“Yeah. But I could use a drink. You wouldn’t have anything, would you?”
“I think I do,” Quinn said, moving behind the desk to the small liquor cabinet. Inside he located a long, slender bottle that sloshed when he shook it. After stopping in the kitchen to retrieve two glasses, they settled into the chairs across from the sofa. Ty rested beneath the comforter, his head propped on one of the pillows. The fire’s glow played across his face, making his brown hair seem lighter. When Quinn glanced at Alice, the dried blood on her head looked like a black scar, marring her white skin.
“You should clean that cut on your forehead, make sure it doesn’t get infected,” Quinn said. “I could heat some bottled water over the fire.”
“Tomorrow. It’s not bleeding, so I’ll deal with it in the light,” Alice said, grasping the bottle he’d set on the table between them. “Belvedere, wow. Top shelf.” She poured her glass half full.
“Do you want me to try and find something to mix…” His voice trailed off as she took a long drink of the clear liquid.
She shook her head and her eyes slid shut as she swallowed. “Ahh.”
Quinn appraised the bottle for a moment before pouring only enough to cover the bottom of his glass. The vodka stung more than the whisky going down and brought tears to his eyes, but the warmth that bloomed in his stomach felt good.
“To answer your question, yeah, it was really bad where we came from,” Alice said in a hushed voice, sitting forward to rest her elbows on her knees. “I didn’t want to say anything in front of Ty.” She laughed again, the same callus way she had before. It wasn’t so much unkind as hollow. “When all this started happening, it was the first time I was ever thankful that he’s blind. But he heard enough without actually seeing it.”
“We watched some on the news when it started. It looked horrible.”
“It was worse—is worse. I don’t know if it’s still going on or not. Everyone was dead when we left town.”
Quinn paused with his drink partway to his mouth. “Everyone?”
“Everyone. Except for the stilts. There were a few of them wandering around, eating things.”
Alice shivered and took another long sip of vodka.
“How did they…turn? Was there anything on TV?”
Alice shook her head. “Nothing. By the time they started showing up, almost everyone was sick. The only thing I saw was the video that someone uploaded to Yahoo.”
“I saw it too,” Quinn said.
“Super creepy. They’re mutations of some kind. That’s all I know. The disease must’ve affected certain people somehow and did that to them.”
“Our cook, my friend, Graham, turned into one of them. I wouldn’t have believed it if I hadn’t seen it. He was still wearing the earring he always wore.”
“Oh yeah, you can tell sometimes who they were before. Once in a while there’s still a remnant of clothing on them, but most of them grew way too much to have anything on. Tattoos are still there, scars, birthmarks, some jewelry. The first one we saw was my neighbor, Mrs. Wilhelm. God, she was a pain in the ass while she was human. It was a day or so after everything went down and the media was going nuts. We live—lived—in a shitty apartment building on the north side of town and the bat was across the hall from us. She was a stinky old cat lady, but she had money. I don’t know why she retired in that apartment. I know she’d always been there and her husband died a few years before we moved in. Rumor was she got paid a huge life insurance sum after her old man kicked it and she lived off of that, but she really only spent money on those cats.”