Almawt Virus Series (Book 3): Days Since...Jenny [Day 986]

by Wilson, Robert

  The air stung against her face. She drew the kerchief high on her cheek bones and adjusted her sock hat, leaving only her eyes to suffer the bitter cold. She brought the pistol from its holster and kept the lead in her other hand. Sherman seemed indifferent to the conditions. He simply stood there, patient, waiting next to Jenny for the signal to advance. Which way? The kerchief absorbed her sigh as she studied her surroundings.

  With the snow reflecting every measure of light from the gibbous moon, the backyards were relatively well-lit. To her right stood a stretch of chain-link fences which would prove difficult with Sherman. You weigh maybe, what—She patted against his side—seventy pounds? The idea of lifting the Belgian Malinois up and into each yard seemed impossible—a likely injury for at least one of them, if not both. The path to the left was longer but unhindered, so… Left it is. They trudged through the backyards toward the end of the block, taking care not to be seen, not to make a sound.

  After rounding the last house in the row, they raced for the other side of the street. From this angle, Jenny observed an extra line of smoke rising from the backyard of the Second Alliance camp. Damn… So, we still have the two up front and the people inside, but now there’s probably another crew in the back. Great! This is way more than the four from earlier. Way more! I’m in over my head. I can’t take all of them on… She shook her head. Danny, what the fuck am I doing? What if Matt and Grant aren’t even here? What if they already moved them? I gotta get closer.

  “You have to wait here, buddy.” Jenny tucked the lead into one of his harness pockets. “It’ll only be a sec, then I’ll be back for you,” she whispered while switching out the pistol for the rifle. At least I’ll have a bit of range with this thing if I need it. She’d only managed a few steps before Sherman bounded through the snow after her. “Bleib!” she hissed. He whined in response and took closer to her. “Bleib! Stay!” Come on, boy. She knelt beside him, rustling his fur. I can’t risk it. I wasn’t expecting all this extra shit. You’re too loud. Just stay. “Please, Sherman.” She put a hand, palm out, toward him, trying to settle the eager canine as she backed away. “Bleib!”

  The command finally seemed to take—his butt slowly sank into the snow. She turned from him, half expecting the crunch of his steps to follow, but none came. Good, boy.

  With the rifle up and at the ready, Jenny took to the street just one block over from the Second Alliance camp to keep some distance between them and her movements. Please still be there guys. Slinking along the fronts of each home, she slid behind hedges, between abandoned cars, fled the gaps between the houses on her way back toward the middle of the block. So far, so good. She slowed, nearing the two pillars of smoke rising from the camp. Now, with only one yard away, Jenny edged along the side of the house and lifted the latch to a chain-link fence. A sharp clink and she stepped through, leaving the gate open behind her if she found escape necessary.

  In front of her, the wavering light from a fire struggled through a stand of evergreens separating her yard from theirs. She plucked the pair of binoculars from her chest harness. No good. The branches, the trunks too thick. Every angle provided nothing but darkness and shadows. Disappointed, she replaced the binoculars then pressed her hands against her brow. This is it. All or nothing, right? Her stomach felt hollow. A painful familiarity. She lowered her kerchief, only to take a few breaths to calm herself, to prevent herself from succumbing to her nerves. I have to get closer. Have to! Twenty strides along the fence led Jenny right into the nest of evergreens at the back end of the yard.

  From here, Jenny spotted two Guards, both warming their hands at a fire built within a wheelbarrow—their rifles leaned against it. This isn’t gonna be easy. She pulled her rifle up and into her shoulder, aiming it squarely at one of the Guards. This is crazy. Knowing a simple pull of the trigger could end him. That he’d never know what happened. His life would just be over. But really what use would it be? I can’t take out the whole camp by myself. Stay hidden and wait for the opportunity to find Matt and Grant and get them the hell out of here. She dropped the rifle to a low ready and moved closer to the fence. The Guards’ low grumblings grew into a conversation.

  “Whew!” The smaller of the two rubbed his hands together. “Shit, man, how much longer ‘til we’re relieved and back inside.”

  His counterpart flipped his wrist over toward the fire. “Looks like maybe fifteen minutes.” He scoffed. “If they’re even still awake.”

  “If they’re late, even a minute, I’m gonna kick their asses.”

  “Like hell you are…” They broke into a fit of laughter.

  “Well, if that don’t work, I say we hand our two new friends our rifles and let them”—The smaller Guard thumbed back toward the house—“stand out here in the cold. Hell, they’re gonna be out here anyway…”

  Must be talking about Matt and Grant. They’re still here. Jenny studied the house. Underneath the deck. The windows. The yard. Still unable to zero in on Matt and Grant, she continued to listen in, hoping for some clues.

  “...Don’t think they’d run off at this point, doubt they’d know their way back. Probably be too scared to try headin’ home anyways.”

  “Probably freeze to death.”

  “Not sure Haverty would care if they did.”

  “I’m not willing to test it.” The larger Guard shook his head. “With my luck, I’d be reassigned to guarding the moonshine camp. Heard the place changes a man in no time.”

  “Probably from getting blitzed out of their minds, then having to come back to reality once the tour’s over.”

  “Doubt they’re drinkin’ it. They guard the shit like gold.”

  “Gold ain’t shit anymore.”

  “Damn it, you know what I mean.”

  The two carried on with their conversation, and Jenny listened, shivering, nervous her trembling body would somehow alert them to her presence. Squatting down, she tried to preserve her body heat. At least the trees blocked some of the wind, but not enough to stop the numbness crawling from her toes and up her legs, prickling at her fingertips. Something’s gotta give here. Not sure how much longer I’m gonna be able to do this.

  Some time passed.

  “It been fifteen minutes yet?”

  He checked his watch. “Nope. Twenty.”

  “Shit, man, you fall asleep standing there?” The Guard scraped his rifle from the wheelbarrow and traipsed off toward the house.

  His partner did the same. “Wait up. Who takes our place?”

  “Not my problem.”

  Monitoring their path to the house, she waited, sucking in quick breaths to prepare herself for the impending task—she couldn’t help her body from leaning closer to the fence, eager. Their long march up the back steps of the deck chipped away at Jenny’s patience. Maybe I should have shot them… Their voices carried, nonchalant, oblivious to her presence, her intentions. Hurry up! She readied her footing as the back door creaked open and the two finally disappeared into the house.

  Within seconds an argument erupted inside.

  Here’s my chance! Jenny bounded over the chain-link fence and stumbled forward, crashing against the base of a pine tree. Damn it! Flustered, she peeled herself from the ground and brushed the pine needles from her clothes. She took her rifle across the yard. Alone as far as she could tell. Cautiously, she padded over to the edge of the lawn. There!—Underneath the deck, nothing to distinguish between the night and the shadows—The perfect hiding place…

  “Just get out there!” The argument continued to echo from inside the house, drowning out the crunch of her footsteps along the fence line. She couldn’t make out the other half of the yelling. All she knew was the two were growing louder, moving toward the back door. Fearing she’d be caught, Jenny scrambled underneath the deck—her first step sinking into a layer of gravel. The unexpected noise made her cringe.

  “Back to back? Another shift? You gotta be shitting me!” His voice sounded as if it were right above her. Careful to
remain unnoticed, she tiptoed into the shadows beneath the stairs, to wait, to listen. “Throw the boy in the rotation. He’s gotta damn rifle too, you know. If he’s supposed to be a scout someday, he’s gotta start learning. There’s no better time than now.”

  A crunch of gravel, but not her feet. Jenny whipped her head around—only the night behind her as far as she could tell. She retreated from the stairs, feeling along the brick to guide her feet toward the noise.

  “You expect me to send him out there alone?”

  “He ain’t scared. Gonna be a scout, right kid?” he continued to argue.

  “En. E.” A struggling voice came from the darkness—each syllable sounded as if forced through a gag.

  The pounding of her heart shot into her throat. What the… She inched the muzzle of the rifle toward the voice underneath the deck. The struggling voice rose with panic.

  “Grant…? Matt...?” she whispered.

  The struggling voice sounded in agreement.

  The deck creaked—a pair of boots now above her.

  “See, he’s got this. It’s time to get out of the house, kid.” Another set of boots stepped out. “Now without Mommy and Daddy around to protect you, you’ll finally get a taste of what it’s like to earn your keep. How you like that, huh?”

  Jenny didn’t hear a response.

  “Nothing? Spoiled—”

  “I’m not above doing anything.”

  “Well then listen up cause you’re only getting the spiel once. Both the prisoners are here below the deck. All you have to do is make sure they’re still breathing every once and awhile. The rest of the time, warm up by the fire and shoot anything that moves out there. Pretty simple, so don’t fuck it up.”

  “And how long’s the shift?” the scout asked.

  I know I know that voice… She racked her brain. One of the Guards from River’s Edge? It’s gotta be...

  “We’ll get you when your time’s up.”

  “Alright…”

  “Oh, and make sure you throw a couple more logs on the fire. You’re gonna need it. That woodpile’s back by the fence. Last thing I need is to find you out here dead and frozen to the ground.”

  The back door slammed shut.

  Each step crackled as the scout descended into the yard. Jenny kept the rifle’s muzzle trained on the newcomer’s thin frame once he rounded the front end of the deck. Don’t do anything stupid, guy. I’m not losing my friends again. The scout stomped over to the wheelbarrow and leaned his rifle against it. Just leave us alone, and we’ll be on our way.

  She let her rifle hang from its sling and backed up toward her friends, eyes forward, one of her hands grasping at the air behind her. A shoulder. Quickly, she knelt down, blindly feeling for what secured him in place. Around his wrists, she found a rope, maybe two, in an elaborate knot woven into some metal apparatus attached to the house. She stripped the gloves from her hands to feel along the rope binding the two wrists together. Holding them in place, Jenny exhaled before taking the knife from her cargo pocket. Don’t mess this up. Doing her best to distinguish flesh from fiber, she wriggled the blade into place. “Hold still,” she whispered and began to saw the rope, mindful not to yank the knife and slice into something unintended. It broke with a satisfying snap.

  “Hey,” Matt whispered after removing his own gag. “Where the hell’s Danny?”

  She stuffed her hand over his mouth—“Get Grant”—and handed him the knife before taking hold of the rifle again. To her left, Matt worked to free Grant while she fixed her attention back to the fire. Shit… She forced a lump down into her stomach. The wheelbarrow sat unattended. Taking hold of Matt’s coat, she gave a violent shake to get his attention back to the yard.

  “Wha—” he tried.

  Another shake.

  They sat in silence, neither breathing—her rifle pointed toward the glow of the fire. Failure filled her mind, defeat, anticipating their capture. Then, the crunching of snow in the distance allowed them to breathe once again. The scout plodded toward the wheelbarrow with stacked firewood cradled in his arms. Lazily, he dumped his load to the ground, allowing the firelight to climb his chest, to illuminate his face, his dark framed glasses.

  Jenny’s heart dropped.

  In a trance, she took a step toward the scout.

  Xavier… Her eyes honed in on his face, discerning its features. It can’t be, but… No, he’s dead. It can’t. Tears formed within her eyes, blurring the sight of this cruel joke her mind played with her. She swiped the tears from her face. Even after, it was Xavier that stood there feeding the fire, warming his hands. But in a Second Alliance uniform. It couldn’t be him. To be sure, she forced another step. Someone grabbed her from behind.

  “Is that…?” Matt whispered, still clutching Jenny’s coat.

  She ignored him, her eyes remained on Xavier, watching him as he pulled a few logs from the snow and stacked them neatly on top of the fire. I know it’s him. Without a doubt. “Xavier,” she said, quiet, but forceful. His head lifted, searching across the top of the deck. “It’s me. Jenny.”

  “Jenny...? Where the hell—”

  “Shush! Under the deck.” Jenny and Matt crept toward the yard.

  Xavier leaned forward to see. “Is it really you?”

  “Yes, really.”

  “Matt and Grant, too,” Matt butted in.

  “Man…” Xavier’s voice broke. It took everything inside her not to break down with him. “How the hell did—”

  The back door creaked open. “Who you out here talking to?” one of the Guards asked, his footsteps crossing the deck.

  “No one.” Xavier’s voice quivered. “Nothing. Just… I’m just singing.”

  “Well cut that shit out. No one wants to hear it.” His hand scraped across the deck’s railing, plowing a stretch of snow onto the ground. A few clumps fell just beyond Jenny and Matt’s boots. “Thomas wants them checked on. They causing any trouble down there?”

  “No.” Xavier made toward the bottom of the deck’s staircase. “I checked them like five minutes ago. Everything’s good. They’re sleeping. Ropes are good.”

  “How the hell they sleeping down there? I gotta see this.”

  He’s coming. Shit!

  “You guys made it sound like it was a long march.” Xavier caught the Guard a few steps from the bottom of the flight. “Probably exhausted.”

  “Pussies.” The Guard chuckled.

  “You need me to do anything else?”

  “Quit singing and get the fuck out of my way, small fry.”

  “Thomas put me on watch,” Xavier tried.

  “Don’t give a shit. It’s my ass if anything happens to them.”

  Through the gaps in the open stairs, she watched the Guard brush past him. Her heart sank. Silently, she slid her pistol from its holster and handed it to Matt before taking the rifle into her shoulder, steadying it toward the Guard.

  “Hey!” Another voice rang out from the back door. “If the kid’s got watch, then the kid’s got watch. He’s not gonna learn any other way, right? Wasn’t that what you said?”

  “Yeah, I said that, so what?” The Guard spoke from only fifteen feet away from Jenny.

  Go Away. Go away. Please go away.

  “Well, how about this? If you’re so concerned, why don’t you stay out there with him?”

  “Point taken.”

  Each thud of the Guard’s ascending boots loosened the suffocating grip from Jenny’s chest.

  “You wanted your chance, so don’t fuck it up, kid. I’ll be back to check on you in a couple hours. Don’t die out here.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  The door snapped shut.

  Matt broke away to finish freeing Grant.

  Jenny watched Xavier retreat from the stairs and back to the wheelbarrow to grab his rifle. That uniform… I don’t understand. Why are you with them? Why are you wearing that thing? A million more questions swarmed her mind, but she had to suppress them. There would be a time for
that, but it certainly wasn’t now.

  Xavier’s approach seemed to take forever, but finally he stood before her. She reached trembling fingers toward him, toward the kid risen from death. Her hand wouldn’t budge—something about the uniform prevented her. Are you still Xavier? Or aren’t you? Before she could convince herself either way, she felt his embrace, his body crashing into hers, then all around she was smothered. Each friend came together, squeezing one another.

  “We gotta—” Jenny struggled for air. “We gotta go, guys. Now.”

  The four of them snuck off to the far end of the yard, then bolted along the path Jenny had worn in the snow earlier, back to where she’d left Sherman.

  Pawprints circled the yard, but no dog. She could see the anxiety in his pacing, his lack of direction. Where are you, boy? His absence placed a sickness in her stomach. Afraid she’d lost him, her eyes darted across the snow, winding along his tracks—no telling where he could be. Hesitant, but without a choice, she broke the stillness of the night with a hushed plea. “Sherman! Hier!”

  “Who?” Xavier asked from beside her, bent over, catching his breath.

  “Hier!” she called again, ignoring him.

  “Where’s Danny?” Matt asked. “Seriously, Jenny, we’re gonna need him.”

  She pushed the truth down. Away from her mind. “Hier!”

  “What’s the plan?” Xavier tried for her attention again.

  “We get out of here, that’s it, that’s all I got,” Jenny snapped, still somewhat suspicious of him in that uniform. “The plan was to get Matt and Grant. I’ll guess you’ll do too.”

  “Why’d you—”

  “Shush.” In the distance, a rustling caught her attention. “Sherman?” The tramping of snow approached at what sounded like a gallop. His body came into view. An exhale of relief. “You had me scared, boy.” She buried herself within his side for only a moment. “Alright,”—she stood—“we gotta get my shit out of a house over this way, then back to the Depot. At least there, we have a chance against the S.A.”