Westport Page 4

  "But this is..."

  "What, different? Listen, we were all around Jenn while she was sick, and none of us have come down with any symptoms. She got sick after what, half a day?"

  He nods. "Something like that."

  "There's no reason to tell him about it, he'll start freaking out the first time one of us coughs."

  Larry taps her on the shoulder, then points to their right, toward the eastern shore. At first she can't see anything through the fog, and then it becomes obvious what they're looking at. Its another boat, and although its still some distance away, it seems to be heading in their direction.

  "What do we do?" she asks.

  Larry kills the engine, then turns to Beth. "Turn off the lights."

  Beth reaches to the light switches on the wall behind her and flips them both off. "What about down below?"

  "All of them, and no sound."

  She hurries down the ladder and runs through the small doorway that leads to the main cabin. Inside she sees Jake and Sean, both of them busy re-stacking the totes and bags that they've thrown haphazardly around the living area. They're both laughing about something when they look up and see the sober look on Beth's face. Their smiles instantly disappear.

  "What's wrong?" asks Jake.

  "Turn the lights off, and keep quiet." she whispers back.

  "What's going on?"

  "There's a boat coming toward us. We have to disappear — now."

  Without hesitating, Jake quickly turns off all the lights in the cabin, while Beth turns off the lights to the stern deck. Every trace of the moon overhead has been obscured by the fog that's settled over the water, and as a result the cabin is suddenly swallowed up into complete darkness. Still standing in the doorway, hearing only the water lapping against the side of the boat, Beth realizes that her heart is pounding so hard that its almost uncomfortable.

  "Does anyone have a flashlight, just in case?" she whispers.

  "I have my phone if we need it, there's a flashlight app on it." answers Sean.

  With her heart still racing, she slowly feels her way into the room and finds a seat near the starboard window. At first she can't see anything, then her eyes slowly begin to adjust to the darkness. Off in the distance, and still dim through the fog, she can see the lights of the other boat again.

  "Its out there, on the right side."

  She can hear the other two as they make their away across the cabin, finally settling onto the same bench she's sitting on.

  "See it?"

  They both answer. "Yeah."

  "Jake, do you have your gun on you?" she asks.

  "No, I left it in the bedroom."

  "I have mine." answers Sean.

  "Good, keep it handy. Just don't shoot one of us."

  "I'll try my best." he says jokingly. He can't see it, but Beth isn't amused. She knew all along that he was probably armed, and she wasn't exactly happy about it — except for this one instance.

  "Its getting closer." Jake says, a hint of concern in his voice for the first time since they left the dock.

  He was right, it was getting closer — a lot closer. Beth couldn't tell if it was heading straight for them or not. What she could tell was that their engines were at or near full throttle by the sound now making its way into the cabin. Only moments later she can hear them slow down, but not stop. Even though the boat is relatively close now, only a few hundred feet, she still can't make out any details on it — not even the size of it. All she can see are the blurred yellow lights filtered through a thickening wall of mist.

  "They have to see us." whispers Jake.

  "I don't think so. That light has to be reflecting off the fog quite a bit." Sean replies. "Its not headed directly for us either."

  Beth watches as the boat moves behind them, then slows down again — this time to a crawl. With the cabin door still open, a subdued light is now leaking into the area around them, illuminating the hallway just enough for Beth to see Sean with his pistol pointed toward the door.

  The boat is moving at a painstakingly slow speed around to their port side, shortening its distance as it does. As much as they want to, none of them make a move to the other side for fear they might be seen or heard. Instead, they sit and wait for what seems like forever, occasionally having to remind themselves to breath. Then everything goes quiet, deathly quiet, and the lights of the other boat go out. For a moment Beth wonders if it was actually real, or just some ghost ship they all hallucinated — a figment of their collective minds. The silence doesn't last long though. They can all hear a voice, loud and clear, coming from the boat that's sitting less than fifty feet off their port side.

  "Is everybody okay over there?" a man's voice asks in a concerned tone. Then more quietly... "Hit the light."

  Just a few seconds after hearing those words the cabin is filled with a bright white light. All three, who were still sitting on the bench, drop to the floor and hide behind the bench on the opposite side. Sean immediately starts coughing the moment his body hits the carpet. A deep, painful cough that he tries to muffle inside the crook of his arm. Beth knows that if they didn't see them, they could certainly hear Sean's coughing.

  "Shh... They're going to hear you." she whispers to him.

  Red in the eyes, and still struggling not to cough, Sean finally manages to stay quiet. "No shit."

  "Are you okay?" Jake asks him.

  "Yeah, just breathed in some dust. I'm fine."

  "Do you guys think we might be overreacting?" asks Beth.

  "No." answers Sean. "These guys aren't just out searching for somebody to help. If they were, they wouldn't have shut off their lights when they spotted us."

  Before she has an opportunity to respond, the man speaks again, his voice sounding calm and reassuring. "Listen, we know you're in there, and we don't want any trouble — but there's a quarantine in place that prohibits any travel across county or state lines."

  Beth feels a tap on her shoulder, and when she turns around she sees Sean pointing against the starboard wall opposite them. Two red laser marks are darting around.

  "Where are you heading?" the man asks.

  They can hear a voice above them, in a tone more commanding than Beth had ever heard from Larry. She'd almost forgot about him up in the pilothouse.

  "Friday Harbor, we were just down here for the weekend."

  Beth knows instantly what Larry is doing. Friday Harbor is a town in the San Juan Islands, in the opposite direction of where they're headed.

  "I'm afraid you'll have to turn back around and head into Hoodsport, at least until the quarantine is over."

  "That's not going to work. We're going to Friday Harbor, one way or the other."

  "Is that a threat?"

  "We don't want any trouble either, but if that's how it ends up, so be it. I can guarantee we have the firepower."

  Sean looks thrilled, giving Beth and Jake an enthusiastic thumbs up. They clearly don't feel the same way. They know Larry, they know how out of the ordinary this is, and they hope he's not finally cracking under the pressure. They can hear talking from across the water, but the voices are too low to make anything out. After a minute or two the light goes out, leaving them in the dark once again, followed by the roar of an engine as the boat moves to the south.

  "Are you guys okay down there?" yells Larry.

  "Yes, we're fine!" answers Beth, not bothering to whisper anymore.

  The lights on the stern deck come on, and they can hear Larry making his way down the ladder, his gun still in his hand. When he reaches the cabin he flips on the lights, his face and clothes drenched in sweat.

  "We'll wait a few minutes before taking off again, but we're gonna have to run with minimal lights from here on out."

  "What the hell was all of that?" Beth asks. "We're threatening cops now?"

  "Those weren't cops."

  "How do you know that?"

  "Because they were in Sam Keller's boat, and Sam left for Alaska two days ago — along wi
th his wife and kids."

  "They also didn't identify themselves." adds Sean.

  Larry walks to a cabinet at the front of the cabin and pulls out a gun and a box with several small flashlights in it. He drops the box onto the bench in front of the other three, then hands the gun to Beth.

  "From now on, everyone carries a gun and a flashlight — day or night. No exceptions."

  Sometimes after having a bad day, a good nights sleep can make all the difference in the world. You wake up and realize that what seemed catastrophic the night before wasn't actually so bad in the light of the next day. It really makes no difference how or why it happens, sometimes the weight of the world somehow seems to disappear the moment your head hits the pillow.

  Sometimes.

  For Sarah Lockwood, that didn't happen.

  Her night was filled with endless thoughts about what was happening around them, and what might happen if even one member of her family became sick. When she did manage to fall asleep it was only for a few short minutes, and even those were occupied by strange dreams about stressful situations, most of them concerning her husband. She still didn't know quite what to think of Curtis' motives, but she began to notice things about him that she didn't see the day before — a coping mechanism that whether by design or by accident, seemed to work. He was throwing every ounce of effort into making a new life here, as if their life in Portland never existed. Watching him now she hopes his enthusiasm rubs off on her, and on their kids. More than that, she hopes this madness will end soon, and that the life they once knew will return to them again. Right now it was beginning to feel like a distant memory.

  Curtis started the day out by promising that their next night would be spent inside the cabin — a bold move considering the shape that it was in. Nonetheless, Sarah was determined not to be negative from here on in, or at least until nightfall. He said their first priority would be to burn anything flammable that was of no use to them, inside or out. For Sarah and Ben that meant using some of the tools in the cabin to tackle the monstrous tangle of blackberry vines that now surrounded it. Curtis said he would clean out the inside of the building itself, and Matt quickly volunteered to listen to the handheld radio for the day, as though it were a job they all despised. Ignoring Sarah's disapproving looks, Curtis agreed to let him.

  By late-afternoon, their hard efforts managed to turn a small clump of branches and firewood into a slash pile that rivaled the cabin in size.

  "Isn't this getting a little large, considering its so close to the cabin?" Sarah asks Curtis.

  "Everything is so wet I doubt it'll burn at all. We can start another pile on the other side if it makes you feel better."

  "What's in the box?"

  Curtis looks down at the open cardboard box he's carrying. "Stuff from the cabin."

  "Like what?"

  He smiles a little. "You don't want to know. They used to be alive."

  "You're right, I don't want to know. How is it looking in there?"

  "Its not fancy, but another hour or two and I think it'll be livable."

  She looks at the picnic table where Matt is sitting, the radio firmly in his hands. "Maybe you should talk to him, try to get his mind off the radio, and everything else."

  "Yeah, I've been thinking the same thing. We haven't really talked to them about all of this."

  "Maybe the three of you can check out the beach while I make dinner. We can finish this up afterward."

  As Curtis approaches the picnic table, he can hear the same robotic voice he's been listening to for days, likely giving the same worthless advice too.

  "Any news?" he asks.

  "They keep repeating the same stuff, even the music."

  "Music?"

  "Yeah, some of the stations are playing music, but they're just playing them over and over again."

  "Have they said anything about the hospitals?"

  "Just to stay away, the same as before."

  The lack of news doesn't really surprise Curtis. Either the news reports are being controlled by the government, or the reporters themselves have disappeared. One is just as likely as the other. Curtis reaches out and takes the radio from Matt and switches it off.

  "Go get your brother, we're gonna check out the beach."

  "What about the radio? What if we miss something?"

  "The rest of the world will wait for us, I promise. Now go get your brother before we run out of daylight."

  Although the cabin is only a short distance from the ocean, walking there is anything but easy, especially for a slightly out-of-shape guy that's spent most of the last several years sitting behind a desk. There isn't one straight stretch on the trail leading from the cabin to the highway, which gives you the feeling that you're following in the footsteps of a drunk. The part after the highway — which is most of the distance — winds its way through a maze of sand dunes, each one higher and less stable than the last.

  "Do you hear that?" asks Matt.

  "Hear what?" replies Curtis.

  "It sounds like a woman."

  Curtis stops, then motions for the boys to do the same.

  "Do you hear it?" Curtis asks Ben.

  Ben listens, then nods in the affirmative. Curtis tries to tell himself that he's distracted by the other sounds of the beach — like seagulls, wind and the crashing of the surf. Deep down though, he realizes that his ears aren't so young anymore, and that age has selectively tuned out the parts of life it no longer finds interesting. Then suddenly, he hears it too — and its definitely a woman. What Matt didn't pick up on, and apparently still doesn't judging from his lack of response, are the blood-curdling screams coming from her — like every part of her soul is in agony.

  "Follow me, and don't talk." he whispers.

  He leads them back toward the highway about twenty feet or so, and into a crescent-shaped pocket that the wind has carved into the dunes. Like most of the dunes along the coast, this one only has grass growing on it, providing little to no protection from being seen.

  "It sounds like she's screaming." whispers Ben, in a voice so low Curtis could barely make it out.

  "Shh. I know she's screaming."

  The screams were coming from the beach, and they didn't seem to be getting any closer as far he could tell. There were only one or two dunes between them and a clear shot of the beach, and he wanted more than anything to see for himself what was going on — but he also couldn't leave his sons behind, not as scared as they were.

  "I'm going to peak over the dune and take a look, but I need you two to stay here."

  "But..." starts Matt.

  "I'll be right over there, in plain sight of you. Can I trust you?"

  They both nod, more out of fear than anything else. As he makes his way up the dune, crawling on his stomach the entire way, he realizes that Sarah might be able to hear the screaming too. After a quick glance back toward the highway, which still looks empty, he decides the sound of the yelling probably wouldn't carry as far as the sound of the surf does — at least he hopes that's the case. The last thing they needed right now was for her to come running down the trail.

  When he finally reaches the top, it doesn't take him long to spot the woman. She's standing at the edge of the water, facing the ocean, stark naked, with both arms raised straight in the air. Very slowly, she lowers them down to her waist, then stops the maniacal screaming. After standing there silently for a moment, watching the waves crash against her bare feet, she bends down and picks something up. He can't see what it is, but she's clutching it to her chest like it means the world to her. Looking straight ahead again, she turns around and faces the dunes. Curtis immediately ducks, afraid she might be able to see him somehow. When he looks up again, he's horrified at what he sees. The woman looks awful. Her hair is dirty and tangled, her face and chest are covered in what looks like vomit, and her eyes look cold and vacant, like someone in a trance. Its hard to guess how old she is. She could be twenty-eight or eighty-eight — neither age would surprise hi
m. She takes what he can now clearly see is a knife, and begins to violently slash at her own throat, making absolutely no sounds while she does it — she doesn't even look upset. After several hard thrusts he can see blood running down her arm and into the water at her feet — a sight that makes his stomach turn — but it doesn't seem to faze her. He looks back at his boys, hoping his face doesn't give away the gruesome images now seared into his mind, then he looks back at the woman. At first he doesn't see her, and then he notices a crumpled mass stretched out across the sand — motionless and pale.

  His first instinct is to walk down to the water, out of curiosity if nothing else. If this were any other time he probably would have— but as bizarre as the scene was, he knows with absolute certainty what caused it, and that the same thing would undoubtedly happen to him if he were to go anywhere near her body. He'd heard rumors about what happened to some of the sick, rumors that until today he disregarded as wild stories and outright lies. He felt sorry for the woman, sorry that she was driven to such madness, and scared that even in the most remote corners of his world, the sickness had still found them.

  He slides back down the dune and walks back to where his sons are still hiding, motioning for them to get up.

  "Let's go back home, it'll be dark soon."

  "What happened to the woman?" asks Matt.

  "Nothing happened to her."

  "Why was she screaming?"

  "I don't know, maybe she thought she was alone. We all do strange things when we're alone sometimes."

  "Is she going to be alright?"

  He stops them, then looks both of them in their eyes. "Listen to me. The only thing in the world that's important to us now is our family, that's just how it is right now. Just the four of us."

  "And Annie..." says Ben.

  Curtis hangs his head down, feeling horrible about forgetting his oldest child so easily. The guilt has been intolerable in the week leading up to this move, but up until this moment he hadn't realized how far her thought had slipped from his mind.

  "Of course, and Annie."