by Penn Gates
“They want to meet up with the doctor first - alone,” he mumbles, looking down at the ground.
Holden jumps ahead of everyone else. “Abso-fucking-lutely not! Not gonna happen!”
For a millisecond, Lisa feels warm and fuzzy before reminding herself that Ed may see his mission as keeping her safe, but her own is to get to the CDC no matter what the risk.
“What exactly do they want to know?” Lisa interrupts, earning a dirty look from Ed.
“They want to hear ‘bout why a cure for Geezer is such a big deal when there ain’t no old folks left.”
“You know what I don’t like?” Holden growls. “They know where we are, but we still don’t have a fuckin’ clue about their location.”
“Holden’s got a point,” Cash says diplomatically. “We been real patient so far, but we can’t afford to wait no longer. The weather’s gonna turn soon and we gotta be makin’ tracks back where we come from.”
Lisa studies Joseph’s face. He’s not wearing his usual impassive expression. He looks ashamed - like he’s failed. She’s almost positive he’s telling the truth. And anyway, she has no choice.
“I’ll go, and explain myself.”
Holden’s instinct is to protect Lisa - even if she’s angry. And it’s not like she’s gonna decide not to leave if he keeps his mouth shut. “Not a good idea,” he says.
Lisa thinks fast. There’s no time to have an extended discussion about safety first. “Listen - I have a superpower. I can fix people. And that’s so rare these days that almost nobody would think of hurting me - just in case they need me to save them.”
“They may not hurt you,” Ed says, making a different point. “But that doesn’t mean they won’t try and keep you as their pet physician.”
Lisa bites her lip. “Everybody’s in danger - all the time,” she reminds him. “But I’m running out of options. I knew this mission would be high risk before we started - and so did you.”
CHAPTER 37: Kick The Doctor Down The Road
“How does it feel to cut somebody open?” Joseph asks.
A tiny prickle of fear teases the back of Lisa’s neck. The two of them are several miles from the base camp, and she’s alone with this fierce-looking kid who hasn’t said a word to her until now. Budding serial killers are probably good at passing for normal in rural areas - killing small animals can be passed off as hunting.
Just then Joseph reaches past her and breaks a twig on a small tree.
“What are you doing?”
“Leavin’ markers so that soldier can track us.”
“What!” Lisa cries. “Won’t that be a huge problem if these friends of yours find out?”
Joseph just looks at her, and for a second, his impenetrable dark eyes remind her of Cindi Lou. Suddenly she’s glad Ed is somewhere nearby.
“Don’t worry,” he says. “These guys aren’t like a gang or anything. They’re just as nervous about you as you are about them.”
Lisa relaxes slightly because that makes sense. It’s not like they’re going to see a savage band of children - like in that book. What was that book? Lord of the Flies - that’s it. She feels a flutter of panic. How is it possible I couldn’t remember the title of a book I’ve read? What if I do have brain damage? I have my research notes, but what if I can’t do the work any more?
Joseph interrupts her crisis of confidence. “Even when I was a little kid, I used to pretend I was a doctor.” He sounds as if he’s talking about a lifetime ago.
He says it with the absolute conviction that he’s not a kid any more - and maybe he isn’t, Lisa thinks. In the world after Geezer, it’s grow up quick or die.
His voice is suspiciously thick as he tells her, “Daddy gave me a a toy stethoscope for my sixth birthday. And Mamma let me use her old purse for a doctor’s bag.” He looks embarrassed. “I had bandaids in there and an old rag for a sling - popsicle sticks for tongue depressors.”
He suddenly stops talking. Maybe he thinks she’ll laugh at him for being childish.
“Sounds a lot like me when I was a child,” she says. “Hardly anyone knows what they want to be when they grow up - but you’d be surprised how many doctors have told me they decided to become healers before they were out of grade school.”
“I treated every little critter I could catch - didn’t matter if they were hurt or not,” Joseph laughs. “But every once in awhile, I actually saved one.”
“To answer your question from before,” Lisa says, “Medical students begin by working on cadavers.”
“Dead bodies? That must be it’s own kinda hard,” Joseph mumbles, looking anywhere but at her. “I’ll tell you a secret - I hate it when we butcher a hog.”
“A squeamish stomach is definitely a liability in the medical profession.”
She sees his face fall. Has she discouraged his ambition without meaning to? Just what ambition would that be? To go to medical school? Is there even such a thing any more?
Aloud, she says, “When you’re first working on those cadavers you tell yourself over and over you won’t vomit. In my group, a guy actually fainted. But almost everybody overcomes it once they begin to explore the wonders of the human body. And, of course, unlike hog butchering, you had no hand in taking that life.”
Joseph breaks another twig on a low hanging branch and changes the subject. “These guys we’re going to see—”
“The traders,” Lisa murmurs.
“Yeah, the traders. Listen - these folks like to keep their dealin’s secret. That might go for any group they trade with.”
“I’m not asking for a piece of their territory,” Lisa says in exasperation. “I just need a little help to keep the world safe from another Geezer plague. Who wouldn’t want to be part of that?”
“I can’t answer for nobody else, ma’am.” Joseph shrugs. “Once you’re face to face, it’s up to you to do the convincin’.”
“And if I do, it only gets me through door number one,” Lisa groans. “Then there’ll be another group. How do I know this game of kick-the-doctor-down-the-road won’t go on forever?”
“You don’t,” Joseph says. “You do what you can - and that’s all you can do.”
He seems to realize that they’ve been wasting time and begins walking faster. Lisa hurries after him. Her feet are heavy with the accumulated mud she’s picked up slogging through the flooded woods. Joseph holds back a branch for her, and she’s surprised to step onto a paved road. Her heart sinks. How will Ed know whether they’ve gone to the left or the right?
The boy drops his backpack on the gravel shoulder and fumbles in it. Linda watches, fascinated, as he hands her an old plastic pop bottle full of water while with his other hand he squeezes a small squirt bottle. A small dot of yellow paint appears on the pavement, then another.
“You done with that?” he asks. “We still got a ways to go.”
They trudge along the side of the road for awhile - until Joseph stops so suddenly Lisa almost runs into him. “We’re here,” he announces.
Lisa stares at the dilapidated house sitting in the middle of what looks like a junk yard. There are rusted cars everywhere. She spies a washing machine with a wringer mechanism so old it has a hand crank. Beyond the debris-strewn front yard, a high stockade fence runs from both corners of the house, obscuring anything to the side or behind the place.
“This can’t be it,” Lisa protests. “The place looks abandoned.”
Joseph ignores her comment. “Put your feet in the same spot I put mine - the wood’s so rotten on these steps you’ll go clean through if you make the wrong move.”
Even in the cool air, Lisa can detect a heavy odor beneath the scent of the piney woods. It’s a musty, mildew-y smell. She glances to one side and discovers an upholstered couch hunkered down on the porch. It’s sodden from the rain - and obviously not for the first time.
“That there’s real hillbilly porch furniture,” Joseph smirks.
He raps on the door, pauses, and raps twice again.
Without waiting for a response, he opens the door and steps inside.
Lisa shudders as she follows him, expecting the worst, and then exclaims in surprise at what she sees in front of her. Far from being littered with trash and broken furniture, the interior is neat and clean - if a little on the shabby side.
“Surprise!” Joseph says loudly, and for the first time today Lisa can see the teenager behind the impassive face.
“That’s for sure,” she smiles back. “The outside is great camouflage.”
They stand grinning at each other, but the friendly moment is interrupted by a voice from the other side of the room.
“Injun Joe - got to wonderin’ if you were ever comin’ back.”
The speaker is of average height and build, with faded blue eyes and hair of a color so unremarkable it’s not worth describing. He’s one of those people whose features are nondescript - the kind that are hard to remember once they’re out of sight. But not this guy - because his presence somehow seems to fill the room.
Lisa wonders how old he is - not much older than her guide probably - but he has an aura of maturity that makes him seem much older. Just how welcoming would he be if she’d shown up with Ed or Cash, instead of Injun Joe?
Before Joseph can respond, the young man steps forward and holds out his hand to Lisa. “Name’s Wade Tucker. Joe’s got me a tad curious about what ya’ll been up to since Geezer.”
“I’m Dr. Lisa Terrell. I appreciate the chance to explain what I’m trying to do.”
“Hey Joe,” Tucker says. “Why don’t you go on back and visit with the boys? They got some barbecue on the grill. I’ll bring Doc Terrell along when we finish talkin’.”
Half an hour later, Wade leans his head against the back of the sofa and stares at a crack in the ceiling as if looking for inspiration.
Or a way to blow me off politely, Lisa thinks. He’s not convinced - and maybe that’s my fault. I’ve laid these facts out so many times, my explanation probably sounds pre-recorded by now.
“If you have any questions—” She flushes. “I know sometimes I get lost in technical terms and I come off sounding like I’m describing a lab experiment. But I truly believe getting my research to the CDC could guarantee that people in their twenties make it past their mid-thirties.”
“Well,” Wade drawls. “I gotta say your take on the Geezer virus is creepy-scary, doc. So, it’s not like I don’t wanna help, but - it’s almost impossible to move around Atlanta these days.”
“Is it really still that violent?” Lisa asks, dreading his answer.
Wade shakes his head. “Not like you mean. The military cracked down on the rioters and looters soon enough. Corralled ‘em all in - uh - camps, they call ‘em.”
There’s that word again, Lisa thinks. Camps. She remembers arguing with Ed the first time they’d heard the term applied to refugee centers. For her, the thing that came to mind had not been paddling canoes and making moccasins.
“Still - what else could they do with violent offenders?” she asks, thinking out loud. “I saw them in action myself in Pittsburgh.”
When Wade doesn’t respond, she adds, “But the authorities also opened temporary centers for disaster victims so they had hot food, a hot shower, and a warm place to sleep.”
“I don’t know about Pittsburgh,” Wade mutters. “But in Atlanta, the army runs everything now. Those disaster victims are still gettin’ fed and a bed - but now they call ‘em comfort centers. And folks pay for their comfort by workin’ for free.”
“Oh—” is all Lisa can think of to say. It doesn’t sound that bad for a roof over your head and security.
He sees her uncertainty. “Hey - I’m not talkin’ about workin’ for room and board. This here is slave labor. They make ‘em put in ten hour days, seven days a week.” Wade pauses for a beat and then adds, “Oh yeah - did I mention nobody’s allowed to leave?”
“The whole operation kinda discourages folks from goin’ into the city,” Wade says finally, “Nobody wants to end up in a comfort center.” He stares up at the crack again before he admits, “We know guys who were born and raised there - some of the smart ones who got out early days, when things were outta control. They still have a lot of connections inside Atlanta - if that’s what you want to know.”
“Do you think they’ll help me to get to the CDC?” Lisa asks hopefully.
Wade seems to make his mind up about something. “It’s hard tellin’, to be honest. The outfit is run by a guy who had some kind of religious experience right in the middle of the Geezer meltdown.” He laughs. “The guy’s name is Boz - or maybe Moz.”
“He sounds - spiritual,” Lisa comments. “Won’t he be likely to want to help save lives?”
Wade shrugs. “Some of these religious kooks are lookin’ forward to the end times. He might just see you as the anti-Christ. Who knows?”
“That’s not reassuring,” Lisa says weakly.
She has the feeling there’s something Wade isn’t telling her, but she’s not in a position to insist on more information.
Wade slaps his knees and stands up. “Let me think on it for awhile. In the meantime, come outside and meet my guys.”
Lisa picks up the medical bag she’s brought along. “While I’m here - does anybody need a doctor?” she asks brightly.
Wade laughs. “Depends on who’s doin’ the barbecuin’.”
Lisa can already tell she doesn’t want proximity to whatever they’ve got on the grill, and if she steps outside they’ll invite her to eat with them. But she doesn’t see that she has a choice. Breaking bread with a guest is an age-old act of bonding - that, and any first aid she can provide, is quite possibly her best chance of gaining the cooperation of Wade and his gang.
She struggles to eat the unidentified chunk of blackened meat on her plate and the mess of overcooked greens next to it - and to smile with appreciation as she does. All the boys are friendly. All of them want a chance to talk with her. Some do have medical questions.
It grows dark and Lisa’s apprehension grows with it. What if Ed decides to crash this party? She’s so close to winning these guys over. She can feel it.
Finally, Wade takes her aside. “I’ll do it,” he says. “I’ll take you to meet the Atlanta crew - but I won’t risk any of my men.”
“That’s wonderful, Wade,” Lisa tells him. “I’m so grateful.”
“The truth of that remains to be seen,” Wade mutters as he shakes her hand.
LISA STUMBLES THROUGH the dark woods, trying to keep up with Joseph. She keeps waiting for Ed to join them, but if he’s still out there he wants to remain invisible. Things are suddenly moving fast. Wade wants to take her to meet the Atlanta crew tomorrow. This is what she’s prayed for, but twenty-four hours from now she could be on her way into a city which is under martial law. That reality doesn’t help a stomach still struggling with a meal she’d rather forget.
When Lisa and Joseph reach the Sanderson farm, the boy says, “You got to be froze to the bone. Come inside and get a warm drink ‘fore I take you the rest of the way.”
Lisa thinks of the apple jack enjoyed by Cash and Holden - maybe it might even calm her down a bit. Then she remembers her first, and epic, hangover. Tomorrow is too important. Sighing, she says, “If you don’t mind, Joseph, I really want to get back to camp. It’s been a long day and I’m pretty tired.”
At the tree line overlooking the barren field, Lisa pauses. By the campfire’s warm glow, she sees the ridiculous VW, still looking like a misshapen vehicular monster with its lashings of gas cans.
“Come on, then,” Joseph says. “Let’s get you the rest of the way.”
“I’ll be fine,” Lisa assures him. “I think I can walk across an open field by myself and not get lost.” She pats the boy’s arm. “Thank you so much for all your help. I don’t know what we would have done without it.”
“It was an honor, ma’am,” he mumbles. “But jest don’t count your chickens until you talk to them fellas from
Atlanta. They ain’t said yes to nothin’ yet.”
After Joseph leaves, she remains standing in the dark. Once she moves from this spot, she’ll be walking toward an unknown future. She mourns all the possibilities she leaves behind with an intensity she never had for the loss of her life in Pittsburgh, or even Boston.
“Having second thoughts?”
She whirls around at the sound of Ed’s voice. There’s no need to answer in words. They reach for each other at the same time, their need blotting out time, place, or danger.
Finally, he pulls away. “I need to make love to you - to hold you in my arms while you sleep one more time.” He grabs her hand and tugs her across the field and toward the sleeping bag they shared last night.
They make love desperately, as if it’s oxygen. Afterwards, as they lie in each other’s arms, Ed kisses her face and tastes the salt of her tears.
“Don’t cry, baby,” he says, kissing away her tears. “Just pretend this - right now - is gonna go on forever.”
“I can’t stop thinking about all the time we wasted when we could nave been together,” she whispers.
“It wasn’t wasted,” he says fiercely. “Do I wish we’d done this a long time ago? Hell, yes - but you and me - we’ve thought our way - and fought our way - through six kinds of hell together.”
At that moment, the moon comes from behind a cloud and she sees the look in his eyes as he says, “Tell you the truth, I don’t know how the hell I’m gonna go on without you.”
“Ed - I’m not going to say I’ll never forget you because - because that would be like putting you in the past.” She reaches up and touches the spot between his brows - the place where he shows his vulnerability. “I’ll never stop missing you - because somehow you’ve become part of me. And I’ll never be complete again without you.”
There are no more words needed. They lie in each others arms, experiencing their last moments together to the fullest, knowing it will have to last for a lifetime.
