The Dog Page 5

  “Tire tracks,” Jon says suddenly.

  He stops, and I stop too. It takes a moment, but finally I see that the dirt road has changed slightly, as if another car has passed through while we were up on the hill.

  “Maybe it's her,” he stammers, setting off through the grass. “Maybe Julie's here!”

  I run after him, although I have to be careful to make sure I don't get too far ahead. It takes a while for us to reach the edge of the forest, and I can tell that Jon is already getting a little weak, but he doesn't slow much.

  Eventually we get back to the cabin, and I'm shocked to see a second car parked out front.

  “That's not Julie's,” Jon says cautiously, slowing a little just as the cabin's door swings open and an older man steps out onto the porch and stops next to the rifle, which is leaning against the wall.

  ***

  “What do you mean?” Jon asks as he and the man sit at the table inside. “What kind of outbreak?”

  “It's been going on for a few days now,” the man replies wearily. His name, as far as I can tell, seems to be Richard. “There were reports in the news about people getting sick, but there were so many other big stories around, I don't think many of us paid a whole lot of attention. And then the power went out and the phones stopped working, and that's when it really seemed serious.” He pauses. “So is it just the two of you up here?”

  “Go back a moment,” Jon says. “You said people were getting sick. What was wrong with them?”

  “I don't know. At first, it was just like a kind of fever. I heard about a few friends catching it, and I started taking precautions, you know? Just to make sure I didn't pick it up myself. I thought it was like some kind of flu, and the TV said not to worry too much. But then...”

  He pauses, staring down at his trembling hands. His heart is pounding and I can tell he's scared.

  “I keep thinking I'm going to wake up,” he continues finally. “The things I saw after it got worse... Sick people in the streets, healthy people trying to defend themselves... When it finally got really bad, it just escalated so goddamn fast. Before you knew it, all the sick people were dying and then they...”

  He falls silent for a moment.

  “Then they what?” Jon asks.

  Richard pauses, before glancing at him.

  “They died,” he explains. “All of a sudden, it seemed like people were dropping like flies. And that seemed bad, but it got worse 'cause then they started to... come back.”

  Jon stares at him. “What... What do you mean by that?”

  “I didn't believe it at first,” Richard continues. “I thought it was a joke, just a kind of prank people were playing. But then I saw it for myself. All these dead people, once they'd been cold for a few hours, they just started to get back up, except this time they weren't really themselves, you know? They were... Like, you could see they were dead, but they were walking around and they went after everyone else.” He sighs. “I know this sounds crazy. I saw it with my own eyes, and I still don't quite know whether to believe it. Maybe I just lost my mind, maybe...”

  His voice trails off. After a moment, he looks down at me and smiles, and then he reaches over and starts stroking the back of my head. I let him, for now, but his touch feels stiff, as if he's more tense than he wants to let on.

  “You're making it sound like there was some kind of zombie outbreak,” Jon says eventually. “I mean, that's... It's ridiculous.”

  Richard nods. “I know.”

  “Things like that just don't happen.”

  “I know.”

  “So you must be...”

  “I must be what?” Richard asks, still stroking my fur. “Making it up? I wish that were the case. If you don't believe me, you've got a car, go see for yourself. It's chaos back there.”

  They sit in silence for a moment. Richard seems to be enjoying stroking me, but Jon looks more worried than ever.

  “Finally I just figured I had to get out of there,” Richard continues. “People were dying, and more and more were getting sick. I don't have any family, not anymore, so it's not like I had to go searching for anyone. I just grabbed whatever I could fit in my car, and I drove away. I didn't even know where I was going, to be honest, but I knew I couldn't stick around. If I'd stayed, I'd be...”

  He pauses.

  “I'd be dead by now, I reckon. Everyone in the cities was...”

  Another pause.

  “It seemed to spread so fast,” he adds finally. “Faster than anyone could do anything about, anyway.”

  Getting to his feet, Jon heads over to the counter and grabs a couple of water bottles. He freezes for a moment, just staring at the bottles, and then slowly he turns to look at Richard.

  “You want me to believe that the whole world out there has just... collapsed? Seriously?”

  “Before the power went out,” Richard replies, “they were saying on the TV that people were getting sick all over the country, and abroad too. America, Europe, Asia... It seemed like everywhere was getting hit. Air travel was spreading it, they reckoned. They announced they were shutting all the airports temporarily, but I guess that was too little, too late. No-one seemed to know where the sickness started, or what to do about it.” He looks down at me. “This is a nice dog you've got here. He must be very useful.”

  Jon pauses. “So how do I know you're not sick?”

  “You'll just have to take my word on that. Trust me, anyone who gets this thing, they deteriorate pretty fast. The TV was saying symptoms set in after just a few hours. It seems like flu at first, but it quickly gets worse. To be honest, I was scared I might be infected, but it's been a few days now since I last saw anyone, and I'm sure I'd be dead by now if I was a carrier.”

  He stares at Jon for a moment.

  “What about you? How long have you and your dog been up here?”

  “A week now. My girlfriend was supposed to join us a few days ago.”

  “So you came just before it hit, huh?”

  Jon nods. “Looks that way.”

  “There aren't many people left,” Richard continues. “I'm sorry to break it to you, but when I drove out of the city the other day, the streets were... Well, let's just say that there was no sign of anyone. I think a few people, the smart ones, headed west, hoping they'd run into some help out there. There was talk of some kind of rendezvous or meeting place at the Rarrah Valley, where survivors might be able to get together. Maybe I should've gone that way too, but this doesn't seem like the time to be mingling with large groups of people. I ended up coming out here instead, and then last night I spotted a light up here. I very nearly kept on driving, but I figured a light probably meant someone was alive. So I figured I'd come take a look.”

  “You went past the gas station?” Jon asks cautiously. “Did you see...”

  “Two of them,” he replies, nodding. “Yeah, they're down there. I damn near hit one of them with my car, but I had to keep driving. These things, once they come back from the dead... They're vicious. Slow, but vicious. I saw...”

  He sighs again.

  “I don't even want to think about what I saw. I'll tell you one thing, though. I don't know if it's ever going to go back to normal. I kept waiting for the cavalry to show up, but I think the cavalry's probably sick too.”

  “It'll get better,” Jon tells him. “It has to.”

  “You reckon?”

  “Of course.” He carries the water over and passes a bottle to Richard. “The world is not going to collapse into chaos just because a few people got sick.”

  “It's not just a few, my friend, it's -”

  “It's still not going to happen!” Jon sounds agitated now. “There are doctors, people who can figure it out.”

  “The doctors all seemed completely overwhelmed. I reckon they were the worst hit, too. They were on the front-line when people started going to hospital, so most of them...”

  His voice trails off.

  “It can't be that bad,” Jon says firmly
. “Someone'll take charge.”

  “I wish I agreed with you,” Richard replies, “but I saw it with my own eyes. I saw bodies in the streets, and I saw those things too.” He takes a swig of water. “I hope I'm wrong, but it sure looked like the end of the world.” Glancing down at me, he forces a smile and ruffles the fur on the back of my neck, but I immediately get to my feet and hurry over to Jon, settling next to him.

  “It's okay,” Jon says, reaching down and stroking my back. “Everything'll be okay, I promise.”

  He sounds worried, and I'm worried too. Richard might smell okay, but there's something about him that I really don't like, even though he's smiling at me and trying to be friendly. My instincts are telling me to be careful around this new arrival. He's lying about something.

  Chapter Nine

  “What do you think?” Jon whispers a short while later, as he takes a few more logs from the pile around the back of the cabin. “Should I let him stay? You've had a good sniff of him. Do you think he's crazy?”

  I brush the side of my face against his leg, just to get a little more of his scent on me, and more of mine on him. If I reinforce our shared pack identity, maybe he'll realize that Richard doesn't belong with us.

  “Everything he told me sounded insane,” he continues, still keeping his voice down. “He was describing some kind of zombie apocalypse, and he kept a completely straight face the whole way through. I know we saw some pretty strange stuff at the gas station, but that doesn't mean the whole world is falling apart. Maybe this Richard guy is just some lunatic who thinks he can play a prank on us. Things can't be as bad as he made out.”

  He pauses for a moment, clearly lost in thought.

  “Maybe he can stay for one night,” he adds finally, stepping past me and carrying the wood back around to the cabin's front door. “At least until we get this all figured out. If he's lying, he'll trip up eventually. And if somehow he's telling the truth... I guess we need all the information we can get.”

  I follow, and when we get to the other side of the cabin I see that Richard has opened the trunk of his car and is taking out some boxes. Even from here, I'm picking up on the smell of food wafting from the trunk, but there are other scents too. Lots of different people have touched the boxes, some of them only a few hours ago. Stepping closer, I tilt my head slightly in an attempt to get a better sniff.

  “I know it's not much,” Richard says, turning to Jon and holding one of the boxes out, “but I'm afraid it's all I can offer right now. I don't mean to intrude on you, and to be honest I think I might head off tomorrow, but if you don't mind me resting here for the night... I guess I'm offering to share with you. Seems like the right thing to do, in the circumstances.”

  “I'll see what I can find for us to eat this evening,” Jon replies, as a few spots of rain start to fall. “I guess if what you said earlier is true, we should start thinking about conserving supplies.”

  I step closer to the open trunk. There's not just food in there, there's also something else, maybe a trace of blood.

  Suddenly the trunk slams shut, and Richard ruffles the top of my head. I pull away, not liking the way he touches me.

  “I bet you'd love to get in there, huh?” he says with a smile, before turning and carrying the box over toward the cabin. “It's going to rain, maybe even a storm. If you want my advice, I think you should gather every spare container you can find, and use them to collect water. You never know when a good stock might come in handy, although...”

  He sets the box down, and then rifles through the contents before pulling out a bottle of dark brown liquid.

  “I happen to have a bottle of whiskey here, and... Well, I don't much fancy drinking it alone. I reckon opportunities for a little companionship are only going to get less common soon, so if you like, I'd happily open this and share it with you. One for the road, so to speak.”

  “I never thought I'd be so glad to see a bottle of whiskey,” Jon replies, before heading into the cabin. “I figure we might as well cook outside. I'm not even very hungry, but we need to keep our strength up.”

  “We sure do,” Richard mutters, watching as Jon goes inside. Turning to me, he stares for a moment, as if he's studying me. “Well, you sure look like a nice hound,” he says finally, coming closer with the bottle still in his right hand. “I bet a good dog would be useful out here. Are you a decent barker, boy? Can you bark if you see or hear someone approaching who maybe shouldn't be around?”

  He reaches out to pat me, but I step back.

  “That's okay,” he continues. “You'll get used to me. Maybe you can even hop in the car with me when I leave. I could use a dog.”

  I don't know what he's saying, but everything about this man makes me nervous. He has the eyes of a liar, and I've noticed that he seems to be studying Jon's every move, almost as if he's trying to figure out his weaknesses. Jon appears to be oblivious, apparently thinking that Richard can be trusted, but I'm not going to let my guard down tonight. I haven't slept for days, but pure fear is keeping me awake.

  He puts a hand on the side of my face.

  Pulling back, I let out a faint growl.

  “What's wrong,” he continues, “don't you like me?”

  I keep my eyes fixed on him. I can't afford to let him think that I'm weak.

  “Looks like you've got some meat on your bones too,” he mutters, peering around to look at my flank. “Never know when that might come in handy, either.”

  He tries to pat me again. This time I slip past him and hurry to the steps, making my way up and then through the door until I find Jon in the kitchen. Sitting next to his feet, I turn and see that Richard is already following. I want to bark, to warn him away, but Jon seems to have invited him inside so I guess I have to give him a chance. If he tries anything, however, I'll be ready.

  ***

  “No, I'm sorry,” Richard says later, as the three of us sit on the porch and watch the sunset. Rain is pouring down, crashing against the roof and hissing as it hits the grass. “I don't remember hearing anything about the hospital, at least not near the end. I know they were pretty much on the front-line when the sickness broke out. I guess they must've been overwhelmed.”

  He grabs the bottle and holds it out toward Jon.

  “Refill?”

  “Just one more, thanks,” Jon replies, watching while Richard pours more of the liquid into his glass. “I think I need to keep a clear head.”

  “You and me both,” Richard replies, setting the bottle back down and leaning back in the chair. He has a glass of the brown liquid too, but he's only drunk a few sips so far. Less than Jon. “I was thinking, if I pass a well-stocked liquor store, I should get some more. Might not get another chance. Not ever.” He sniffs. “Of course, wine's more my fancy. I didn't have any family before this all started, but I must admit, I'm rather heartbroken by the thought that I might never again taste a decent bottle of red.”

  “Things'll get better,” Jon mutters, taking another look at his black rectangle.

  “None of the phones are working,” Richard tells him.

  “I know, but they have to come on again some time.”

  “Do they?”

  Jon nods.

  “Why?” Richard asks.

  “They just have to. The world can't disappear.”

  “Who said anything about the world disappearing? The world is still all around us. Humanity, on the other hand, is in a rather sorry state.”

  “That'll change.”

  Richard smiles. “Maybe this is our inevitable fate as a species. Maybe this is Mother Nature's way of cutting us back down and changing the order. We became too arrogant.”

  Jon mutters something under his breath as he continues to tap the rectangle.

  “What's her name?” Richard asks finally.

  Jon turns to him. “What do -”

  “I can see it in your eyes,” Richard continues with a smile. “You're not like me. You've got someone out there, someone you're worried
about. Come on, there's no point pretending.”

  Jon pauses for a moment. “Her name's Julie,” he says finally. “She's a doctor, she works in the ER. That's why I asked you about the hospital.”

  “Right.” Richard nods. “I'm sorry I couldn't give you better news. She's dead, you know.”

  “You don't -”

  “Yes I do,” Richard adds, interrupting him. “I do know. They're all dead, barring a few straggling survivors here and there. Unfounded hope won't do you any good, my friend. God knows why you and I are among the survivors, but we must face the truth.”

  He raises his glass.

  “A toast. To the hoards of mankind who died over the past week. All those millions, probably billions. To their memory, and to the future.”

  He holds his glass close to Jon.

  “Not going to join me in a toast?”

  “Julie's still alive,” he says firmly. “I know what she's like. If anyone -”

  Richard starts laughing.

  “She's smart,” Jon continues, before taking another big sip from his glass. “If anyone can muddle through, it's her. I know she'll be fine.”

  “Here's hoping,” Richard replies, holding his glass up. “A toast to your girl Julie, then, and to her chances. Who am I to crush your rampant optimism?”

  They clink their glasses together. Jon takes a big gulp, but Richard merely sips a little while keeping his eyes fixed firmly on Jon. I never like it when Jon drinks this kind of strange liquid, and I can see from the look on his face that he's already getting sleepy.

  “It's a real nice place you've got here,” Richard continues, looking toward the forest as the rain continues. “High ground, good visibility, far from the main road. Hell, I'd never have stumbled upon the place if I hadn't spotted a light up here last night. Plus, you've got that lake, so there's always going to be water. Good soil, too. Nice and remote.” He pauses, clearly lost in thought. “A man could keep himself alive in a place like this. Or he'd have a good chance, anyway. No-one to blame but himself if he messed it up.”