Deluge: The Conqueror Worms II

CHAPTER 13

The ranger station was quiet without Kevin inside. Several times, Sarah considered braving the downpour and going out to the utility shed to check on him. Each time, she decided against it. With the heavy cloud cover blocking out the moon and the stars, and no electric lights, the night was like fresh road tar. If she slipped on the wet stairs or stumbled across a worm in the darkness, Kevin would never be able to hear her, let alone help her. Also, he’d insisted that she stay away from him until he was certain that the fuzz was gone and unable to be passed on to her.

Exhausted as she was, Sarah found herself unable to fall asleep. She lay on one of the bunk beds, tossing and turning and listening to the rain drum against the metal roof. The mattress creaked beneath her. At one point, she heard something scratching in the corner. She bolted upright, gasping, fearing the worst, but it was just a small, gray and brown field mouse. The tiny creature was as frightened as she was. As soon as it saw her, it fled behind one of the bookcases.

“Poor little guy,” she muttered. “He’s a survivor, just like us.”

She lay there restlessly for a few more minutes and then got up again. After lighting some candles and positioning them around the room, Sarah struck a match to a small kerosene lantern that had been hanging on the wall. Then, carrying it with her, she explored her new surroundings again, this time in detail. She picked through the books and magazines with interest, but ignored the movies and video games, since there was no electricity.

Disturbed by the silence, Sarah turned on the battery operated radio again, hoping to hear more from the mysterious broadcaster in Boston, but the airwaves offered nothing but static. She left it on but turned the volume down low. She knew that she shouldn’t. Although the ranger station was stocked with plenty of batteries, the supply wasn’t unlimited. Sooner or later, they’d run out. Right now, however, she needed something to break the oppressive stillness, even if it was just white noise.

There was food in a hutch next to the microwave and in the cupboards above it—two large cans of coffee, several boxes of tea bags, powdered cream, packets of sugar, canned vegetables and pasta, tins of sardines and tuna, packs of instant oatmeal, bags of beef jerky, candy, instant mashed potato and stuffing mixes, various spices, plenty of bottled water, and more Ramen noodles than she’d ever seen in her life. They wouldn’t starve. At least, not right away. Sarah considered making herself something to eat. She needed to keep her strength up. She knew that. But she just wasn’t hungry. Not after everything that had happened in the last forty-eight hours. She ran through it all in her mind—the helicopter crash; dinner with Teddy and Carl, during which they’d discussed everything from the White Fuzz to religion; that crazed redneck, Earl Harper, who at the end, had seemed to have shared some sinister, inexplicable bond with the worms; the big worm’s attack on the house; her and Kevin’s escape to this place; and then Kevin’s infection. It was all too much.

Both Sarah and Kevin had seen the White Fuzz in action before. Several survivors in Baltimore had contracted it. The fungus spread quickly, covering a human host in a matter of days. They’d never seen what the final result was, but Sarah didn’t imagine it was very pretty. All she knew was that those who were infected with it craved water, and no matter how much they got, it wasn’t enough. They wanted more. Which was ironic, considering the state of the world.

Could Kevin have really beat the infection in time? Had scraping the skin from the effected area really killed the fungus? She thought that Kevin believed that it had.

But Sarah wasn’t so sure.

It occurred to her that she’d run her hand through her hair right before picking Kevin up off the floor. Had she done it since then? She couldn’t remember. Yes, she’d done her best to decontaminate herself, but she hadn’t washed her hair. Sarah knew that she was being paranoid. Fatigue and shock were wearing her down. But paranoid or not, she decided to be safe. She grabbed a pair of scissors from a drawer and snapped on a pair of rubber gloves. Then she leaned over the trashcan and cut her hair, cropping it as short as possible. It saddened her to do so—her previous girlfriends had always said that her hair was one of Sarah’s best features. Shoving the emotion aside, she gritted her teeth and continued, snipping it even shorter. When she was done, Sarah looked down at her locks in stunned silence. Then she dropped the gloves and the scissors into the trash, tied the garbage bag, and sat it out on the steps. She stood in the rain, letting it wash the clippings from her neck and shoulders. Then she came back inside again and dried off.

She didn’t look in the mirror. She was afraid to. Not yet. Maybe later. Right now, seeing the damage she’d just done to herself might be the final straw.

And besides, she scolded herself, it’s just hair. It will grow back. And it’s not like I’m going to meet anybody way out here. All the pretty girls are at the bottom of the sea.

Sarah took a deep breath, and forced herself to focus. There were more important things to worry about right now—like Kevin.

As she crossed the room, the static faded, and then returned, followed by a loud, sharp electronic squeal. When the feedback had dissipated, she heard the familiar Boston accent. Once again, the signal was weak and frequently interrupted with bursts of static.

“… broadcast… distress signal. The Pru… almost eight-hundred feet above Boston, but now… all but the top four floors are submerged beneath the Atlantic. The only other building I… is the John Hancock Tower. Everything else… the Pru’s two-hundred foot radio tower…”

Sarah hovered over the radio, listening intently.

“… six of us. Me, O’Neill, Wilson, Mason, Rebecca, and Herndon… maintenance manag… Wilson is from Charleston… speech… government imposed travel restrictions… Lisa and Alex stayed back in Ohio… might hear this broadcast… journal…”

Sarah tried to concentrate—tried to mine some meaning from the random, disjointed words that cut through the static. She grabbed a pen and tablet from the command desk and jotted down key phrases and things that seemed important.

“…half-man, half-shark… ate Norris… bit… half… plenty of diesel for the generator, so I can broadcast just like a radio station. And with all these radio masts and dishes, anyone with a working radio or telev… should hear it… CB radio… Television signals will only carry in… but the radio signals should hit tower after tower. They could… pretty far, I guess… figure out how to rewire the satellite dishes into the public broadcast system equip… satellites out in space are still operational… transmit even farther…”

Sarah moved to the side, stretching a kink in her neck, and the signal suddenly grew clearer. She remained motionless, hoping the signal would stay.

“I can only transmit, though, so I don’t know if anyone out there can hear this or not. If so, hi! How’s it going? Any chance you could send a helicopter or a boat to haul our asses out of here?”

“Only if they come rescue us first,” Sarah told the man on the radio.

“Anyway,” he said, “I’m pretty tired. Didn’t get much sleep, on account of the itching. Think I’ve got a rash or something. Maybe from all the moisture in the air—like jungle rot or something. Gonna crash for a few hours and then I’ll try this again. If there’s anyone listening, stay safe. Stay dry. This is Mark in Boston, over and out.”

Silence returned, followed by another burst of static. Sarah stood listening to it for a moment. Then she slowly turned off the radio. She thought about going down to tell Kevin about the broadcast, and then remembered that she couldn’t.

She returned to the bookshelves and scanned the spines until she found what she was looking for—several books on first aid and medicine. She pulled them from the shelf, blew the dust off the covers and sat them down on the bunk. She blew out the candles, one by one, until only the lantern and one lone candle were left. Then she returned to her bunk, snuffed out the lantern and read by candlelight.

It was a long time before she could sleep.