Fate Page 3

  “Indeed it has.” Mr. Rothstein peered at the darkening sky. “Hmm … fascinating. And yet the feeding below hasn’t subsided. If anything, more of them have gathered.”

  He sounded like a naturalist talking about a family of wild hyenas lying down for a pleasant evening meal.

  Uncomfortable by the image, Mike decided to steer their conversation back to Deen & Blatt Pharmaceuticals. But before he could do that, Mr. Rothstein spoke again.

  “A nocturnal trait?” he muttered to himself, rubbing his chin. “To help them hunt better at night?”

  Chills ran down Mike’s back at the very thought. Those things had already catapulted to the top of the food chain in less than twenty-four hours; he couldn’t imagine anything that could surpass their predatory drive. That there was yet more to come was inconceivable.

  Returning to the rickety table holding their leftover sandwiches, Mr. Rothstein gave his young acquaintance an apologetic smile. “I seemed to have drifted off in thought. Forgive me, Mike. What were we discussing earlier?”

  “Deen & Blatt Pharmaceuticals,” Mike replied, watching as Mr. Rothstein sat down with a soft groan.

  “Ah, yes. We were discussing our current predicament, weren’t we?”

  “You said the situation was starting to feel odd to you.”

  Mr. Rothstein glanced down at his weathered hands. “I did, yes. The truth is, Mike, I haven’t been completely forthcoming with you. Or rather, I suppose I wanted to protect myself just in case you decided to throw me out of your apartment.” He faltered, opening and closing his mouth like a dying fish, then sighed deeply. “Seconds before I left my apartment to go buy some bread, I drank a glass of tap water. Teaching students works up quite a thirst, you see.”

  Mike resisted the urge to leap out of his chair. “But the water’s contaminated!”

  “Well …” Mr. Rothstein trailed off, looking somewhat uncomfortable, then added, “that brings me to my next point. As you can clearly see, I am not infected.” He slouched forward, pressing a fist against his chin. “For a while, I wondered if I was just incredibly lucky. Then I began to question the theory regarding our water supply and how it was infecting the general public. A part of me remained skeptical … that is, until I met you by chance.”

  “I’m not following,” Mike said, discomfited by the elderly man’s inquisitive stare.

  “Don’t you? Think about it. We are both acquainted with Deen & Blatt Pharmaceuticals. My daughter works there and recently gave me what she called a ‘vitamin shot.’ You applied for a series of clinical trials and received a ‘vitamin shot’ at the end, either from my daughter or one of her colleagues. Thus far, I remain unaffected despite having drunk an entire glass of tainted water.”

  Mike shook his head. “And that’s where the similarities end. Mr. Rothstein, this is all just circumstantial evidence –”

  “Which brings me to my last point.” Mr. Rothstein squared his bony shoulders, his gaze unwavering. When Mike saw that, his heart dropped to his stomach and he wondered where the meek gentleman he’d met at the building’s entrance had disappeared to. He didn’t want to hear the rest of what Mr. Rothstein was about to say.

  After a tense, prolonged silence, the elderly man lowered his eyes. “Mike, please go get a glass and fill it with potable water. Then drink all of it.”

  Chapter 4

  “No.”

  “Please, Mike.”

  “I said no!” Mike abruptly rose from his chair, ready to grab Mr. Rothstein by the lapels and shake him. “You have some nerve asking me that, especially after I saved your life. I even provided food and a safe place away from those things outside. And this is the thanks I get?”

  “Nothing will happen to you. I’m ninety-five percent sure of it.”

  “What happened to the remaining five percent?” Mike howled in indignation.

  Mr. Rothstein touched Mike’s arm with an awkward gesture. “Please calm down, my friend. I’m simply saying there’s no such thing as an absolute guarantee, not in this world we live in. But I’m convinced that your results will be similar to mine; or rather, it could be even better.” He glanced at the wall mirror hanging beside the front door. “Go, take a look at your face.”

  “What for?”

  “Look at your face,” Mr. Rothstein repeated, “and see if you notice anything different.”

  It had gotten semi-dark inside the cramped studio. Grumbling under his breath, Mike went to turn on the lights, then thought better of it. Opting for a candle instead, he yanked the curtains shut, lit the candle with a match, then padded over to the mirror, bringing the waxy stub closer to his face.

  At first, he saw nothing out of the ordinary. He was the same Mike Weber – brown eyes with lashes that were a shade too long; shaggy, light-brown hair that sported a perpetual, I-just-woke-up look; and clear skin that made cougars want to bed him, for reasons unknown to him –

  Wait. Mike leaned in, tilting his head at a slight angle. “It’s gone,” he said, shocked.

  Mr. Rothstein didn’t reply, but simply stared.

  “It’s gone!” Mike whirled around, his eyes wild. “What the hell happened to the deep scratch on my cheek?”

  “It seems the so-called vitamin shot you received at Deen & Blatt Pharmaceuticals was, in fact, some type of vaccine. I suspected as much when the water didn’t infect me. However, there appears to be an added component I hadn’t imagined possible – rapid healing.”

  “Why would your daughter experiment on us like that?”

  Mr. Rothstein’s bushy brows rose in surprise. “Experiment? I’d actually thought of it as protection. Of course, this then raises many questions. Had my daughter known beforehand that the water supply would be contaminated? Does she know the group responsible for this epidemic? Or was it some kind of unethical human testing from our own government? How many others received the vaccine? Has this vaccine gone through human trials, or did my daughter – out of desperation – use it because an untried vaccine is still better than nothing? And why does a super vaccine like this even exist in the first place? So many questions … so many to ask …”

  Mike lowered the candle and returned to the table. “Well, I guess the risk paid off, since we haven’t started bleeding from our eyes or anything.”

  The two acquaintances fell into silence as they sat in their seats, staring at one another. With each passing second, the elderly man’s previous request weighed heavier on Mike, to the point where his left eye began twitching uncontrollably.

  “Damn it,” he finally burst out, rising to grab an empty glass from the kitchen sink. He pushed the glass under the faucet, filled it with cold water, and then held it above his head as if to raise a toast. “In the five percent chance that I end up as a ravenous cannibal, you’ll be my first victim. That okay with you?”

  Mr. Rothstein nodded. “I resigned myself to that outcome when I suggested you should drink the water.”

  “Good to know. Well then, Sláinte.” And squeezing his eyes shut, Mike tossed the cool water down his throat before he could have a change of heart and kick the retired pianist out the door.

  * * *

  A sharp jolt from the truck startled Casey awake. Grunting softly, she wiped at her mouth, then shot Cain a sheepish glance.

  “Sorry for falling asleep,” she said, stifling a yawn. “Want me to drive for a bit?”

  “That’s okay.” He jerked a thumb behind his shoulder. “There’s canned coffee in the black duffel bag. Get me one, will you?”

  “Sure.” She leaned over, grabbed two cans of coffee and two tightly wrapped lobster rolls before plonking back in her seat. “Look, Cain. Mom made lobster rolls. Remember you said you wanted to eat them just before we left for our summer camp jobs?” Heartache and nostalgia rolled together to form a lump in her chest, and she quickly unwrapped her roll and took a massive bite from it to hide her pained expression.

  On the other hand, Cain seemed distracted, his attention already elsewhere. Cursing
under his breath, he abruptly stepped on the brake pedal, causing Casey and her lobster roll to bounce off the glove compartment.

  “Ow! That hurt. What are you –”

  “Look over there.”

  Before she could gather the strength to turn around, the sounds reached her ears first. It was like a thrumming roar intermingled with an occasional blare that rose above the din.

  “Sounds similar to drunk concert goers leaving a music festival,” she said, wincing as she bent to pick up the remnants of her lobster roll. “All that noise can’t be good, though.”

  “No, it isn’t. But that’s the least of our problems now.”

  “You don’t say,” Casey whispered, staring at the jam-packed vehicles once she settled back in the passenger seat. Drivers were leaning out of their windows, honking loudly and yelling into the air, their blinding headlights giving their features a corpse-like appearance.

  “Guess they had the same idea we did – cross the border and get the hell out of Dodge.” Cain angrily slammed his fist on the steering wheel. “At this rate, we’ll never make it there by midnight.”

  Unsure of their next move, the twins could do nothing but remain seated in the truck.

  “There has to be another road, even if it takes longer,” Casey said, breaking the silence. “I’ll drive this time, so why don’t we –” A shadowy figure moved across her side view mirror, and before she could stop to think about what it was, she grabbed Cain’s shirt and yanked him down with her.

  “What –” he whispered, but Casey slammed her hand over his mouth, grateful that they had driven without the headlights on. Truth be told, she was quite surprised with herself. How had she detected that split-second movement in the dark?

  A soft, slithery sound whooshed past the truck, running toward the packed vehicles just up ahead. The bright lights, car horns, and desperate people on the verge of killing each other were probably an intoxicating cocktail to the infected. Casey burrowed even lower, pulling her brother down as she recalled how damn quiet those things had become once darkness fell. She pressed her trembling lips together when another quiet whoosh, then a third one, ran past them.

  Agonizing seconds ticked by … and then the first pained scream splintered the night air.

  Cain shuddered in his sister’s arms as pandemonium struck and terrified screams rose like a tidal wave rushing through the car lanes. There was a loud whump! in the distance, then car alarms going off left and right, drowning out the anguished cries of those being attacked. For a moment, Casey wondered what they should do. Drive away? But where would they go?

  Peeking over the glove compartment, she saw flames and smoke in the far distance, billowing into the star-strewn sky. What had happened over there? A multi-car collision? Had one of those things already reached the front of the jam-packed line, resulting in frightened drivers ramming their vehicles into each other?

  “Kay,” Cain yelled over the noise, shaking her shoulder. “We have to go. We can’t stay here like this.”

  “Yeah, I know!”

  But where were they supposed to go, now that they couldn’t cross the border?

  Cain settled into his seat and made a quick U-turn, his movements clumsy on the gear shift. “We have to find shelter, a place where we can calm down and think straight. Got any ideas?”

  “Ashley’s lake house,” she blurted out, startling even herself. “It’s about thirty minutes from where we are right now.” Ashley was Casey’s best friend … and Cain’s ex-girlfriend.

  As expected, he didn’t care much for the idea. Well, no surprise there. They’d had a volatile relationship – a lot of screaming sessions, face slapping (poor Cain), and plenty of making out to tame his ruffled feathers. In the end, tired of all the melodrama, he had ended their relationship after driving her home on a Saturday night. They hadn’t spoken a word to each other since.

  “You know she spends every summer at her maternal grandparents’ lake house,” Casey added with a nervous chuckle. “Just last week, she called to brag about how you and I had to be camp counselors while she was living it up at the lake house with a bunch of sorority and frat types.”

  Cain’s mouth thinned in disapproval, but he didn’t say anything.

  “I know the last thing you want to do is see her, but we have no choice.” Casey’s voice grew stern. “It’s either live or get eaten, so stop dawdling and floor that damn gas pedal!”

  Throwing her a dirty look, Cain swerved hard to the left, knocking her against the door. Maybe as a form of retaliation?

  Even if that were true, Casey didn’t mind; in fact, she empathized wholeheartedly. They had failed to cross the border; they’d almost been detected and cannibalized by those infected beings; and now, they were going to Ashley’s lake house, where a swift kick to the groin area would probably be Ashley’s way of saying howdy to her ex-boyfriend.

  No wonder his nerves were frazzled.

  Without a word of admonishment, she calmly buckled her seat belt on and watched the side view mirror for any sign of suspicious movement. It would spell disaster if one of those things ended up pursuing them all the way to the lake house.

  * * *

  Mike lay spread-eagled on his creaky mattress, staring at the ceiling. A few paces to his right, Mr. Rothstein was curled up on the lumpy leather couch, his vibrating snores growing louder as the night deepened. After an agonizing minute, Mike placed his palm on his forehead, feeling panicked all of a sudden. His skin felt like it was burning up.

  “I’m infected,” he said aloud. “This is no joke, I’m truly –”

  “You’re a hypochondriac,” Mr. Rothstein muttered, turning to the other side to face him. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

  Mike lifted his head to shoot him an accusatory glare. “I thought you were sleeping?”

  “I was, but I tend to be a very light sleeper.”

  “And how does a light sleeper snore that much?”

  “Sinus problems,” Mr. Rothstein said brightly.

  Mike flopped back onto his pillow, groaning. “I’m not kidding, I feel like I’m burning up. If it’s not the infection spreading through me, then what the hell is it?”

  “Well, let’s think logically, shall we? It’s summer, but the windows are shut tight. You have no fan to cool the sweat off our bodies. On top of that, for reasons unfathomable to me, you chose to burrow under a blanket despite the sweltering heat.” Mr. Rothstein clucked his tongue. “I’d say if you didn’t burn up under those conditions, you might well be a vampire. Or a cadaver.”

  “Hmm.” Mike kicked the blanket off and rolled over to face the window. Under normal circumstances, he’d never be this childish or spineless. In fact, he’d always prided himself on being more mature and composed than his peers. People always believe that, in times of crisis, they’ll rise to the occasion and become heroes. That, despite their fear, they will selflessly put others above their own needs, even at the risk of their life. But time and time again, Mike had witnessed quite the opposite – a teacher who’d abandoned his elementary-school students in the midst of an earthquake; a braggart who’d pushed others out of the way at the first sight of an active shooter … and the list went on.

  Disaster. National crisis. At moments like these, people found out who they really were deep, deep down. And many times, they probably didn’t like what they saw.

  Mike didn’t like himself very much right now, and his whiny attitude was an absolute turn-off.

  “Having an existential crisis, are you?”

  “What?” Mike bolted up, turning in Mr. Rothstein’s direction. The elderly gentleman had been watching him carefully.

  “You look like you want to shed your skin off, if you could. I know self-loathing when I see it.” A kind smile settled over Mr. Rothstein’s craggy face. “Besides the obvious, I don’t know what else is troubling you. But let me say this – if you hadn’t stopped to help me at the entrance of the building, I would be dead now. If you hadn’t carried me
up all those stairs, I would be inside the stomachs of those ravenous beasts. I’m only here … because of you.” He gave Mike a small nod of gratitude. “So thank you, Mike. You’re a good man, which is a rare commodity these days.”

  Speechless, Mike let out an incoherent mumble and lay down again. Well, that had been unexpected. Mr. Rothstein’s heartfelt words had embarrassed him, and yet … they had also been a panacea to soothe some of his troublesome thoughts.

  He didn’t say it, but he was grateful.

  So for the first time since he’d drunk that glass of water, he felt composed enough to accept whatever fate awaited him. And in the end, he decided to put his trust in Mr. Rothstein.

  Chapter 5

  Ashley’s house was pitch-black inside, the moonlight reflecting off the gentle, rippling waves of the lake. So innocent looking, and yet Casey knew the lake was a veritable smorgasbord of parasitic nightmares. After all, she’d witnessed how it had infected the campers on the far end of the lake just this morning.

  “It’s too quiet,” Cain muttered, parking the truck next to a mulberry tree. “Strange. And here I thought she’d have a harem of drunk frat boys at her disposal.”

  “Not funny, Cain,” Casey growled. The place was suspiciously vacant, and she couldn’t help but worry about Ashley. If only she’d had the presence of mind to come sooner …

  The twins walked up to the front door, peering into the floor-to-ceiling glass windows. Just what was going on? Had Ashley changed her mind and gone back home? Or had the lake infected her, too?

  “Hey, check that out.” He pointed at the wind chimes, which were flecked with red paint. Or rather, what looked to be spattered blood. His voice was casual, but Casey knew her brother was starting to get worried as well.

  “Her jeep’s gone. That has to mean she was okay enough to drive, right?”