Justin Cronin - The Passage

They would have to steal a vehicle; on this point, everyone was agreed. Fuel was the next question. They could follow the train tracks south, looking for the fuel depot, or if they had enough, drive south to Las Vegas to the airport before heading north again on Highway 15. Probably they’d be followed; Peter doubted Olson would let go of one of the vans without a fight. To avoid this, they could head straight east instead, across the test range, but with no roads or towns, Peter doubted they could make it, and if the terrain was anything like it was around the Haven, it didn’t look like the kind of place where they wanted to get stranded.

This left the matter of weapons. Alicia believed there had to be an armory somewhere-from the beginning she’d maintained that the guns they’d seen were loaded, no matter what Olson said-and she’d done her best to feel out Jude on this question the night before. Jude had stayed close to her all evening-just as Olson had stayed close to Peter-and in the morning he had taken her out in a pickup to show her the rest of the compound. Peter didn’t like it, but any chance to glean more information, and to do so in a way that would go undetected, was one they had to take.

But if there was an armory, Jude had given no hint where it might be. Perhaps Olson was telling the truth, but it wasn’t anything they could risk. And even if he was, the weapons they had brought with them had to be somewhere-by Peter’s count, three rifles, nine blades, at least six magazines of ammunition, and the last of the grenades.

“What about the prison?” Caleb suggested.

Peter had already thought of this. With its fortresslike walls, it seemed the natural place to lock something away. But so far, none of them had been close enough to see how they might get inside. For all intents and purposes, the place seemed abandoned, just as Olson had said.

“I think we should wait till dark and scout it out,” Hollis said. “We can’t know for sure what we’re up against if we don’t.”

Peter turned to Sara. “How long do you think until Michael can travel?”

She frowned doubtfully. “I don’t even know what’s wrong with him. Maybe it really was heatstroke, but I don’t think so.”

She had expressed these misgivings before. Heatstroke serious enough to make him seize, Sara had said, would almost certainly have killed him, because it would have meant the brain had swollen. His protracted state of unconsciousness might follow from that, but now that he was awake, she detected no sign of brain injury at all. His speech and motor coordination were fine; his pupils were normal and reactive. It was as if he had fallen into a profound but otherwise ordinary sleep from which he had simply awakened.

“He’s still pretty weak,” Sara went on. “Some of that is just dehydration. But it could be a couple of days before we can move him, maybe more.”

Alicia sank back on her cot with a groan. “I don’t think I can keep this up that long.”

“What’s the problem?” Peter asked.

“Jude is the problem. I know we’re supposed to play along here, but I’m wondering how far I’m going to have to take this.”

Her meaning was plain. “Do you think you can… I don’t know, hold him off?”

“Don’t worry about me. I can take care of myself. But he’s not going to like it.” She paused, suddenly uncertain. “There’s something else, nothing to do with Jude. I’m not sure I should even bring this up. Does anybody remember Liza Chou?”

Peter did, at least by name. Liza was Old Chou’s niece. She and her family, a brother and her parents, had all been lost on Dark Night-killed or taken up, he couldn’t recall. Peter remembered Liza vaguely, from their days together in the Sanctuary. She was one of the older children, practically an adult in his eyes.

“What about her?” Hollis asked.

Alicia hesitated. “I think I saw her today.”

“That’s impossible,” Sara scoffed.

“I know it’s impossible. Everything about this place is impossible. But Liza had a scar on her cheek, I do remember that. Some kind of accident, I forget what it was. And there it was, the same scar.”

Peter leaned forward. Something about this new bit of information seemed important, part of an emerging pattern his mind couldn’t quite discern. “Where was this?”

“In the dairy barns. I’m pretty certain she saw me, too. Jude was with me, so I couldn’t really break away. When I looked again she was gone.”

It was conceivable, Peter supposed, that she had escaped, and somehow ended up here. But how would a young girl, as Liza was at the time, travel such a distance?

“I don’t know, Lish. Are you sure?”

“No, I’m not sure. I didn’t have the chance to be sure. I’m just saying she looked a lot like Liza Chou.”

“Was she pregnant?” Sara asked.

Alicia thought for a moment. “Come to think of it, she was.”

“A lot of the women are pregnant,” Hollis offered. “It makes sense, doesn’t it? A Little’s a Little.”

“But why no boys?” Sara went on. “And if so many of the women are pregnant, wouldn’t there be more children?”

“Aren’t there?” asked Alicia.

“Well, I thought so too. But I didn’t count more than a couple dozen last night. And the children I see all seem to be the same ones.”

Peter said, “Hollis, you said there were some kids outside.”

The big man nodded. “They’re playing on that pile of tires.”

“Hightop, check it out.”

Caleb rose from his bunk and moved to the door, opening it a crack.

“Let me guess,” Sara said. “The one with the crooked teeth and her friend, the little blond girl.”

Caleb turned from the door. “She’s right. That’s who’s out there.”

“That’s what I mean,” Sara insisted. “It’s always the same ones. It’s like they’re always out there so we think there’s more than there are.”

“What are we saying here?” This was Alicia. “Okay, I agree it’s strange about the boys. But this… I don’t know, Sara.”

Sara turned to face Alicia, squaring her shoulders combatively. “You’re the one who thinks she saw a girl who died fifteen years ago. She’d be, what, in her midtwenties now? How would you know it was Liza Chou?”

“I told you. The scar. And I think I know a Chou when I see one.”

“And that means we’re supposed to take your word for it?”

Sara’s sharp tone seemed to bristle through Alicia. “I don’t care if you do or not. I saw what I saw.”

Peter had heard all he wanted to. “Both of you, enough.” The two women were glowering at each other. “This isn’t going to solve anything. What’s the matter with you?”

Neither woman answered; the tension in the room was palpable. Then Alicia sighed and flopped back on the cot again.

“Forget it. I’m just tired of waiting. I can’t sleep at all in this place. It’s so goddamn hot, I have nightmares all night long.”

For a moment no one spoke.

“The fat woman?” Hollis said.

Alicia sat up quickly. “What did you say?”

“In the kitchen.” His voice was grave. “From the Time Before.”

Caleb stepped toward them from the door. “I tell you, the boy isn’t just dumb… ”

Sara finished for him: “… he’s been struck dumb.” Her face was astonished. “I’m dreaming about her, too.”

Everyone was looking at Peter now. What were his friends talking about? What fat lady?

He shook his head. “Sorry.”

“But the rest of us are having the same dream,” said Sara.

Hollis rubbed his beard, nodding. “It would appear so.”

Michael had been drifting in and out of a formless sleep when he heard the door opening. A girl stepped around the screen. Younger than Billie, but with the same funny orange costume and severe haircut. She was holding a tray before her.