle, and each one illustrated its own brand of panic: the one right across from theirs had suitcases flailed across the grass in the front. The one right next to Blake’s had canned goods stacked high on the surface of its wraparound porch next to two gray plastic
containers. The owner shouted to anyone who would listen: “I need more bins! Does anyone have more bins?”

  Someone shouted at the owner: “Just start using suitcases. There’s no need for organization right now. Just move!” Drew looked over to see it was Cassius Melone, the youngest Melone brother. Darius and Cassius lived in the house two doors down from Blake. Cassius was a police officer and probably fairly used to telling people what to do. Drew had only talked to him briefly, but thought he might be an asset later. Most policemen knew how to shoot guns.

  Drew made a mental note to move from acquaintances to friends.

  The last house at the very end of the cul-de-sac belonged to a pharmacist and an engineer. Tonia and George Carson had moved in around the time Blake was born, but the two couples had not become any more than acquaintances. Vera said she’d spoken to Tonia on several occasions, exchanging recipes and listening to what her new building project was. Tonia reminded Vera of people she knew from high school: the kind that call you a friend later but won’t give you the time of day while you’re there. “Not her fault though,” she’d said.

  George ran over to Drew with a large black medical bag. “I thought I should bring this. I’ve been stockpiling ever since this whole thing started.” He opened the bag to reveal a collection of pill bottles that filled to the top. “You never know what we might need.”

  Drew looked at the man’s face. His expression reminded him of a small child showing his parents a picture he drew at school that he was extra proud of. It seemed to ask, “Did I do good?”

  He put a hand on George’s shoulder. “Great idea. Good job.” George ran back to his house looking rather pleased with himself.

  Vera, Blake, and Jackson came up. “It’s getting late. People are going to start showing up as soon as it’s daylight. Shouldn’t we get going?”

  He didn’t want to tell them where exactly they were heading to, but he knew there was no other choice. Once he had the group gathered, they would all want to know.

  He cupped his hands to his mouth to give him more volume. “Everyone! Gather over here. Let’s go.” He stood still as the people in his neighborhood put down whatever they were working on and circled around him. Looking around at all of them, hopeful and panicked all at the same time, he realized that this was going to be another time, like countless before, that he had people’s lives in his hands.

  The idea made him shiver.

  He focused his eye contact on his wife, and only his wife. Speaking in front of a crowd in normal circumstances made his skin itch, let alone in an emergency situation: “Friends, we are about to face a crisis, and we have a better chance if we face it together.”

  A voice asked, “Where will we go? We have to get out of town. Maybe Arborville is okay.”

  Another, “Didn’t you hear Drew? It’s spreading too fast. Even if Arborville is okay now it’s not going to be for long. This thing is going to push us right into the ocean. There’s nowhere to go to.”

  Cassius waved his arms, silencing the crowd. “Let Drew talk, he said he had a plan.”

  Drew took a brief moment to give him a grateful nod before he turned his attention back to Vera. “You’re right. It is going to push us toward the water.”

  “Then what do we do?”

  He took a deep breath. “We go up.”

  Even Vera’s eyes widened.

  Darius, the second Melone brother, spoke: “You don’t mean—”

  “Yes. He’s our best shot.”

  “But the guy up the mountain’s crazy,” Tonia said. “I’ve heard he keeps his family locked away up there. The whole town talks about how nuts he is.”

  Her husband added, “He’ll never help us.”

  The group fell silent. For a moment, Drew tried to concentrate on the sounds of the night—the chirping of the crickets, the breeze blowing through the trees, anything to help him contain the panic that was growing in his gut. There was a real possibility that they were right: Connor was their best shot, but Drew could very well see them begging for his help and Connor turning them away, laughing all the while, telling them that their fate would be payback for the way he was treated so many years ago. That scenario was just as likely, probably more so, than what he’d hoped would happen.

  There was another possibility too. Perhaps Connor would let them in. But, at least the last time Drew saw him, Connor seemed unbalanced, and he doubted that ten years in isolation would have done much to help his mental state. Connor’s compound could be the ocean in the fire: something that at first glance looks like salvation, but could be just as deadly as what they were running from.

  But his audience didn’t need to know that.

  “He will. No matter what kind of compound he thinks he’s created up there, there’s things we can offer that he can’t possibly have.”

  “Like what?” the pharmacist asked.

  “Well, for one thing…” Drew paused then grabbed the medical bag out of the George’s hand, opening it up for the neighborhood to see. “I doubt he has a lot of this laying around.” He turned to the pharmacist’s wife. “And he can’t possibly know how to build everything he may need. You could offer him a way to build a better water system or something. Something he hasn’t thought of.” He marched over to Cassius and Darius. “You, a cop, and you, a pilot? I’m sure he could use some extra security around there, right?”

  Cassius grinned. “And these perhaps?” He opened the back of his pickup truck to reveal what was sitting all across the back seat.

  Sprawled across the leather were rifles and handguns from all different eras. There were some that looked like they could have been used in mafia hits in the 1930s, while others looked like cowboys may have carried them on their hips; then there were the .45s and the Glocks.

  Darius and Cassius then lifted their shirts to reveal the revolvers on their right hips, and the switchblades sticking out of their pockets. “We’re weapons enthusiasts,” Darius said.

  Drew had never been comfortable with guns, never had a taste for them, but the realization hit him hard that he would have to develop one. “Very good, guys.” He turned to the group as a whole, now confident enough to raise his eyes to each and every one of them. “We all have something to offer. Don’t forget that. If you do, he will too.”

  The rest of the people in the neighborhood all had something to offer Connor and his family. There was a firefighter among them, a lawyer that was exceptionally fast, and a salesperson who could negotiate their way into a peaceful resolution if a rival group was ever in the picture. Drew hoped Connor could see everyone’s value the way he did. Every life was precious, especially when healthy people were apparently going to be harder and harder to come by.

  Despite Drew’s confidence, some people in group elected to go their own way. George, Tonia, Cassius, and Darius stayed, perhaps more confident in Drew’s plan than any they had come up with on their own. Three other couples stayed, the lawyer and her husband among them, and Drew didn’t want to admit to himself that he couldn’t remember their names.

  Everyone deserved to be remembered.

  After loading the vehicles, they lined up in a caravan, with Drew’s SUV in the lead. Vera started to get in the front seat, when Drew stopped her. “No, you get in back with Blake and Jackson.” He pulled her close to whisper in her ear, so that the others wouldn’t hear. “If something happens, I want you to be able to duck.”

  “Not a chance.”

  “Vera, I—”

  She shook her head. “We have a better chance of seeing something coming with two sets of eyes looking for it.”

  Drew considered arguing with her, but as she lifted herself into the passenger seat, he realized she was right. “Okay, but if I say duck—”

  “I’ll duck.”

  Before they left, Drew went to each car behind him, starting with Cassius and Darius at the back. As Cassius rolled down the window, he said, “Darius is going to be lookout in the back as I drive. That way we’re covered i
f someone tries to sneak up on us.” Drew started to say he can’t imagine someone would, but he realized he would have never imagined them abandoning their homes in the middle of the night either. “Good idea. Thank you.”

  Tonia and George’s car was the second in line, directly behind Drew. He tapped on the window and George rolled it down. “Everything’s going to be fine, you’ll see. We’re going to make it through this.”

  George extended his hand. “Thanks to you.”

  He swallowed hard, thinking to himself to save the thank-yous until they were inside the property at the top of the mountain. Until then, he couldn’t allow himself the luxury of hope. He resolved that on their way up, he would focus all his concentration on coming up with a Plan B.

  Except he already knew there wasn’t one.

  CHAPTER THREE

  CONNOR (before)

  Connor remembered the exact day their faces started to change. It seemed to happen to all of them at once, like a mist sweeping across the tiny northwest town. He admitted to himself that a small part deep within him wanted to blame Kate: a face filled with sorrow could always have her spilling her soul within minutes, and that morning was no exception. This time, the pleading face belonged to their daughter. “Of course you can have a birthday party, Harper. Why wouldn’t you be able to?”

  “I thought Daddy would be mad.”

  He watched from around the corner as Kate held their daughter’s face in her hands. A six-year-old Harper was a force, a hurricane with fluttering lashes and a dimple in her chin. More so than her sister, Harper knew from an early age how to bat her eyelashes and pout her lips in the exact way that got her what she wanted, despite the catastrophic consequences. “Daddy would never be mad at you for having a birthday party. There’s no better reason to celebrate after all!”