by Penn Gates
“I am pleased to meet you, Mr. Hatfield,” Janet murmurs uncertainly.
“To tell ya the truth, I’m a bit confused, and I was hopin’ you can set me straight,” Hatfield tells her. “It’s real simple - do you want to come with George and me to the farm, or do you want to stay here?”
Janet studies her shoes. “I am wanting to stay here with the Frau Doktor,” she whispers.
George wears an expression that would be described as angry on anyone else’s face. “Janet! Our parents were meaning for us to be married. This is not fitting to their memory.”
The shy maiden suddenly disappears. “You are talking like an Englischer lawyer!” Janet cries. “I will not be joining my life with a man who thinks about rules instead of love and compassion!”
“I am willing to have you - in spite of all that has happened,” George announces. “Love grows over the years between a man and his wife.”
Hatfield winces. “I’m pretty sure you just lost your case, bud.” He places his hand on Shirk’s shoulder again. “Let’s go home now.”
Lisa is surprised more by his expression than his words. It seems to suggest that this Hatfield character has empathy for Janet’s situation. After giving Janet a hug, she catches up with Holden and their visitors at the front entrance of the school. Hatfield is already sitting in a rough-looking old pickup, his elbow leaning out the window. George is pacing back and forth on the sidewalk.
Hatfield turns the key and the engine coughs to life. “Get in the truck, George, or I’m leavin’ without you - that there’s a promise.”
George finally gives in and clambers up next to Hatfield. The man leans forward and talks across the stone-faced teenager. “Speakin’ of leavin’ - when’s that gonna be for ya’ll?”
“I guess when we feel like it,” Holden says.
“Until then - stay frosty, bro.” Hatfield tells him with a casual, two-fingered salute.
“What did he mean by that?” Lisa asks Holden, as they stand watching the old pick up make a turn onto the main street without slowing down.
“He’s warning me to watch my back.”
“That sounds more like a threat than a friendly warning,” Lisa says nervously.
“The guy’s ex-military.” From the way he’s staring into the distance, Lisa isn’t sure if Holden’s still speaking to her or just thinking out loud. “And not your average grunt,” he says. “Maybe special forces.” He reaches into his pocket and pulls out a small handgun. “Those guys usually have two settings: on or off.”
Lisa rubs her forehead where she’s developed an instant headache. “Why do you have that? I thought there was a mutual agreement to be unarmed.”
Holden looks at her in disbelief. “Are you kidding? The last time I let down my guard, I got shot.”
CHAPTER 13: Second Chances
Lisa is exhausted from another restless night haunted by failure. After bad coffee and reconstituted eggs she can’t bear to eat, she wanders aimlessly from the mess hall. In its day, the space was both a cafeteria and school assembly room. Now it’s littered with sleeping bags at night until it becomes a mess hall again in the morning when they stack those bedrolls against the far wall. Like the banquet room/barracks at the lodge, she thinks, feeling homesick for a place that was only ever temporary.
Lisa stands staring at the rear exit door. She should go work in the lab, but she doesn’t want to. She doesn’t know what she wants to do. She seems to be frozen in placed by an overwhelming sense of futility, The door of the mess hall opens and the hum of voices spills into the hall, before it closes and silence returns. She doesn’t look at whoever just left. She doesn’t care.
Holden says from behind her, “You haven’t set foot in The Whale for days.” He gives her a gentle nudge toward the exit and the mobile lab outside in the parking lot.
“Stop it,” she grumbles. “There’s nothing more I can do.”
“Bullshit,” he tells her. “This mission isn’t over yet.”
She stands listlessly watching as Holden tinkers with the generator.
He wipes his hands with a rag. “So what’s the play here?” When she doesn’t answer his question, he turns up the volume. “Hey - I asked you what’s next!”
She barely has the energy to shrug. “Why don’t you lock me in there until I think of something? Or maybe I’ll just stay in there forever.”
“Quit with the drama, doc - it’s not a good look for you,” Holden says. This is a side of her he’s never seen before - not even when the blizzard trapped them for the winter.
He feels a twinge of concern. “If you gotta hole up for awhile, that’s okay - but you better come out with a game plan.”
The laboratory usually feels like a visit home - comfortable, familiar. Now it feels more like a stage set with no real purpose. Lisa wanders around randomly touching items, as if one of them might turn out to be a good luck talisman. She pauses in front of a large poster of a virus in garish colors, which she’s become so used to she doesn’t even see it any more. It jogs her memory - and the lab begins to feel real again. Her colleague, Jordan Rankin, stuck it up there, joking it was his pin-up girl. He’d been 53 when he died of Geezer in the first week of the pandemic.
Suddenly she feels overwhelmed. She slides to the floor and comes to rest in her favorite bad mood corner. When the tears start, she doesn’t try to stop them. For the first time, she fully mourns the loss of her parents, her grandparents - and even Roger, although she hopes he managed to make it to Maine. The world she’d grown up in, the world she’s known all her life, is dead and gone. But most of all, she cries for the loss of an answer that might have salvaged what remains of the human presence on the planet.
After her pity party is over, she mops up her flood of tears and blows her nose - but she can’t seem to get Jordan out of her mind. He was shy and mild mannered - the classic nerdy scientist. But when Jordan Rankin believed in a theory, he fought like a tiger to prove it.
She pushes her unruly hair behind her ears, still lost in thought. What would he do if denied the means to solve a problem? There are many paths to a solution, he’d say. When faced with multiple possibilities, the first step is to eliminate some of the less probable hypotheses.
Thank you, Jordan, she whispers, her eyes filling all over again. She takes a deep breath and holds it. Quit blubbering, she tells herself sternly. Be happy that you know what you’re going to do next.
When she emerges from the belly of The Whale, Holden is still loitering outside, with a wrench in his hand, pretending to work on the generator. “You all right?” he asks, in what he hopes is a casual tone.
Her appearance is alarming. She looks like she’s had a full breakdown in the last twenty minutes.
Lisa sees the look Holden’s face - and realizes how awful she must look. Make a joke of it, she thinks. “I’ve come up with a plan,” she says, “I’m going to run away and join the circus. I’ve already got the red fright wig, a pasty white face - and a lovely red nose! Circus - Clown - me - ta-da!”
Holden apparently doesn’t think she’s amusing. It’s amazing what he can convey by just wrinkling his brow.
“Well, you’re no fun,” she tells him, hands on hips.
“You’re no barrel of laughs, either,” he replies, but she could swear there’s a smile lurking in his hazel eyes.
“Then we deserve each other,” she says and is surprised to realize she really means it. “But I have decided on a course of action.”
“Don’t keep me in suspense.”
“I want to stay put in Hamlin for the foreseeable future.”
His eyes narrow. “Why?”
“Because there’s always a chance the St Clair woman will change her mind.” She holds up a hand before he can speak. “I know - that’s a long shot, but what do we have to lose? And this place itself might give me some answers. I want to do soil and water samples in all directions. Sometimes immunity can arise from a combination of factors.”
S
he sees Holden’s attitude change as he processes her explanation - and then he adds one more bit of evidence to support her new hypothesis.
“In all the drama since we got to Hamlin, I haven’t had a chance to tell you about another piece of the puzzle. On our way through town, George was staring out the window, and suddenly he says, There’s old Mr. Forrest’s grocery store. I asked him what was so important about the guy that he’d remember his name - he’d just told me his family had only moved here two weeks before Geezer hit.”
“And?” she asks breathlessly.
“George told me the old man was still alive when he left for Pennsylvania. The St Clair folks were trading with him - fresh eggs and milk for canned goods.”
“That makes senior survivor number three in the same place,” Lisa says exuberantly. “There’s no way we’re leaving now!”
Holden doesn’t argue the point. He’s amazed at how much better he feels now that the doctor is back to her usual hyper self.
LISA WIPES THE SWEAT from her forehead before she carefully fills a test tube with dirt using a teaspoon liberated from the cafeteria.
“So, I am thinking,” Janet ventures as Lisa hands her the small glass cylinder. “If we are staying put, it might be wise to be planting a small garden.”
“That sounds heavenly,” Lisa says, thinking of lettuce and tomatoes, squashes and onions. “Sadly, I can’t predict what’s going to happen next - but short of some emergency, we’re staying put until I collect all the data available.”
“Better start packing up now, doc,” Will Brady interrupts. “I got more sentry duty in an hour, and I need to grab some chow first.”
Lisa is irritated all over again by his presence. She’d wandered too far away from the school that one time. But after that, Holden had ordered one of the guys to escort every science expedition. She slides the last test tube into its rack in the sample case with quick, angry movements.
Brady clears his throat. “Hey, I know you think it’s dumb to babysit you - but that’s not it. Last winter was kinda like a long vacation. With all the snow we could pretty much count on nobody showing up. Now we’re smack in the middle of a whole town full of empty houses.”
Lisa snaps the sample case closed. “You’ve got a point, Will,” she says grudgingly. “All these empty buildings - sometimes it feels like the windows are watching me.”
“Ain’t that the truth!” he chortles.
After returning to the school, Lisa barely has time to wash her hands and grab a drink of water before the unexpected happens.
“Heads up,” Holden says, materializing out of thin air as usual. “Hatfield is here.”
“Is he - alone?”
Holden nods. “Don’t get your hopes up,” he cautions. “I’m guessing he’s here to find out why we haven’t left yet.”
“Where is he?”
“Just getting out of his pickup,” the corporal says. “The sooner we find out what he wants, the better.”
As the two of them step through the front doors, Holden says under his breath, “Let’s keep him outside this time.”
“Howdy,” Hatfield drawls. “You folks plannin’ on campin’ out here in Hamlin?”
“What’s it to you?” Holden asks. “Or do ya’ll own the town?”
“I’m gathering soil and water samples while I’m here,” Lisa interrupts hastily. “It could tell me something about why there have been three survivors within Geezer’s favored demographic who are native to this place.”
“Four,” Hatfield says provocatively.
Lisa bites the inside of her cheek. “Really?” she asks, hoping she sounds more composed than she feels. “Who’s the other one? If you don’t mind me asking.”
“He’s dead now - drank himself to death.”
“And how old was he?”
“Forty-two - maybe forty-three.”
Lisa stands waiting, damned if she’ll beg like a dog for another scrap. When he doesn’t volunteer further information, she says, “Well - thank you for letting me know.”
Then, because she can’t help herself she adds, “It would be interesting to pinpoint these survivors with the locations where they grew up so I can add to my soil/water sample data base.”
Hatfield laughs. “Nice try - but you ain’t ever gonna know where St Clair farm is located.”
Lisa feels her face grow hot. “Sorry - I was thinking of the man who died of alcoholism.”
“Hey!” Holden barks. “The doc could be hidin’ in some ivory tower university and spend her time in bullshit discussions about Geezer - instead she chose to hit the road with the Guard and live rough. All so she can search for a real cure.” He pauses to catch his breath. “So don’t give her shit!”
To Lisa’s surprise, Hatfield doesn’t laugh - or get angry - at Holden’s outburst. Instead he addresses himself directly to her. “You gotta be doin’ somethin’ right to inspire that kind of loyalty.”
He’s not kidding, as far as Lisa can see, and it flusters her. She hadn’t taken Holden’s words seriously - but if Hatfield does, what does that mean? She only knows she can’t think about that right now.
She shrugs. “So far I haven’t accomplished much. But you should know - I’m not giving up.”
“Good for you,” Hatfield says, and Lisa can’t tell if he’s being sarcastic or not. After a long pause, he adds, “Personally, I’m against the idea - but Nix has decided she wants to meet the ballsy lady doctor and hear her theories on Geezer.” He turns to Holden. “But there are conditions.”
CHAPTER 14: Failure To Communicate
It turns out there’s actually only one condition: Lisa must accompany Hatfield to an undisclosed location for the meeting with his wife. Before the man is finished speaking Holden interrupts him.
“You’re batshit crazy if you think she’s going anywhere without me,” he snarls.
One moment she’s on the verge of solving a mystery, the next that opportunity is in danger of vanishing. Lisa snatches at Holden’s arm. “I can make my own decisions. I don’t need you to—”
“Really?” Holden glares at her. “I been making most of the decisions for the past year or so. You shoulda spoke up sooner - I coulda used the rest!”
“Are you kidding?” Lisa snaps. “You live to control—”
The sound of Hatfield’s laughter stops them both. “I’d do the same myself,” he says to Holden. “Tell ya what - leave behind the peashooter you got in your pocket, and you can come along.”
He turns his attention to Lisa. “And you shouldn’t be so willin’ to go off with a stranger, doc. You’re damn lucky to have this guy handlin’ your security.”
With no idea where they’re going but eager to get there, Lisa sits on the bench seat of the old pickup truck between Cash Hatfield and Holden. She’s still a little angry about being rebuked like a child in front of Hatfield, but admits to herself that she feels a lot safer because Holden’s with her. The truck takes a bend in the road at the excessive speed Hatfield seems to prefer, and Holden slides into her. All sensation is instantly concentrated on the point of contact between his body and hers.
Holden jerks away as if he’s touched a hot stove. He turns to look out the side window so she can’t see his face. Calm down, pal, he thinks. You don’t want to walk into this situation with a hard on. Wouldn’t be professional.
A feeling of rejection almost overwhelms Lisa. This - this is the way he feels about her. Lisa sneaks a glance at Holden, but all she can see is his stoney profile staring straight ahead. His annoyance of a moment before is gone. He seems totally focused on looking for landmarks so he can find his way back again to wherever they’re going. And using this opportunity is what she should be doing, too. Noticing water sources. Or the type of trees that grow around here. Something, anything - instead of focusing on the one thing that is obviously never going to happen.
“Where are we headed?” Holden asks, breaking the silence. “You can tell us - because the way you handle this wr
eck, your secret’s gonna die with us.”
“Ya’ll are safe for now,” Hatfield, laughs as the truck suddenly slows. He jerks the wheel and makes a sharp turn into a gravel drive. Holden grabs the dash to keep from sliding toward Lisa again.
The corporal throws open the door, its hinges screeching, the minute the truck stops, and jumps out. “Jesus, Hatfield - if I knew where I was I’d walk back to Hamlin.”
“Yeah, right,” Hatfield says, coming around the front of the truck. “Like you haven’t noticed every twist and turn of the road. Won’t do ya no good. There’s nothing here.”
Lisa follows more cautiously, stepping down from the running board. She has an impression of barns and other outbuildings scattered around the dilapidated farmhouse, but her attention is drawn to a figure standing on the porch - a boy a little younger than George.
His hair is blonde, in stark contrast to his dark brows, which are drawn together like a thundercloud. He’s dressed like a Mennonite - but he cradles a rifle in his arms. The expression in his hard blue eyes is not that of a teenager but of someone much older. There’s a dissonance between how he should be and what he is she finds disturbing.
As they approach the steps leading to the porch, Hatfield says, “This here is Michael - George’s brother.”
“But don’t hold that against me,” the kid says in a husky voice.
“Michael’s the best shot I’ve ever come across,” Hatfield adds, looking pointedly at Holden.
The corporal nods. “Love to see you shoot sometime, man.”
Hatfield opens the back door and calls teasingly, “Honey, I’m home.”
Lisa takes a deep breath and follows him inside. Whatever she’s been expecting, it’s not the woman with short, dark hair who stands in the center of the kitchen. She’s classically beautiful - while clearly having little interest in her appearance. She’s dressed in bib overalls much too large for her and a well worn plaid jacket thrown over her shoulders. But far from looking like she’s rummaged through a ragbag, she imbues the haphazard outfit with an edgy style. When she turns to greet her husband, Lisa sees that, beneath the baggy clothes, the woman is very pregnant.
