UNLIGHT FILTERED THROUGH THE trees and woke Robby. The sky that he could see through the trees appeared heavy with pink and purple clouds. Robby looked every direction and pulled his hood down to listen before he got up. The world was still and quiet. His stone wall traced its way through a stand of tall pines—too evenly-spaced and orderly to be a natural forest. Robby walked between rows of pines towards the sun, and saw the sky open up.
He relieved himself in the woods before crossing into the brown, patchy back yard of a two-story cape with a daylight basement.
The houses on the left and right both had swing sets in their back yards, but the house directly in front of Robby had none. Robby was glad of that—he didn’t relish the idea of running into a child’s corpse. The sliding-glass door was unlocked. Robby slid it open and closed it most of the way shut after he’d stepped into the finished basement. He found himself in a comfortable TV room and immediately smelled burned food. He climbed the stairs slowly, still listening for Lyle, even though he’d left him hours before on the other side of a long walk through the woods.
He found no sign of the homeowners on the main floor, and didn’t bother to venture up into the bedrooms. What he needed—the keys to their Hyundai—he found on a hook near the side door. In the driveway, he found the matching vehicle. Robby didn’t pause to learn any more about the inhabitants of the house. He had learned enough from the charred remains of dinner left on the stove. These people had vacated during preparation, and wouldn’t be coming back.
The car was a mess. Plastic shopping bags were stuffed with trash on the back seat on either side of a carseat. Diet soda bottles and cans littered the floors. Mardi Gras beads swung from the rearview mirror as Robby backed out onto the street. They had a GPS mounted on the dash. Robby powered it up and was pleasantly surprised to get efficient directions back to the highway. He went the opposite way.
Robby stayed on back roads, and picked his way north.
Up north, he’d come from an area where everyone had vanished into the sky. Down here, people had died with ruptured eyes. Given the choice, he preferred to move back to a place where he didn’t have to worry about stumbling upon eyeless corpses around every turn.
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
The farther north he went, the cloudier the sky became. It hung over him like a cold puffy quilt and Robby found himself hunching over the wheel to get closer to the weak heat coming from the vents. The GPS gave him few options aside from the highway. He had to resort to Route 1 most of the time, but preferred the smaller coastal roads. On the bigger roads he couldn’t shake the feeling that Lyle might somehow be watching him.
He only encountered a few cars, and they were all pulled off to the side or slumped down in ditches. Whatever had popped the eyes and stolen the life from the drivers had first caused them to pull over. Or maybe they lost their eyes and steered to the side in a panic. Robby tried not to consider the options.
As he approached Portland, Robby skirted to the west of the airport. The streets had a thin layer of snow and Robby saw a few tire tracks on the streets. Missing were the corpses. Where the snow got deeper, Robby found the edge of where people’s eyes had exploded and where they’d simply disappeared. Robby turned onto a neighborhood street and cut his own fresh tracks through the dusting of snow.
He surveyed houses from his dirty Hyundai for hours. He doubled back and crossed his own tracks several times, hoping to disguise his real trail. When Robby found an interesting house, he parked nowhere near it. Instead, he pulled into the driveway of a house down the street and made his way through backyards and a small stand of trees.
Along the marsh, Robby found a number of houses with solar power. Their wide southern exposure—afforded by being
He relieved himself in the woods before crossing into the brown, patchy back yard of a two-story cape with a daylight basement.
The houses on the left and right both had swing sets in their back yards, but the house directly in front of Robby had none. Robby was glad of that—he didn’t relish the idea of running into a child’s corpse. The sliding-glass door was unlocked. Robby slid it open and closed it most of the way shut after he’d stepped into the finished basement. He found himself in a comfortable TV room and immediately smelled burned food. He climbed the stairs slowly, still listening for Lyle, even though he’d left him hours before on the other side of a long walk through the woods.
He found no sign of the homeowners on the main floor, and didn’t bother to venture up into the bedrooms. What he needed—the keys to their Hyundai—he found on a hook near the side door. In the driveway, he found the matching vehicle. Robby didn’t pause to learn any more about the inhabitants of the house. He had learned enough from the charred remains of dinner left on the stove. These people had vacated during preparation, and wouldn’t be coming back.
The car was a mess. Plastic shopping bags were stuffed with trash on the back seat on either side of a carseat. Diet soda bottles and cans littered the floors. Mardi Gras beads swung from the rearview mirror as Robby backed out onto the street. They had a GPS mounted on the dash. Robby powered it up and was pleasantly surprised to get efficient directions back to the highway. He went the opposite way.
Robby stayed on back roads, and picked his way north.
Up north, he’d come from an area where everyone had vanished into the sky. Down here, people had died with ruptured eyes. Given the choice, he preferred to move back to a place where he didn’t have to worry about stumbling upon eyeless corpses around every turn.
✪ ✪ ✪ ✪ ✪
The farther north he went, the cloudier the sky became. It hung over him like a cold puffy quilt and Robby found himself hunching over the wheel to get closer to the weak heat coming from the vents. The GPS gave him few options aside from the highway. He had to resort to Route 1 most of the time, but preferred the smaller coastal roads. On the bigger roads he couldn’t shake the feeling that Lyle might somehow be watching him.
He only encountered a few cars, and they were all pulled off to the side or slumped down in ditches. Whatever had popped the eyes and stolen the life from the drivers had first caused them to pull over. Or maybe they lost their eyes and steered to the side in a panic. Robby tried not to consider the options.
As he approached Portland, Robby skirted to the west of the airport. The streets had a thin layer of snow and Robby saw a few tire tracks on the streets. Missing were the corpses. Where the snow got deeper, Robby found the edge of where people’s eyes had exploded and where they’d simply disappeared. Robby turned onto a neighborhood street and cut his own fresh tracks through the dusting of snow.
He surveyed houses from his dirty Hyundai for hours. He doubled back and crossed his own tracks several times, hoping to disguise his real trail. When Robby found an interesting house, he parked nowhere near it. Instead, he pulled into the driveway of a house down the street and made his way through backyards and a small stand of trees.
Along the marsh, Robby found a number of houses with solar power. Their wide southern exposure—afforded by being
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