4
A NIGHT RUN
Darwin and Teresa got out of the downtown area as fast as they could, following the edge of the bay, twitching at every shadow. The sun was setting as they neared Palo Alto before they felt comfortable enough to slow their pace. The wind had shifted and the strong smell of water washed across them. Still uncomfortable about being seen, they followed a small road, the water hidden off to their left. They’d been walking since noon and were still moving well into the night. By Darwin’s best estimate it had been at least ten hours since his escape. They—Paul—knew he was gone by now.
“We should stop for the night,” Teresa said. “We’re both exhausted.”
Darwin shook his head, stumbling on the rough road in the dark. “I want to get as far away from that place as I can. Just a little bit more. We won’t make the coast tonight, but I think it’s time to head that way. They may not expect us to keep going in that direction.” Their pace wasn’t the fastest as they moved through the hills. Anyone on horseback or riding a bike would be able to catch up with them, or get ahead of them, with ease. He knew for sure that Paul and his cronies had at least two bikes. Theirs.
He unconsciously picked up his speed and Teresa followed suit.
Neither of them had eaten since that morning. Hunger gnawed at his insides like an angry beast. Worse was the lack of water. Guzzling as much as his stomach could hold before his escape hadn’t been a solution. Eventually they would have to go into a town or a farmhouse and barter for food and water using Teresa’s skills as a healer, no matter how risky that would be. He had no doubt that word of a traveling healer and a scarred man would travel quickly, and if Paul was looking for them, they would be easy to find. The more they walked, the more Darwin realized a farm or town would never happen as the city seemed to crawl on forever.
The cover of night was helping them stay hidden, but it created problems of its own. A half moon appeared in the night sky, casting a dim glow on the ribbon of concrete, its fractured surface creating a speckled shadow that hid the deeper holes. Their pace slowed and they had both caught each other stumbling more than once.
“We can’t do this,” Teresa said. “We need to stop and try to get something to eat or drink.”
“I know.” Though the thick clusters of houses and empty businesses had fallen away, they had still seen pockets of light just off the road for the past few miles, and another one appeared ahead, flickering in the dark. From this distance it looked like a campfire, and it didn’t seem like there was any attempt to hide it. “We’ll take the next turn-off and head there, hope for the best, I guess.”
A squeak from the darkness behind them made Darwin turn his head and look. Before he finished the movement, something impacted his shoulder blade hard enough to spin him around. He grabbed at Teresa as he lost his balance, pulling her down with him. The sound of squealing brakes on a bike tire just ahead of him alerted him to what had happened. He jumped to his feet and faced the attacker in the dark. A bike clattered to the ground in front of them and the sound was echoed behind. He twisted sideways as Teresa stood, still unable to see who stood in the dark.
“That was an interesting trick you pulled.”
The voice floated out of the blackness. Darwin recognized Paul and didn’t respond.
“But you had to know it couldn’t be that easy. We’re not letting you go.”
A shadow rushed forward, barely visible in the night. Darwin pushed Teresa out of the way and raised a foot, kicking the attacker in the stomach. The impact twisted his hips and he hit the ground again. The attacker fell to his knees, gasping for air. Another shadow leapt closer, jumping on Darwin’s prone form, pinning his arms above his head.
Teresa’s voice floated from behind him. “Did you forget about me?”
Her arm swung into the side of Paul’s head, a chunk of asphalt gripped tightly, and he fell to the side with a surprised grunt. Darwin scrambled to his feet. Teresa dropped the block and grabbed Darwin’s hand, running into the ditch beside the road.
“The bikes!” Darwin said. “We need to get the bikes!”
The sound of feet scrabbling to gain purchase on the road made him change his mind. They had to get away. Teresa pulled him forward. The grass suddenly ended in another narrow ribbon of concrete, too narrow to be cracked and eroded though the grass had crept in from the sides. Portions of the starry sky were blocked from view . . . houses lining the side of the road. They dashed between the looming shapes, pausing at the far end to listen for the noise of someone following. All Darwin heard was the sound of his own ragged breath and that of Teresa beside him. Paul’s voice echoed between the houses.
“You’re not getting far, Darwin. There’s more of us than there are of you.”
More of them? Paul must have pulled extra people into his group. The Dance Master Darwin had slapped would have been a good place to start.
Darwin and Teresa crept backward into a small yard behind the house. Teresa tripped, landing on her back, the breath rushing out of her. He lifted her to her feet as she gasped for air.
The fires he had seen earlier were gone, blocked by the houses or the hills, but he knew the general direction they were in. He pulled Teresa along the line of a fence as Paul emerged from between the houses. They stood and stared at each other in the dark for a split second before Teresa jumped the fence. Darwin followed her.
The ground under Darwin’s feet changed from grass to the crunchy sound of gravel and back again before the next fence loomed out of the darkness. Teresa jumped to reach for the top board and it crumbled in her hands, the fence collapsing under her weight. She picked herself up and scrambled to her feet, Darwin hard on her heels. The already broken fence barely slowed Paul down.
He heard a horse neighing off to their right, away from where they had first encountered Paul. It had to be the encampment he’d seen earlier, the fire they had planned to go to. He veered in that direction, pulling Teresa along with him. The possibility of more people increased their chances of staying away from Paul, unless they were his people.
A horse and rider emerged from the night. He recognized the rider as the leader of the dance troupe at Paul’s compound.
A part of him felt good at being right, but he’d made a serious mistake.
The horse, quickly followed by another, charged toward them and they turned and ran. Their only hope was to lose them in the dark and jumble of fences and houses. There was no way they could outrun the Dance Master.
Teresa jerked in another direction, pulling Darwin with her, the action so abrupt he barely kept his balance. She did the same thing only seconds later. This time Darwin turned too late. His body hit an invisible wall. He felt the slight give and imagined the individual fibers making it up stretching and pushing back against him. Paul’s group had built walls of Threads around them. He ran after Teresa, as blind as he had been when he’d first entered this world.
She pulled him in yet another random direction before she slowed and twisted her body sideways, beckoning him to follow. He barely saw the movement. He followed her exact steps, feeling his back rubbing against a nonexistent wall. Another one pressed against his chest, wedging him between the two forces. Teresa continued to force her way through and he kept up with her, feeling claustrophobic despite seeing nothing. The release of the pressure against his chest came as a sudden and unexpected relief. Teresa grabbed his hand to pull them further along. She hunkered down beside the wall of a house and he crouched beside her. She moved her mouth close to his ear, whispering as quietly she could.
“Those walls are too random. I don’t think they know where we are.”
Darwin continued to stare into the darkness, not seeing anything. How could they not know? Being able to monitor the Threads and any motion through them was one of the first skills he had learned. How was it possible that they didn’t have anybody who could do such a simple task? He couldn’t believe that they were as blind as they made themselves appear to be. They also knew Teresa could See. They were being herded. He could feel it in his bones, even if he couldn’t See. Teresa moved as if to stand and Darwin placed his hand on her shoulder.
She froze.
Paul’s men might not have known where they were before, but there was no way that they weren’t monitoring their Threads now. He held Teresa still as his eyes continued to scan the backyards around him, fear and the filtered moonlight make him see motion where there was none. He’d gotten used to being nearly blind since Baila had taken away his abilities, but he’d never felt the loss quite as much as he did now.
He thought he saw something move directly across from them, no more than five feet away. His eyes locked on the spot. A darker piece of shadow moved again. Darwin held his breath until it moved off into the next backyard. Even the sound of the horses’ hooves faded into the distance. Still, Darwin and Teresa stayed where they were, straining to hear the sounds of someone approaching. The moon disappeared from the sky and pure darkness descended on them, and still they waited.
By the time the first morning light touched the land, they had kept their distance from the coastline, heading deeper into the cities that surrounded San Francisco, still not sure if they had gotten away or were going exactly where Paul wanted them to.
Darwin and Teresa spent the remainder of the night in a weathered bungalow with empty window frames and burn marks on the inside walls. The smell of fire had long since left the hollow structure. It was apparent that no one had lived here or used the place as a rest stop in many, many years.
Heat from the afternoon sun woke them up in sticky, damp clothes, and they pulled their tired and sore bodies from the floor, dreading the start of another day. Their run through the night had not been good to them. Darwin had twisted his ankle, slowing down their pace, and he had limped through the dark until they’d found this place. He had refused any healing in case Paul was closer than they thought and could detect Thread use. Despite his fears, there had been no sign of the man or his followers since they’d lost them the night before.
The goal was to reach San Diego. Neither of them knew the Bay Area well, but there had to be an old highway that would get them from here to there, and chances were it would be fairly flat. The problem was that if Paul was following them, he would expect them to take that route. Cutting back to the coast would solve a couple of problems . . . they would know where they were, and Paul wouldn’t think they would take a slower way home. Had they told them where they were heading? He couldn’t remember the conversations they’d had before his capture, but it wouldn’t have been something they would try to hide.
They stepped from the bungalow into the remnants of hell, shielding their eyes from the bright sun. Only a handful of buildings remained standing in what must have once been a beautiful neighborhood. Most of what was left were piles of rubble no longer distinguishable as homes. Only a few steps in front of them, a massive water-filled crater took over the landscape . . . what was left of the old war between Threaders and non-Threaders. The sight shook Darwin to his core, and he stood staring at the water below with his shoulders slumped.
This is what people did to each other when differences weren’t tolerated. Torn apart by war, death, and violence. One group against another, destroying everything they had ever known. Despite one group being the winner, both somehow coming out less than what they had been going in.
Teresa was halfway down the wall of the crater before he shook himself out of it and took his first faltering step. The water in the hole was a remarkable shade of blue, the kind you only saw in pictures of some remote island paradise. Despite its depth, you could see clear to the bottom of it. On a hot summer day, it would be a perfect swimming hole. They both knew the color and the clarity didn’t mean the water was clean and good to drink, but that wasn’t stopping Teresa. She lay at its edge and dipped her hand into the liquid, raising it to her mouth and taking a small sip. The next handfuls of water were faster as she filled her belly with the cool, clear liquid.
Darwin shambled down the steep slope, and followed her example until they’d both drunk their fill. When he was done, he rolled on his back and stared at the clouds slipping through the sky overhead, thoughts of Paul and the long walk ahead temporarily pushed aside. Feeling for the first time that maybe they actually had a chance. Teresa stood and stared at the steep climb back to the top of the crater. He didn’t move from his spot.
“We can’t stay here,” she said.
“I know. It’s just . . . I’m tired, you know. Deep in my bones tired. It seems like everything’s gone to shit. Things have gone a little bit more back to normal for you since the QPS was turned on. Hell, things have gotten better for pretty much everybody. I’m as useless as a hunk of rock. People either hate me for what I look like or what I’ve done, or worship me and want to make me their god.”
“Was Baila as useless as a rock? Are any members of the troupe? What makes you so special, Darwin Lloyd, that your pain and your loss outweigh those of everybody else?”
He felt a sharp retort forming and swallowed it. Raised a hand to touch the skin on his cheek, tracing lines that shouldn’t exist, that made him a freak and a monster. He knew she was right, though it didn’t help. It wasn’t the first time they’d had this conversation and he knew it likely wouldn’t be the last. This was the first time she’d been so forceful in response to it, though. Feeling sorry for himself wasn’t going to help anything. He closed his eyes and let the sunlight wash his face before standing and trying to scramble back up the steep slope. The pain from his ankle forced him to sit back down. Teresa settled beside him. Her eyes unfocused and the pain disappeared.
Darwin was the first to stand and begin the climb out of the crater. He looked back over his shoulder. “Come on, smarty pants. We’ve got places to be.”
She stuck out her tongue at him and followed him up.
Darwin had no idea where they actually were, but he knew for sure that it used to be a threat or stronghold against the non-Threaders. Why else would they have destroyed it? Baila’s story came back to him and he realized that didn’t have to be true. This could have been a school filled with children. All it needed to be was a group of Threaders living there. Whether those who had died here were blameless or not, he still felt it as a deep loss. Somewhere out there other homes had been destroyed and loves lost . . . non-Threaders who no longer existed. The destruction as Threaders hit them wouldn’t be as obvious as this, but the loss would have been the same. Families torn apart by a senseless war.
The sun had settled closer to the horizon, leaving them only a few hours until it set. Together they decided to spend another night in the bungalow. The lack of people, the proximity of the water, and the closeness of nightfall all helped with the decision.
They moved on the next morning, aiming for the coast. The further they moved southwest, the less they saw of the destruction. They also didn’t see any people. It was as if someone had cut off this whole part of the country and declared it an unsafe place to live, or left it as a monument to the destruction of war, of technology and non-Threaders.
His own world would be the same now. He hadn’t thought about his home in a long time.
The war here had lasted a little over six months, and it had been more than nine since Rebecca had turned the QPS back on. Was the war, and the outcome, an inevitability in every world the Source was turned on in? Did non-Threaders win in some of them? He hoped that in at least one or two they had learned to live together and created a better place for everyone.
They stopped again just before the sun set. The water they’d drunk only that morning already gone from their systems. They had no containers to carry more in, no food to keep them fueled. They’d hoped to meet some people, anybody that would help them along the way. But street after street and house after house had remained empty and dilapidated, a strange counterpoint to the amount of people they had seen closer to the bay.
The road southwest left the city, weaving between green hills and the occasional group of houses before they passed a broken sign lying in the ditch. Curiosity and a chance to rest made Darwin clear the overgrown grass from it. Scotts Valley City Limit. Teresa forced him back to his feet and they carried on, finally settling into a single story-warehouse, walking through the empty window frames into the dark interior. The sudden change in temperature made Darwin shiver.
“Do you think they’re still looking for you?” Teresa asked.
Her words stopped him for a moment. When they had escaped together, his mind had naturally thought Paul was searching for both of them, but that might not be true. Paul already had a healer, and could get another if needed. Had he been lying to himself to feel better? Was he the one putting Teresa in danger? Then again, without her as their prisoner, he wouldn’t have performed for them. They needed her as much as they wanted him.
“I don’t know,” he said. “All we can do is keep moving and keep looking over our shoulder. It won’t matter if we don’t get some water and some food soon. We may as well have just stayed in the damned compound. At least then we’d be alive.”
Teresa lay down on the gritty floor and closed her eyes. “Okay,” she said. “Tomorrow we hit the coast.”
The soft sounds of her snoring echoed in the empty space before Darwin lay down beside her. At the very least they could be ready. Tomorrow on the way to the ocean, he would scan the houses and everything else they passed and look for anything he could use as a weapon. And he knew that anything would do.
Sometimes, even just the leg of a side table.
Darwin and Teresa reached the outskirts of Santa Cruz mid-morning, turning onto Highway 1 heading south rather than attempt another big city. Their chances of finding someone willing to barter for food and water would be higher there, but so would the risk of running into a not-so-friendly group.
They had done okay with water on the walk, last night’s rain creating small pools and puddles along the way. It wasn’t clean water, but they were beyond caring. The lack of food was starting to take its toll.
Several times during their walk they had to duck into some trees or brush, or just lie low in the tall grass, sure that they had heard the sound of horses’ hooves or the hum of bicycle tires and the rattle of gears. Each time the path had remained empty. Darwin didn’t think his mind was playing tricks. The feeling of being followed had sunk into him, saturating him to his core to the point where he had no doubt.
“We’re being followed.”
“I feel it too, but every time we stop and look, there’s nobody there. It’s got to be just paranoia, right?”
“I don’t know.” He pointed at the curve in the road ahead. “We’ll go around that and find a place to hide where we can see the road. If someone is following us, we should see them.”
“Not if they’re following Threads.”
“If they could do that, they would have found us two nights ago. It doesn’t make any sense to me, but maybe no one ever showed them how to do it.”
They kept their pace going around the corner until they were sure they were out of sight from anyone following before sprinting across the shallow ditch and into the trees, crouching down deep enough inside to not be seen and still be able to see out. It felt good not to be moving. It took the better part of an hour of not seeing anyone before he felt safe enough to continue on. Darwin hummed the tune to The Kinks’ Destroyer before pulling Teresa to her feet and continuing their journey.
The sun beat down on them as they continued south, sticking to the broken ribbon of concrete that reflected the light into their eyes and doubled the heat. Across the highway Darwin could see what was left of the roofs of houses sticking over the sound barrier wall. Burned beams and collapsed chimneys were all that remained. They didn’t go in.
Grass and bushes and the occasional tree had encroached onto the roadway, and they stayed to the shaded area as much as they could. Wagon tracks weaved through the overgrown mess, and they plodded along the worn path. Their last drink of water had been over an hour ago, but they had sweat that out already. The track split, and they stopped.
“We need water,” Teresa said. “We won’t find it on the highway, unless we get lucky. We’ll have a better chance of meeting people if we head in.”
Darwin simply nodded, and they both took the path that went deeper into Santa Cruz.
The houses lining the street were a wreck, falling apart from the weather and lack of use. The wagon tracks continued on, slowly widening into two tracks. Though there were no signs of people yet, they knew they were getting close, and the thought put an extra spring in their step that their tired and hungry bodies wouldn’t be able to maintain.
They knocked on the door of the first occupied house they found. The door opened a crack and something or someone blocked the light coming from inside, but no one spoke.
“Please, if you can spare it,” Teresa said. “We just really need some water. We’ve been walking for days and haven’t seen anyone.”
The door slammed in their faces. Darwin raised his hand to knock again and Teresa pushed it back down to the side.
“We’ll try the next one,” she said. The tone of her voice was a mixture of despair and resignation.
It was another mile before they finally came to the community served by the double wagon tracks. The first sound that met their ears was of children laughing and playing, and Darwin’s dry lips stretched into a grin. That was always a good sign. They walked past the first few houses and into a small market, approaching the first food vendor they saw.
“We’d like to barter for some food and water,” Teresa said, taking control of the conversation again. Past experience had shown it was best when she approached people. When he did it, most would look at his scarred face and neck and shy away.
“What have you got?” the man said, looking Teresa up and down and sounding skeptical.
“I’m a healer. If you have anybody who is sick or not feeling well I can take a look at them.”
“Nah, we’re okay, but if you—” He looked over Teresa’s shoulder at Darwin and took a hurried step back, the look on his face changing from helpful to angry.
“Do you know of anyone else? Anybody who could use my skills?”
The man drew a bat from under the counter and held it in his hands as if he was protecting his stall from the devil himself.
“Ain’t nobody going to help you here,” he snarled.
“All we need is food and water and we’ll be moving on.” A pleading had entered Teresa’s voice. It made Darwin’s blood boil.
“I said ain’t nobody gonna help you here. We heard about you two. We heard what you did in San Francisco. If you try any of that here, I think you’ll find that we can more than take care of ourselves.”
“But we—”
“Move it.” He lifted the bat higher even though his arms trembled. The shopkeeper was truly scared of them.
Teresa and Darwin stepped back into the crowd, moving with the flow along the line of vendors until the man’s stall disappeared from view. The smell of food and cooking brought tears to their eyes.
“They’ve been here,” Teresa said.
“I heard, and from the sounds of it, they’ve been telling some pretty fanciful stories about us.” He searched the faces in the market, trying to find one he recognized, or that recognized him. He breathed a sigh of relief when his search came up empty. “I’ll head further into town, to the edge of the market. You stay here and see if you can get us anything. That man didn’t recognize you even after you told him you were a healer. It was me that triggered him. I’ll wait for you.”
“I’m not sure that’s a good idea. What if Paul has some people here and they see you? We should stick together.”
“I’ll stay as hidden as I can. If we don’t get something to eat or drink, it won’t matter.”
Teresa lowered her eyes as Darwin melted into the crowd. She pulled her hair off her shoulders and tied it into a quick knot. It wasn’t much, but if she was described as having long hair, hopefully this would help a little bit.
It took her an hour to reach the end of the marketplace where Darwin waited in the shadows of an overgrown bush and fence. He stepped out of the shadows as she approached. On her back was a small backpack filled with whatever the people were willing to give her. Attached to the outside were two quart bottles that looked like they were filled with fresh water. It wouldn’t be enough to get them to San Diego, but it was plenty to get them to the next town, to the next group of hopefully friendly people.
His gaze was drawn to a sudden motion in the market behind her, but when he looked, everything was moving with the same flow he had witnessed while he waited. As he scanned the crowd, a young woman locked her gaze with his, breaking it almost immediately to studiously examine the workings of a leather maker. The blood drained from his face. Teresa’s path through the market hadn’t gone unnoticed.
The young woman took another furtive glance over her shoulder directly at Darwin and walked briskly the other direction.
He grabbed Teresa’s hand and pulled her off the road, heading for the coastline instead of the highway. There was more city in that direction, and hopefully more places to hide. As they ran, houses gave way to park land and a large lagoon. They’d lost the protection of the houses sooner than he’d hoped.
They walked for an hour trying to find a way across the lagoon and to the ocean’s edge, sometimes doubling back to make sure they weren’t being followed. They finished one of the water bottles on the way. Reaching the ocean, they moved along the sandy beach as soft cliff walls and fallen rock slowly cut them off from the city, before finally resting in a small cove nestled in amongst massive boulders.
Except for more dried fish than Darwin thought he could stomach, the food that Teresa had bartered for was all fresh. He stopped himself from guzzling down the remaining water, pacing it with a mixture of fruits and vegetables that came out of Teresa’s backpack. They both ate their fill, forcing themselves to stop drinking when they’d finished half of the remaining bottle before they spoke of the next steps. The place they’d chosen was a good one, he thought. They couldn’t see more than five feet around them, with the ocean on one side and protruding rocks and a cliff on the other. But if they couldn’t see out, then they couldn’t be seen, either.
“They know where we are,” said Darwin, his voice soft so it wouldn’t carry across the water and bounce up the cliff face. “And they know where we’re going. The woman from the market knows I saw her.”
“Maybe they’ll think we would try to get as far away as we could, head back inland to get away.”
“Maybe. Maybe they think we hid in one of the places we passed.”
Teresa stayed quiet, lost in thought as the sun bled into the calm water and the sky got darker. “Do you think it’s safe to spend the night here?”
“I’m not sure it’s safe to spend the night anywhere.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I think we’re okay for a while. No one will see us until they’re right here, but if that happens we’ll have to fight to get through them.”
“Maybe if we cross the highway again?” Teresa said.
“We’d be exposed until we got to houses.”
“I know, but I just feel trapped in here. Could we at least move someplace where there’s a second exit?”
“What if we wait until it gets a bit darker and keep going south? We can follow the road we crossed to get down here.”
Teresa nodded and stood, dusting the sand from her clothes, and paced on their tiny bit of beach until it was time to go.
Darwin and Teresa left their little cubby hole by the shoreline just as the sun sank into the depths and sputtered out. They scrambled away from the water’s edge and up a narrow path, closer to the line of houses, consciously trying to stay in the small valleys created by the landscape, knowing that their silhouettes against the dusk sky would be visible to anyone.
Once they reached the dark street running beyond the ruins of homes lining the top of the cliff, they turned south and began the long walk to Chollas. Darwin kept looking over his shoulder as Teresa led the way, every sound turning into the rush of feet or the clop of a horse’s hoof. Every movement made his heart pound faster. Shadows took on a life of their of own, shifting and moving when he stared at them. Paul’s previous sneak attack and the woman in the market had driven him into a deeper paranoia than he’d ever felt, and it gnawed at his insides until there was nothing left but fear. He felt numb with it. Teresa placed her hand on his arm and whispered softly. He didn’t understand the words, but her tone brought him back down and his breathing slowed. He placed his hand over hers and gave her a wan smile, even though he knew she couldn’t see it.
Loss filled him with a sudden pang that replaced the feeling of being hunted, and he longed for the muggy nights and drifting music of New Orleans. His scars were still new then, and the soft notes and raspy voices had helped him heal.
When he had come here, following the screams that had hooked into his soul, he’d carried his backpack, thinking he was so smart to have packed it with solar panels and rechargers for his phone and survival gear to help him when he was on the road. In retrospect, it probably made him look like a cheery schoolboy on his first day back to school, looking forward to a new year with friends and fun things to do, only to realize later that—once again—he’d been duped and nothing had really changed.
What he missed most from the pack was his phone, filled with music and memories of the place he had once called home. Teresa had filled that hole in his life with her love and support. He knew he was a better man for her presence, but sometimes his memories came to haunt him and fill him with nostalgia.
He still loved his music, and the part of their trip that had ended in New Orleans had been one of the highlights. When Teresa said it was time to move on, another little piece of himself had broken, even though he knew she was right. Staying in one place for too long brought familiarity, and as they said, familiarity brought contempt. Not for the people or the place, but for the routine they had acquired, having to remain hidden and anonymous, not having long-term friends, not being discovered.
Darwin forced himself to concentrate on the road ahead of him, the dark path and shattered houses looking bleak and forlorn. This was not a time to get lost in his own memories. Teresa continued to lead the way, her steps echoing on the dry pavement. Occasionally the echo was replaced with the sound of crunching gravel before she corrected her course in the dark.
A voice called out from the side of the road. The blood in Darwin’s veins froze.
“I was starting to think I was wrong.”
As one, Darwin and Teresa turned away from the voice and ran at full speed. Darwin’s legs buckled when he entered the ditch at the side of the road, the sudden drop throwing him forward. He tumbled into Teresa and they both collapsed into the rise on the other side.
Paul’s voice got closer. “You’re entirely too predictable, you know. Travel at night so you can’t be seen, hide during the day. Pick the least traveled road. You really made it quite easy for me.”
Darwin rolled off Teresa and stood, his own breath echoing starkly in his ears. As she got to her own feet, he used the noise she made in the long grass to rush back onto the road, aiming for Paul’s voice. The steepness of the hill fought against his mad rush, and by the time he reached the top, he was moving far too slowly, in a near crouch. His shoulder intersected with Paul’s hips. Not enough to do any damage, but more than enough to bring them both down.
Voices shouted from behind them.
Darwin kicked with everything he had at the dark blob that lay a short distance away from him as Teresa climbed out of the ditch to join him on the road. He missed, and Teresa pulled him to his feet and across the highway into the small cluster of houses. He reached into his back pocket for the small weapon he’d built back in the warehouse in Scotts Valley. It was more of a prison shiv than anything else, but it would do the job.
He dragged Teresa to a stop when they reached the back of the first house, slipping around the corner in the backyard, the homemade knife in his hand. He held his breath, his grip tightening on the small handle, his heart hammering to get out of his chest, and crouched in the darkness. Footsteps scraped between the two buildings and his entire body tensed. He raised the blade, holding it backward so the pointy end left his grip near his pinkie finger. The steps paused just around the corner before shuffling forward again, a leg coming into view. Darwin swung his arm out past the house, aiming for the back of ankle, hoping the man wasn’t wearing boots. He felt the homemade blade slice through skin and tendon. The man thunked against the empty house and fell. Darwin slid around Teresa’s frozen form and crept to the other side of the house. She trailed behind him, her breath short and shallow.
“What have you done?” Her words stuttered out under her breath, almost swept away by the soft breeze.
The knife grip felt slick in his hand, as though the blade had become covered in oil. He wiped it on his pants and placed the knife in the other hand as his back slid along the wall. “I didn’t kill him, you know I could never do that,” he whispered back.
“Jesus Christ, he’s got a knife. He got Terry.”
The running feet coming up the other side of the house stopped before they reached the corner and Darwin braced himself for another lunge. Paul’s voice echoed from just around the corner.
“Just when I thought you were predictable, Darwin. I really didn’t think you had that in you. Just remember, it was you that changed the rules, not me.” His footsteps receded to the front of the house.
Teresa shoved past Darwin and got down on all fours, crawling across the space between the houses. Darwin followed when he heard people approaching from behind. As he crawled across the wide space, more voices came from between the houses. By the time he stood on the other side, Teresa was already waiting at the next gap. He caught up with her and they crossed that one, moving through another yard, and climbed a crumbling brick fence. He couldn’t hear Paul or his group anymore. Teresa pulled him into the house; the door’s rotting frame splintered as though it had been forced open at one time. Too afraid to speak, Darwin tried to head back outside. She resisted, grabbing his whole arm and dragging him further in.
It felt darker inside and the air was thick with the smell of mold and rot. It clung to his skin and filled his lungs with its stench. They moved slowly through the house, their outstretched fingers reaching gently in front of them before they took each step. They felt the soft walls and overturned furniture, maneuvering around the obstacles until they saw a lighter square appear out of the darkness.
They stopped just inside the front door and waited and listened.
A bang sounded from the back of the house and they scurried out into an overgrown front lawn. What had once been a lush manicured green space was now dead weeds that broke and scratched as they crawled through them. Staying below the height of the weeds, they reached the road once again. Clouds obscured the stars and no light broke the blackness in front of them. They lowered themselves to their bellies and wiggled across the dusty expanse as if they were snakes. A cold rain began to fall before they reached the other side. Standing, they followed what was left of a long gravel driveway on the other side.
Rows of eighteen-wheelers covered the lot, their rusting hulks a memory of what had once been. Faded spray paint marked the side of every vehicle, streaked through with brown rust and dirt. Darwin and Teresa rolled under the lead row of trucks and moved to the next one, lying in the dark, listening to the rain falling. A flash lit up the sky, blinding them with its sudden brightness, and thunder rolled across the houses and entered the compound, shaking the hulk that they hid under. Rivulets of water ran underneath the trucks, reaching fingers of cold and wet toward them. Their clothes soaked it up as the thunderstorm continued. They lay shivering in the cold and wet.
They wanted nothing more than to leave, but were too afraid to move, trapped by the rain and lightning and people searching for them. Several times they heard footsteps walking in and through the vehicles. Doors squealed as they were opened, and it sounded like drums when feet walked through what was left of the empty trailers. At the first sound, Darwin and Teresa crawled forward and up into the engine bay of the vehicle they were hiding under. The motor had been stripped down, but the space was still cramped and dark. It felt safer than under the trailer. At least it was dry. Whispered voices floated in through the front grill.
“They’re not here and I’m soaked to the bones. We found them before, and we’ll find them again. Let’s get out of this rain and get warm.”
“No!” Paul’s voice rose. “They’re here. I saw them come in. Look again.”
“But—”
“Look again.” The fierceness and anger in Paul’s voice made Darwin shiver from more than just the cold. The voices moved off and the rain continued to pound on the hood above them.
The soft, slow sound of a zipper opening brought Darwin back to the cramped engine bay. Teresa placed something into his hand. He raised it to his nose and smelled it, almost banging his head when he pulled away sharply. The dried fish had a pungent odor that quickly filled the compartment. He broke off a piece and placed it on his tongue, letting the dried meat soften as the salt filled his mouth. She passed him the half-empty bottle of water and he took a sip, washing down the fish before taking another bite. They shared their small meal without talking. The rain stopped sometime during the night and Darwin fell into a partial sleep, half his mind on the noises outside and half lost to dreams. He woke in a sweat.
Reflected sunlight came from the bottom of the vehicle and where the hood met the body. It was just enough to see Teresa pass him what was left of the water. He swallowed a tepid mouthful before passing it back.
Birds chirped outside their small space and the sun beat down on the hood of the truck, turning their small space into a sauna, and still they waited, not sure if Paul and his cronies were outside waiting for them to show themselves. Eventually, nature wouldn’t let them wait anymore and they dropped to the ground, peering from under the truck for any sign of someone waiting for them. Wet weeds, broken concrete, and puddles of water were all they found.