Black River Falls by Jeff Hirsch(62)

There was so much blood. Throbbing red in the porch lights. There were streaks of it against the wall behind you and a growing pool on the floor.

“Dad still had the knife in his hand when he came out onto the porch. He and Tennant gave each other the weirdest look, like they were strangers, and then Dad ran off down the street. Mom and I got to Tennant at the same time. He was so pale. It got really quiet, and then there was this sound of wind chimes coming from one of our neighbors’ yards. Tennant looked up at me and he whispered, We weren’t supposed to be here, before he closed his eyes.”

There was a long silence. My throat ached and my mouth was dry. I started restacking the Brotherhood comics.

“I don’t really remember much else about that night. I guess Mom must have gone for help, and that’s when she got infected. The next thing I knew, it was a day or two later. I was in Monument Park and they were gone.”

The sheets rustled as Hannah moved to the foot of the bed and laid down on her stomach.

“That wasn’t your dad,” she said. “He didn’t know what was happening to him. He was scared.”

“Everybody was scared.”

I lowered the comics into the bin and snapped the lid shut.

“What happened to him?”

“I heard the police caught up with him a few days later,” I said. “He’d ended up with some other guys and they all . . . they’re in prison somewhere outside Black River.”

“You haven’t tried to . . .”

I shook my head. Hannah touched my shoulder. It was gentle at first, tentative, but then her fingers tensed, pressing into my skin. The place where we touched bloomed with heat.

“Hannah . . .”

She wrapped her arms around me from behind and her forehead fell onto my shoulder. She was only there a second though before I felt her stiffen and start to move away. I reached up and grabbed her hand.

“Wait.”

“Card, we can’t be—”

“Don’t go,” I said. “Please.”

“It’s not safe. We—”

I pulled my mask down and kissed her. Hannah’s lips parted with a gasp. I tore off my gloves and took her face in my hands. Her skin was warm and soft.

“Card,” she breathed.

“It’s all right,” I said. “It’s done.”

I kissed her again, and this time she didn’t back away, so I took her by her shoulders and slid her off the bed and into my lap. Her fingertips dug into my back, and mine tangled in her hair. Tremors moved between us, and soon it was hard to tell whether they had started in her chest or mine. Time slipped away. No past, no future, only that moment, right then, with her.

Sometime later we leaned back from each other to catch our breath. She brushed the back of her hand against my cheek.

“How long until . . .”

“Eight hours,” I said. “Maybe ten. A little after dawn tomorrow, I guess.”

“Where do you want to be?” she asked. “When it happens.”

There was a framed picture on your desk. It was too dark to make it out, but I didn’t need to. I knew which one it was. It was the photo Dad took of him and Mom standing side by side, drenched in sweat and grinning madly, giving the camera a goofy thumbs-up. Just behind them was the side of a white moving van. Looking closely, you could see my hands reaching up into the van while you handed me a cardboard box. It was the day we moved to Black River.

“Anywhere but here.”





24


HANNAH AND I sat on the hill overlooking the park. Below us, hundreds of infected circled a bonfire. The hum of their conversation mixed with the smell of smoke and roasting meat.

“The Ferris wheel was your idea, wasn’t it?”

I looked away from the fire and found Hannah watching me.

“It’s okay,” she said. “Greer told me. I was standing by one of the booths with Ren and Makela when he ran up and said, ‘Card said we should take a ride on the Ferris wheel. Just me and you. Together.’ He was all jumpy when we got on. Talking a mile a minute. But then we got to the top of the wheel, and our car stopped. It was so beautiful, with the lights and all the people, that it even shut him up. Before we got moving again, he leaned over and kissed me.”

She drew her legs up to her chest, hugging them.

“It lasted about two seconds before we both started laughing. He said he didn’t know if he had any cousins, but he was pretty sure that kissing me was like kissing one of them. I told him I’d rather be kissing Snow Cone.”

She smiled a little at the memory.

“Every time I close my eyes, I want to be back there at the top of the Ferris wheel, but I end up on the bridge instead. Was it like that with you and . . .”

I nodded. She moved closer and laid her head on my shoulder.

“Does it get better?”

“Sometimes it goes away for a while,” I said. “But it always comes back.”

“Not for much longer, I guess,” she said. “Not for you.”

“Yeah. I guess.”

A few guys managed to bring down a small tree at the edge of the park. The crowd cheered as they dragged it over and hauled it up onto the fire, branches and leaves and all.

“Who was he really?” Hannah asked. “Before.”