Tomorrow Land Part 9

"And keep out the Others," added the third.

"Who's going to read us stories?" asked little Sunshine, the brunette next to Darla. She stuck a grubby thumb in her mouth.

"Oh, please," Red said, rolling his eyes. "Who cares about stories?"

"I do," Darla growled, grabbing Sunshine's hand and giving Red the evil eye.

Starr poked the little boy. "And you do too, Red," she reminded him, "even though you're too cool to admit it."

"Red likes stories, Red likes stories," the triplets began chanting.

"Shut up!" With a cry of fury, Red lunged at them. The three fought back. Soon they were a tangled ma.s.s on the floor.

Peyton held up her hands in protest. "Enough!" she cried. "There's already been far too much violence today. I don't need it coming from you guys too."

The fighting subsided. Eight pairs of eyes settled back on her. Great. Now what? she thought, frustrated. Where was Chase?

"Look," she said, "I know this is difficult. I know Tank was like a father to you guys and his death is a huge deal. But bad things have happened before, right? And you've gotten through them okay. You'll get through this, too. I promise."

"Will you stay with us?" asked Sunshine, pulling her thumb from her mouth. "Will you cook for us?" Her sky-blue eyes swallowed Peyton whole. "Will you tell us stories?"

Peyton cringed. How did one explain to a seven-year-old that you were one of the last people in the world and had a very important mission-one that could be humanity's only salvation? How could you explain to eight children that they were less important than however many others had survived and needed to be rescued?

Of course, who could be sure how many others had actually survived? For all Peyton knew, these eight children were the only ones left. She looked over the band of ragam.u.f.fins, with their dirty, makeup-stained faces and ridiculous outfits. What would her dad say? Stop being so sentimental! You have more important things to do than babysit. Or would he understand that these children were a future she could see and could bet on? Would he give her dispensation to delay her task a few days?

She exhaled, realizing there was no easy answer. In the meantime, there was one thing she could do: make life go on. As normally as possible in a situation like this.

"Okay, guys," she said. "Who's hungry? Let's get some food in you. After we've eaten, those of you who aren't too grown-up for stories are in for a treat."

When Chase woke up, it was still night. The full moon cast eerie shadows on the rusted cars in the Walmart parking lot, and he was lying next to Rocky's grave, which he'd dug next to Tank's. He remembered how Rocky used to annoy Tank with his constant silliness and hoped his brother would forgive him for burying them side by side.

He scrambled to his feet, realizing how stupid he'd been. He'd come outside alone, his mind addled by grief, and dug two graves right in the open where any wandering Other could put him on the dinner menu. Then, to make matters worse, he'd taken drugs and pa.s.sed out. Brilliant. He was going to make an stellar leader.

He headed back to the Walmart, his body and mind still hazy from a mixture of sleep and Vicodin. He'd been stupid to take the pills. They'd made him even more careless than usual. His brother had given him c.r.a.p for his lackadaisical nature in the past, but this was inexcusable. He had children to take care of. He had to be responsible. And that meant getting over his pain in other ways. He had to throw out the drugs and start over. Become the man he was supposed to be. One who had no difficulties leading a brood of crazy children on a zombie-plagued wilderness trek to Disney World.

Sounded great.

Still, from here on out he'd be stone-cold-sober Chase.

Starting tomorrow. Tonight he needed more sleep.

He made sure there was nothing dangerous around before he let himself back inside the Walmart, then wandered through the quiet store, flashlight in hand, looking for the kids. Finally he found them, all curled up and sound asleep in a pile of pillows and blankets around Peyton's feet. They were in the Home section. And they looked so innocent lying there, as if they didn't have a care in the world. He wondered what she'd said to them.

At first he a.s.sumed Peyton was asleep as well, but then she shuffled and stirred, crawling out of her sleeping bag and motioning him to follow her away from the circle of sleeping children.

"Where the h.e.l.l have you been?" she demanded, her face twisted into an angry scowl. They were out of earshot of the kids. "They've been asking about you all night. I think half of them believe you're dead, too."

Chase stepped back, startled. He'd forgotten they hadn't parted on good terms. To make things worse, he'd promptly gone off and pa.s.sed out, leaving her stuck with the kids. Kids he'd promised Tank he would protect.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I was... burying the dead."

She gave him a suspicious look. Not that he blamed her. He'd been gone much longer than would be necessary for that. But he wasn't about to admit to accidentally pa.s.sing out from pills. She wouldn't understand, and that'd just make things worse.

"You've been gone a long time. Must have been some funeral."

Chase glared at her, annoyed. "I needed some time. I'm sorry. He was my brother, you know."

She softened, looking embarra.s.sed. Part of him breathed a sigh of relief.

"Well, I fed the kids. And I got them to sleep," she said, motioning to the brood. "I'm going to be leaving really early in the morning. I didn't know if you wanted me to say goodbye now so I didn't wake you."

Panic slammed through him. He hadn't thought she'd leave so soon. It was true she'd had this plan beforehand, but after the killings... He hadn't even had time to b.u.t.ter her up to agree to his plan!

"About that," he said. The words sounded awkward in his mouth. This was going to come out all wrong and he knew it.

She stared at him.

"I was thinking... I mean, with Tank gone and all... there's really nothing here for us at the Walmart," he began, struggling to explain. "And, obviously, it's no longer safe. So, I was wondering if... maybe, if you wouldn't mind-"

"Oh, no. No way."

He stared at her, surprised. He'd figured she'd at least agree to think about it. But the look on her face made him think she'd rather eat a live zombie than consider what he was about to suggest.

"What?" he asked, unable to keep the annoyance out of his voice. "You don't even know what I'm going to ask."

"You're going to ask if you and the kids can tag along with me."

Ah. "Okay, fine, maybe you do know," he replied. "But you haven't heard my argument yet as to why it'd be a good idea."

"I don't need to hear it. It's not a good idea. In fact, it's a very bad idea," she said. Her voice was quiet.

"But why?"

She made a pained face. "I'm sorry. It's just... well, I have... a schedule to keep," she said. "I need to get down there quickly, and there's no way I can do that if I'm dragging a bunch of kids along. Maybe if it were just you... maybe. But even then..." She trailed off, and he realized she was trying not to be insulting and was finding it difficult. Did she find him to be such a pathetic tool-fine to use when she needed stuff, but easily dumped afterward? It was just like old times. She hadn't changed a bit.

"Oh, I see." He gritted his teeth. "I forgot. You're better than us. You're all cyber chick, what with your implants and stuff."

"You don't understand..." He could see the apology in her face, but he was too angry to accept it.

"Oh, I understand perfectly, don't you worry. And don't let me stop you. I can take care of these kids by myself. Maybe we'll take our own little field trip to Disney. We don't need you to play tour guide."

She frowned. "That's a bad idea. It'd be dangerous."

"And it isn't for you? Please. You, Super Girl, have been out and about in this brave new world for exactly one afternoon. You may be all rawr-rawr razor-hands girl when it comes to hand-to-hand combat, but do you know anything about surviving day to day? Do you know when the Others are most likely to hunt, or that their eyesight is weak and how to take advantage of that? Did you know that they hate high-pitched noises and that whistles can sometimes save your life? I make sure the kids always have them when we go outside. Are you going to take one? And how about the fact that sometimes they work together, a small one baiting you into the open before a larger one jumps out of the shadows?"

"No. I didn't know any of that," she said quietly, bowing her head.

"No, of course you don't!" he cried, triumphant until he realized she had just admitted it, which stole a tiny bit of his thunder. But he had to continue. "So while you may be stronger, faster and deadlier, out there by yourself, you're also probably going to be lunch by the third day. And then none of that cyber strength will matter."

"You're right."

He looked at her sharply. "What?"

She raised her chin. "You're totally right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound insulting. I was just worried about time. I don't have much time to get there."

"What's the deal with this not-much-time thing?" he asked. "I mean, you've waited four years. What's the hurry now?"

She paused, looking pained. "Let's just say that I'm... sick. The nano computers inside of me, the ones that make me stronger and faster-well, they're not working right. They're malfunctioning. Breaking down for some reason. And as time pa.s.ses I'm going to get weaker. Eventually I'll be so weak that I won't be able to walk." She looked miserable admitting her secret. That she wasn't as tough she pretended to be.

"What about once you get there?" he asked, hating how anxious his voice sounded. A moment ago, he never wanted to see her again. Now he couldn't shake the image of her breaking down... all alone in the wilderness. Her systems failing, one by one. Her once-strong, able body no longer able to lift itself. She was ready to die alone. But he wasn't ready to let her.

"My dad would have the technology to fix me. He could cycle my blood and get rid of the nanos and make me as good as new. But I have to get there first. And the sicker I get, the more I break down, the less chance I'll have to make it." She paused, then added, "Hence the hurry."

Chase felt like an idiot. No wonder she didn't want to take them along. It wasn't about her being selfishly unwilling to commit to him and the kids; it was about staying alive. He kept picturing himself standing in the rain, waiting for her all those years ago, but he didn't know what had happened back then. Maybe she'd had a good reason for that, too. Maybe it was something he could ask her. Maybe... but not now.

"Okay," he said. "I get it. I'm sorry for what I said before. I was just... well, it's been a long day, to say the least. Anyway, I think we can help each other out here. Sure, we might be a little slower with the kids, but at the same time, you're getting some travel insurance. I'd make sure, no matter what, you got to Disney World so your dad can fix you. h.e.l.l, I could carry you or something, worst comes to worst. We'll protect each other from wandering Others. I mean, on your own there's no guarantee that you'll make it in time, anyway. This way you know you'll have your own personal bodyguard to keep you safe. One without a ticking time bomb inside him."

She seemed to consider this for a moment. "What about the kids?" she asked.

"Well, they have to come. I mean, I promised Tank. And I wouldn't just leave them, would you? But we'll make sure they behave and don't get in the way. And we'll grab those horses. The kids all know how to ride. We can just head down Route 95 on horseback. It'll be easy." He found himself full of a new enthusiasm he hadn't felt in years. Her next words dimmed that a little.

"Easy?"

"Fine. Maybe 'easy' is overstating just a tad, but it'll work. You'll see. Seriously, I think it's the only way."

She paused, but only for a moment. "Okay."

"Okay?" He couldn't believe it. She was really going for his idea?

"Okay, let's do it," she said. "But we have to move as quickly as possible. We'll gather our supplies tonight, leave first thing in the morning. Even if I do now have you watching my back, I would still rather make it to our destination before things get bad for me."

At that moment she could have requested the moon and Chase would have agreed. He was just so happy not to be left alone with the kids. To have a chance to spend more time with her. "No problem. I'll stay up all night if I have to. This will be great. You won't regret it."

On impulse, he threw his arms around her in a hug. She felt a bit stiff. He remembered how once upon a time she'd melted into his embrace, her body soft and supple and willing. Would it ever be that way again?

He knew he shouldn't want it. Better to keep their relationship on a professional level. After all, she'd betrayed him once. And whether she explained herself or not, she'd made it very clear what her priority was now. Better for him to just keep away. Getting emotionally involved would just open old wounds.

Still, he thought as she disengaged, watching her walk away and curl up inside her sleeping bag, her blond hair spilling out onto her pillow, part of him believed the teen G.o.ddess he'd once worshipped might be worth it.

Chapter Fifteen.

Several teachers were absent the next day at school. Some kind of flu was going around, the princ.i.p.al said over the loudspeaker. Chris tried to tell himself that it was all a coincidence; a sick old lady and a few ill teachers didn't equal killer plague. But something was still making him uneasy. Peyton's dad's words kept echoing in his ears. The End of Days. That seemed so ridiculous. So why couldn't he get the concept out of his head?

There was something else he couldn't get out of his head as well. Make that someone else. He hadn't been able to sleep a wink last night, tossing and turning, replaying that moment on Peyton's neighbor's stone wall. He'd been literally millimeters away from kissing the G.o.ddess herself and-shock of all shocks-the G.o.ddess had seemed willing. At the very least, she hadn't punched him in the face. (He'd seen Drew's nose this morning and had a good laugh.) But, of course, nothing had happened. Par for the course in his sorry life. Her dad had called, ruined the moment. He remembered how Peyton had leapt away. That hasty goodbye-she couldn't get away from him fast enough. He'd never, ever get her in that position again and he knew it. Not Chris Parker, super dork.

"Hey, Chris, did you see that crazy post on the forums about the Super Flu?"

Speaking of dorks. Chris looked up to see his best friend Stephen nearby, attempting to pry a sim deck out of his overstuffed, undersized locker.

"What post?" he asked. Like him, Stephen was a total forum troll, always looking through the lesser-known, unmonitored message boards for information. "I didn't log on last night." He'd been too busy dreaming about Peyton. Sweet, beautiful, almost-kissed Peyton. He hadn't even done any further research on Mrs. McCormick. He felt a brief pang of guilt at his selfishness.

"It's all over the place. People are sick, guy. Like, really sick. The hospitals are supposedly overflowing, especially in the big cities like New York. The government is trying to keep it on the down-low, obviously. Not wanting to start a panic, you know. But it's big news. They say you can even die from it. Especially if you're, like, an old person and stuff."

Chris stared at him, his creeping worry returning with a vengeance. So, he'd been right; there was something weird about this sickness. He thought about Mrs. McCormick. The cleaners. Peyton's dad's warning. "For real?" he asked, hoping that maybe Stephen might be pulling his leg. "You're not messing with me?"

His friend shook his head. "Well, it's on all the forums. Log on and see for yourself."

"Yeah, I will when I get home." The school blocked any kind of non-government sanctioned websites, of course.

"It's flecking scary, let me tell you," Stephen continued, slamming his locker shut. "It's like End of Days stuff, some folks are saying."

Chris was startled. "What did you say?"

"You know, the apocalypse. Everyone dying of some plague. The end of the human race as we know it," Stephen replied with a c.o.c.ky grin. "On the plus side, maybe we'll get zombies. Usually when this kind of thing happens in the movies, they get zombies."

"Oh yeah, zombies would be stellar," Chris agreed. He and Stephen had a special fondness for old horror movies-the old George Romero ones in particular. Still, given the circ.u.mstances, the thought wasn't as funny as it might have been.

Stephen stuck his hands out and purposely stumbled off down the hall, moaning. "Brains... brains..."

Chris laughed appreciatively. "Yeah," he said, slapping his friend on the back. "I agree. You could use some brains. Especially if we're stuck living through Armageddon. You wouldn't want zombies to kill you and find there's nothing to eat."

Peyton was just about to jump on the bus home that afternoon when she heard someone calling her name. Turning around, she saw Chris waving to her furiously from the school doorway. Their eyes met. Ugh. Now she had to go talk to him. She felt really weird doing so after what had almost happened yesterday. What if he wanted to pick up where they'd left off? She wasn't ready to deal with that. Especially not after the day she'd had at school. Drew, as expected, had gone out of his way to make her a social outcast and it hadn't been fun. Especially through lunch. If Avery hadn't stuck by her side, she didn't know what she would have done.

Still, Chris had been really nice to her yesterday and managed to cheer her up when she was at her lowest. And, of course, her mother had taught her not to be rude to anyone no matter what. So, reluctantly, she stepped off the bus and headed over to where he was standing.

He'd better have something important to say, though. She'd miss the early bus.

"What's up?" she asked.

He held out his deck. "I went home during lunch and did a little research," he said. "And I found out there's some weird Super Flu going around."

"Super Flu?" she repeated, her mind snapping back to Mrs. McCormick. The blood on her tissue.

"Yeah. People are getting really sick all over the world. Most metropolitan hospitals are packed and there have been a ton of deaths." He handed her his device. "Look. It's all there."

She scanned the doc.u.ments he'd linked. It certainly seemed like he was right. Things were bad if these reports were to be believed. She thought about her dad's warnings. They were starting to feel uncomfortably relevant. But if this were true, why hadn't they heard more about it here in Monroeville? Sure, they weren't a bustling metropolis, but still, she would have thought they'd have heard some whispers at least. Then again, with the government in control of the media, sometimes real news traveled very slowly.