He sounded like a freaking clinger, he realized. John muttered something from inside the barn. Carl didn't quite hear what he'd said but he knew the gist of it had been somewhere along the lines of doing the impossible. Riley was already pulling the medical supplies from the front seat of the truck when he turned around to face them. Xander took them from her and placed them on the hood of the truck.
"If a person gets treated for rabies within the first twenty-four hours they can be saved," Riley mumbled as she tore the top off the pack of bandages with her teeth. "It's only been a little over twelve hours since John was bit. If we can get him back in time…"
He heard the optimism in her words as her voice trailed off. "But you don't think it's rabies," he said.
"No, I don't. The medicine given to Xander wouldn't have been enough to stop rabies. But I do still believe this is some form of meningoencephalitis or encephalitis, even after what we saw last night. I don't think this virus was created out of thin air. I think it's something that's been dormant inside the earth all of these years and was set free during the quakes, or from the melting ice caps."
"What makes you think that?" Xander asked.
"I think you would be dead if it was something entirely new," she said bluntly. "If this was something conjured out of thin air we wouldn't have anything to combat it with, but we know that we do. You're proof of that. Victor is proof of that. This virus is something we've never experienced, but we've experienced its crazy cousins enough over the years that medicines were made to treat them. What was unleashed upon this earth was meant to crush the survivors of the initial destruction but we were also given a way to fight it. Granted it was pure luck you and Mary Ellen stumbled upon a way to stop it, but I'm sure others have too. I think maybe some of us were meant to discover it in order to save some of those from dying, or being trapped like Victor."
Carl contemplated her words as he dug into his pocket for another butt. The click of the lighter was the only sound in the hushed night, even the horses had settled in to sleep. "So you think we should continue to save others like Victor if we discover them?" Xander asked.
"I doubt there are many left," Riley answered.
"But if there are?" Xander pressed.
"That's something we can discuss if it happens again. We're going to fight to save John but it's probably too late for The Lost Souls by now. There can't be much, if anything, left to them. We have a way to cure the newly infected, let's focus on that."
"Maybe she's not such a temperamental Supreme Being after all," Carl commented.
"Oh God is definitely a man," Riley retorted. "You guys have PMS worse than a teenage girl sometimes."
"You are a teenage girl," Xander reminded her.
"So I should know what I'm talking about," she replied.
Xander looked helplessly toward him. "How do I argue with that?"
"You don't," Carl told him.
He glanced toward the barn but John still hadn't reappeared. He wanted to make sure he was fine but he knew he'd only be met with scorn. His gaze went to the sun just poking over the horizon; it was almost time to hit the road and they had to be ready.
"John!" he shouted into the barn. Silence met him. Xander stepped up beside him and pushed the barn door further open to peer inside. He could feel the heat of Riley against his back as she stood on her toes to peer over his shoulder. "John!"
Nothing stirred within, not even the mice probably hidden within the shadows. The hair on his neck stood on end, a chill slid down his spine as he strained to see into the shadows. Where was he?
"Here," Riley said and handed him a flashlight.
Carl clutched it in his hand but he wasn't above admitting he was terrified of turning it on and discovering his best friend had become a monster. It had taken more time for Lee to succumb to the sickness but he hadn't been bitten and they had no idea what the incubation period was for this illness. For all he knew it could be anywhere from one hour to one week.
Images of John standing in the shadows and waiting to pounce on them flooded his mind. He could feel him watching him with hungry intent; feel the breath of him against his cheek even though nothing stirred there. Bracing himself, he flicked on the flashlight. He shone the beam down the dark row of stalls before him. Relief filled him when he didn't see his friend standing there, salivating as he waited to attack.
A crunching sound on his right caused him to spin the flashlight in that direction. John threw his hands up to block his face as the light hit him in the eyes. "Watch it!" he snapped.
"Sorry," Carl apologized and directed the light away from him.
"We were calling for you," Riley said.
"Can't a guy go to the bathroom in peace?" John muttered.
Carl moved out of the doorway as John shuffled toward him. "What is that?" he inquired as he spotted the leash looking thing in John's hand. A red helmet with white chips in the paint was tucked under his other arm.
"I'm hoping it's a leash of some sort," John answered.
"For what?" Xander asked.
"A horse," John replied as if Xander were a little dim but Carl thought it had been a perfectly acceptable question.
"What are you going to do with it?" Carl demanded.
"Catch a horse, hopefully," he added the last word as an aside.
"You look worse than Death did. Please go and chase a horse around. I will actually sit back and laugh as I watch that."
John gave him the finger and leaned against the doorway of the barn. "I promised Rochelle a horse," he muttered. "And I'm going to make sure she gets it. You know, just in case."
"Oh," Carl said dully. He felt like an ass. "I'm not so sure it's a good idea to bring back one of the animals that are a main target for the afterlife."
"I considered that but I don't think one would be an attraction and even if it is, they want nothing to do with us when they come for the horses. Besides, it looked like Death might be going back to whatever heaven or Hell unleashed it upon this planet."
"It's a lead chain," Riley said as she took it from John's hands. "And we'll just have to make sure Rochelle doesn't see what happens if a horseman decides to come and take Sea Biscuit away. Xander and I will try to catch one while Carl's taking care of your hand."
John gave her a tired smile. Carl nudged him toward the truck. "How are we going to catch one?" he heard Xander ask as they walked away.
"Maybe we can find one that's sleeping," Riley answered.
Carl assumed that was probably their only chance of catching one but he didn't say so. John followed him over to the truck, set the helmet on the floor and settled into the front seat. He carefully pulled the bandage away from John's hand to inspect the bite beneath. He kept his face impassive, but inwardly he winced when he saw the red, throbbing, and puss filled bite mark.
"No rubbing alcohol," John told him.
"No alcohol," he promised.
He cleaned the wound carefully and to the best of his ability. He didn't care what he had to do, he was getting John to that camp as soon as Xander and Riley returned. "We have to hook up the trailer," John told him when he finished wrapping the wound back up.
Carl glanced at the trailer behind the truck and nodded. "I'll do it."
"I'll help."
"Just sit. I've hooked up a trailer or two by myself in my lifetime."
Xander and Riley were just coming around the corner of the barn with a small brown horse between them when he finished hooking the trailer to the truck. "There's some food for it inside the barn," John informed them.
"We should get out of here," Carl said impatiently.
"Another ten minutes isn't going to make that much of a difference," John replied.
Carl shot him a look but he helped Xander and Riley load the horse onto the trailer. None of them had any idea what they were doing but he was pretty sure they'd gotten it mostly right. At least the gate on the back would stay up. They pulled bags of oats from a small room they found in the middle of the barn. They would ha
ve taken the hay and sweet feed out of the room too but it had already begun to mold and he didn't think it was good for any animal to be eating moldy food.
The sun had just completely risen over the horizon when he climbed into the truck and started it up. He glanced over at John but his friend's head was slumped against the door he'd passed out on.
CHAPTER 29
Al,
Al was completely focused on Rusty as he spoke. "It came over the ridge. At first I assumed I was dreaming, I didn't think there was any way it could possibly be real." Rusty had always been the best one at telling stories around the campfire, but it took all Al had not to yell at him to get on with it as he drew out his words and added a spooky tone to them. Rusty's eyes gleamed, he adjusted his stance to something more comfortable. "Or that my mind had finally shattered and I was only imagining it. Perhaps I'd even become one of the Nutters. Maybe hallucinating was the first step on my road to cannibalism."
"What was it?" Freddie demanded apparently not one for campfire tales.
"It was War," Rusty answered.
"There was a war at the farm?" Nancy inquired when Rusty didn't continue.
"No not a war, it was War." Rusty seemed to think this was a better explanation; Al had never been more confused in his life. He was half-tempted to throttle Rusty, if he thought it would get him some sort of an explanation out of him, he actually would have. Judging by the confused and irritated faces surrounding him, he wasn't the only one thinking about it either.
"It was one of the four horseman of the apocalypse, War," Leah, taking pity on them, finally explained.
He'd experienced many things in his life but this was the first time his blood ran cold, he almost laughed out loud, and just about threw up his hands and walked away from them in disgust. It was the most ridiculous thing he'd ever heard and yet upon hearing it he was certain it was true.
"War chased the horses into a corner, forcing them to pile on top of each other. When there was only one left it took the survivor from the top of the pile," Phoebe said.
"Took?" Donald said the word so hastily that it came out as tuck but they all understood him.
"That's the best way to explain it," she said. "You would have to see it to fully understand. It's really hard to explain. But yeah, the horse on top became its next mount and the one it had been riding just turned into ash."
"You're kidding, right?" Claire said with a snort.
"No." Rusty didn't have that eager, I'm going to tell you a tale, look on his face anymore. Instead, there was a look in his eyes that Al had become accustomed to over the months. It was a look that said, I've looked into the face of death, I'm still standing, but it took a little piece of me with it when it left.
"Are you sure that's what it was?" Al inquired.
Rusty bit on his inner lip as he nodded. "There was no denying it, believe me I tried. War rode in on a horse that was as red as blood. It left on a horse that had been white beforehand, but became just as red when War climbed onto its back. It was encircled with this red glow that I would almost say looked like fire, it was that bright, but it wasn't like it was surrounded in flames. I only got the impression of an aura of anger and fighting and… war."
They were all silent as they stared at Rusty with both disbelief and awe. Al didn't think he would ever get his eyebrows to come back down from their hiked up position on his forehead. He took his glasses off and rubbed at the bridge of his nose as he struggled to process this information. War, the second horseman of the apocalypse, could it be true?
"He held a sword and rode forward with this…"
"Purpose," R.J. filled in when his father's voice trailed off. "It rode with a purpose. It had this determination to get to those horses and move on. To where, I have no idea. Perhaps there is a war brewing somewhere else in the country or the world."
Al shook his head as he settled his glasses into place again. "We're at war." He gestured at the bodies of the sick. "We've been at war since the day it all started. Just because it's not an armed conflict like we've always known war to be, that doesn't mean it's not a conflict. We're definitely in the battle of our lives."
"True," Rusty agreed. "Very true."
"So if there's War then the other three are probably here somewhere too," Nancy said.
"I would think so," Rusty agreed.
"You're lucky it didn't see you," Mary Ellen told them.
"That's just it," Rusty said. "It did see us and it didn't care. It looked right at us and moved on."
"It has a mission, it's fulfilling it. It's not for War itself to kill us, it's for us to survive the war it has unleashed on us," Al explained. "I'm sure none of the others, not even Death, will acknowledge our presence on this plane. We're of no consequence to them."
"What does it all mean?" Nancy inquired.
Rusty shrugged and rubbed at his jaw. "Your guess is as good as mine. I've had weeks to try and figure that out and I'm as clueless as the day I was bounced out of bed by the first quake."
"It means we now get to rethink everything we ever understood to be true before," Donald said. "But without cable and internet I think we'll have plenty of time for thinking."
"True," Leah said.
Mary Ellen pulled Rochelle in front of her and draped her arms over her shoulders as she held her close. "What did it do after you saw it? Where did it go?" Rochelle asked.
"I don't know," Rusty answered. "It got on the horse it had chosen, rode up the hill and out of view like it had never been there to begin with. In fact I was left with the impression of a hallucination but that pile of horses was still there and everyone else had seen the same thing as me."
Al lifted his glasses again to rub at his nose. He'd thought such a revelation should give him faith in something more but right now he couldn't fully process what they were telling him. Some time alone would probably help, but as he looked around him, he realized no matter what it meant for the afterlife, they still had this life to deal with.
Starting with these bodies.
"We have to get these bodies out of here." They didn't move as they were still struggling to comprehend what they'd just been told. Practicalities didn't seem all that important when they'd been informed that War rode the earth, scouring for new mounts along the way. "The smell will attract animals. Bears being the ones we would prefer to deal with over the sick people."
"Yeah, yeah," Donald said and shook his head to clear it. "You're right. What do we do with them?"
"There's too many to dig graves for," Mary Ellen said.
"We can put them all in one of the pits we finished today and fill it back in," Donald suggested. "We'll just have to dig another one."
"Good idea," Al agreed.
Rusty moved to help him with one of the bodies. When they bent down together Rusty leaned closer to him. "Were any of you bit?" he asked in a conspiring whisper.
Al frowned at him and shook his head. "No, why?"
"You haven't seen what a bite can do to someone?"
Al dropped the feet he'd been holding and straightened up again. This wasn't a conversation that should be kept between the two of them. "What are you talking about?"
Rusty glanced at the others before dropping the shoulders of the one he'd been about to help Al carry. "No one has been bit?" Rusty inquired.
"Xander has," Mary Ellen answered.
Rusty's hand went to the revolver at his side; the action caused Donald to grab for his gun too. Al rested his hand on top of Rusty's in an attempt to calm the situation. "Easy," Al told him.
"Where's Xander?" Rusty demanded not relaxing even a little.
"He went into town with the others," Al answered.
Rusty relaxed visibly as his hand fell away from his gun. "That's good. For us, at least. Your other friends, not so much."
Mary Ellen stared at him before shooting a questioning look at Al. Nausea began to coil in his stomach. Did the sickness somehow hibernate inside of people for an extended period of time before
taking them over? Had they sent the others off with a ticking time bomb?
"He was perfectly fine when he left here," Al said.
"Sometimes it takes a little while for the sickness to sink in, once it does they become just as nutty as the rest of them," R.J. said.
"Wait," Mary Ellen said and held her hand up. Lines were etched around her pinched mouth; her eyes were focused on Rusty. "The sickness can lay dormant in people for months at a time?"
Now it was Rusty's turn to look confused. "No, it's rather fast moving. If he was bitten yesterday he would have been fine when he left here, but by now he would be feeling the effects of it. I've seen it take a day or two before the fever and sore neck start to kick in."
"Xander was bitten months ago," Mary Ellen said.
"That's not possible!" Phoebe blurted. "Once a person is bitten it's only a matter of days, sometimes a week before they succumb to the sickness and turn like a rabid animal on every one around them. We've seen it!"
Mary Ellen glanced at Al again, she didn't seem to know what to say and he knew they still weren't overly trusting of Rusty and his family. "It is possible," Al said. "Xander was bitten awhile ago. It made him sick in the beginning but he's fine now."
The four of them stared at him as if he'd just told them that War had ridden down a hill and claimed a horse to ride like it was an everyday occurrence. "How?" Phoebe breathed. "Why?"
"He was bitten in the leg, we cleaned it up and we were able to get some ampicillin and prednisone into him relatively quickly afterward. At the time we were just looking for any combination that would help with the swelling, the infection, and the sickness." Mary Ellen stopped speaking as she held her hands out before her. "It must have been the right one."
Rusty and his family continued to stare at them. Rusty finally spoke, "You mean there's a way to stop it?"
"I think, if you get them some medicine in the beginning, there is. We think we have an idea of what might have caused it all." Al told them about what they'd discovered in the library and what viruses they suspected had been the basis for the sickness spreading across the earth.
When he finished speaking, Leah took a small step back and then sat on the ground. "Mom," she breathed.
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