Page 76 of The Midnight Hour
He drives for a few minutes, his knuckles white on the wheel, muttering under his breath, “They’ll be dead anyway. They’ll be dead anyway.” It sounds like the worst kind of prayer.
The dilapidated ranch house where his loved ones wait comes into view. Abruptly, Daniel slams on the brakes. Without even realizing he is going to do it, he swings the car around and starts driving back to the apartment building, his face set in grimly determined lines.
He pulls the car around to the back of the building, glancing around furtively, praying no one is watching him. Heneedsthis car to be here when he gets back. Then he locks the car and heads inside. The smell of decay seems worse as he walks through the empty, garbage-strewn halls, but maybe that’s just his imagination. On the top floor, he knocks once on the apartment door and then steps inside.
“Hello?” he calls out. There’s no answer. He walks slowly into the living room, where the woman is still lying on the sofa, but even from across the room Daniel can tell she is dead. His first, irrelevant thought is he wishes he’d thought to ask her name.
He walks over to stand next to her, staring down at her slack face, feeling a stirring of pity, but not much more. Then his gaze moves to the baby, who, he realizes, is still alive, her blue eyes open and seeming to stare straight at Daniel.
Tiffany. He knowshername, this motherless child who has no one, absolutely no one, in the world but him right now. Slowly he stoops to pick the baby up. She is far too light, her bones seeming as hollow as a bird’s, and, with a forgotten father’s instinct, he brings her to chest, his palm cradling her tiny head. She lets out a feeble cry, barely more than a breath. She is tiny, wizened, starving…and alone.
What on earth is he going to do? He glances again at the woman. Her eyes are wide open, her body motionless. She is most definitely dead.
Holding Tiffany, he goes through the apartment to find anything he can take with him—diapers, a bottle, baby clothes,something. There’s nothing but a few changes of baby clothes, all of them filthy. How long had this woman and her child been living here, alone, with nothing? Considering how empty the apartment is, it must have been a while.
He goes through the woman’s drawers, but what few clothes there are are too worn and dirty to bother with. A tangle of cheap jewelry lies on top of the dresser, worthless. There isn’t even any soap or shampoo in the tiny bathroom; everything has been used up.
All he can take with him, Daniel realizes, is the paltry stuff he found in the other apartments—and the baby.
His heart is like a lead weight inside him as he gathers the few things he found and puts them in a plastic shopping bag. The baby in his arms has gone silent and still, and for a second he wonders, half-hopes, that—but no. He can’t be the kind of monster who hopes that a baby is dead.
And yet…ababy. How on earth is he meant to care for a baby? He has no diapers, no bottle, no milk, no food…and this baby needs all of those things, fast. He considers bringing her back to Sam and Jenny, and can already imagine Sam becoming anxious, accusing.Dad, it’s a baby! We have to stay in Albany andfind some milk…
Already Daniel knows that getting Jenny was most likely a mistake. If he hadn’t listened to his son, if he hadn’t felt guilty and wrong for not being willing to go all the way to Springfield, they might already be back safe at the cottage. He might not have exposed them to as much radiation as he fears he has. Yes, they rescued Jenny, but Daniel can see with his own eyes, feel it in his gut, that his mother-in-law most likely doesn’t have that long left. Hopefully long enough to make it back, but…
Was it worth it? And would it be worth it to bring this baby along, slow them all down, expose them to more radiation, danger, starvation, who knows what else? There are so many risks, and he’s not strong enough to face them all.
He leaves the apartment, the unknown woman’s burial chamber, and heads down the hall, the baby cradled in one arm. Her eyes have closed, and her breathing is shallow. She is so very light.
Daniel’s steps slow. Falter. Briefly, he closes his eyes. He thinks of Sam, of Jenny, of the four hundred miles between him and home. For a moment, he lets himself think of Alex, of Ruby and Mattie, his family, waiting for him. Are they safe? Are theyalive? He’s been gone for over three months. He needs to get back to them, to protect and care for them as he swore to do…
He glances down at the baby in his arms, now barely breathing. A choked sound escapes him and then he gently lays her down in a doorway. Her eyes flutter open, stare straight at him, and then close again.
“I’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice choking, and then he walks quickly away.
He drives back to Sam and Jenny without taking any of his surroundings in. It isn’t until he comes back into the ranch house that he realizes he has been crying.
Sam, hunched on the sofa, looks up at him, startled. “Dad…what’s wrong?”
Daniel wipes his cheeks, hardens his heart. He will not lethimself think of that baby now, and maybe not ever, even as he already acknowledges he will always be thinking of her.Tiffany. She is part of him, now.
No.
He wipes his cheeks, nods once. “Let’s go,” he says. “I’ve got a car.”
“You do?”
“Yes,” Daniel replies without explaining, and then he turns away.
He’s sold his soul, he thinks, and he’d do it again for his family, no matter how wrong he knows that is. But it’s done now, he’s crossed that Rubicon, and the only way now is back home…to Alex.
He forces himself only to think of her as he and Sam load Jenny into the back of the car, and then they head north, to home.
“I can’t believe you got a car,” Sam marvels. “Where did you get it?”
“It was in a garage.”
Sam glances at him uncertainly. “Dad…are you okay?”
