Page 31 of The Midnight Hour
Maybe they could get her.
It’s crazy. Daniel knows it’s crazy. And foolish, and maybe even a death wish for not just him—he doesn’t care about himself, not anymore—but for Sam.
And yet…it feels like redemption, both for his soul and in his son’s eyes. If he rescues his mother-in-law, if he somehow, against all odds and expectations, manages to bring her back to the cottage, to Alex…
Will that atone for shooting that boy, for leaving the others, and not even caring if they all died? Will it make up for the many people he’s ignored, looking the other way rather than risking his life, his son’s life, to save an innocent? Will it somehow soften the calluses that have grown around his soul, so he doesn’t even recognize himself anymore, this weary, mercenary, hard-faced stranger?
There is, he knows, only one way he can discover the answer to those questions.
THIRTEEN
ALEX
The sign for 22Wing/Canadian Forces BaseNorth Bay is made of stone on a concrete plinth, with a tattered Canadian flag on one side and a US one on the other. There are also two guys in camo with semiautomatic rifles, one standing by each flag, unsmiling and at attention. One of them aims his rifle at us while the other one flags us down. All around us the air base stretches out like a small city, surrounded by chain-link fencing topped with razor wire, although this appears to be the entrance.
“Step out of the car with your hands in the air,” the guy calls out. “If you are carrying a weapon, concealed or otherwise, you will be shot. I repeat, you will be shot.”
His voice is matter-of-fact, almost bored, as if he were telling us to put our phones and keys in the tray at airport security. Daniel and I glance at each other, and I know what we’re both thinking. Is this the start of blessed safety—or a trap?
We’ve been driving along the road from North Bay to the base for nearly half a mile, up a hill, past an airport, empty and abandoned-looking as everything else, the deep blue of Lake Nipissing visible below us, fringed with evergreens. I hadn’tquite realized, when Nicole had talked about it, just howbigthis place was, and that was without considering the sixty floors underground somewhere.
I could hardly believe we’d made it here so quickly; Route11 had been a straight shot, just as we’d hoped, and we’d only seen a couple of cars on the road, and none as big as ours. Some things, it seemed, were still easy.
Was this?
“Out of the car,” the man barks, less pleasantly this time, and slowly Daniel opens the driver’s side door, weaponless, his hands in the air. “Everybody, follow the man’s orders,” he tells our motley crew, his voice deliberately calm, and next to me the woman we picked up two hours ago whimpers.
She was the only unexpected aspect of our trip; we came across her fifty miles back, trudging along the side of the road and holding a baby. I thought we’d just drive by, but then Daniel pulled over hard, tires squealing, and got out of the truck.
“Dad—” Mattie began, only to fall silent.
“Let’s see where she’s going, at least,” he said, and there was a steely note to his voice I think we all clocked but didn’t really understand. Everybody watched as he stepped out of the truck, and for a second, as he stared at the woman, he looked defeated, even despairing. Then he squared his shoulders and walked over to her, speaking gently, his head bent close to hers. I saw him glance down at the baby, his expression ready to soften into an isn’t-he-cute look, only for his whole body to stiffen, his face contorting with shock and then something that looked like a deep sadness, akin to grief, almost as if, for a few seconds, he might weep.
“We don’t have room for her,” Mattie whispered. “Do we?”
“Ruby can sit on my lap.” It wouldn’t be comfortable, but I could manage it for fifty miles.
The woman didn’t speak or even seem to see Daniel,but she didn’t resist when, with his hand on her shoulder, he led her back to the truck. Sam moved into the back and she clambered into the truck next to me, her face a blank mask, her eyes unfocused. The baby she cradled in her arms looked tiny and wizened and still…and very clearly dead. Shocked, I glanced at Daniel, who pressed his lips together and shook his head. It was clear this woman, whoever she was, wasn’t giving up her child, and I couldn’t really blame her. Still, it made for an uneasy journey to North Bay, and whatever we found there…which now turns out to be more guns.
With the two pseudo-soldiers pointing their rifles at us, we all slowly climb out of the truck, Ruby sliding off my lap, our hands thrown up in the air. I see Mattie and Sam exchange panicked glances, and Kyle looks both resolute and like he might cry.
I don’t think these guys will shoot us; they feel more reassuringly like normal military, although I’m pretty sure they’re not. They’re dressed in a random assortment of camo and military gear, like two guys playing some serious dress-up. The looks on their faces are serious, too, and their rifles are unwavering as they point them right at us. Maybe I should be more scared, but I’m so desperate to feel safe, to not have to be in charge, even if just for a little while, that right now all I can do is stand there, swaying slightly, my hands up like I’m at a rave.
I glance around at the various buildings spread out along the road—they all look innocuous, flat-roofed and utilitarian, some more modern than others.
“We heard that CFBNorth Bay was a safe place,” Daniel says into the silence. “That you were…accepting people, to…to live here.”
“You’ll need to come into our decontamination unit,” the first man states by way of reply. “Once you’re clear, you’ll have an interview to determine your suitability for the NBSRC.”
“NBSRC?” Daniel repeats.
“The North Bay Survival and Resettlement Center. Did you leave the keys in the truck?”
Daniel nods. The man speaks into a walkie-talkie while the other gestures with his rifle for us to head through the chain-link gates to the parking lot with an aerodrome on one side, a concrete building on the other. We walk slowly, all huddled together, our hands still in the air, each step laden with trepidation. What are we walking into? And should we leave? Get away while we still can?
I’m not sure we have a choice anymore, because already the metal gates are clanging shut behind us, and one of the soldiers gets in the truck to drive it away. We might have just lost all our belongings. I glance at the woman we picked up; her head is bent as she croons to her dead baby, and she seems oblivious to what is going on. Mattie is holding Phoebe’s hand, and everybody still looks scared.
As we approach the building, two people emerge, dressed in the kind of inflated hazmat suits, complete with helmets, I associate with disaster movies. They look like a cross between construction workers and astronauts. They gesture for us to come into the building, their faces serious beneath their face shields.
