Page 58 of The Midnight Hour
At this, Stratton stirs, blinking up at us blearily. His eyes are reddened, his face twisted with hate. “You are so out of here,” he half grunts, half snarls at Sam. “And that’s if you’re lucky.”
Has Stratton been listening to everything we’ve said? The thought is more tiresome than alarming; something else we are going to have to deal with.
“How can we get a gun?” I wonder out loud. I feel like there must be a solution, but I just can’t see it. What I know is I’m not willing to walk out of here without some kind of weapon.
“Mom,” Sam says after a moment, his voice almost gentle, “maybe we don’t need guns.” I stare at him like he’s stupid, andhe continues, “Dad and I didn’t have guns when we traveled back to Ontario. We were without them the whole time because they’d been stolen right at the beginning, like, in the first five minutes. It wasn’t easy, but we made it. And anyway, most people…” He trails off, swallowing hard. “They’re dead now. Stratton said eighty percent, but I think it’s worse out there. People just can’t last that long. It’s…it’s pretty empty out there.” He lifts his arm to gesture to outside the base and, really, the whole world, empty as it now is. “I think we go without the guns.”
“I think so, too,” Mattie interjects with swift decisiveness. “We don’t have time to figure anything else out. We need to get out of here. We can decide the rest later.”
It goes against all my instincts, to be so vulnerable, but maybe my instincts are wrong. Maybe, in the end, those instincts haven’t been all that helpful or even good; a man is dead as a result, and my son is suspicious or maybe even scared of me. Still, the words are hard to say, never mind believe.
“All right,” I relent reluctantly. “We’ll go without guns.”
The next hours pass in a panicked and determined blur. We pick up William Stratton, Sam taking his arms and Kyle his legs, while he groggily protests and tries to shout, and then we lock him in a closet in the mess hall, in a scene reminiscent ofScooby-Doo. I’d laugh, if it weren’t so deadly serious, but Sam gets the vibe, because as we lock the door he murmurs, “If it weren’t for those meddling kids…”
I choke on a laugh, and he gives an abashed grin, and for a second we’re just us again; it doesn’t last longer than that.
We make it back to the house, managing to avoid the guards who patrol the streets after curfew, their flashlights cutting arcs of light through the darkness. Mattie and I start packing while Daniel stumbles groggily from the bedroom andRuby wakes up Phoebe and gets her dressed. Kyle has gone to find the car, and Sam to the warehouse, all of us knowing full well that any moment this could end in the NBSRC equivalent of arrest and imprisonment, eventual eviction, as good as a death sentence.
“What’s going on…” Daniel half mumbles, and I try my best not to notice how out of it he seems. It’s only eight o’clock.
As briefly as possible, I fill him in on what has happened and what we’ve decided. He blinks the sleep out of his eyes, becoming alert, his gaze darting from me to Mattie, who is hurling things into bags.
“Leave…” he repeats disbelievingly. “And go where?”
“Anywhere.”
“But the radiation?—”
“Sam said it’s not as bad as Duart makes out,” I tell him. “But if you’re worried about that, we’ll head north.”
Slowly Daniel shakes his head. “Alex, it’s November. It will befreezingup north. And there’s nothing much up there, besides some small towns and fishing camps.”
“Plenty of space, then,” I quip, and there’s an edge to my voice, because why is he protesting this? We have no choice. Doesn’t he realize that?
“It might be like the cottage all over again,” he warns me. “People hyped up, terrorizing the countryside…”
“It might not,” I counter, which isn’t much of an argument, but I haven’t got a better one. “It’s more remote out here than back at the cottage,” I continue doggedly, “and you know that’s saying something. Besides, I’m just not sure how many people are left. If we stay here, Sam will be forced to leave. We can’t have that, Daniel.”
The painful irony of the situation is not lost on me; a year ago, I was forcing Daniel to leave our safe haven to protect Sam. Now I’m doing the same thing all over again, and I know, for me as well as for Sam, he’ll do it—even if he thinks it’s dangerous,possibly a death sentence—and this time not just for him, but for all of us.
He heaves a sigh of acceptance. “So where exactly are we going?”
“I don’t know. We need a map, I guess.” And a lot of other things. “Sam’s getting some supplies, Kyle a car. We’ll meet up at the warehouse.” I make it sound so simple, when I know it is anything but.
“And what about Nicole and Ben?” Daniel asks, and I’m jolted as well as shamed, because the truth is, I didn’t even think about them.
“You mean…should they come with us?” I ask hesitantly.
“If they want to.”
“I…guess? I don’t know if they will.” Although if Stratton decides to go for Nicole the way he did Sam… “I don’t know where to find them,” I say, like an argument, or maybe a reason.
Daniel shrugs. “Maybe Sam will.”
“I suppose we can ask him,” I reply.
We don’t have time to talk any further because we have to go. Mattie takes Phoebe from Ruby and hoists her on her hip; after a sleepy protest, the little girl curls into her, her head on Mattie’s shoulder.
