by Nancy Isaak
Jude shrugged, tormented. “Maybe…I just don’t know.”
* * * *
A few hours after they had reached the safehouse—Jude felt herself becoming nauseous, her forehead warming up. Worried that she might not have much time before she also got sick, Jude quickly drew out a map, with directions to Point Dume, for Mia and Laura—just in case.
It was Jude’s plan to start out immediately for the coast—leaving the girls, Jacob, and Rhys behind. Jude thought that if she took one of the horses, she could reach home in a couple of hours. Then, she would be able to bring back help—hopefully, before nightfall.
A good plan—except that Jude never made it; her last memory that morning would be of lifting a saddle onto the horse.
It was Laura who dragged an unconscious and shivering Jude back into the safehouse. With Mia’s help, Laura tucked Jude into a bed, gave her some of the same medication that they were giving Rhys and Jacob, and then moved with Mia into the kitchen to discuss their next step.
Even though Laura was the strongest, it was Mia who they decided should ride to Point Dume for help. Because she would only be on the horse for a few hours—maybe an afternoon at the most—Mia felt she could handle that. Taking care of three sick people by herself, however, would probably have been beyond her at that point.
“But Mia never made it here,” I said.
Jude shook her head. “She got as far as the outlet mall at Los Posas and came back when she saw Crazies. We’d already warned her about them, so she recognized the tattoos.”
“How many were there?”
“About fifteen…and some more coming down the hill along the 101 Freeway. Mia watched them for a while—actually followed them through the fields down towards Pacific Coast Highway. She said that they set themselves up in these houses along the way—a couple of guys to each house. They were all armed and obviously on the warpath.”
“Brandon was sending down guys to wait until they decided to attack.”
“Probably,” Jude agreed. “Whatever it was, there was no way that Mia could get by them. So, she came back to the safehouse. Every few days, she’d head out and try again, but it just got worse. Like there were more guys coming down all the time. And they had the coast covered—she just couldn’t get by—and it went on like that for days, and then weeks.”
“When did Mia find Topher?”
“That first time—when she came back from following the Crazies. Mia said that she took a wrong turn a few blocks from the safehouse. She found Topher’s body in front of a store—like at a little strip mall—so Mia thought maybe he was scavenging for something when he got caught.”
“And it was obvious that he’d been killed, not that he’d been sick?”
Jude nodded. “Crazies or whoever had used machetes on him.” She looked down, devastated—tears falling down her cheeks. “I should of kissed him.” Jude said, quietly—as if to herself. “All that kid wanted was some attention and he was, like so damn sweet.”
“You didn’t know what would happen,” I told Jude, touching her arm.
She pushed my hand away angrily. “But I really liked that kid, you know! I mean, dammit…Topher died without ever being kissed…it’s just so freaking unfair!”
* * * *
Mia and Laura had buried Topher beside Ian and Andrei.
It was a difficult task for the weakened girls, one that took them two days to accomplish. On the third day, Mia sat in the backyard and carved Topher his own cross, trying hard to copy Cherry’s work and only partially succeeding.
Jacob, Rhys, and Jude, meanwhile, remained somewhere between unconscious and near-catatonic. All three of them had to be fed and given liquids by hand; not to mention their bodies cleaned, fresh pads placed underneath them.
That Mia and Laura managed to keep the three of them alive during this time—that the girls hadn’t simply walked away from all the mess and hard work…
…extraordinary.
* * * *
Jude began to get better right around the time that the Crazies were advancing on the Point. From the bedroom she was in, Jude could see the smoke from the bonfire on top of Mugu Peak and immediately realized that the tribe was under attack. Struggling against nausea and fatigue, Jude had weakly fumbled with her clothing, trying to dress herself, so she could come to our aid. It was only Mia and Laura threatening to abandon Rhys and Jacob if she had left the house that ultimately returned Jude to her sickbed.
For the next few days, Jude had remained in the house—bitching and complaining—before Mia and Laura had finally had enough and agreed to try and make it to the Point. They loaded up Rhys and Jacob into the bike trailers the very next morning and started south.
It took much longer than they had expected to reach Malibu; the three or four hour trip wound up taking them just under eighteen hours. They worried constantly about coming into contact with the Crazies and—indeed—spent a good ten hours tucked inside of a gas station while six tattooed and mohawked-guys scavenged through a strip mall on the opposite side of the street—hooting and screeching.
When the girls finally reached Pacific Coast Highway, I was happy to hear that they were stopped by one of our sentry teams almost immediately. Of course, as soon as Jude identified herself, the girls were let through. They were stopped three more times, however, each time being allowed passage when the sentries saw Jude.
By the time, the three of them made Zuma Beach, the girls were all so exhausted by their journey that none of them had even noticed us riding up until we were stopped in front of them.
* * * *
“You need to get some sleep,” I told Jude.
She was sitting on a cot, staring down at a plastic bag in her hands. Jay had just checked her out and given her the okay to finally return to the girls’ house.
“Just trying to get up the energy to head over,” she said.
“Why don’t you just stay in the Medical Clinic tonight?” I suggested. “Or better, yet, come and stay with me at the mansion.”
Jude shook her head. “I’m gonna’ sleep in my own bed tonight if I have to crawl there. Been dreaming about it for so damn long. There’s no way I’m gonna’ stay anywhere else.”
Still, she didn’t move.
I sat down beside her and tapped the plastic bag in her hands. “What’s this?”
“Comic books. Jacob got them for Andrei and Ian. Looks like they didn’t even have a chance to read them before they…” She didn’t have the heart to continue. Instead, Jude placed the plastic bag in my lap. “You think you could give these to Wester and Ethan? I thought they might like to have them.”
“That’s good idea,” I said. “And I’ll bet that Andrei and Ian would think so, too.”
Jude’s eyes immediately began to fill with tears. Her hand swiped at them, angrily. “Dammit!”
I was struggling not to cry myself. To distract us both, I pointed to the two books Jude had tucked between the front of her shirt and her jacket. There was a princess on the front cover of one—pink and frilly.
“You getting all girly on me, Jude?” I teased.
She nodded. “Yeah, I even waxed my hoohaw this morning.”
“Are the books for Hannah and Lily?” I asked.
“Animals and princesses,” she acknowledged. “Jacob helped me pick them out.”
At his name, I looked over at Jacob’s bed; there was no movement, except for a slight rise and fall of the cover, each time he took a breath.
“Jacob looks so pale,” I said, softly. “And he’s lost so much weight.”
“Kid’s a fighter, Kaylee. Just like his brother.”
“And like you,” I added. “But it’s weird, don’t you think—how you got better so much faster than them.”
Jude shrugged. “I’m a girl.”
That made me smile. “Jay’s mom always told us—when she was working as a pediatrician and had to give out needles, that the girls usually took them with, like an ouch or a whine, but the boys�
�they’d start kicking and screaming. She’d have to call a couple of orderlies to come and hold them, the boys would be so scared.”
“Porter said that maybe I was sick with something different than Rhys and Jacob,” Jude admitted. “That’s why I woke up and they didn’t.”
“It’s possible—or maybe you’re just tougher. Either way we’re going to tease the crap out of those two when they do wake up,” I grinned. “And they will wake up!”
“Damn straight,” agreed Jude.
Across the room, meanwhile, Cammie and Florenza were talking to Mia and Laura. All four of the girls looked tired—Mia and Laura mechanically chewing away on the cookies that Sophia had brought them an hour earlier.
“Well, those girls certainly are tough,” I noted. “And I mean Mia and Laura—not Cammie and Florenza…although they’re tough, too.”
“Jacob, me, and Rhys wouldn’t be alive now if it wasn’t for Laura and Mia,” admitted Jude.
“They’re looking pretty exhausted. We should probably get them settled in for a good sleep, don’t you think?”
She nodded, yawning. “I figured they can live in your dad’s house with me and Hannah and Lily…and Sophia. I’m guessing that Cammie and Florenza will be moving out soon, if they haven’t already, so there will be lots of room.”
“If there’s any problems because—well, because of what they’ve been through—you might want to consider having them stay with Peyton for a bit.”
Jude yawned again. “You mean because of what those scums did to them?”
I nodded.
“Mia…Laura!” Jude lifted a hand lazily and motioned them over.
The two girls rose and crossed carefully—still holding onto each other’s hands. When they reached us, Mia placed the back of her hand across Jude’s brow. “Are you okay?” she asked, concerned. “You look hot.”
“I’m always hot.” Jude brushed her hand away. “So, stop babying me...I’m fine!”
Mia frowned at me. “Jude should be in bed.”
“I agree,” I told her. “All of you guys should. Which is why Jude’s just been told to go home. But we need to figure out your sleeping arrangements first.”
A guarded look came over Mia’s face; beside her, Laura looked scared. Jude waved a hand at them. “No worries…we’ve just got options. You need to pick one.”
The girls said nothing—just waited.
“Okay,” said Jude. “Option one, you come home with me. I live in Kaylee’s dad’s house and it’s huge. Plus, there are no guys there—except visitors, of course. Other than that, our house is girls only—and small animals.”
“We want to go with you,” said Laura immediately.
“Wait, you haven’t heard the other options. Option two, you can stay in the Medical Clinic.”
“We want to go with you,” added Mia.
“Option three, you can stay in the prince’s mansion. Remember—I showed you where Kaylee and Jacob live when we came through the gate. It’s enormous and there are lots of guards there, so you’ll be really safe.”
“Stay with you,” said Laura once again.
“Option four, there’s a girl named Peyton who’s kind of been through some bad stuff—not like what you guys went through—but kind of. You can also live with her in a house near here. She lives on a farm with this football blockhead named Frank—but he’s cool, so no worries there.”
“And she’s got kids at her house,” I added. “Three 8-year olds who were rescued from the Crazies.”
Jude looked at me, surprised. “We got more kids?”
“The White Shirts had them in a house. They went through some pretty gnarly stuff, but they’re doing a whole lot better now.”
“Freaking Crazies,” snarled Jude. “I should of knocked Brandon’s block off when I had the chance, instead of just smashing his nose. Bet none of this would’ve happened if I had.”
I pushed at Jude, irritated. “Stop it! If you really think any of this is your fault, then I’m going to be knocking your block off!” Then, I turned back to Mia and Laura. “So, what’s your choice—although I’m pretty certain I already know.”
And, of course, I was right.
They both pointed at Jude.
* * * *
When I finally left Jacob’s bedside, it was three hours later.
I was exhausted, wanting nothing more than a couple of hours of sleep before I returned to the Clinic. However, I knew that I had one important stop to make first.
They were both sitting at the edge of the cliff, their legs dangling over the rim, letting rocks tumble out of their hands to click-clack onto the rocks below. I squeezed in between them, placing one arm around each of their shoulders.
“Don’t you dare give up on her,” I told Shawnee and Wester, giving them both a hug. “Because there is no one in this world who knows how to survive like your sister!”
With a sob, Wester burst into tears—Shawnee, meanwhile, stared straight forward, her lips tight and angry.
I knew we were all thinking the same thing.
Where are you Cherry?
Please come home!
* * * *
Over the next few days, my schedule fell into a basic routine—breakfast at Jacob’s bedside—Council business—lunch at the Medical Clinic—more Council business—back to Jacob’s bedside at supper—a late evening shower and a change of clothes at the mansion—and, finally, back to the Medical Clinic to sleep in the cot beside Jacob’s.
Or—to be completely honest—to spend the night mostly awake, watching Jacob toss and turn—whispering to him constantly to…wake up, wake up, wake up!
There were others who came and went besides me—each spending time with Jacob and Rhys in their own way.
Kieran would sit between his brothers’ cots, poking them in their arms and chests—telling them to get their asses out of bed, until either Cammie or Jay would become irritated and tell him to stop. Florenza would usually spell me while I went to get my meals. When I returned, she was always in some deep one-sided conversation with one or the other brother—speaking animatedly in Spanish, her hands waving about to punctuate whatever she was saying.
At least once a day, Lily and Hannah would visit the Clinic. They would often bring me small treats that Sophia had baked—first waving them under Jacob and Rhys’ noses in the hopes that the yummy smells would entice them to wake up. Other times they would bring their new books and read out loud—telling Jacob and Rhys stories about naughty animals and adventurous princesses.
And always—just as they were leaving—Hannah and Lily would both lean down and rub their cheeks alongside Jacob’s. The sound and rasp of his sparse beard was endlessly fascinating to them. They would always leave the clinic afterwards, laughing and giggling because of it—which, to be honest, was the only reason that I hadn’t shaved Jacob’s beard off, yet.
He might have looked shaggily handsome with his five o’clock shadow, but as I had learned from past kissing-experience—major beard burn.
* * * *
Three nights after Jacob had returned, I woke up to the sound of a soft snuffling. My head immediately turned toward Jacob—no movement. Then, I pushed up to look over Jacob’s cot toward Rhys’.
No movement there either.
As the snuffling continued, I got quietly out of bed and walked down the aisle—checking the two other guys currently in the Clinic. Both were sound asleep, one making little pift-sounds that I assumed were his version of snoring.
The snuffling continued, coming from the far end of the Clinic—the office.
Quickly returning to my own cot, I grabbed the one cookie I had left from the Hannah/Lily delivery earlier in the evening, gave Jacob a kiss on his forehead, checked that Rhys was breathing steadily—then, headed into the office at the end of the room.
“Time for your medicine,” I told Jay, sitting down beside her.
She was on a stool, peering into a small microscope—and crying—little sobs of frustratio
n. There were two hurricane lanterns, one on each side of her—their light shining down on the glass slide she had been studying.
I placed the cookie in front of her. “Sorry…I didn’t have any Kit Kat’s.”
Jay reached out, grabbed the cookie, and took a bite. Then, still snuffling, pressed her eyes back against the eyepieces of the microscope. “I just don’t get it!”
“What don’t you get?”
She leaned back from the microscope and took another bite of the cookie, wiping the tears from her cheeks at the same time. “I guess I thought that if we had a microscope and could check the blood, it would make everything easier. Like all Porter and I would have to do is look at the blood cells and we’d know what was wrong.”
“But it’s not working like you wanted?”
Jay shook her head. “And Connor got us everything we asked for! Like this is a great microscope and we got a chart of diseases and even some reference books. So, why can’t we figure it out? I mean, it doesn’t make sense—what Jacob and Rhys have…it just doesn’t!”
“Well, maybe that’s it right there.”
“Pardon?”
“I mean, seriously, Jay—look at where we are, what we’re doing now. Our whole world is so different from where we came from. Isn’t it possible that you’re looking at a new world sickness with old world eyes?”
Her mouth dropped open; she looked utterly shocked.
“Ohmigod! Like that makes perfect sense!” Jay shoved the last piece of cookie into her mouth and returned to the microscope. “If it’s something new, then maybe there’s a reason why it affects guys so much more than girls—why they stay asleep for so long.” She looked back up at me. “I wonder if it could have something to do with the way girls and boys connect with the timeline. Like what if it’s not even clinical—what if it’s spatial?”
“You know that you’ve lost me now, right?”
She gave me that look she used to give me when a math problem was completely obvious to her, while all I saw was confusion. “Time and space, Kaylee—Porter and I have been talking about it. Like maybe that’s why we’re here and older people aren’t. If our timelines are curving at different rates, then maybe Jacob and Rhys really aren’t sick as long as we think they are—maybe their timelines are operating on a different ratio than the girls’ lines are.”
