Read Online Krisis (After the Cure Book 3) by Deirdre Gould - Free Book Online
Authors: Deirdre Gould
Ads: Link
too, but she didn’t really know why. Her mind, usually so busy and rapid, was like a cold, empty room. It had all stopped. “Okay,” she said at last, “I’ll go home and tell Bill. I’ll go see him upstairs.”
Juliana shook her head but didn’t try to stop her. Ruth picked up her kit and walked back down the long gray hallway toward the entrance. She took off her mask and crumpled it into a ball in her hand. The city was a lavender shadow as she walked home. The thaw had finally started and Ruth fell through the dissolving crust into deep snow several times. It was slow going and she was soaked and freezing before she got halfway. Her brain kept trying to jumpstart, like she was being shaken partly awake. Today was the day, she’d think, but then the thought would shut off. The day for what? It was like poking a bruise. She tried not to ask too hard or too often.
She passed a corner market that she didn’t remember scavenging before and decided to go inside. It was an Asian grocery. Ruth wandered around in the dark aisles looking for Charlie’s favorite brand of peanut butter before realizing the shelves were almost completely empty except for a few marinade bottles and a some packets of freeze dried seaweed snacks. Even the tea was scattered and spoiled. She absentmindedly grabbed a box of rice candy that the mice and scavengers hadn’t gotten to, some subconscious part of her knowing that it didn’t matter anyway.
She stopped at the end of her street. The house was dark. Bill must have let the generator run out of gas, she thought. I hope he’s started a fire in the fireplace. Charlie will get cold. Her brain took a sideslip again. I can’t remember if it’s a school night. With all this snow they’ll have to cancel. Maybe Charlie will play cards with me and Bill in front of the fireplace until the power comes back on. She shook herself and looked around, realizing the thought was wrong, but not why it was wrong. She shrugged and trudged up to the house.
She went inside to get the last can of gas and powered up the generator. She frowned as she noticed the footprints on the little shed above it, forgetting they were hers from the day before. I have to tell Charlie not to play on the shed. He could get hurt if it collapsed. The generator roared on; out of habit, she glanced up and down the street, but nothing came. She went into the house and began shucking her wet clothes. The fireplace was dark and the house was as cold as the street had been.
“Bill?” she called. Oh, that’s right, they’re upstairs, she thought and put a hand on the banister. Something inside fought with her though, not wanting her to go up. Not wanting her to see what she already knew. She tried to remember why she’d rushed home. She had something to tell Bill. Maybe seeing him would make her remember. She started up the stairs to the bedrooms. She opened the door to her own first. Bill wasn’t in there. She got dressed in dry clothing and then headed down the hallway to Charlie’s room. She tripped over the notebook Juliana had mentioned and picked it up. Taped to the paper was a thin plastic syringe, it’s cap on tight and a tiny silver bubble floating in the center. Below it were just a few lines in Bill’s handwriting.
Ruth-
It had to be today. I’m sorry. We couldn’t wait any longer. We’ll see you soon.
She placed the notebook carefully on the accent table nearby. The syringe flashed in the yellow electric light. She opened the door to Charlie’s room.
They were slumped on the floor, Charlie lying with his head on Bill’s chest, just the way he had when he was small. The room was terribly silent. Ruth watched Charlie’s stomach for a few long minutes willing it to bubble out with an inhale. She used to stand by his crib and watch the same way. She’d been so scared that he would just— just stop. Every night. She knew it was a compulsion, but she’d checked every night, for years. Always the same few
Juliana shook her head but didn’t try to stop her. Ruth picked up her kit and walked back down the long gray hallway toward the entrance. She took off her mask and crumpled it into a ball in her hand. The city was a lavender shadow as she walked home. The thaw had finally started and Ruth fell through the dissolving crust into deep snow several times. It was slow going and she was soaked and freezing before she got halfway. Her brain kept trying to jumpstart, like she was being shaken partly awake. Today was the day, she’d think, but then the thought would shut off. The day for what? It was like poking a bruise. She tried not to ask too hard or too often.
She passed a corner market that she didn’t remember scavenging before and decided to go inside. It was an Asian grocery. Ruth wandered around in the dark aisles looking for Charlie’s favorite brand of peanut butter before realizing the shelves were almost completely empty except for a few marinade bottles and a some packets of freeze dried seaweed snacks. Even the tea was scattered and spoiled. She absentmindedly grabbed a box of rice candy that the mice and scavengers hadn’t gotten to, some subconscious part of her knowing that it didn’t matter anyway.
She stopped at the end of her street. The house was dark. Bill must have let the generator run out of gas, she thought. I hope he’s started a fire in the fireplace. Charlie will get cold. Her brain took a sideslip again. I can’t remember if it’s a school night. With all this snow they’ll have to cancel. Maybe Charlie will play cards with me and Bill in front of the fireplace until the power comes back on. She shook herself and looked around, realizing the thought was wrong, but not why it was wrong. She shrugged and trudged up to the house.
She went inside to get the last can of gas and powered up the generator. She frowned as she noticed the footprints on the little shed above it, forgetting they were hers from the day before. I have to tell Charlie not to play on the shed. He could get hurt if it collapsed. The generator roared on; out of habit, she glanced up and down the street, but nothing came. She went into the house and began shucking her wet clothes. The fireplace was dark and the house was as cold as the street had been.
“Bill?” she called. Oh, that’s right, they’re upstairs, she thought and put a hand on the banister. Something inside fought with her though, not wanting her to go up. Not wanting her to see what she already knew. She tried to remember why she’d rushed home. She had something to tell Bill. Maybe seeing him would make her remember. She started up the stairs to the bedrooms. She opened the door to her own first. Bill wasn’t in there. She got dressed in dry clothing and then headed down the hallway to Charlie’s room. She tripped over the notebook Juliana had mentioned and picked it up. Taped to the paper was a thin plastic syringe, it’s cap on tight and a tiny silver bubble floating in the center. Below it were just a few lines in Bill’s handwriting.
Ruth-
It had to be today. I’m sorry. We couldn’t wait any longer. We’ll see you soon.
She placed the notebook carefully on the accent table nearby. The syringe flashed in the yellow electric light. She opened the door to Charlie’s room.
They were slumped on the floor, Charlie lying with his head on Bill’s chest, just the way he had when he was small. The room was terribly silent. Ruth watched Charlie’s stomach for a few long minutes willing it to bubble out with an inhale. She used to stand by his crib and watch the same way. She’d been so scared that he would just— just stop. Every night. She knew it was a compulsion, but she’d checked every night, for years. Always the same few
Similar Books
