Read Online The Apocalypse Reader by Justin Taylor (Editor) - Free Book Online Page B

suddenly, to concentrate on anything else. By the time dawn flickered, he felt nearly drowned. He longed for the moment when the light through the window finally overpowered the light from the boy's nightstand, but when it came, he couldn't help feeling that something was being taken from him as well. Those hours he shared with Alan were his-those interminable vigils during which he could truly believe that he was keeping the boy from something.
    Now the boy was reading on his own-material he was never meant to read. Now, in this part of life, Alan was doing all the talking. What had happened? How had the boy taken Burtson down like this? He couldn't remember when Alan lost his terror of night. It must have been slow, gradual, imperceptible as evolution itself. But suddenly the boy was out there, acting on his own recognizance. Burtson had expected rebellion, sure. But this betrayal-he could very well have handed the company over to Alan at some point. All the kid had to do was hang in there. Now he was blowing the secret to the world's most successful branded snack cake?
    Toshikazu set up a tent on the bank of the swamp, next to a hideous decaying trunk. The tent was low to the ground, so you had to get on all fours to enter. It was barely big enough for the two of them.
    "This is how they do it these days?" Burtson said, running his finger along the tent fabric, which was gauzy and light, right up against his face.
    "Keeps in the heat. Keeps a low profile."
    "Last time I camped, the tents were canvas."
    Toshikazu turned over.
    "You have anyone?"
    Toshikazu opened one opalescent eye. "Once."
    "Really? A wife?"
    "Yes."
    "Tell me about it." Burtson turned, propped himself up on an elbow. His head made a zipping sound against the tent fabric.
    "It's not something you want to hear."
    "Sure I do."
    "No."
    "Come on-we're out here-might as well burn off the night."
    "You asked me, and you are only American," Toshikazu said, breathing lightly, "So I will tell you what happened. It's an interesting story. My wife and I moved to America shortly after we married. We didn't know much about the country. We just flew to America. It was something we both felt we needed. We didn't have a plan-we just rented a car at the airport and started driving. We drove until it started to snow, and when it snowed so hard we couldn't see, we turned off the highway into the parking lot of a family-style restaurant. The restaurant was in a shopping mall, which was surrounded by deep, man-made moats. It was difficult to navigate through the parking lot of this mall because of all of the lakes and moats, the man-made waterways, what have you. The whole parking lot was blanketed in snow. We drove very slowly, hoping to navigate by feel. I thought about our old house, how I had rigged up all of the lights inside to turn on automatically whenever we were away, to give the impression that we were still home. I thought about those lights, coming on at dusk in the empty house. It occurred to me then, and never before, who was I creating this display for? Who were we trying to fool? I thought too hard about this, because I drove us into one of the man-made lakes. There was a horrible grating noise as the car plowed through the ice ringing the lake's perimeter. The car floated out into the middle of the lake, sinking slowly as it did. I managed to get out of the car through the driver's-side window. I climbed on top of the car. It was so quiet out, I could hear only the snow falling on the parking lot. It was loud, like the cheer of a thousand fans at a soccer match. But there was no other sound. The city was choked off."
    "Your wife-"
    "She was caught inside. I was on top."
    "But couldn't you-I mean could you not help her?" Burtson conjured the words as a scold, but they emerged more plealike.
    Toshikazu blinked twice. It was the first time Burtson had seen him do this. "I don't know. I felt like only one of us was going to make it. I might have let her die