Matthew Costello - Vacation

That served to pin the thing’s jaw back a bit, and—for the moment—keep the teeth closed.

Now Jack risked a quick glance to his left.

Has to be something.

The Can Head wriggled its head violently left and right to free itself from Jack’s jaw-closing grasp.

A few more twists and it would be free.

Jack’s left hand reached out and began to search the area around his pinned body.

He only felt more metal spokes of the rack—but then one piece jiggled a bit. Loose. A bit of the metal frame sprung loose.

Maybe it could be detached.

Jack closed his left hand on it even as he kept his other hand locked on the creature’s head, squeezing so tight that his fingers dug into the skin of the Can Head’s throat.

He yanked on the metal strut. It moved back and forth, but it still wouldn’t come free.

Then, again, now making the piece wriggle, jerk up and down fast until—

It came off.

Jack felt a surge of hope. Now he let the other thoughts in—what might be happening outside. With his family. His kids.

He didn’t let himself imagine other possibilities. That there might be more Can Heads in here. That this one was only the first. That the trap was indeed hopeless.

Hand tight on the metal strut, he looked at the Can Head, now rearing back to free itself of Jack’s grip.

Jack letting that happen.

’Cause then it would come nice and close.

And as the Can Head reared back, it opened its foul hole of a mouth and dived forward. Jack was ready.

Though the thing’s head moved fast, Jack’s left hand seemed to match its speed, and his eyes were on its eyes, those filmy dull sockets, as he jammed the metal strut straight into one eye. As hard and as deep as he could.

At first, it didn’t seem to make any difference.

The Can Head kept coming on its downward, open-mouthed arc.

But when that plunge was completed, the Can Head turned lifeless, falling onto Jack.

He quickly twisted to dump the body off, then pried himself out of the mesh of struts that had helped pin him.

He dived for his gun, grabbing it like it was life itself.

Kneeling then, turning, scanning the room for more of them.

Standing.

No more here.

Then outside.

Everything peaceful by the car. Christie, the kids, oblivious.

Christie looked back to the QuikMart.

Where is he? Just supposed to be checking it out.

At least the kids had stopped complaining about not getting out.

Then she saw Jack. Walking slowly toward the car.

Too slowly, too apparently casual, she immediately thought.

Then…

Something happened.

As Jack got closer he felt Christie’s eyes on him. She couldn’t have seen anything, all buttoned up in the locked car.

But her eyes…

No question, she thought something had happened.

When Jack got to the car, Christie opened the window.

“Bathrooms okay, Officer?”

He forced a smile. He stuck his head in the car window.

“You guys all right?”

Simon nodded. “I still have to go!”

Kate spoke. “We’re fine, Dad.”

Then, to Christie. “Can I have a word?”

That seemed to spur Simon. “Can’t we go in, Dad?”

Jack smiled at Simon. “Your mom and I… we have to talk, okay? Can you hang a bit?”

Kate rolled her eyes. “Sure, we’ll hang .”

Christie walked a few steps away from the car.

“What happened?” she sad.

Jack looked away. A breath. “Ran into one of them in there. Broke through the so-called electric fence somehow.”

She moved so her eyes were locked on his. “You okay?”

“Yeah. No problem. One less Can Head.”

The joke fell flat.

Funny, kids and peeing. Used to be no big fucking deal.

Christie spoke: “So how’d it get in?”

“How the hell do they always get in? Look—I think this… vacation is a bad idea. We should just—” He stood there, her eyes locked on his. She had wanted this so badly. “We should go home now.”

Christie didn’t take her eyes off him. And she didn’t say anything.

Until she glanced at the car. A quick look, but one meant to tell Jack something.

Then—

“No.”

Jack tilted his head. A habit of his when he didn’t grasp some edict about life in the house. Like rinsing dishes before they went in the dishwasher.

“What?”

He watched Christie take a breath.

“I don’t want to go back. And… I don’t want them to go back. You said… you’re okay.”

Jack’s head tilt turned into a full shake now.

“Right. Sure. But this place is not safe. This goddamn highway.”

He spoke quietly, aware that the kids had a window open.

“And I didn’t know that before? There’s still some TV, Jack. Where do we go that’s safe? Can you tell me where the hell that is?”

He had no answer.

She turned away from him and looked at the sky. The wispy morning clouds had all burned off. The sky a clear robin’s egg blue now. A few puffy clouds. Beautiful, if you took the time to look up.

Then back to Jack.

“That’s the world we live in.” She gestured at the deserted rest stop. “ This is the world we live in.”

“Which is why we live in a safe complex that—”

“Safe complex? More gates. Bigger fences. People like you protecting us. Trying to stop them, kill them. Only difference between here and there, Jack, is that maybe we might have better fences. They work—for now. Same world, same fears.”

“And what’s down there? Down the road? You think the camp will be safe?”

“Could be the same as anywhere else. And this, here… we ended up here on the wrong day.”

“You can say that again.”

“It could have happened at home.”

Jack shook his head but the core truth of what she was saying stuck. This was the world.

And the unanswered question.

Is anywhere safe?

“The kids, you… will be safer back home. Mark it off as an adventure.”

Christie forced a derisive laugh.

“An adventure? We just go back home ? And what—we live behind our fence? Sealed in our house, terrified. Is that our life?”

“We don’t have to—”

“And the kids? Kate will be an adult before you even know it. Will your fences go with her? Your guns? You want her to huddle in some goddamned—”

For the first time, her voice raised.

Jack realized this must have been simmering for a long time.

“— complex ? Hiding. Scared.”

“There are things to be scared of.”

Only now did she stop. Was she close to tears? Was this about fear, but more than just fear of the Can Heads?

Fear of life transformed forever. And would the silences between them only grow?

She pushed stray hairs off her forehead. With the morning haze gone, a cool breeze blew off the highway.

Coming from the north.

“Yes. There are things to be scared of. I guess that’s what I’m saying. And I’m scared. For me. For them. You, too.”

Jack nodded.

He shook his head at what Christie was saying. Maybe if she had seen how close the attack had been…

Would she still think that they should continue with this trip?

This goddamn vacation…

She didn’t move her eyes from his.

One idea became even more clear to him: what Christie feared for them all—about their life—was as great as her fear of the Can Heads.

“So, we go on?” he said.

She nodded.

Does she know what that might mean? Jack thought.

Could be, he thought… no other incidents ahead. The road north safe and secure. The camp the safest place on earth.