The Road Home by Clifford Beck - HTML preview

Chapter 35

Having agreed to Aurora’s plan, Jackson, having taken the wheel, started the engine and driving as slowly as possible, pulled out into the road. The tires crackled as they rolled across the loose gravel until the eastern edge of the town came into view. Everyone’s eyes scanned everything within sight, examining houses and windows, yards and allies. The town seemed empty until Aurora began to panic, screaming at the top of her voice.

“I saw something!” she screamed. “In the window!”

Jackson reacted by bringing the RV to a sudden stop. Pointing to a nearby house, she described what had briefly occurred. At least, what she thought she saw. Naturally, her reaction grabbed everyone’s attention as Maya rushed to her side. “What is it?” she asked.

Aurora, frozen with fear, brought her hands up to her mouth with eyes wide in continued panic. Seeing the state she was in, Maya pressed her for a response.

“Aurora,” she continued. “Just breathe. Now, what did you see? Can you point to it?” Aurora slowly regained enough of her senses to extend an arm, pointing to a nearby house. “It was there,” she said. “There was someone in the window! They fucking looked right at me!” Fear escalated to hysterics while Maya continued her attempt to bring Aurora back to a calm state. Being unsuccessful, she picked up a bottle of water, removed the cap, and squeezed its contents in her face. Its cold temperature provided enough of a shock that Aurora’s horrified outburst came to a sudden stop. Although her emotional reaction had disappeared, Aurora’s body had become stiff with the intensity of panic that still ran through her mind. Rubbing her shoulders, Maya spoke to her in a whisper and eventually brought her back to the world of rationality.

Easing up on the brake, Jackson continued their crawl through the small mountain town and turning right, saw a modest two-story house. Along its side was a driveway of a length adequate for the size of the RV. Stopping in front of the house, he turned back and asked for opinions.

“Guys, what do you think?”

Studying it through the windows, everyone made their own assessment of what they saw as a possible residence.

“Well,” Maya began. “I guess as long as no one’s there…”

“Yeah,” Eli said. “But what if someone is there? What if they’re dead?”

A palpable silence hovered over the group as the thought of encountering the melting flesh of the infected departed haunted their minds. “Well,” Jackson said. “We’re not going to know unless we go in.”

Eli, speaking from his usual fearful nature, asked who would investigate the house for the presence of any current residents – living or dead. “Eli,” Aurora said. “Why don’t you go in?” Eli had already had his fill of the dead and quickly made his thoughts known.

“Fuck you,” he replied. “I’m not going in there. Why don’t you go in?”

Having quickly grown tired of their childish bickering, Maya interrupted.

“That’s enough, you two!” she said. “Jesus Christ, I’ll go in.”

Instructing Jackson to open the door, she stormed out mumbling her continued frustration, a behavior that, under the circumstances, was unnecessary. They had gone from living in a civilized society of higher education to a wandering group of intellectual nomads, completely unprepared for what lay ahead of them. But here was an opportunity to have a roof over their heads, food, and warmth. And with the snow falling heavier, the reality of having no place else to go began to sink in. At this point, they could not return to Tacoma, and they were unable to move forward due to their lack of gas, mountainous terrain, and accumulating snow. All four would soon realize the gravity of their situation, yet Aurora still argued over Eli’s refusal to investigate the house, referring to him as a ‘pussy’. Now, it was Jackson who turned to them, demanding they stop. His words, however, were not as polite as those Maya chose.

As Aurora and Eli’s voices quieted, Maya stood near the front of the RV, carefully scanning the area. Although she saw no movement, she talked herself into believing that everyone in the town was likely dead. In such a small town, people tend to be closer—almost family. And with Cle Elum being rather compact, its people lived especially close to each other, allowing for the rapid spread of what seemed to be killing nearly everyone. This thought gave Maya enough comfort for her to be to investigate the house, but as she made her way down the driveway, something else occurred to her. The nearest hospital was in Tacoma and if it had been overrun with the sick and dead, the people of Cle Elum may not have been able to get there. Many of the townspeople may have died in the comfort of their homes and may still be tucked away in their beds.

Reaching the head of the driveway, Maya approached the back door and quietly, turning the knob, gently pushed it open. Although she expected the house to be empty, it was fear that prompted her to make a stealthy advance. Stepping into the kitchen, she released the door only for it to crash against its wooden frame, startling her into a silent panic. Taking a few moments to steady her nerves, Maya proceeded into the house. The silent air rang in her ears with an almost painful clatter, producing a deep humming in her head. Looking around every corner, she studied each room for anything that could ring the bells of warning—an elongated lump under a blanket on a couch or bed. Even the smell of decay would be enough to send her running back to the RV. So far, there was nothing—no bodies, no odors beyond that of a musty smell that seemed to permeate everything. The house was, in fact, in perfect order, and with no explanation as to where its occupants were, its orderliness and stillness triggered a deep fear of the unknown eating away at Maya’s mind. In spite of this, she continued her search. Occasionally stopping to breathe out the tension that was repeatedly clouding her faculties, she found the stairs leading up to the second floor. Assuming the bedrooms would be here, Maya ascended with both caution and fear. As she climbed the stairs, she sniffed at the air for anything resembling decomposition, but was able to detect only the musty scent of an old house.

Maya soon determined the house to be abandoned but as a precaution continued wandering, searching through closets, cabinets, and anything large enough to conceal a body—whether dead or alive. She wasn’t sure what she was willing to deal with—the chance of being infected by the dead or being attacked by the living. Returning to the second-floor hallway, Maya glanced up at the ceiling and, seeing a trap door, considered investigating the attic. But observing it to be locked, she felt comfortable with the decision not to go up into a place that would likely frighten her with its clutter and drifting shadows. No, she would definitely not go up into the attic. However, she did feel the need to walk down into the cellar—assuming there was one. But to her relief, Maya was unable to find a door. It then came to her that, being in the mountains, the entire town had been built on solid rock. Finally completing her search, Maya walked into the living room and, sitting on the couch, breathed a sigh of relief. Four former graduate students, who for the most part got along quite well, would soon occupy the house. Closing her eyes, she was finally able to decompress, but as the moments slipped by, Maya was suddenly startled by a scratching sound coming from within the wall behind her.

“What the fuck is that?”

Springing to her feet, she turned toward the wall and leaning over tapped on it, only for its dull sound to return as continued scratching. Although she had spent a great deal of time in college, Maya knew the sound of a mouse when she heard it. But this was not seen as anything serious unless, of course, they somehow managed to escape the wall and move in as roommates with the new residents.