Death's Awakening

Chapter Six: Noah

Noah stood in the kitchen and stared at the door to the basement.

He cracked open a can of soda and downed half of it without taking his eye off the door. What had his dad been doing down there this whole time?

He'd been in that stupid basement for twelve hours straight without a break. Noah hadn't even seen him come up to grab food or a shower or anything. Last night when Noah called to tell him about the man on the street, his dad had rushed home like a maniac. He'd pulled one of the paramedics aside and convinced him to let him take some samples from the sick man.

Noah had never seen his dad do something like that. It was weird. Paranoid.

His dad had put on a mask, then spent about five minutes in the ambulance with the sick man before finally coming out with a bag full of who-knows-what. He'd barely said two words to Noah. He'd just pointed toward the house and told him to stay put. That's when he disappeared into the basement.

Noah hadn't seen him since.

He downed the rest of his drink, then set it down on the counter.

He took two steps toward the basement door, then stopped. He ran a hand through his hair.

Crap. He wasn't allowed down there. How many times had his dad lectured him about it?

Any time he was working down there meant he needed peace and quiet and a sterile environment. Noah knew that.

But he hated not knowing what was going on. Was this virus really that dangerous?

His dad always got overly-excited about new strains and potentially deadly viruses, but there was also some level of caution, too. He was trained to stay calm even in the face of the worst kinds of disasters. The last thing the CDC needed was for one of their doctors to start freaking out and telling everyone the world was ending.

Speeding up to an ambulance and demanding tissue samples or whatever was definitely not in the CDC handbook of things that were okay to do.

So why would he do it?

Noah had been up half the night thinking about it. He'd been sitting here in the kitchen for hours just waiting for his dad to come out. It was driving him insane.

He needed a break from staring at that damn door wondering what on earth had his dad so spooked. He opened the kitchen trashcan and looked inside. Half-full. Good enough.

He lifted the bag and tied it off, then opened the garage door and stepped outside.

The afternoon sun was bright and warm. He stood there for a moment and let the heat sink into his skin. Maybe he'd take the car and drive out to the lake later when it cooled off some. He could use a good run. This whole thing had him freaked out.

He walked to the other side of the driveway, opened the lid to the large trash can and stuffed the bag inside, then wheeled the whole thing out to the curb. The trash didn't come until tomorrow, but it wouldn't hurt to get it out early.

He couldn't help but glance across the street. The spot where the man had collapsed looked the same as it did every other day, but the whole place felt different. Scary. It was one thing when his dad said there was a new virus he was researching. It was something else entirely when Noah saw that virus in full effect right here in his own front yard.

He had to assume that was what this was all about. Why else would his dad have gone so crazy?

In the driveway across the street, six suitcases of different sizes were piled up behind the Sorrows' SUV. Probably Zoe and her dad getting ready to fly out for her music tour. The kid really was talented, but he'd enjoyed talking to Parrish more than listening to her sister play the violin.

And she'd actually talked to him some last night. He'd come so close to asking her out. And he would have if it wasn't for the sick guy.

Noah kept one eye on the Sorrows house as he moved the rest of the trash cans to the curb. He wanted to see her. He'd just run off last night without even saying goodnight. She was probably just as freaked out as he was.

There was something so strangely intoxicating about her. She was so different from any girl he'd ever known. All the girls at school were the same. They talked about the same things. Wore the same kinds of clothes. And they always agreed with him. Half the time he didn't even think they were really listening to him.

But Parrish wasn't like that.

The door inside their garage opened and his heart jumped. He squinted against the sun, trying to act casual as he rearranged the cans.

It was just Mr. Sorrows, Parrish's dad. He set two more heavy bags down beside the others, then stared at them, counting on his fingers.

Noah turned away and headed back down his driveway. He spotted his basketball in the grass next to the pavement and scooped it up. He tossed it toward the hoop over the garage and it swished right through. The ball bounced once before he grabbed it up again and dribbled it against the white cement of the driveway.

Across the street, Mrs. Sorrows joined her husband. He couldn't hear exactly what they were saying, but it was obvious they were arguing over something. As usual. Man, those people were always fighting. He could hear them from here. Something about Zoe's violin. It was always something about Zoe. They seemed so proud of her, but at the same time, her success really seemed to stress them out all the time.

He tossed the ball through the hoop a couple more times, never missing. He concentrated on the sound of the ball pounding against the pavement. He dribbled twice moving farther from the goal before taking his shot. Even from here, though, the ball passed easily through the hoop on the first try.

The garage door across the street slammed so loud Noah couldn't help but look over. Mrs. Sorrows was gone. Her husband had a sour look plastered on his face. He kicked at the one of the suitcases and went to punch the side of the car, but stopped just short, his fist still balled up tight.

Mr. Sorrows shook his head and walked around the side of the house. He threw a quick glance back toward the garage, then stepped into the shadows under a large tree. He leaned over and grabbed something from between the bushes on the side of the house.

Noah squinted to see what the guy was doing. A couple sparks, then a flame. Then smoke. Mr. Sorrows stepped back into the light for just a second and Noah saw the cigarette in his hand and laughed. He couldn't blame him.

He jogged out a few extra steps, then bounced and turned, lobbing the ball toward the hoop with one hand. Twenty consecutive shots and not a single miss. Way better than normal. He was really on a roll here. Too bad no one was here to see it.

He glanced back toward the house across the street. Something in an upstairs window glinted in the sunlight and he looked up. Parrish stood in the window, staring down at him. Their eyes met across the distance and his already racing heart jumped.

He lifted a hand in a half-wave and smiled, but she didn't react at all. No wave. No smile. She just turned away, letting the white curtain fall back across the window.

He stood there for a beat longer than he should have, just staring up at the space she used to occupy.

What was it with that girl? He thought maybe after their talk last night she'd open up to him a little more. He thought maybe he'd finally pierced that hard outer shell she liked to keep around herself. What was it going to take to get closer to her?

Noah shook his head and tossed the basketball at the hoop one last time.

The ball rolled around the edge of the hoop, then fell in.