Monster Nation(36)



Kirsty Lang on the BBC World News channel, looking grave while a xylophone played a rising crescendo: 'Growing fears in America tonight as the Epidemic spreads to the Pacific Northwest. Our Reginald Forless is in Spokane tonight where city officials and law enforce''

A reporter with his head down in front of a line of cars, their headlights washing out his features as they passed in slow motion: ''scene of chaos behind me, this small town where nobody ever went anywhere has been mobilized tonight. Evacuees are heading south, toward San Diego, and''

Two balding men faced each other in oversized chairs, their ties undone: ''can't just disregard what the Army is saying, they have the people and the equipment to''

'Bullshit! That thing we just saw was dead!'

Emeril LaGasse came running down a set of stairs, his fists pumping in the air, a towel over the shoulder of his chef whites. 'Tonight we're talking tenderloin, we're talking beef bourguignon, and look at this cabbage, huh? Look at it! I'm makin' a slaw!'

Charles sprawled across the bed, with his shirt off, one foot waving back and forth in an agitated rhythm. 'Nothing f*cking on,' he moaned, but he didn't switch off the television. 'How do you get the porn and shit? You know what I'm saying?'

In a corner Shar squatted against the wall and held one hand over her ear. The other held the handset of a princess phone. 'Mom? I can't get through to Uncle Phil. Well how many times have you tried? Me? I'm safe, I'm in some kind of motel''

'Don't you f*cking tell her where we are!' Charles shouted. His skinny arms raised like sticks to bat at her but he didn't sit up.

Nilla sniffed one of her armpits and winced at the stale smell there. Not body odor, necessarily. Something fouler. 'I'm going next door,' she said. She stepped out into a night full of bugs that batted suicidally against the one light over the motel's parking lot. Charles' Toyota was the only car parked there'the owners must have deserted the place and turned on the no vacancy sign on their way out. If they hadn't been so lost Nilla and the kids would have passed right by it.

Luckily the owners had forgotten to lock the doors when they left, too. In the peace and quiet of an empty room Nilla sat down on the bed with its over-starched coverlet and stared at the useless telephone, wishing she had someone to call. God, no point in dwelling on that, she decided, and pulled the baby tee off over her head. The sleeves stank and she wondered if she could rinse it out in the sink with shampoo. She looked down, checking her skin, and noticed a green discoloration on her abdomen, right above her tattoo. It must be dye from the cheap shirt, she thought, even though it was the wrong color. She got up and went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. She stepped out of her baggy pants and saw that the discoloration was on her crotch, too. With a handful of soap she tried to scrub it off but it wouldn't budge. She moved into the shower and tried again with the motel's washcloth. Nothing.

There was a fog-resistant shaving mirror mounted in the shower and she studied her face. The bruising under her eyes had spread until she looked like a raccoon. Or a goth chick wearing too much kohl. She had a bad pimple on her cheek but it wasn't ready to pop. She wondered if she should shave her legs and realized that the hair there had stopped growing. That couldn't be a good sign.

She was still checking herself out when she heard the door of her room open and Charles came trooping in. He had a can of soda in either hand. 'Hey,' he said, 'Shar thought you might want some''

He stopped in mid-thought. His face opened up in a kind of half smile that made him look very, very stupid. He was staring at her but not in the malevolent way the people of Lost Hills had stared at her.

She looked down and saw that she had come out of the shower to greet him but she had forgotten to put her clothes back on. Water dripped from her elbows and her chin and splashed darkly on the ivory shag of the carpet.

What the hell? Had she forgotten all about modesty when she forgot her name? Or was her brain just breaking down, was she not making the necessary connections?

She suddenly felt very alone and very afraid.

'I guess I should'' he grinned, 'I mean Shar wouldn't''

He was stalling. He wanted her and that meant everything. It meant she was still whole and healthy and desirable. It meant he didn't see a monster when he looked at her but a woman, a human being full of vibrant life. She took a step closer and grabbed his hand. She couldn't believe what she was doing but she needed it, so much.

Wellington, David's Books