Black River Falls by Jeff Hirsch(7)
See, as soon as the quarantine came down, Black River became like a body that was dying one organ at a time. The tourist shops and art galleries closed first, then the grocery stores and the drug stores and the all-night diners. Last to go were the schools and churches. The National Guard and the charities had tried various kinds of resuscitation, but none of them worked. We were too far gone. No wonder Benny believed Isaac and Eliot when they told him Black River was haunted. In a town like this, there were bound to be ghosts somewhere.
By the time we hit Main, small bands of infected were coming out of every alleyway and side street, merging into a flood of people as they funneled toward the park. I tightened the straps of my mask and tried to get Greer’s attention, but he was talking to Astrid and Ren and they were laughing. How was that possible? How could they laugh in the middle of this?
It didn’t matter. I spun around, looking for the street that would take me away from the gathering mob, but was surprised to find myself lost. Hundreds of shifting bodies made streets and storefronts that had once been so familiar seem strange and distorted. My only choice was to fight against the tide and get someplace where I could think and breathe.
There was a split-second shift, and I saw through a gap in the crowd that Oak Street was practically deserted. I pressed the mask to my face and ran for it. The second I made it out of the throng, there was the blast of a horn, and then the same black truck from earlier came barreling down the street, inches from flattening me. I fell and my elbow crashed into the sidewalk, sending a thunderclap of pain up my arm. A man shouted at me from the back of the truck, and another laughed.
When they were gone, a second wave of infected rushed past, jostling and shouting. The world spun as I got up and stumbled away from them. I saw flashes of bodies, broken glass, cracked asphalt. I smelled smoke and heard what I thought were bells ringing. The next thing I knew, the crowds were gone and I was on my ass in an alleyway, bent knees in front of me, a greasy Dumpster wedged into my shoulder. Out on the street, teakettle voices screeched and wailed. I pushed myself deeper into the alley and tore off my mask so I could breathe. The air tasted sour and vinegary. My stomach flipped. I remembered what I told Benny, and I clawed through my memories, looking for someplace safe to hide. Most of them slipped away too quickly to get ahold of, but then I felt a snag.
Me and you. Our old bedroom in Brooklyn. Snow falling on the fire escape outside our window. Mom and Dad had gone to bed hours earlier. Once you were sure they were asleep, you slipped out into the living room. I lay there watching the snow and listening to the sound of you padding around in your socks. A desk drawer opened and closed, and then you flung yourself back into the room and shut the door.
“Tennant, what were you doing in Dad’s desk? He’ll freak if he finds out.”
“Dude!” you hissed. “Shut. Up.”
You fell into bed beside me, and a flashlight flared to life, moving down the length of your arm to the pages you held in your hand. The title was in black letters across the top.
CARDINAL AND THE
BROTHERHOOD OF WINGS.
“Whoa. Tenn, those are—we can’t.”
“It’s just us,” you said. “Besides, Mom and Dad named you after the main character. That gives you, like, a legal right to read it.”
I was about to refuse, but then you handed me the first page and it was like everything in the room vanished except for that rectangle of black and white. There they were. The towers of Liberty City shining in the sun. The Brotherhood’s Aerie. Sally Sparrow and Rex Raven soaring through a cloudless sky. We worked through that first issue page by page, warm under the covers while the snow piled up outside. We met Madame Night. Penny Dreadful. Kirzon Sloat and the Emerald Horde. It was like watching a whole new universe explode into existence right before our eyes.
“Hey! You all right?”
A woman’s voice tugged me back toward the alley. I didn’t open my eyes, didn’t look up. Whoever she was, I hoped she’d just go away. I wanted to be left alone, wanted to stay where I was, with you, but she didn’t leave.
“Kid?”
“I’m fine,” I said.
“Funny. You don’t look fine, hon.”
That voice. I lifted my head and opened my eyes. Sunlight poured around the silhouette of a woman standing at the mouth of the alley. She took a step forward.
It was Mom.
4
I?SAT UP SLOWLY and flattened my back against the wall.?My mask was sitting beside me, but something stopped me from putting it on.
“I’m okay,” I said. “Thanks.”
I’d spent three days after the outbreak searching for her, but this was the first time I’d actually seen her since that night. She was thinner than she used to be, and her skin was a deeper brown, as if she’d been spending a lot of time outside. I looked at her left hand and saw that her wedding band was gone. I tried to remember if she’d already stopped wearing it before the sixteenth.
The biggest change was her hair. Remember how when we were kids she’d always talk about ditching the chemicals and going natural? Well, she’d finally done it. It looked like she’d chopped it down to her scalp before letting it grow back. Since she was a quarantine away from any relaxer, it was coming in as a half-inch halo of tiny curls. It suited her, highlighting her big eyes and the sharp angles of her face.