The Passage - By Justin Cronin Page 0,225

useful. Michael had done his best, but there really wasn’t much Jacob could understand. Whole days could be swallowed up by explaining the simplest tasks to him.

He came to a halt before Michael, dropping his hands to his knees and heaving for breath. Despite his size, his movements possessed a childlike disorderliness, the parts never quite seeming in sync. “Michael,” he gulped, “Michael—”

“Easy, Jacob. Slow down.”

The boy was flapping a hand before his face, as if to push more oxygen into his lungs. Michael couldn’t tell if he was upset or simply excited. “I want to see … Sara,” he gasped.

Michael told him she wasn’t there. “Did you try at the house?”

“She’s not there either!” Jacob lifted his face. His eyes were very wide. “I saw her, Michael.”

“I thought you said you couldn’t find her.”

“Not her. The other one. I was sleeping and I saw her!”

Jacob didn’t always make perfect sense, but Michael had never seen the boy like this. His face wore a look of complete panic.

“Did something happen to your dad, Jacob? Is he okay?”

A frown creased the boy’s damp face. “Oh. He died.”

“Gabe’s dead?”

Jacob’s tone was disturbingly matter-of-fact; he might have been telling Michael what the weather was. “He died and he won’t wake up anymore.”

“Flyers, Jacob. I’m sorry.”

That was when Michael saw Mar hurrying down the path. He felt a gush of relief.

“Jacob, where have you been?” The woman stopped before them. “How many times do I have to tell you? You can’t run off like that, you can’t.”

The boy backed away, his long arms flailing. “I have to find Sara!”

“Jacob!”

Her voice seemed to hit him like an arrow: he froze where he stood, though his face was still animated by a strange, unknowable dread. His mouth was open and he was breathing fast. Mar moved toward him cautiously, as if she were approaching some large, unpredictable animal.

“Jacob, look at me.”

“Mama—”

“Hush now. No more talk. Look at me.” She reached up to his face, placing a hand on each of his cheeks, focusing her eyes on his face.

“I saw her, Mama.”

“I know you did. But it was just a dream, Jacob, that’s all. Don’t you remember? We went back to the house and I put you to bed and you were sleeping.”

“I was?”

“Yes, honey, you were. It was nothing, just a dream.” Jacob was breathing more easily now, his body stilling beneath his mother’s touch. “I want you to go home now and wait for me there. No more looking for Sara. Can you do that for me?”

“But, Mama—”

“No buts, Jacob. Can you do as I ask?”

Reluctantly, Jacob nodded.

“That’s my good boy.” Mar stepped back, releasing him. “Straight home, now.”

The boy looked at Michael once, a quick, furtive glance, and jogged away.

Finally Mar turned to Michael. “It always works when he gets like this,” she said with a weary shrug. “It’s the only thing that does.”

“I heard about Gabe,” he managed. “I’m sorry.”

Mar’s eyes looked as if she had cried so much there were no tears left in her at all. “Thank you, Michael. I think Jacob wanted to see Sara because she was there, at the end. She was a good friend. To all of us.” Mar halted a moment, a look of pain skittering across her face. But she shook her head, as if to ward this thought away. “If you can get her a message, tell her we’re all thinking of her. I don’t think I had a chance to properly thank her. Will you do that?”

“I’m sure she’s around here someplace. Did you check the Infirmary?”

“Of course she’s in the Infirmary. That was the first place Jacob went.”

“I don’t understand. If Sara’s in the Infirmary, why didn’t he find her?”

Mar was looking at him strangely. “Because of the quarantine, of course.”

“Quarantine?”

Mar’s face fell. “Michael, where have you been?”

TWENTY-EIGHT

Alicia didn’t find him, after all; it was the other way around. Peter knew just where she’d be.

She was sitting in a wedge of shade outside the Colonel’s hut, her back braced against a stack of wood, knees pulled to her chest. At the sound of Peter’s approach, she looked up, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand.

“Oh, damn, damn,” she said.

He took a seat beside her on the ground. “It’s okay.”

Alicia sighed bitterly. “No it isn’t. You tell anyone you saw me like this I will blade you, Peter.”

They sat in silence for a while. The day was cloudy, cast with a pale and smoky light, carrying with it a strong, acrid