The Night Parade(47)

“So where you from exactly?” Turk asked him.

David took too much time thinking of an answer. By the time he spit out, “Outside D.C.,” Turk was already smiling wryly to himself and shaking his head.

“Listen,” Turk said, leaning closer to David over the armrest of his chair. “The world’s a changed place, amigo. What’s happened in the past is in the past, you dig? I’ll only ask you one question and one question only.” He nodded toward the yard. “That really your little girl out there?”

“Yes.”

“All right. Then everything else is cake, my friend.”

“What happened here?” David asked.

“Ain’t it obvious? The Folly come through.”

“Yeah, but why did Goodwin get hit so hard? Things weren’t half this bad back home. There are still businesses open on the interstate and other cities seem like they’re doing just fine. Why’d you guys get it so badly?”

“God’s will,” Turk said. “What else could it be? We’ve stopped thinking on the whys of it some time ago. Ain’t no one we can blame. We just gotta make do.” He pointed due east. “Half the whole neighborhood went in just three days—boom, boom, boom. Jus’ like that. People got sick, started dying right in the streets. Most of ’em acting crazy when they went. That’s when people started picking up and leaving, but then the National Guard moved in and quarantined the place. Couldn’t get out and they weren’t lettin’ no one in.”

“I saw places like that on the news.”

“Yeah, well, what they don’t tell you is them guardsmen, they was all too afraid to come in here and lay down the law. They just stood on the other side of that fence and made sure no one walked out. Heck, they was just a bunch of scared kids themselves. But in here, in the thick of it, it was every man for his self. Martial law turned anarchy. After a time, they forced the evac and sent whoever was left to . . . well, to hospitals, supposedly, but I don’t believe that for a second.”

“No?”

“Where you gonna put up a whole town? Nearest hospital is T.J. Samson over in Glasgow, and they ain’t got the staff or the room for ever’body.”

“So, what do you think happened to them?”

Turk sucked on his cigarette, then blew rings into the air. “You don’t wanna know what I think, Dave.”

“Sure I do.”

He rubbed a hand across his shaved scalp. “Rounded up and sent to some test facility someplace, is my best guess. The evacuees were still healthy, or so they seemed, so I’m guessing the government’s prob’ly interested in why they’re still healthy. So now they’re test subjects. Guinea pigs. Sounds paranoid, but it’s what I believe.”

“You’re not the only one. I’ve read some articles about that recently.” But he wasn’t thinking about newspaper articles. He was thinking about Kathy.

“Yeah, well, I wasn’t going to let that happen to my family.”

“They didn’t force you to leave?”

Again, Turk gave him that strange sidelong glance, which David interpreted as a suggestion not to delve too deeply into what Turk and his family had had to do to survive.

“You mentioned someone named Solomon,” David said, redirecting the conversation. “How many other people stayed behind?”

“We’ve got three more staying with us,” Turk said. “Four, if you include Solomon. Then there’re those nutters down at the firehouse, like I mentioned earlier. Lord knows how many they’ve got in their ranks now. There’re more out there besides them, too, but like I said, you’d best want to steer clear of ’em.” Turk thumped an index finger against his cranium. “Some ain’t right in the head. You dig?”

“What’s your plan?”

Turk frowned. Behind the veil of cigarette smoke, he suddenly looked much older than he had when they’d first met out on the street. “Plan? What do you mean?”

“You can’t stay here forever,” David said.

“Why not?”

“Well—”

“We get everything we need from town. Don’t cost nothin’ ’cause there ain’t nobody there to charge us. Anything else we might need, we get in a car and drive there. The rest of the world’s still ticking. Mostly, anyways. Said so yourself.”

“What about your son? What about school?”

“Pauline schools him.”

“But those other people out there in town—the people at the firehouse and all the others. Heck, you stuck a gun in my face because you didn’t know who I was. This environment can’t be good for Sam in the long run.”

Turk laughed. “The long run? Just how much time you think this world has got, boy?”

David just stared at him. It was by no means a unique notion, but it troubled him to hear Turk espouse it in such a flippant manner. Worse still was the man’s apparent resignation to it—that they were all going to die in the end, and that no one would be spared this illness, so why fight it? They just sat there eating their hearty breakfasts and looted deserted stores and waited for the end.

“You can’t think like that,” David said. “We’re still healthy. Our kids are still healthy. Maybe there’s hope.”