The Geezer Quest: World After Geezer: Year Two

by Penn Gates

  Holden has only seen this guy from a distance. Up close, the guy is huge. Which is odd - because his identical twin, while a big guy, doesn’t seem larger than life.

  “Now - tell me how I can help,” Moz urges.

  “I don’t know,” Holden admits. “I’m not sure what the hell I’m doing. I just know I gotta be here in case Lisa - the doctor - needs a hand.”

  “My brother Aaron is obsessed with the prize he believes is his. But I am not the only one in this camp who wishes the doctor well in her attempt to banish Geezer from the earth.” He chuckles. “Aaron thinks I do not know the manner of rescue when one of his men is in trouble down in the city - but they tell me everything.”

  “Tell me,” Holden says, feeling a surge of hope.

  “ANYTHING?” HOLDEN ASKS the black kid covered in animal pelts.

  “Sorry, dude, nothin’ again today,” Rabbit-skins says, shaking his head. The coonskin hat seems to wag its tail in agreement.

  “Shit!” Holden mutters under his breath.

  “Can I be askin’ you a question?”

  Play nice, Holden tells himself. This guy is putting himself in harm’s way every other day to check for a God damn bag tied to a fence. You owe him, big time.

  Aloud, he says, “Shoot.”

  “That doctor lady - she wanted to get into Atlanta - right?”

  Holden nods.

  “So why you so all-fire sure she gonna turn around and wanna get out?”

  “To be honest - I’m not. I’m only sure I want her to come back.”

  “Ha - so that be it.”

  Holden is about to laugh it off, when he says instead. “The thing that worries me most is how the military is running things at the CDC.”

  “They runnin’ things everywhere, man.”

  “See - I know her. If they try to make her do something she doesn’t think is right, she’ll refuse. And that would be dangerous for her health.”

  “Them soldier boys is a crazy-ass bunch. Can never tell what they gonna think up next - but one thing’s for sure. They don’t take no for an answer.”

  CHAPTER 42: The Risk Factor

  Lisa gazes past Gary Lloyd, sitting at the other end of the dinner table. Beyond the huge window behind him there’s nothing but black - and her own pale reflection floating in the darkness. A month ago, she’d been standing on the other side of that darkness, looking up at the brightly lit CDC - maybe at these very windows.

  She watches her reflection massage its neck. I look like a ghost, she thinks. An exhausted ghost. If only I was. I could walk through walls, become invisible at will. And if I was invisible, then they couldn’t watch my every move. She hates being ordered around by the military a little more each day, fearful what they might try to force her to do in the future.

  She misses Holden more that she would have believed possible. Unlike this leering idiot across the table, Ed had not taken advantage of her vulnerability, but protected her. Her longing for him is a constant, throbbing ache.

  “Would you like some wine?” Gary asks. “It might relax you.”

  She looks at him with distaste. Gary demands that she dine with him every night to give a progress report, which he will then pass on to the General. Lisa knows he’s lying because she is required to give Darwin a daily report. Once, her former colleague had been merely an annoyance, but now he’s a threat.

  When she’d asked Darwin if he could do something about Gary’s barely disguised advances, he’d just smirked. “I might be able to put the brakes on him - if only you, dear doctor, could move a little faster on the research.”

  Lisa puts her hand over the top of her empty wine glass. “Thanks - but I better not. I want to get an early start in the morning.”

  “Oh surely not.” Gary protests, his eyes undressing her. “Since you’ve been here, you’ve performed miracles. Your team can do without you for one morning.”

  “Not tomorrow they can’t,” Lisa says, trying to project confidence. “We’ll have the results of our final trial - and General Darwin is watching with interest.”

  “If you must be there - well then, you must,” Gary says, feigning indifference - although Lisa sees his eyes widen at the mention of Darwin.

  “But we’ll dine again tomorrow night.” He looks at her meaningfully, and he no longer seems like a buffoon, but a man who won’t take no for an answer. “Plan to take the next morning off, dear Lisa - to sleep in.”

  Lisa’s stomach lurches. I’d rather die, she thinks savagely. But aloud she only says, “Of course. Now - if you’ll excuse me, Gary - I’m so tired I can’t see straight.”

  On the way back to her room, accompanied by an ever-present guard, Lisa considers her options. She’s procrastinated as much as she’s dared. She’s running out of time. But that grinning ape is not going to take no for an answer tomorrow evening. She has to get out of here tonight. She groans and clutches at her stomach. She doesn’t have to try very hard to be convincing. The dinner tonight was too heavy, too rich, and the thought of Gary touching her with those clammy hands of his—

  “What’s wrong, ma’am?” the young guard asks in alarm.

  “I’m having terrible stomach pains,” she tells him, and suddenly she isn’t pretending at all. Her gut is roiling with nerves. She’s about to take a big chance - maybe her last chance for freedom - and she’s scared to death.

  “Do you think - I mean, I would be so grateful if we could just make a quick stop at the clinic so I can grab something for my indigestion - or whatever it is.” She looks pleadingly at him. “I cannot afford to be sick tomorrow. Big day at the lab - we’re doing a trial run of the vaccine.”

  The guard’s round face brightens. “That’s great.” But he shuffles his feet indecisively.

  Lisa sags against a wall, hoping that she’s not overacting.

  “All right,” he says.“Why not?”

  “Oh thank you,” Lisa says weakly. “I’ll be as quick as I can.”

  A half hour later, she paces back and forth in her small, windowless bedroom. She glances at the small digital alarm clock next to the single bed. She has no clear idea when - or if - this place ever sleeps. But it stands to reason that if the corridors are going to be deserted, it will be sometime between two and three.

  Of course, the young guard will still be standing outside the door - like I’m some dangerous enemy of the state, she thinks. Who issued the order? Darwin or Lloyd? It’s got to be Gary. Given his exalted position these days, he no longer needs to stalk me himself. He has people for that. But what if it’s Darwin? He’ll have the whole army after me.

  She wanders over to the small, utilitarian formica desk built into an alcove and opens its one drawer. Pushing aside a piece of paper, she looks down at the capped syringe she pilfered from the clinic. It’s full of a strong sedative - the kind she’d used to knock out Cindi Lou. The only problem is that it’s like having a gun with a single bullet. Shoot at the wrong time - or miss the target - and she’ll waste her one advantage. She covers the syringe with the paper and slides the drawer closed again.

  Lisa pulls her backpack from the small closet. While she was at it, she swiped as many bottles of antibiotics as she could hide in the white lab coat she was still wearing. Outside of vaccines, antibiotics are the holy grail. Doctors can only do so much against infections. St Clair farm and Hamlin should be all right for a little while - assuming she can somehow find her way back north.

  Assuming she can get out of here at all. She hasn’t had an opportunity to check out the exit door that once upon a time had a short-circuited alarm. She can’t even go alone to the women’s restroom on a bathroom break.

  After changing into the well worn jeans and sweatshirt she arrived in, she tucks her hair under the old knit cap. Rigid with tension, Lisa turns out the light and hides under a blanket. It’s impossible to guess what or who is making the far off noises on the outer edge of her hearing.

  Her mind scurries around like a trapped mouse, trying to com
e up with a crumb of a plan once she’s out of here - if she gets out. Walk away as fast as possible. Stick to the shadows. If you hear alarms go off, find a spot to hide. But even if you make it to the storage facility - and that’s a big if - Aaron must have been furious when Cash returned without the ring.

  Hatfield had insisted she keep it, just in case. As it turns out, she won’t need it to get out of the building, but there’s still a lot of miles between here and Moz’s camp. And once she gets there - if she gets there - what happens then? The thought is like a scream inside her head, and she presses her lips together to keep it there.

  Her fear threatens to overwhelm her. She reminds herself that escaping isn’t just about fleeing from the looming threat of Gary Lloyd. Darwin is already forcing her to produce something he’ll use as a threat against thousands of others. What might he demand next?

  If she succeeds, she’s that much closer to finding her way back to Hamlin - and Ed. The thought of him pushes everything else out of her head. I will get back to Ed - or die trying.

  She concentrates on the distant noises. At what seems to Lisa a glacial pace, the place grows quieter. Finally, about 2 AM, she dares to crack the door open and take a peek. The soldier on duty outside is no more than a few inches from her. She holds her breath and studies him. His head keeps nodding toward his chest - amazingly, he’s managed to fall asleep standing up. Forgive me, private, she thinks, as she jabs the needle into his neck with precision.

  “Wha—” he slurs before his knees buckle. Lisa catches him and guides his limp body into a sitting position against the wall. After a moment of hesitation, she takes his sidearm. She’s leaping into the unknown, but a weapon will increase her chances of survival.

  She sprints down the hall, then stops and reluctantly retraces her steps. The boy looks asleep - and she can guess what the Army of Atlanta will do to a sentry who falls asleep at his post. She finds the used syringe and tucks it behind his inert body. It won’t be seen immediately - buying her extra seconds she might need. But they will see it when they haul him to his feet - and at least he won’t be shot for dereliction of duty.

  She races to the stairway exit and forces herself to creep down the emergency stairs. At last she exits the stairwell on the floor where the labs are located and presses herself flat against the wall as she works her way toward the emergency exit sign glowing like a beacon.

  She reaches for the bar, then withdraws her hand. What if the army has gone over this building inch by inch? What if the alarm is back in working order? What then? She shrugs. I have no choice. I can’t go back. So I must go forward. She pushes the bar and the door opens. Nothing. She begins to relax - and then tenses again. What if they’ve installed a silent alarm? A guard in a control room somewhere could be picking up a two-way radio right now. In a minute - maybe less - armed guards will be running down the hall straight at me.

  Lisa slips through the door and lets it close. She finds herself on a metal fire escape with stairs leading to the ground. It worked, she thinks giddily. Oh my God, I’m actually outside! But she realizes immediately that she has another worry - the full moon has risen. It’s so bright she could read by its light - if she had anything to read. Like a map, for instance. But all she has is the memory of the primitive sketch Andy Bono had made while explaining where she had to get to before she could send an SOS with a grocery bag.

  Look at the bright side, she tells herself, if the moonlight makes me visible, I can easily see if there’s someone below the fire escape. She moves quickly to scan the area, but as soon as she looks down, vertigo kicks in. She clings to the railing and forces herself to look for signs of movement. There are none. She decides to risk waiting until the scudding clouds obscure the moon before descending. She spends a minute giving herself a choice: Would you rather risk falling? Or risk getting caught?

  As soon as the moon darts behind a cloud, Lisa grabs the cold iron of the stair railing and descends as fast as she can. She’s horrified to see that at the end of the metal stairs she is still several feet higher from the ground than she cares to be. She lowers herself as far as she can and then lets go. She hits the ground, somehow managing to land on her feet.

  After one quick look around, she dashes toward the loading docks. The row of dumpsters is neatly lined up against the block wall, exactly as she remembered and she dives behind them. Her ragged breath sounds like a steam locomotive in the long, tunnel-like space. Lisa shuts her mouth and holds her breath for a few seconds before she begins to breathe again - slowly and through her nose.

  She’s suddenly drained of energy after the intense surge of adrenaline that propelled her forward into the unknown. The brilliant moonlight returns and penetrates the gap between the concrete wall and the dumpsters, each of which seems to be roughly the size of Ed’s VW. The long space looks like some surreal hallway in a nightmare, lit by one impossibly long fluorescent tube.

  Part of her wants to keep crawling down that narrow corridor, as far away from the opening - and discovery - as she can get. But the logical part of her mind tells her it might turn out to be more trap than hiding place.

  CHAPTER 43: Cold Storage

  Lisa crawls from behind the dumpsters and freezes. Bunny rabbit behavior, she reminds herself. The smell of fear attracts predators like a scream. She stands and peeks around the corner of the building. No one in sight. She ducks around it and presses herself against the brick wall. She edges along until she comes to another corner, which is at an intersection - the intersection. She must find the courage to cross that expanse of concrete in one mad dash.

  Keep your eye on the other side, she urges herself. Run like you want to score a touchdown in one of those stupid Super Bowl games that had so enthralled Roger. Miraculously, the area stays deserted for the precious seconds it takes to make the crossing. She slips into the first alley she sees to catch her breath.

  It occurs to her that the blocks of stores all have access behind them for unloading merchandise or supplies. She can use those back alleys, which run parallel to Andy’s street. That should increase her chances by 50%. For some reason, an image of Margaret pops into her head, like it’s urging her to do one last thing.

  She closes her eyes and bows her head. “Please help me, God,” she whispers, feeling - not exactly foolish - more like someone who has no idea what they’re doing. “I’m sorry,” she adds, “But I need more than help. I think I need a miracle.”

  With that, Lisa stumbles through the darkness, trying to avoid obstacles and the trash that litters the cracked pavement. A white plastic grocery bag drifts past her feet like the ghost of a tumbleweed. It’s the sign that Moz warned me about - the sign I need! she thinks, stooping to pick it up.

  Every once in awhile she forces herself to dart up a side street and look north. If she misses the storage units, she’s done for. It’s surreal that she must sneak through one of the great American cities. It might as well be occupied by a foreign power. And just when did she become an enemy of the state?

  After awhile, she notices a faint glow to the east. With that bit of light she’s able to spot the silhouettes of rows of low buildings behind a high, chain link fence. She creeps through the gate, which stands wide open, and walks between two rows of what look like very long garages. Some of the overhead metal doors have been pried open and the contents of the units strewn haphazardly. Her heart sinks when she arrives in front of the last unit. There are odds and ends of junk scattered in front of it, too. Then she notices that only one corner of the door has been bent up - just enough for someone to crawl through.

  Before she loses her nerve, she steps away from the cover of the building and ties her precious plastic bag high on the cyclone fence next to another gate. It’s getting lighter by the minute, and she scurries back to the unit and wriggles through the open corner, after shoving her backpack in ahead of herself.

  Looming shapes form a maze she must navigate in the dark. In the far corner, Lisa conceals herself behind what feels
like a large dresser. She sits down with her back against the corrugated steel wall. For the moment she’s well hidden, if not completely safe. Every muscle in her body aches, but the numbness of exhaustion trumps even that. She needs to rest if she’s going to survive whatever comes next. Her head nods forward.

  Lisa opens her eyes. Something woke her - but what? She holds her breath, listening. Another sound, like the scuffling of shoes on pavement. There’s the hollow sound a piece of thin metal makes when it’s touched. Her body is flooded with adrenaline. She forces herself to resist the panic that urges her to flee. There’s nowhere to go. Again the image of a rabbit reminds her of what happens to a helpless thing which relies on making itself invisible.

  She peeks around the dresser. A pencil thin line of light under the door leads to the larger patch of light where the metal’s been turned up like the corner of a sardine can. A flicker of movement and then the hole is filled with a dark form. Lisa begins to crawl on her hands and knees back through the maze, feeling to the sides of the narrow path for anything that could be used to defend herself. She doesn’t want to fire her weapon unless she absolutely has to. A gunshot will attract the military like nothing else.

  Her hand touches something round and smooth - she thinks it might be an old-fashioned wooden baseball bat. As the form pushes itself through the open corner, she grips the bat with both hands. At the last second she realizes that the head of the intruder is covered in fur and the fur-covered head has a tail. She jerks the bat sideways, but not quite fast enough.

  “Ow!” the figure yelps. “Whadja do that for, doc? I’m here to help ya.”

  It’s Daniel Boone, she thinks giddily. Or Davy Crockett. She feels hysterical laughter bubbling just below the surface. Get a grip! Get a grip! He said he’s here to help. Pay attention.

  “I - I’m sorry,” she whispers. “Thank God I recognized your coonskin cap or I might have brained you.”