The Indiana Apocalypse Series

by E A Lake

  Morgan smiled and approached rapidly. I flinched. “Except for the part where we have to go cross country. We have to find as many corn fields and woodlots as we can to sneak through. We can’t take the roads, remember? Too dangerous.”

  Yeah, that would slow us down some. Most likely we would probably never make it 15 miles in complete darkness.

  A second plan began to race through my scattered mind. “What if I just sneak off alone. I can make it to Pimento and round up some people and hustle back here. You know, pitch forks and flaming torches.”

  Morgan smirked at Sara. “What’s your wife’s name, Quinn?”

  “Pardon. I don’t see what that has to do with —”

  “Sara mentioned it the other day,” Morgan interrupted. “She wasn’t supposed to, but she did. What’s her name?”

  I held my hands up in surrender. “I don’t recall, Morgan. Maybe it was Shelly.”

  Morgan grinned and nodded at the others. Ha, my memory might have been coming back.

  “Not bad,” Morgan quipped. “You remembered something.”

  She came near me again and leaned close to my right ear.

  “Of course, that’s Two’s name, not your wife’s,” she whispered. “So how the hell do you expect to remember our stories? Without them, people aren’t gonna do an uprising against a powerful man like Tony Shaklin.” Finally, as expected, she snapped my right ear lobe. Damn that hurt.

  “Doesn’t he ever leave the farm?” I asked, hoping for a new angle to formulate.

  “He does,” Sara replied. “But One and Three never leave with him. And that’s the problem. When Shaklin’s gone, those two show up at the oddest times. That’s how you know he’s not around, even when you haven’t been told.”

  “And there’s too many of them for us to fight,” I stated. “Right?” Sasha went at a new piece of nail skin, glancing at me.

  “There’s 16 hired men,” Morgan replied. “While they aren’t allowed to be anywhere near us when we’re in our cabins, they watch us like hawks going back and forth to the big house. Daily counts and all that stuff. One of these days, they’ll show up here with one of our guards and check the place out as well. There ain’t no sneaking off when you’re being watched that close.”

  Three or four good ideas had been doused with a full bucket of cold reality. I wasn’t sure what to think anymore. I could get away, but they couldn’t.

  “And there’s another problem,” Sasha said, nervously eyeing me. “We’re supposed to take Charolette with us. The rest say they can stand whatever punishment Shaklin might dish out when we run. But poor Charolette couldn’t. She has to come.”

  I glanced at Morgan as she stood against the wall near one of the rear windows. “How’s her foot healing? You were just there this afternoon.”

  “It’s bad,” Morgan replied with a frown. “She’s still in bed with it elevated. It might be another week, maybe two before she could even be on it again.”

  That was that then. Little Charolette would have to be carried. By me, of course. Our plans began to take on the same odor that we smelled whenever the wind blew from the north, the location of Shaklin’s sizable pig and cattle herds: like shit.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  As warned two days later, one of the guards, Pauly I think, knocked on the door. Morgan was still being allowed to hide her ugly injuries from the gentile wives at the big house, so she answered the door.

  “Bug check in about an hour, dearie,” the man said while shaking his head. “I wish I could have given you more warning, but they just told me.”

  Morgan sent him away and began stewing about finding me a hiding spot. I had a simple solution for her problem.

  “I’ll just hide under one of the beds,” I said casually. “No big deal.”

  Morgan’s expression told me I still had a lot to learn about their imprisonment.

  “They check everywhere,” Morgan replied, hustling to the bedroom. “But…”

  She turned and headed for her bedroom. Cautiously, I followed. The last time I had been in there was the morning I’d received more than an eyeful of her and Sasha.

  “They’re not allowed to touch our personal effects,” Morgan said, pulling an armload of something from the corner. When she faced me, I noticed they were clothes. “Wash day isn’t for a few days. We’ll just make a big pile in the corner of Sara and Livy’s room. They know not to touch them. If Pauly sees them pawing through our underwear, he’ll tell Shaklin.” She grinned, holding up two pairs of dirty underwear. “There’ll be hell to pay if they even give it more than a glance.”

  My salvation was being buried alive under their dirty garments. Not my first choice, of that I was sure. But given the alternative of being discovered — and killed — it was my only choice.

  I stepped beside Morgan, failing to hide my displeasure. “You really think this will work?”

  She chuckled and patted my chest softly. “You got a better plan? If you do, I’m all ears.”

  No, I didn’t. Not a single thought came to my mind.

  “We got a while yet,” she continued. “Let’s have you lay down on the floor and I’ll pile all I can find on you. I’ll see how it looks.”

  I did as requested, but accidentally plopped onto my left side, the injured side. It hurt like hell. I switched sides as Morgan dropped several articles of clothing on my face. I noticed they were panties and bras.

  “Don’t worry,” she joked. “They’re Sara’s, not mine, and they’re clean. I’ll put mine somewhere else.”

  I didn’t like the tone of her voice, but let her continue with her game. When she had me sufficiently covered, I felt her kick at the pile and my ribs.

  “Looks fine. We’ll just move it to the corner on the back side of the bed,” she said, pulling clothes off of me. She helped me sit up and studied my left side. “Dang it, you’re bleeding. I need to change that dressing before they get here. Come on.”

  As she led me back to the kitchen, I noticed her grin when she turned and peeked at me.

  “Yes?” I asked. She was up to something.

  “I lied,” she giggled. “Those were mine. And they were dirty.”

  I’d figured as much. Morgan, if nothing else, was a true rascal.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SEVEN

  From my hiding spot I heard the two men’s boot steps as they entered the dwelling. Pauly walked like a normal human being and only made a small noise. The other fellow must have been raised by animals. His steps were loud and clunky.

  “Pauly,” the man whined. “You ain’t gotta follow me around like some little kid. I know how to look for bugs. I did just fine in the first place.”

  “You know Mr. Shaklin’s rules,” the voice I recognized as Pauly’s replied. He had a slightly deeper voice than the other man. “I have to stay with you at all times. Keep the women safe.”

  I heard the footsteps stop, still in the other room hopefully. “Good God, woman. You look like something I used to see after closing time in the bars back in Indy. I guess Jimmy didn’t miss you as much as he thought he did.”

  “Jimmy kicks like an old woman, Kevin,” Morgan recanted. “I just bruise easily.”

  I heard Kevin, or perhaps Pauly, snort. “I guess there ain’t no one that’s gonna want to kiss you for a while.” The laughter had come from Kevin. “Not that anyone has been hustling to kiss you yet. Not with that mouth of yours always going on and on.”

  “No one wants to get involved with us slaves,” Morgan chastised. “Wouldn’t want to stoop that low.”

  I heard her harasser laugh. “Hell, we’re all slaves here, Morgan. I know you ladies always think you’re the only ones. But the rest of us aren’t hardly treated any better. We can’t go wandering off, just like you can’t. We ain’t allowed to do whatever we want, just like you’re not able to. Hell, we’re worse off in some ways. We don’t get to pick our meals like you do. We have to work outside every single day, rain or shine, heat or cold. The way I see it, you got
it a lot better than the men. At least Shaklin sends down guys with umbrellas for you if it’s raining. Us? We get our asses kicked outside no matter what. Sometimes we wear wet clothes for days. Whether you want to realize it or not, we’re all slaves here.”

  “Yeah,” Morgan replied in a snarky tone. “You got it real rough, Kevin. Tell me something. Are you here to look for bugs or bug the shit out of me? I can’t really tell right now.”

  I heard him pace about the kitchen and living areas before he made a line for the bedrooms. From the sound of his steps, he’d chosen Morgan and Sasha’s room to inspect first. That was good. It gave me a chance to try to quit shaking so badly. If I got found by the man, I knew my time left in the current world would be short.

  “Looks pretty good,” I heard him say as his footsteps came closer. “I’m sure this room…”

  His words trailed off and I held as still as I could. Had he spotted me moving? Was he about to kick the pile of clothing I was hidden beneath? His next move meant a lot to my life…or potential death.

  “You wanna move that pile of clothes, Morgan,” he called out. I heard her soft steps pad closer. “I can’t check in the corner with all those dirty clothes piled up like that.”

  “After I spent half the morning sorting dirty from clean so Liv and I could do wash tomorrow?” she huffed. That was a good alibi, I had to admit.

  “I gotta see in the corner,” he said nicely. “I can skip looking along that back wall, but I gotta take a look in the corner. That’s where they like to creep in; it’s where the cracks are in these places.”

  “Go ahead and move them,” Morgan said in a flirtatious tone. “You’re a big, strong man, Kevin. Surely a pile of clothes like that won’t get the best of you.”

  I listened as he took a timid step, what direction I wasn’t sure, and pause. I wasn’t certain what Morgan was up to, but whatever it was didn’t seem like a good idea to me.

  “You know I can’t touch your personal stuff,” Kevin replied. “If Pauly there sees me do that and tells Mr. Shaklin, I’ll be the next one getting a boot across the face. So, can you just do me a favor and move them a little?”

  I heard Morgan step nearer. “You men are all so demanding. I bet you get a big kick out of bossing a skinny woman around.” I felt her push the clothes closest to my head towards me and I let her slide me more towards the bed. Unfortunately my butt hit the frame and made a solid thump for all to hear.

  “What was that?” the man who went by Kevin asked.

  “What was what?” Morgan replied after what felt like an eternity.

  “That sound,” he said. “I heard a bang when you moved those clothes. What you got under them?”

  Shit, I was about to be busted and I knew it. I was going to die trying to sneak away and get shot with women’s underwear covering my chest. Of all the crappy ways to go.

  “That was just a pile of books I forgot to move,” Morgan replied nonchalantly. “I got some medical books I read every once in a while still. Just to keep up for the kids, and fellows like you.”

  The long, silent pause that followed made me want to puke. I could picture Kevin, drawing a pistol from his waistband and aiming it at the center of the clothes pile, which also happened to be the center of my body.

  “I keep forgetting you do all the doctoring round here,” Kevin finally replied. “A guy like me who hardly never gets sick doesn’t ever get much of your attention.”

  “That’s because you take good care of yourself, Kevin,” Pauly replied. “If Shaklin had more men like you—”

  “I wouldn’t have a job,” Morgan finished cheerily.

  I heard the footsteps moving away. “Come on, Pauly,” Kevin stated. “Let’s get three done so I can get on with the rest of my day. Thanks, Morgan. Hope you get all healed up now.”

  I heard the bedsprings creak next to me. “Thanks, Kevin. You take care now.”

  When I heard the front door slam shut and gave it a few extra seconds to make sure we were alone, I finally let out the breath I’d been holding.

  “That was close,” Morgan said, moving the clothes by my face. “That was damn close.”

  All I could do was nod and breathe, because she was right.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

  A little while later, Morgan was busy tending to my wounds and I was trying to figure out how to get us out of there and bring help back for the others. I thought my task was the most important of the day, seeing as no one around the Shaklin farm was a free person. Morgan had other ideas though.

  “You’ve got to quit fidgeting, Quinn,” she scolded. “Every time you move, that wound on your rib cage keeps opening up.”

  So what? I was losing a little blood and she was running low on bandages. Belinda could always sneak her more down with the supplies she brought twice a week. I had a great plan formulating in my mind and needed to talk about it.

  “I say we get in the corn the minute they come back from evening duties,” I began as she pushed me further back into the couch for the tenth time in sixty seconds. “That’s like two hours before dark. If we really hustle and stay on the roads just where we know it’s safe, we can make it to Palomino by morning.”

  “Pimento,” she said, giving me a dirty look. “And if you don’t quit moving, you’ll bleed to death before they get home tonight.”

  I pushed aside her good-natured ribbing and tried to concentrate on my plan…our plan.

  “Man, if we only had a cell phone,” I remarked as she played the edges of the wound, applying a new piece of gauze. “A cell phone and a handheld GPS unit would be so great right now.”

  I could see the frustration on Morgan’s face increase each time I moved and/or spoke. “Yeah, cell phone. Great idea. If they still worked. And I can’t imagine any GPS units are still functional; not given that they run off of batteries and power and satellites. You keep forgetting we’re in the middle of nothingness now. Any modern conveniences that come back to that mind of yours are pretty much dead.”

  I stared at her while she applied tape over the large gauze pad on my side. “What do you miss most, Morgan? What one thing would you magically bring back to life if you could?”

  She gave it a moment’s thought before shaking her head and chuckling. “Don’t talk so stupid. There ain’t no sense in wishing for something that’s never going to happen. I don’t like to think like that. I don’t live in la la land. That’s Livy’s specialty every once in a while.”

  She was the serious one of the group. Most of the time. She got goofy — about me usually — but only when the others were around. All of her flirtatious bouts had always happened in front of at least one other housemate and usually with all four of them present.

  “Come on,” I urged. “One thing.”

  “Just the other day,” she continued as though she hadn’t heard me, “Livy was talking about how nice it would be to have some electric blankets for winter time. I mean, come on. We don’t even have an outlet in this place, much less electricity. And I told her it ain’t ever coming back so she’d just better—”

  “One thing, Morgan. What do you want back?”

  She refused to even peek at me. Instead, she cleaned up her pile of trash and walked it into the kitchen to toss out.

  “Last spring, that stupid girl thought she heard someone playing a radio in one of the other cabins,” she said quietly, finally looking up at me with watery eyes. “Now how stupid is that? No power, no hope, no nothing. And Livy thinks someone is hiding a radio and playing it when they think no one else is around.”

  The woman had no hope. Her tired, cold eyes spoke of lost this, lost that, lost everything. I needed to change the subject.

  “So, I think if we just play it cool and are ready to sneak out some evening,” I said as she looked down and pressed her palms against the kitchen table, “maybe rain will come soon and we can sneak away in the rain. Or maybe fog, or maybe a fine drizzle.”

  “A Keurig,” Morgan said, barely aloud,
looking down. When she peered up at me, I saw the tears streaming down her pale face.

  I felt my lips twist as I stared at her. “A Keurig?” I asked, trying not to sound overly surprised. But, come on; of all the things she wanted back at the end of the world, she chose that?

  “I’d kill for a decent cup of coffee,” Morgan added. “Of all the things I miss, that’s about the worst of it. We mostly drink weak tea. Coffee is a luxury. They have it up at the big house, but we rarely get it down here. I walked by Two the other day and she had a fresh cup in her hand. I damn near wanted to take her down and wrestle her for it.” She wiped away her tears and tried to smile. “That’s what I want most, Quinn. A decent cup of coffee. And I’m not sure I’ll ever have another one.”

  I nodded and smiled sadly at her. I asked a question and received a personal, honest answer. I had expected a playful reply or none at all. Instead, I got a painful one. I began to understand at that moment what the previous six years had been like, for all of us. Even if I couldn’t remember much about them.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE

  It was two nights later, maybe three, and the dinner conversation with my housemates was a little wild and scattered. Sara and Sasha had been chewed out by Two for most of the day. A whiny child was Sara’s undoing. So much so that Shaklin’s second wife had the poor younger woman in tears every time she chewed her out.

  Sasha had dropped a vase of wild flowers early in the day. Shelly, Wife Two, was on her in an instant and stayed on her all day long. Her dusting was deemed to be shoddy work, unworthy of what Shaklin gave her in return. The place settings at lunch were uneven and looked sloppy, according to the second missus. While the older sister didn’t shed tears easily, she did seem plenty miffed.

  Liv though seemed to have gotten the worst of it. And while it should have upset her more, she told it in her typical sing-song fashion.