The Surface, page 24
She looked again at the edge of the road and tried to make out what was happening in the yards behind the houses. But the rain muted everything. “I don't see anything,” she whispered to Gabby, despite the fact that the leaves around her continued to move in strange patterns.
It had been a minor miracle that they'd found the place so quickly. And another minor miracle had occurred—Ginnifer had regained consciousness. She was now alert enough that she could walk, although she still stumbled, weak and unsteady on her feet, but mostly alert.
Gabby supported Ginnifer on one side and Sky had her on the other. Together, they helped hold her weight as she worked to stay upright. This was easier than when they’d had to carry her. Though they all had hoods up against the rain, Joule could see all three were sweating from the work. She didn’t envy them.
Joule had almost volunteered for the duty, but quickly realized she would have not only dropped her charge at the first sign of danger, but she would have felt trapped the entire time. The bow in her hands meant everything. Though she was truly glad Ginnifer was getting better, there was still no love lost between her and her roommate.
Max, Cage, Roxie, Holly, and Dr. Kimura also walked at the perimeter of the little group. Like refugees, they kept their weak—Gabby, Sky, and Ginnifer—in the center. Those three were the piece that limited their progress. Everyone else was watching for predators.
“Stop!” Joule told them as she caught a slight movement from the right side of her vision.
“Stop!” she repeated when it seemed they hadn't all quite heard her. The group kept shuffling forward, but she planted her feet, aimed an arrow forward, and decided she would let the others run into her back if necessary. She would stop them one way or another. She wasn’t losing anyone else.
As the noise continued, Joule stood her ground, narrowed her vision and tried to block out the constant drumming of the rain. Her knees locked and her muscles tightened as her breathing shallowed out. It was an effort to keep calm, but she would need her steady breaths and sharp focus if she had to take proper aim at anything.
She watched as the movement that had seemed almost imaginary became real. The variation in the way the grass in the yard moved became consistent. The slight change in color through the gray of the rain became sharper.
“Holy fuckballs!” She heard the words whispered from Gabby's lips. Her friend was close enough that Joule could hear all the little terrors that every noise brought.
Gabby didn't even have her hands free; she was too busy holding onto Ginnifer. She could only watch as the snakes began to move out of the grass and migrate into the road.
There was nowhere to go. The group was far too massive.
“Stay still!” Joule hissed over her shoulder as she heard the exact same words from her brother. They could not draw attention to themselves. They’d never survive.
As Joule watched, her muscles tightened until they became brittle. Hundreds of snakes were moving out of the grass.
55
“Oh dear God.” Cage watched as the mass of snakes had moved across the road in what he could only assume was a migration.
He watched as one wound up Gabby’s leg while she stood still, trembling. He was as afraid as she was, as her dark eye caught his and held. He’d nodded slightly, trying to convey, You’ll be okay. But he’d felt a weight on the front of his boot.
He’d not let go of Gabby’s gaze, but he was certain at least one snake was moving up and over his foot.
Gabby would never let go of Ginnifer, though maybe she could have. She and Sky had simply held the other girl steady while the snakes crawled around her. Had she been too scared? Or just that brave? It didn’t matter.
The entire group had held their breath until the sandy colored snakes had declared them useless and passed to the other side of the road. Once again, Cage had been certain that his heart would pound its way out of his chest. But it was still attached. And he was still upright.
“Was anyone bitten? he whispered.”
“No.” It came back on varied whispers, though none of them had yet moved. Maybe these weren’t snakes that bit. Maybe they’d gotten lucky. He didn’t know.
Like ghosts, the group started moving again. Slowly at first, and then faster, until they were almost racing for the new house. Coming outside at all had been dangerous.
Cage felt his breath whoosh out in relief as he ducked inside the house. The last one in, he quickly shut the door behind him. Then, for good measure, he threw the bolt.
His shoulders sagged, his muscles all finally giving in. All nine of them had made it safely inside the house. He was simply glad that Kimura’s phone had finally died and he couldn’t stand there looking it up.
“Gotta get started,” Max told him as Cage sagged against the door.
Max wasn't wrong, but Cage wasn’t ready yet. He needed the moment to breathe, to let go of the fact that one of the snakes had slid right over the toe of his boot. He no longer had the energy for this.
“Let’s go.” Max seemed to have a hidden reserve that Cage couldn’t find for himself.
The original rain prediction had been for three days, but it had been going far longer than that. He wasn't even seeing weather predictions on any of the phone apps anymore, only the bright red alerts. Snake migrations had not even been one of the hazards they listed.
Max shrugged and replied, “At least it wasn't rattlesnakes.”
Cage didn't know what to tell him. They’d all watched as the pale snakes had slid by with almost exaggerated movements. He tried to dig up what little he knew… “Red on yellow kill a fellow.” But he didn’t know if that was right. Black on red, soon be dead. He had to be mixing them up, and these guys weren’t banded with bright colors. They didn’t blend in here, but they must be camouflaged somewhere.
He wanted to believe that the drab colors meant “not venomous,” but the heads… He was certain that the wide back of the head, the almost triangular shape was the mark of poison. He’d stood there with no real idea if he was watching a hundred harmless snakes migrate across the street in a sleepy, Northern California neighborhood, or if they'd all been five inches away from dying where they stood in the road.
Kimura hadn’t yet borrowed any of the remaining phones to produce a commentary. He didn’t have anything in his hands either, which led Cage to believe that he hadn’t found anyone willing to lend their last bit of juice to the research. The rest of them had all been hoarding their remaining power for maps and necessary searches. No one had even checked any social media, as far as he knew. He hadn’t gone on because he wasn’t sure what he’d find. Cage decided he was better off not knowing on that one…
They were inside again, and they were safe—he hoped—but they still didn't have a generator and they didn't really yet have the person who could cobble any power together.
Max waved a hand in front of Cage’s face to get his attention. “If you're not helping, at least don't hinder.”
It took everything Cage had to step aside. Could he bring himself to barricade yet another door?
Ultimately, it didn't matter what he felt like doing. It was about what had to be done. He pitched in, following Max’s orders, as Max didn’t seem to have his own mild PTSD about making barricades. It took a good thirty minutes of work, which had them sweating and peeling their sweatshirts and extra layers.
They’d all added what they could— “Wear instead of carry,” Joule had told them, and then reminded them that the rain was cold, and they couldn’t afford illness. With no real medical supplies available, everyone had quickly put on whatever they could wear and still move in. Cage himself had managed two pairs of jeans. There’d been a moment when the snake went over his boot that he’d wondered if two layers of denim and good rubber rain gear might be enough to stop a bite. Then again, Ginnifer had made it clear that one layer of denim and thin plastic rain gear was useless against fangs.
He’d peeled several items of clothing as they’d piled furniture in front of the doors and windows on the lower floor. They’d rationed the pieces, planning it out so they didn’t have to move anything too far. They’d put all hands on the bed in the back guest room and shoved the headboard to where it covered the windows. They’d piled things on top and covered most of the exposed glass, hoping that any creatures that couldn’t see inside wouldn’t want to come inside.
Near the back door, Max sat on the edge of the antique sideboard they had pushed up against the dining room window. They’d pulled the curtains and turned the beautiful teak table sideways, blocking as much of the glass as they could. Then they’d pushed the sideboard behind it, before adding weight to the top.
It had been hard work when he hadn’t been fed well enough, hadn’t slept in far too long, and was already exhausted.
Thinking that if he sat in the middle of the room, he might not get back up, he surveyed the space around him and then tugged on his friend’s sleeve. He shook his head and told Max, “Come on. We’re not done.”
When his friend frowned at him, he said, “I'm assuming the house was closed up before we got here and there's no wildlife inside. But I don't know that.”
He watched Max's eyes roll and he heard the word “Crap!” even though Max didn't say it out loud. He watched as his friend’s eyes darted back and forth. He was clearly wondering if anyone else had heard their conversation.
Cage shook his head tightly, as if hoping to convey that he didn't want to alert anyone else. At least not until it was necessary.
The two began working their way through the home, splitting up and systematically clearing room after room. Cage didn’t know if he should feel better that they didn't find anything or if he should be afraid that he and Max simply weren't qualified to do the search and they’d missed some important sign.
He came across a gun safe under one bed. The unlocked door had swung open easily to reveal a lone nine-millimeter, loaded and ready. Cage pulled it out and checked the safety before tucking it into the back of his waistband. It was a stupid place to keep a gun, but right now, the stupider place to keep it was under the bed.
“I think we're clear,” Max told him, finally sounding as beaten down as Cage felt. Cage straightened and nodded his agreement.
Then he followed Max into the hallway on the second floor and watched as his friend leaned against the wall and slid down until he was sitting. Whatever Max’s limit was, he’d reached it. “At least I hope we are.”
Cage joined his roommate and sat there for five minutes before his sister came up the hallway. He must have been asleep because he jolted when she said his name.
“Are you okay?” She squatted down to look him in the eyes, bending in a way he thought he might never bend again. Then again, she’d slept. Through a bear attack.
“I guess.” He tried to offer a smile.
She wasn’t taking it. “Everyone is in the main room.” She stood easily, motioning for him and Max to follow, as if her movement was enough to make it happen. Slowly, Cage pulled himself to his feet and headed down the stairs. She was out of sight before he and Max even started down the steps.
In the main room, only a few of the refugees remained awake. When they’d come in, everyone had piled their backpacks and bags in the center of this room. They’d brought the things they’d packed at the dorm as well as any un-destroyed food from the other house.
Though Cage and Joule had found a handful of canned items in the cabinets here, this place was nowhere near as well-stocked. There were no perishables in the refrigerator. The pantry was relatively barren. But at the moment, the kitchen didn't have gaping holes left by bears, and that was a huge plus.
He now saw that his friends had rearranged the room. One long wall featured a section for each of their personal things, as well as an area for group items. He spotted his backpack and rain gear easily and he felt his heart mush a little in his chest. He and Max might have been checking for rodents, but no one had left them to work alone.
There were a few remaining chairs that weren't useful for barricading anything. They had gathered pillows and blankets, making pallets for everyone. He counted nine—four already filled with sleeping friends. A fire roared in the fireplace, and the room was relatively barren except for what he was discovering mattered most. For a moment, his thoughts flicked back to the students remaining at the dorm. What had happened to them? But he pushed the thought forcefully aside.
He found an empty pallet near the fire. He could use the warmth. When he motioned to Joule, she only nodded. Cage couldn’t tell if she’d planned for him to sleep in this spot, or if he’d just usurped the place she’d staked out for herself. He was too tired to ask.
As he curled into the blanket, he realized that while they had barricaded everything else out, they had also barricaded themselves in. Though his brain had been rolling into the abyss of sleep a moment before, his thoughts popped him wide awake again.
Blinking hard, he tried to get tired. But a few moments later, he heard a voice that he hadn't expected to hear.
“It's midnight,” Ginnifer said, more clearly than he'd expected. She must have been feeling better.
“We should sleep,” he replied, finally feeling the pull of unconsciousness. “We're in for the night.”
“The toilets do flush, right?” Her eyes darted from one corner of the room to another, and she was alert and sharp, as though she hadn't just been practically carried up the hill. As though she hadn't been out cold for almost twenty-four hours. As though they hadn’t feared she would die from the round puncture holes with cleanly sliced X's over them.
As though Marcus hadn't died saving her.
She worried about the toilets flushing.
Cage felt his eyes narrow. Joule was right about this one.
Ginnifer began speaking again. “We still need the generator. But the good thing is, now we know where it is. So in the morning, I think we'll have to go out and get it.”
She said it with authority. Each word felt like sand under his eyelids. It was all Cage could do not to dive across the room and strangle her. And he wasn’t really certain if what stopped him was his own self-control or his complete exhaustion.
She was opening her mouth again, when the thump came at the door.
In the room, six of the heads popped up at the sound. Cage stilled. But it wasn’t a bear. The heavy sound came again, and it was definitely human.
56
The thumping at the door came again. It demanded an answer, though no one spoke.
Cage’s gaze darted from friend to friend, to the professor, to Ginnifer and Holly. He saw all eyes open wide and overly alert, except for Max. Only Max managed to remain asleep through the sound of someone almost trying to break through the door. This didn't surprise Cage.
The knocking came again. This time it was loud enough to even make Max stir. After the third hammering noise came, Cage decided for himself it sounded most like a fist on a door. He thought he heard the knob twisting, but he couldn't be sure. No one could see the door because they’d barricaded it so well.
Joule threw off her covers, clearly done waiting, and headed toward the door. Maybe because he was her brother—her twin—he could read it in the way she walked, but she was getting ready to negotiate. He felt his eyes squeeze shut. The thought of her slightly high-pitched, feminine voice being the only one intruders heard bothered him. So he, too, stood, only he bolted the few steps after her and grabbed her shoulders.
Being Joule, none of this shocked her. Cage was shaking his head at her, telling her No, don’t say anything as the pounding came again.
This time a deep, masculine voice demanded, “Who’s in there?”
Cage waved to Dr. Kimura, motioning him to the door. As the only actual adult in the group, maybe he could garner respect. After all, the man outside the door probably lived in the neighborhood.
“Can I help you?” Kimura called through all the pieces of wood and plastic and upholstery-covered chairs.
“Who are you? This is the Tamblyn house, and they're not home right now. I know you're not the Tamblyns.”
“Correct. My name is Dr. Daishin Kimura. I go by Dean. I'm a professor of marine biology at Stanford.”
Once again, the door rattled behind all the furniture they’d piled against it. For a moment, Kimura looked startled. Cage suddenly wondered if maybe Kimura wasn't quite fast enough on his feet to be their spokesman. But it was too late now. No point adding extra voices—and information—to the conversation.
The students had all crowded in close until they stood in a tight knot, listening at the door. Cage had the horrid thought of a shotgun blast coming through and injuring his friends.
Trying not to raise an alarm, he slowly motioned everyone back slightly.
“I'm here with several students,” Dr. Kimura added to his earlier words. “We've barricaded ourselves inside.”
“What on earth for?”
Kimura proceeded to explain that they had escaped from the flooding in Stanford, and that possibly the neighborhood would see more refugees from the school. He simply didn't know.
For a moment, Cage wondered: In a school that was supposedly as elite as Stanford was, were there any other people as smart as Joule? Had anyone else bought boats ahead of time? Or maybe they'd been smart enough to scrounge some up after the flooding had started.
But he hadn’t seen anyone else out on the water.
“There are bears roaming the neighborhood. We were in a different house—” Kimura took a half-second to suck in breath and yell again. “Three California Black Bears came through kitchen and ransacked the place. We hid upstairs.”
“Are you fucking serious?” the voice came back, startling Cage and apparently most of his friends.
“Yes,” Kimura replied calmly, maybe a better spokesman than Cage had given him credit for. “Absolutely. If you go look at the other house, you'll see where the bears came through the door on the back deck.”
“Which house?” At least this time, the man on the outside didn’t sound quite so angry. But Cage was getting concerned. There was wildlife out there, and some of it was dangerous, even deadly. Did the man not know?
