All Is Silence - Deserted Lands #1

Chapter 22 - Part I

THE SUN ROSE OVER THE Sandia Mountains as amazing as Jess had predicted. The black edge stood out against the yellow fire of the sun as it faded to rusty orange in the clouds. Mannie slipped out the door and down the hall, letting the door close firmly. She’d be up by the time he got back. He found the exercise area and was pleased that the key card Jess had made opened the door.

There was a pool and a hot tub. With a twinge of regret for not having swim trunks, he stripped down to his boxers and stepped into the pool. The water was cool, but not bracing cold. He dove horizontally away from the wall and pulled himself down toward the bottom before kicking gently forward. At the other end he did a kick turn and headed back. He focused on the breath, the stroke and kick. After a couple dozen strong laps he pulled himself out and walked, dripping to the hot tub. His knee didn’t feel too bad this morning. If I did my exercises, maybe it wouldn’t be a problem.

After a shower in the locker room, he pulled on his pants, leaving the boxers hanging on the faucet—going commando.He grimaced and adjusted as he walked down the tiled hall.

Mannie found the staff room and started coffee in the full-sized coffee maker. While it brewed he found the Business Center and got on the Internet to see if there was any new information about the disease and or recovery. What Lizzie had said about Seattle sounded good.

The news of the world hadn’t changed. He tried ABC, CNN, Reuters and finally BBC. BBC had a new headline. “Survivors Unite!” The subheading caught his eye. “If you are alive now the disease will not kill you.” Something inside him relaxed. He and Lizzie had survived. He got up to get coffee. But why? Another reason to not believe in a god who would let him live and kill so many others.

With fresh coffee in hand, black with lots of sugar, he skimmed the rest of the article. A handful of surviving epidemiologists had been working together on-line. Certain species of animals—bonobos, orangutans and chimpanzees—had suffered similar fates. But the disease had done its work and the belief was that in doing so had killed itself off.

A week-old article suggested English districts send representatives to a new ad hoc Parliament. Mannie searched for similar information in the U.S. but found nothing. Maybe when Jess was up she’d have more luck. He wasn’t bad for his age, but kids seemed to find what they were looking for faster.

When he returned to the room, Jess was sitting on the bed fully clothed and drying her hair. “You eaten?”

“Just coffee.”

“Seems a little gritty for breakfast.”

“The liquid version. There’s more downstairs if you want.”

Jess did have more luck on the Internet. “Two surviving members of Congress, Hilda Solis of California and Jack Schlossberg of New York.”

Mannie chuckled. “East meets West.”

“Does that make one the President and the other the Vice President?” Jess asked.

“Not a damn clue. Do they have a plan?” Mannie leaned over her shoulder, squinting. A grainy photo of an older woman and a young man accompanied the post. Without his reading glasses, he could only read the bold print. “He’s a Kennedy. Breaking the curse?”

“They’re suggesting people head for population centers.”

“Well,” Mannie said, “I guess we’re doing that.”

“New Mexico Governor says report to State Universities, including UNM in Albuquerque.”

“I wondered why we saw no one in a city this size.” He had no time or patience to deal with local bureaucracy. “I want to get to Lizzie.”

Jess nodded. “Me, too.”

They scrounged breakfast at a mini-mart and picked up all the items on Mannie’s shopping list before hitting the road. The drive proved even less interesting than the previous day. The scrub brush and plateaus were lovely at first, but monotonous eventually. Odd formations jutted out from time to time, red rock cliffs and broken lands pushed up by some cataclysm.

In the afternoon they pulled into Mancos, Colorado. Mannie’s knee needed a stretch and Jess wanted to explore in a new state. It was a small town; he could walk the whole length.

“All right, you go, but be back in 15?”

Jess’ smile lit her face. “I will.” She jogged away from him, her cowboy boots clunking on the pavement.

Mannie crossed the street to a natural foods store. He opened the door to an overwhelming wave of rotting food. He stepped in anyway.

The door opened behind him. He turned to see Jess, a sheepish smirk on her face. “Thought I’d wait to explore with you.”

“Okay.” In the produce section he found something not rotten yet. “Hey, Jess. Washington apples. He bit into one; it tasted bland, but great compared to the fruit he hadn’t been eating. He tossed one to Jess and she did the same her smirk turning to a grin as she wiped juice off her face. The putrid stench drove them back outside, but he took the rest of the good apples in a basket. He left them in the Jeep while Jess continued up the dusty street.

The motorcycle shop across the street caught Mannie’s eye. He hadn’t liked motorcycles since burning his leg on the manifold of a dirt bike as a kid. Too dangerous, but he did like the idea of an escape pod if the jeep broke down. Maybe he should find a bicycle. Better than on foot, but in the snow? Brrr. A snowmobile would be good.

A crash pulled his attention off the bikes. “Jess?” he hollered. Another smash kicked in his adrenaline. He hobbled back to the Jeep and pulled the 870 shotgun from its case.