Tomorrow Land Part 14

He walked the perimeter of the camp, frustrated. Did she really see him as so pathetic? So weak? He'd bent over backward trying to make things better for all of them, and it was as if she didn't even notice. And no matter what he said, he couldn't seem to get through to her. After that first kiss, she'd completely turned off. Radio silence. It was like traveling with a robot. She avoided him, preferring the company of the d.a.m.n kids. He could hear them laughing behind him on the road, making inside jokes that only they understood. It wasn't fair. They were his kids. Well, sort of his kids. He'd certainly known them longer. But lately they all seemed to prefer Peyton to him.

Maybe it was the pills. He'd started upping his daily dosage to deal with the pain of his cheek. He'd figured when the pain went away-or he ran out of his stash--he would quit taking them again. Still, they left him groggy and lethargic and not a h.e.l.l of a lot of fun to be around. Some days he could barely stay on his horse. Luckily, with everyone ignoring him, he could get away with it.

If only Tank were here. Chase missed his brother like crazy, and every day it got worse. He missed their casual banter. Tank's amazing way with the kids. If there were any justice in the world, Tank would be here now, leading everyone to Florida-not stupid, irresponsible Chase, who was flying by the seat of his pants, making it up as he went. No wonder the kids didn't talk to him.

He'd promised to protect the children, to get them to somewhere safe. Now he had to make good. And he had no idea how that was supposed to happen.

After all, he'd never been able to save anyone else.

He thought about his adopted sister. Her gap-toothed smile. Her high-pitched giggles. He'd been supposed to protect her from all the danger. Instead, he'd left her alone. It had just been for a few minutes, but that was all it took. A vision of her broken body, lying backstage, blood seeping out of her thousand bites, slammed through his brain. He swallowed a lump in his throat that felt attached to his heart.

Yes, Tara had believed in him and he had let her down. Now here he was again, thrust into another position where he was expected to protect the innocent. What if he failed? Tara's face faded and in its spot he saw Darla. Then Sunshine. They were bloodied and bruised and it was totally his fault.

He shook his head, a feeble attempt to keep the inner darkness at bay. He fingered the pill bottle in his pocket, desperately wanting another dose. But the last score had been a small one, and he'd had to take more and more medication these days to get results. He needed another score like the government lab one he'd once found. The high-grade stuff that was built to last for years.

A sudden thought occurred to him. What if he couldn't find another batch? What if what he had in his pocket was everything left in the world? His hands shook as he pulled the bottle out for another look. Were these his last pills? Would he have to stop taking them after they were gone? How on Earth was he going to function sober?

Panic throbbed through his veins as he popped open the top, and he felt like he was going to throw up. It would be fine, he told himself. He'd make up some excuse tomorrow to have the party wait for him while he went "hunting and foraging." Peyton would never know, just as Tank had never known. He'd travel until he hit some pharmacies or houses, stock up good and then he'd be okay. When he came back he'd just say he hadn't been lucky finding game. The plan would work.

And for now, he'd just take one. Just one pill wouldn't do much. After all, these were super weak. One pill would calm him down and he'd be able to stay up and guard the group without feeling so freaked out. It was in everyone's best interest.

He upended the bottle. Two pills fell out. He'd only take one. Except he took two. But they were weak. No big deal. He dry-swallowed them, feeling a sense of peace wash over him as they scratched down his throat. He'd be okay. He'd find more tomorrow. And tonight he'd keep Peyton and the children safe. Tank was gone, and Chase was the main man now. But that was okay. He could do it.

No big deal. He'd just close his eyes for a second, then make another circle of the perimeter.

Chapter Twenty-three.

"Hi, honey, how was school?"

Peyton's mom's smile seemed strained as she set colorful plates down on the dinner table in preparation for supper. Dad was down in the bas.e.m.e.nt again, not surprisingly. He'd been down there almost constantly for the last week, ever since Peyton told him about the monster in the dumpster. When she'd questioned him later, when he came back from checking it out, he claimed to have seen nothing. Nothing but dead bodies, stacked high. He said perhaps the shock of that nightmare itself was enough to make Peyton's mind go a little crazy. To cause her to see something that wasn't actually there.

But Peyton knew what she'd seen and it was no hallucination. And the fact that her dad wouldn't meet her eyes made her suspicious that he knew more than he'd tell. But try as she might, she couldn't get him to say anything more on the subject. Eventually she dropped it. But still, she found herself every day looking in the shadows, searching. Just in case. It wasn't something she could just forget about.

"Good, I guess, considering half the teachers are out with the Super Flu," Peyton replied to her mother, plopping down in a chair. "They combined all our cla.s.ses in the school auditorium with the one healthy guy left teaching. The sim-gym teacher! It's ridiculous. I don't know why they're bothering. They should just shut down."

"Well, you still need an education," Ashley Anderson said, carefully placing each fork, spoon and knife in its place.

"What good is an education if we're all going to keel over and die?"

Her mother dropped a spoon, and it clattered to the floor. She squatted to collect it, then walked over to the sink. After tossing the utensil in, she reached for her pills. Peyton sighed. She'd noticed her mother's hands were shaking and wondered how many happy pills she'd already swallowed that afternoon. It had been a disconcerting development the first time she'd seen her mother take the medication, but gradually it had seemed more normal. A lot of people were running scared these days and overmedicating.

The Super Flu hadn't stayed a hidden epidemic for long; it was too deadly and spread too quickly for any government intervention to help. By the end of the week it had been all over the news. People were urged to stay home and lock their doors. Close their windows. They'd been a.s.sured this would help keep the disease from spreading.

What people had done instead was either: a) pretend nothing strange was happening, b) dose like crazy on psych meds, or c) take the opportunity to stick it to the Man. News of looting was becoming more and more common. Shopkeepers-those who were still actually going to work-had taken to keeping illegal guns behind their counters. Last week three people had been shot.

Oh, and then there was the d) option: preparing for the worst. Some were stockpiling food and water and medicine in a desperate attempt to keep their families safe. Food prices had gone through the roof, as no one was driving the delivery trucks. Many stores that had once boasted overflowing shelves were now closing after running out of stock.

Peyton didn't know which option was smartest, but she knew going to school and packing into a gym to be taught by the sim-sports coach was something of a joke. Of course, she supposed the government had to keep the children busy somehow. While adults were dying in droves, not a single person under the age of eighteen had yet been reported as sick.

"I need you to go to the store, Peyton," her mother said, rummaging through the kitchen cabinets. "Debbie told me they might be trucking in some fresh produce today."

Peyton groaned. After a long day at school, the last thing she wanted was to stand in line for three hours, waiting for a delivery that probably would fail to show. But what else could she do? Fresh fruits and vegetables were the one thing you couldn't stockpile. Her mother had taken to canning them and drying them whenever she could, and her father had brought home several batches for just that purpose. Peyton didn't want to ask where he'd gotten them.

"Okay," she agreed, grabbing her bag. "I'll be back in ten hours."

She headed outside. The neighborhood was quiet. No kids were playing outside. No cars were leaving their driveways. But she could feel the weight of eyes upon her, watching from behind drawn curtains. The people here were home. Waiting. Watching. Too scared to leave.

Peyton decided to swing by Avery's house on the way to the market. Maybe she could convince her friend to come with her. Having someone along would cut down on the boredom of waiting in line at the very least. And Avery's family likely needed some produce as well.

She walked up to her friend's front door and rang the bell. No answer. Frowning, she rang a second time.

"It's me!" she called loudly, just in case they were worried about thieves. "Peyton."

The video monitoring system clicked on, and unseen eyes stared down at her. A moment later she heard a click and the door swung open. Avery's mother stepped out, closing the door behind her.

"You shouldn't have come here, Peyton," she said.

Peyton c.o.c.ked her head in confusion. "What? Why? I just wanted to see if Avery wanted to go get some produce with me. Supposedly there's going to be a big delivery today."

Avery's mom shook her head. "Avery's sick," she said, her voice shaking. "We... we think she's infected."

Peyton stared. "But... I thought kids weren't getting it," she said, confused. "I thought it was just an adult thing." Chills ran down her spine. It was now affecting kids, too? This was terrifying. Not that she hadn't been scared before, but...

Avery's mother shrugged wearily. "I don't know. But she's been running a high fever since she got home from school and... well, she's coughing. It's coming up blood. They... they say that's the first sign." The woman was clearly near a breakdown.

"Oh, G.o.d." Peyton shook her head and blinked away the tears that were flooding her eyes. "Can I see her?"

The woman shook her head. "No, sweetie," she said. "I don't think that's a good idea. You don't want to get sick, too."

In a daze, Peyton nodded. She knew the woman was right, even if avoiding the Super Flu at this point seemed next to impossible, no matter what her father claimed about her being immune.

"Well, tell her I said... hi," she murmured, not sure how else to end things. "And... and that I hope she feels better soon."

She could see the tears welling up in Avery's mother's eyes, and Peyton suddenly realized that Avery wasn't going to feel better soon. She wasn't going to feel better ever. She was going to die. Like the rest of the world was going to die.

"Take care, dear," Avery's mother said. "And be careful."

Peyton trudged down the front stairs of the house, tears streaming down her cheeks. Before this, she hadn't really known any of the victims. There was Mrs. McCormick, who'd begun it all, and her teachers had called in sick, but after that everyone who'd fallen ill was a stranger. All her friends at school were still fine. Her parents were fine-apart from her mother's sudden attraction to opiates. But now, to be best friends with someone who had the disease... Suddenly everything was feeling a lot more real.

Avery. Fun, sunshiney Avery. Champion virtual cheerleader. All-around great person. Sick. Probably dying. Just like everyone else.

Her dad was right. The end of the world was coming. And not with a whimper, but a major, big-a.s.s bang.

Chapter Twenty-four.

Peyton woke up to rain splashing her face. The wind was howling and the trees above her were swaying dangerously, their high branches looking as if they could break off and crash down at any moment. She crawled out of her sleeping bag, her heart pounding as she quickly a.s.sessed the scene. It had been such a beautiful day; where had the storm come from?

Lightning flashed across the sky, followed by a crack of thunder. Peyton couldn't believe the kids were sleeping through this. She ran from tent to tent, shaking them awake.

"Wake up!" she cried. "We have to find some shelter."

The kids groggily crawled out of their sleeping bags and out of their tents. Peyton looked for the horses, but they were nowhere to be seen. The thunder must have spooked them and caused them to break their tethers. They might not be far though; she could only see a few feet in front of her due to all the fog that had rolled in.

"Quick!" she told the children. "Grab what you can and head to the bathrooms."

Rest area bathrooms had never been the nicest facilities to visit. After the apocalypse they were even worse. But they couldn't stay out in this storm. As it was, the strong winds were practically toppling the little ones where they stood and the now abandoned tents were blowing away. And she had no weatherman to tell her how long the storm would last or how bad it would get. For all she knew this was a Category 5 hurricane and they were only on its outer edges.

They grabbed what they could, all the items drenched of course, and headed into the small rest-stop bathroom, located in the center of the parking lot. The place smelled to high heaven and the toilets were full of raw sewage bubbled up from burst pipes. But it was mostly dry, with only a few leaks in the ceiling. And the cement walls felt solid, keeping out the wind. She instructed the kids to lay out their bags and bedding to try to dry it out. They all looked like half-drowned rats. She did a quick count.

"Where's Chase?" Red asked, frowning. "Is he still out there?"

Peyton started. In her haste to get everyone inside, she'd forgotten about their night watchman. Why hadn't he woke them up at the first signs of the storm? They would have had an opportunity to find better shelter, before things got bad. And half of their supplies wouldn't be ruined.

She opened the bathroom door and a burst of wind practically knocked her backward. Using her lenses, she scanned the campsite, heart in her throat. Had something happened to him? Had he run into a monster before the storm even hit?

But then she caught his signal at the outskirts of camp. He was still warm, but not moving. She swallowed hard. Was he okay? Had he been hit by a fallen branch and knocked unconscious? She couldn't think of any other reason he'd be able to sleep through this mess.

As if on cue, the thunder boomed again. But Chase's silhouette didn't move. Peyton turned to the other children, who stared back at her with wet, worried faces. "I see him out there," she told them. "I'm going to go and get him and bring him back. No one move until I return. I'm serious."

The children nodded, gripping each other's hands. Peyton sucked in a breath and pushed her way outside. The wind had picked up in the short time since she'd woken and she was in a big fight to get to Chase. But she couldn't leave him out there.

Lightning slashed through the sky, hitting a tree, high above her. A large branch came crashing down, just inches from where she'd stood only a moment before. Had she not taken that last step, she would have been a goner. And Chase was a sitting duck.

She picked up her pace, trying to ignore the wind as she dashed to the spot where he lay. When she reached him, she gasped, thinking at first he was dead. His face was white as a ghost and he wasn't moving at all. But then she saw his eyebrow twitch. She breathed a sigh of relief. He was alive.

Dropping to her knees, she shook him with all her might, trying to wake him up. At first he refused to stir. Then he managed to open one eye, then the other. He looked at her, confused. Dazed. Uncomprehending his situation. What was wrong with him? Why was he so out of it? h.e.l.l, he was acting like her mom used to when she- It was then that Peyton saw the pill bottle in his hands. The same one he'd taken pills from the night she'd cut his face. She pried it from his fingers, scanning the label. Oh G.o.d.

"Peyton?" he asked, his voice sounding like it was underwater. "What's going on?"

She bit back her anger, her fury at how irresponsible he'd been. They had depended on him and he'd let them down. But there would be time for accusations later. Right now she needed to get him to safety.

"Can you walk?" she asked. Sometimes her mother had gotten so messed up her legs would refuse to work for several hours.

"Of course I can," he replied, starting to regain his wits.

"Then you'd better get over to the rest-stop bathroom," she told him, not able to hide the bitterness in her voice. "It's not safe out here."

He nodded, looking around as if discovering his surroundings for the first time. And maybe he was. After all, Peyton knew that particular prescription well. It was one of her mother's. And she knew what it could do when you found yourself in its grip.

"Don't forget your little pills," she muttered as he scrambled to his feet. She could see his face turn red as he looked down, realizing he'd been busted. She wondered for a moment if he would leave them behind in an effort to try to prove they were no big deal. But they were a big deal and soon he was reaching down to grab them as a bolt of lightning hit the ground only a few feet from where they stood.

"Run!" she cried.

The two of them dashed for the bathroom, running as hard as they could, this time with the wind at their backs. They made it back, pulling open the door and bursting inside. The other children were huddled together, looking up at their reappearance with relieved eyes. They jumped up and ran around Chase, hugging him and cheering, thankful their fearless leader was alive.

Peyton hung back, so furious she could barely speak. She couldn't believe she'd somehow found another addict. The very person who was supposed to be her rock, the one who promised to get her to Disney World even if he had to carry her on his back, was nothing more than a pill-popping junkie who had almost gotten them killed. What if the thunder hadn't woken her? What if a zombie had wandered into camp while they slept? It was bad enough that most of their camping supplies were most likely ruined. But someone could have been killed because of Chase's incompetence.

She remembered how he'd argued with her about the watch earlier that night. She'd given in, wanting him to know that she trusted him. But she shouldn't have trusted him. She'd never trust him again.

Chase left the children and walked over to her, a guilty look on his face. "I guess I screwed up," he said softly, so the others couldn't hear. "I guess I was more tired than I thought."

She scowled. He wasn't even going to admit the truth? But then, neither had her mother.

"Chase," she said slowly. "Do you have a drug problem?"

His face turned purple. "What? No. How could you ask me that?"

He sounded so much like her mother it was getting scary. "Because of the pills," she replied, keeping her voice even. "Because you took enough painkillers to sleep through a flecking hurricane."

She could see his hard swallow. His mind hard at work to craft a reasonable explanation. One that would make her leave him alone. "My face was killing me," he said at last, reaching up to the st.i.tched cut. "I thought maybe a painkiller would help, okay? I'm sorry. I didn't know it would make me pa.s.s out."

It could have been true. But she doubted it. Too many things were sliding into place. His strange mood swings. His secret "mission" when they'd first met. His lengthy disappearance after his brother had died. The signs had all been there, but she'd missed them, wanting so badly to be able to depend on another person. To be able to shed some of the control and trust someone else.

Well, those days were now over. She knew from now on, the only person she could rely on was herself. No more relaxing. No more letting someone else take control. It was her against the world until she finally found her father. He was the only one left she could depend on.

The birds were chirping the next morning from their perches on fallen branches. The storm had pa.s.sed through in the night and the sun shone down, as if apologizing for stepping away and letting nature do its worst. Chase helped the group hang their sopping sleeping bags up over makeshift clotheslines and sort through what food was still good and what had rotted from the rain. They'd probably lost half their supplies in the hurricane and he knew it was all his fault. At least the horses had come back-they would have been in big trouble if even one of them had gotten lost in the storm. That was something at least.

If only he hadn't taken those stupid pills. Peyton blamed him for all of this. And with good reason. His weakness had caused him to hurt the girl he loved, not to mention endangered the kids he'd been asked to protect. He'd slowed down their journey, too-there was no way they'd be able to leave the camp today, at least until everything dried out. In short, he'd done everything he'd promised he wouldn't. No wonder Peyton didn't want anything to do with him. He wasn't worthy of a girl like her.

He watched her from across the camp, doling out breakfast to the children. They all clamored around her, laughing and chattering about the crazy storm. And she was laughing right back, though he knew she must be furious inside. At having to delay. At having him screw everything up. But you could never tell it from how she handled the children. She knew that they depended on her and wasn't going to let them down, even though in reality they weren't her responsibility whatsoever.

How did she do it? How did she stay so strong? Was it her enhancements? Did they allow her to switch off the pain as well as turn on the power? Or was she just a better person than him? Able to put aside the hurt and focus on what needed to be done? If only he could be more like her.

He made a vow. From now on it'd be different. He'd be a man, live up to his responsibilities. Care for and protect the kids. He'd show Peyton he wasn't the weak, pathetic drug addict she thought him to be, but a strong, capable person who didn't let other people down. Who didn't let her down.

Feeling inspired, he approached her, just as she was doling out the last of the soup to the children. She looked at him warily. He supposed he deserved it.

"Can I talk to you?" he asked.

She hedged, looking around. "I'm kind of busy."