Cruel World(103)

It charged.

He sprinted toward the bag and cane, snatching them up from the highway before pelting down to the ATV. More stilts were emerging from the streets of Ferry, their height dwarfed by the distance between them. He slid to a stop beside the Honda and dropped the bag before stooping to grip the top of the roll bar. He heaved with everything he had, muscles shaking and a groan coming from his chest.

The ATV rose and then tipped to settle on its wheels.

Quinn tossed the bag and cane into the back and swung into the driver’s seat. The stilt coming from the poultry farm had almost reached the edge of the property and the fence beyond. He hit the key, the engine sputtering once before grinding to life. He slammed the vehicle into drive and shot forward as the stilt leapt over the fence and climbed to the highway, its baritone cry overshadowing the howl of the motor.

He guided the Honda onto the highway and pressed the pedal to the floor. The engine whined for a moment and then hummed evenly, its speed increasing without a hitch. Quinn glanced back and saw the herd galloping behind him down the highway, all swinging, pale limbs and gnashing teeth. The Honda carried him up a short rise and then around a bend, the stilts disappearing from view.

He let himself sag in the seat, all his strength gone, washed away by the torrent of adrenaline that now receded. After another two miles, the sign for the Crowfoot County Recreation Building appeared, and he flipped on the headlights as he turned up the road and sped on.





Chapter 22



The Plague



Quinn withdrew the needle from the muscle of Alice’s calf.

“There. Now we’ll just have to watch it to make sure it takes care of the infection,” he said, rising to put the bottle of antibiotic away. Alice watched him, her face dappled by shadow and light from the fire that burned low in the hearth.

After arriving at the rec center, he’d waited in the middle of the drive, running a ball of string through pop cans he’d found in a large recycling bin behind the building. When he had enough made up to stretch across the open approach, he strung the trip wire between two trees, its center hanging six inches from the ground. All the other routes leading to the lodge were blocked by heavy brush and trees. If something came for them in the night, they’d hear it.

When he’d turned to go inside after one last walk around the building, the German Shepherd was sitting in the mouth of the hiking trail, no more than a mound of shadow amidst the growing night. He’d called to it, but the moment his voice rang out, it sprung away, vanishing in the undergrowth.

“That was really stupid of you to go,” Alice said, readjusting herself in the chair as she sorted through the first aid kit he’d brought back. “You’ll probably turn into one of those things now since you got scratched.”

“Yeah, maybe my looks will improve,” Quinn said, setting aside the cloth bag. He glanced at her until she finally dropped her gaze.

“I’m sorry. I appreciate it, but you didn’t need to go.”

“Really? Would you rather I chop your leg off at the knee three days from now with a hatchet we find in a barn somewhere?”

“God, you don’t have to be gross. I’m trying to say thank you.”

“Well, try harder,” Quinn said, pulling off his shredded shirt before donning a new one with the Crowfoot County symbol emblazoned across the chest. His anger simmered, heating his face, but when he looked at Alice, she was grinning. “What?” he asked.

“You look like such a tourist.”

Quinn opened his mouth and surprised himself by laughing. Alice chuckled too, and Ty raised his head from where he played in the far corner of the room, surrounded by four stuffed animals that had come from the gift shop. His new cane was by his side within reach.

“I am a tourist. Everywhere I go is the first time I’ve been there.”

“Even with everything, it must be kind of amazing for you,” Alice said. Quinn waited for a punch line. And when none came, he had a hard time answering.

“It is. As terrible as that sounds.”

“It doesn’t sound terrible at all. This isn’t your fault. You didn’t ask for this world to be waiting for you. You’ve got to appreciate beauty even in the worst places. I think the ones who survive will have to come to terms with that.” She looked away, into the fire and stared at it like an adversary, her gaze unwavering.

“I think I can do that,” he said.

“I think you’ve always been able to.”