The guard clenched his jaw and shut his eyes for a brief moment. “If it were me, I’d head to the lower levels. More places to hide.”
“There. That wasn’t so terrible, was it?” Dr. Broussard motioned for the guard to lead the way. “I wonder if Dr. McAlester is aware of the lower levels?”
The guard shrugged. “I suppose we’ll find out.”
“I suppose we will.” He patted the guard’s shoulder. “Lead on, my good man.”
The guard stiffened and turned to him. “This doesn’t make us friends.”
Broussard smiled at him. “Ah, but we’re also not enemies. And in my book, if we’re not enemies, we are friends.”
The guard shook his head as he turned down the hall. Under his breath he muttered, “Fucking Frogs.”
Simon stared through the dirt encrusted windows of the grocery store and watched as the sun slipped lower on the horizon. As the last few licks of light stretched across the early evening sky, he gathered his troops.
“We march on the slow, dumb ones tonight. We burn them to the ground and we feast on their roasted remains.”
Whoops and grunts of approval erupted from the gathered Quee and Simon felt a rush of importance. It would be him that led the attack and it would be him that would finish off the Cagers. As muddled as his mind was, he remembered only the intense hatred he felt for that collection of people. He couldn’t remember why, but he knew that they were his mortal enemies and must be crushed.
The headaches returned and he reached for the bitter pills in his pocket. He tossed a small handful back and washed it down with his ever handy brown liquor.
As the Quee gathered their weapons and prepared to march, he selected a smaller bottle that would travel easier and slipped it into his vest pocket. He knew that he couldn’t be far from the bitter pills or the brown liquor. He needed them like the Quee needed him.
He marched to the front doors of the store and turned back to eye his army. Although he couldn’t be positive, it definitely appeared as though a fair number had escaped their ranks. He clenched his jaw and set his shoulders. “We are more than a tribe. We are a family.” He eyed the women especially as he spoke. “Nobody leaves the family without permission. Ever.”
A light murmur rose from those assembled and Simon left no room for negotiation as he stepped forward. “Anyone who tries to leave, you stop them. Bring them to me.” He gave them a false smile and lowered his voice. “I would speak with them before they try to make it on their own. Remember, there’s safety in numbers.”
He wasn’t sure where that thought had originated but he felt oddly proud of himself for thinking of something so clever. He stepped aside and motioned his army into the parking lot. “We make war so that we can finally have peace.”
Chapter 24
“You didn’t say anything about people fighting.” Trevor spoke softly as he drove through the winding city streets. “Is that really why you wanted to leave?”
Donna shrugged. “It was frightening.” She avoided his gaze and tried to think of another viable excuse to leave the safety of the collective. “I’m sure it was probably just people’s nerves.” Trevor slowed the RV and pulled to the side of the road. “What are you doing?” She gave him a puzzled look.
He put the RV in park and turned to her. “So you really have no desire to be with me and Patricia? You just wanted away from the violence?” He did his best to keep his voice calm and his tone even. If nothing else, he didn’t want to upset Patricia.
Donna sighed heavily and shook her head. “I really don’t know what I want or don’t want.” She could feel her eyes begin to mist and she wiped at them, vowing that she would keep herself together.
“I’m not gonna toss you out on your ass, Donna. I just want to know the truth.” He reached out and took her hand. “If you want to make a go at ‘us’ then I’m game. I’d love to try again…especially under better circumstances.” He cleared his throat and glanced back to make sure Patricia was still okay. “But if we’re heading out on our own and you have no desire for there to be an ‘us,’ I’d like to know.”
She turned and gave him a look that he couldn’t read. “Are you giving me an ultimatum?”
Trevor let go of her hand and sat back in the driver’s seat. “No, Donna. Quite the opposite.” He took a deep breath to maintain his low and even tone. “All I’m saying is, I don’t want to say or do something that might make you feel…like you told Hatcher you used to feel when we were together.” He turned and faced her. “If you don’t feel it and just wanted a way out of there, I understand and I won’t hold you to what you said before. But if you really do want to try again, I’m excited to try. That’s all I’m saying.”
Donna swallowed hard and stared out of the windshield. “I’m not sure what I want, Trevor.” She glanced back at him and shook her head. “If you’re really okay with us just traveling together, then let’s try that for now.” She averted her eyes again and added, “If it grows into something more, then we’ll both know.”
Trevor felt his chest tighten as she spoke but he gave her a reassuring smile. “Okay then. Just traveling partners.”
“For now,” she added quickly.
“Until you’re ready.” He put the RV back into gear and pulled back onto the road. He tried not to look at her as he drove but he felt a wall of tension form that he wasn’t sure about. Perhaps it was his own mind pushing her away, preparing him for the cold shoulder that he’d receive for any small act of kindness. Or perhaps it was his heart putting up defenses for the letdown that he was sure would come.
Either way, Trevor vowed to keep her at arm’s length until she set the terms of their relationship. He glanced at the rearview and saw Patricia staring out of the rear window. Regardless of what Donna or the world had in store for him, he knew that she was his primary concern and nothing would stop him from keeping her safe.
“Holy shit,” Donna muttered. “What is that?”
Trevor turned his attention back to the road and slowed the RV. “What is that?”
“It looks like a crowd.” Donna couldn’t hide the fear from her voice. “Oh my god…they’re heading this way.”
Trevor fumbled with the overhead compartment and gripped a set of binoculars. He held them to his eyes and felt his blood run cold. “Fuck me,” he whispered.
“What?!” Donna nearly screeched.
“It’s Ragers.” Trevor swallowed hard. “And I swear to god…Simon is leading them.”
“I really don’t want to pry.” Carol spoke softly as the sun began to set. “But I was part of the research team that created the cure.” She searched the woman’s eyes, hoping to make a connection. “It would really help a lot if I knew some particulars from somebody who was infected.”
The woman sat with her hands in her lap, her jagged fingernails a new and sudden point of interest. She gave Carol a slight shrug, the clean t-shirt slipping from her neck and off of her thin shoulders. “I’m not sure what I could tell you.”
Carol sat back, her notebook open and ready. “Can you tell me how you were infected?”
The woman sighed and closed her eyes. “My husband tried to…” Her voice trailed off. She suddenly sat upright and opened her eyes. “He scratched me in the chase.”
Carol quickly jotted down her notes. “And then?”
“And then?” The woman shivered uncomfortably on the short couch and adjusted the clean clothes that Carol had given her after her sponge bath. “And then I got a fever and the worst headaches I’ve ever had.” She glanced away and lowered her voice. “I don’t really remember much after that.”
Carol stared at her, unmoving. A moment later she closed the notebook and leaned forward. “Okay. What about recently? What’s the first thing you do remember?”
The woman pulled her legs up onto the couch and crossed them, trying to get more comfortable. “I woke up today and…and it was like I could remember…things, but not everything.”
“You stil
l can’t remember your name?”
She shook her head slowly. “I feel like it was Kelly. Or Shelly. Or…maybe Telly?”
Carol gave her a reassuring smile. “Let’s just run with Kelly. If you remember later, we’ll switch.” She patted her hand then flipped her notebook back open. “What about before you woke up this morning? Any recent memories that maybe led to this morning?”
Kelly rubbed at her temples. “Can I get a few more aspirin? My head is really starting to hurt again.”
“Sure.” Carol stood and rifled through her makeshift medicine cabinet. “How about some acetaminophen instead?” She shook out a few tablets and handed them to her. As she took her seat again she noted that Kelly seemed very uncomfortable with details. Maybe if I ask more generalized questions.
“Thank you.”
“I’m sorry to bombard you with so many questions, but it could really help as we go from here.” She sat back and tried to read Kelly’s body language. “Do you remember having any ‘feelings’ while you were infected?”
She snorted as she screwed the lid back on the water bottle. “Anger.” She looked up at Carol and her expression was one of morose. “I was angry all of the time. At everything.”
“Okay.” Carol scribbled in her notebook. “And there was no real cause?”
Kelly shook her head. “Just absolute rage.” She looked up. “And intense headaches.”
Carol paused and studied her for a moment. “Like a migraine?”
Kelly shook her head again. “No, I’ve had migraines. I remember that much.” She inhaled deeply and exhaled slowly, her mind trying to put into words the pain she suffered. “No, this was much worse. Blind rage and blinding headaches. Also, a hunger…like you wouldn’t believe.”
Carol nodded as she wrote. “That’s understandable. You look like you’ve lost a lot of weight.”
“No.” Kelly interrupted. “From the beginning.” Her face went slack and she had a thousand yard stare as she spoke. “Insatiable hunger. Constantly. Even if I’d just fed.”
Fed? Not…eaten? “Go on.”
“No matter how much you gorge yourself, you’re still starving. Nothing satisfies.” She swallowed hard, her eyes filling with tears. “Ever.”
Carol closed her notebook and leaned forward, her hand reaching for Kelly’s. “I’m sorry.”
The woman jerked her hand back and stared wide eyed at the researcher across from her. She suddenly realized what she had shared and stood up from the couch in a panic. “I shouldn’t be here.”
“Wait!” Carol stood and reached for her. “The sun is down now. It isn’t safe out there and—”
“Look at me!” Kelly screamed. “I’m one of them. Even if I’m really not.” She turned and caught a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror. “Bald. Ghostly white.” She held her arms out, dark veins still visible under the paper thin skin. “A killer.” Her voice was barely a whisper.
Carol stepped closer and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder. “You can’t blame yourself for what happened while you were infected.” She stared at Kelly’s eyes in the mirror. “You had no control.”
Kelly turned and gave her a stern stare. “I remember.”
Carol gave her a reassuring nod. “Good. And when you’re ready, we can explore some of what happened, but for now, just accept that you weren’t responsible for your actions.”
Kelly gave her a sad, slow smile. “You still don’t understand.” She turned around and faced her. “I enjoyed killing.”
Simon stopped and stared at the machine ahead, its lights nearly blinding him. He watched as it sat in the middle of the road, taunting him. After a brief moment, the vehicle backed up and turned around, driving off at high speed.
He stared at the retreating taillights and knew that he had seen it before. He just couldn’t remember where.
Clyde appeared by his side. “They come to us?”
Simon gave him a puzzled look. “Where have we seen that before?”
“Last night. When we watch.”
Simon groaned as he suddenly remembered the large white vehicle parked behind the Cager compound. “Damn it.” He snatched his boomstick from his shoulder and pointed it where the RV had just been. “Too late.”
“What wrong?” Clyde asked.
“Now they know we are coming.” Simon groaned. “We’ve lost the surprise.”
Clyde shrugged. “So?”
“So they’ll be prepared.” He rubbed at his neck as his muddled mind tried to think. “No surprise…. What should we do?”
“Burn them,” Clyde answered flatly.
Simon slowly nodded. “Then we keep going.” He turned back toward the road and heard his people fall into step behind him. “War is coming and Hell comes with us.”
Chapter 25
“Hatcher!” The sentry darted through the foyer and nearly beat down the door to the office. “We got a problem!”
Hatcher upended his chair and weaved through the office, making a hasty exit. He slid to a stop at the main doors and stared at Trevor’s RV. “What’s wrong?”
Trevor appeared at the front gates, his hands trembling. “They’re coming, man. Tons of ‘em.” He pointed down the road as he spoke. “And I swear, it looked just like Simon right out in front.”
Hatcher’s face creased with confusion. “Who’s coming?” He glanced to Roger. “Simon’s dead, right?”
“Ragers, man!” Trevor nearly screamed. He was bouncing up and down with nervous energy. “They were marching up the road like they owned it and they’re headed this way.”
Patricia appeared at his side and tugged at his arm. “Go! Now!” She pulled him back toward the RV and Trevor gave them all sad eyes.
“I’m sorry Mr. Hatcher, but I gotta do what’s best for Tricia.” She continued to pull him toward the RV and he paused at the door. “I’d stay and help you fend them off, but…” He glanced at the little girl as she crawled over the driver’s seat.
“No worries.” Hatcher nodded to him. “We’ve got this.” He stepped up to the driver’s window as Trevor pulled the seat belt on. “Thanks for giving us the heads up.”
With shaky hands Trevor reached out and took Hatcher’s grip. “I wish I could do more.”
“Go on.” Hatcher stepped back. “Good luck out there.”
He watched the RV spin gravel as Trevor accelerated away from the front entrance then turned and faced the people assembled at the main gates. “You heard the man. We got Zulus headed this way.”
“He said it looked like Simon was with them?” Roger muttered excitedly.
Hatcher shook his head. “Simon was killed; he’s dead, right?” Hatcher blew his breath out hard and glanced toward the road. “At least, he’d better be.”
Hank hitched his pants up and whistled to the assembled people. “Gear up! We got a fight coming!”
Mike Sutton sat up on the edge of the bed, his jaw clenched as Stella wrapped his middle with ACE bandages. “Tighter.”
“You still have to breathe, Mike.”
He grabbed the wrap from her hands and pulled it taught. “I need my insides to stay inside more than I need air, woman.” He turned eyes to her that she couldn’t quite read. “Have I told you today how much I love you?”
“No, but don’t start.” She snatched the wrap back from him and tightened her pull. “I’m sure the others can handle it. They don’t need you getting in their way.”
The man formerly known as Savage slipped off the edge of the tiny mattress and came to his full height. “When the day comes that I’m not willing to stand shoulder to shoulder and defend the woman I love, you may as well plant me in the ground.”
“That’s what I’m afraid of, Mike.” Stella tiptoed and kissed his hairy cheek. “You stay safe out there. You don’t have to be on the front lines.”
“I’ll go where I can do the most damage.” Mike side stepped her and reached for his flannel shirt. Tugging it on, he turned and gave her a soft smile. “You did good
, woman. My middle don’t hurt. And I can still breathe.”
She placed her hand on his chest and stared into his eyes. For a moment she feared that it may be the last time she saw him. She buried that fear deep inside and pulled gently at his whiskers, pulling his face closer to hers. “You come home in one piece.” She tugged his beard smartly. “You hear me?”
He ignored the pain and gave her a nod. “Yes ma’am.” With a quick kiss to the tip of her nose he stepped out of the infirmary and turned towards the armory.
Stella fell back to the mattress and stifled a sob as he disappeared into the swarm of people. “Please, God…keep him safe.”
David Cooper slapped at Vicky’s hands. “Let me up. I can stand. That means I can shoot.”
“Your old wrinkled ass is staying right here in bed. You have healing to do.” David tried to fight her off but pulled something in his wound, buckling him back onto the mattress. “What did I tell you?” she chided.
He gasped and held his side. “At least get me a gun. If they get through the gates…”
“If they get through the gates, you won’t stop them.” She shot him an angry stare.
“It’s not for them.” His voice was barely a whisper. He cupped her cheek and pulled her closer. “I can’t become like that. And I damned sure don’t want to be eaten alive.”
Her eyes widened as she realized what he was asking. She pulled away and opened her mouth but no words came. “Coop, I don’t…I couldn’t…”
“You don’t have to pull the trigger, sweetie. Just hand me a pistol. I’ll drop as many as I can before I put the last shot to use, I promise.” He kissed the back of her hand. “I promise.”
Vicky Sue stood up straight and squared her shoulders. “It won’t come that that.”
“Call it insurance.” He gave her a crooked smile. “Or consider it blood pressure medicine. I won’t be near as worried if I had something other than my limp pecker in my hand.” He grinned wider at his joke, hoping it would put her more at ease.
Caldera 8: Simon Sez Page 18
