The Indiana Apocalypse Series

by E A Lake

  “I have an idea,” Liv said meekly. “It’s kind of drastic, but it might be better than starting a barn on fire.”

  Charolette and I gave her our full attention. The skeptical look on her face worried me, but at that point, I decided we needed to hear her out. And man, was I glad Liv had spoken up.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-SEVEN

  “Let me get this straight,” Morgan said at dinner that night. “I might be missing something, but you’re suggesting—”

  “You’re not missing anything,” Liv said. “It’s as straightforward as Quinn just said.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes and glared at Sara. “Well, bringing him here was maybe the stupidest idea we’ve ever had. He’s gonna get us all killed.”

  “What part don’t you like?” I asked.

  She stared at me and grinned. “First we have to wait for a cloudy day or rain, so we’re dependent on the weather. Then, we’re supposed to traipse through 30 yards of open space that may or may not be illuminated. And we have to be sure there’s no guard in sight. That’s a lot of moving parts.”

  “But doable,” I retorted.

  Her grin broadened. “Well, the best part is the diversion you came up with.”

  “It was really my idea,” Liv announced proudly. “Quinn and Charolette helped me refine it. So, it was really a group effort you could say.”

  “A group of idiots,” Morgan countered. “So, if I understand you completely, which I don’t; you want to start a fire.”

  I nodded, refusing to engage her in a fight until the whole plan was on the table.

  “You want to start our place on fire,” she continued. I couldn’t tell if it was a statement or a question though.

  “It has benefits,” Sara added kindly.

  “Unless we get delayed and trapped inside of this tinderbox,” Morgan groaned. “Everything has to go just right for this to work. And there’s no guarantee we won’t still get caught.”

  “They’ll have to assume it was an accident,” I explained evenly, trying to sell her on the idea. “And that means they’ll think you’re all in here. They don’t know about me, so since they have no way of putting out the fire, they’ll have to let it burn out. That’ll give us a five or six-hour head start. It may even be sometime the next day before they discover you’re gone.”

  I glanced at Morgan; she seemed to be pondering the options. A quick check of Sasha and Sara showed they were convinced it might work. At least they didn’t look as skeptical as Morgan had at first. Liv’s big smile suggested she was all in.

  “I think it will work,” Liv said.

  “It might,” Sasha replied, nowhere near as nervous as I thought she’d be. “Sara?”

  Sara nodded several times. “I don’t have anything better. And as far as I’m concerned, burning this place to the ground means he can’t replace us with others for a while. That’s a good thing, right?”

  Morgan squeezed her eyes shut and placed a palm on her forehead. “I’m not saying it won’t work. All I’m saying is that it seems mighty risky to me, that’s all. I want out of here just as bad as anyone. I just don’t want to have a whiff of freedom and then get caught before we get away.”

  “One of you needs to sneak out a couple of nights in a row and see how everything looks and feels out there,” I said, glad to know Morgan wasn’t completely opposed to the plan. “Maybe whoever does it can even make a few test runs to the edge of the field and back… just so we know what to expect.”

  “I don’t think that’s a very good—” Morgan said.

  “I’ll do it,” Sara announced, not bothering to let Morgan finish. “When are you thinking we’ll make our escape?”

  I peeked at Liv. She knew more than me when it came to timing.

  “Two weeks,” she replied. “There’ll be a new moon then. I know that because we had a full moon last night. And that way we don’t have to depend on cloud cover neither. We’ll be good as gold then.”

  One by one, the other three nodded their agreement. Morgan was the last.

  “Okay then,” I said, feeling good about everything we’d discussed. “We leave at dark in 14 days. Now, I’d feel better if we had some sort of weapon. Maybe someone can steal a knife from somewhere. I’d prefer a pistol, but someone is more likely to miss one of those.”

  The four shared a strange look. Finally, Morgan’s blue eyes came back to me. “We’ll get you something. I’ll make sure you have it in your hands by the time we leave.”

  Good. Now if we could all just stay healthy for another two weeks, the first stage would be done. But I still had no idea how long it would take to round up enough concerned people to come back and get the others. That bothered me more than a little.

  CHAPTER FIFTY-EIGHT

  A week passed and each night we watched the guards closely to find out their particular routines and potential slip-ups. It was funny; I’d watched several of them for a few days during the daylight hours and noticed very little. The night men? They were an interesting group.

  We mainly focused on the time between sunset and complete darkness. That was when we’d be leaving, so I figured that’s where our attention needed to be channeled.

  Some men made rounds like they were guarding the most precious cargo known to mankind. Their heads remained up and on a swivel at all times. Their guns were in front of them, resting in their arms. They made the same path out into the corn each time, sometimes stopping to straighten a torch.

  But other men, ones I hoped were on duty the night of our run, were sloppy. Some carried their rifles over their shoulders on a strap, others had their weapon pointed at the ground. If they noticed a torch had fallen over, they left it alone. And rarely did three of the guards ever make a trip into the cut corn. They simply hustled past the back end of the cabin like they were on their way to an important meeting. The ones that whistled or sang made me smile. We’d hear them coming from a hundred yards away.

  The most interesting habit was their timing. I counted, on average, 600 beats after one man disappeared to our left and the next appeared on the right. Sometimes it was 580, other times 630. I figured it was 10 minutes between rounds. That gave us ample time to escape.

  The torches were bright at first. But as the week pushed on, each evening they didn’t illuminate quite as far into the night. If when we left Cabin Two, hugged the side of Cabin Three and went almost straight back, there was a dead spot between the torches. And Sara proved that three nights in a row.

  “Did you see me that time?” she asked, returning from her third recon mission. “I thought I saw Howie coming around the corner, so I squatted down, right in the middle of the cut stuff.”

  We’d seen her, but barely. Mostly because we knew she was there and even then, I hadn’t realized she’d squatted down. I just thought she’d made her way back already at that point and stopped looking.

  “Dark clothing,” Sasha added. “It’s important everyone wears something dark. And we can’t have very much skin exposed. That seems to reflect the light more than anything.”

  Our plan was coming together nicely. The women had even rounded up some dark clothing – albeit a few sizes too large – for me, thanks to the help of my sister. The torches seemed to be running out of fuel and the guards were noticeably losing interest in their duties. Sometimes what I estimated to be 15 minutes passed between rounds.

  As Liv had predicted, the moon became less and less bright each night. With just six days to go, it was in its last quarter. Whatever light it provided failed to illuminate Sara on her practice runs.

  Everything was falling into place and I felt confident we’d succeed in our escape. Until…

  CHAPTER FIFTY-NINE

  I bolted up in bed at the sound. Not sure of what I’d heard, I listened closely in the dark, still night. When several minutes passed, I relaxed and laid my head back on the pillow that Morgan was trying to steal.

  “Morgan,” I said softly, shaking her nightshirt-covered shoulder. “You already
have two pillows. Give me mine—”

  And the sound repeated itself. I knew that sound. Someone was puking.

  “Damn it,” Morgan groused. “Who’s throwing up?”

  I felt the bed on my left and discovered it empty. It wasn’t even warm. Sasha was sick.

  “Shit, shit, triple shit!” Morgan shouted as she jumped out of bed. “Half those damned kids are sick up at the big house. I knew this was going to happen. I just knew it.”

  Morgan lit a lamp and I hustled after her into the kitchen. I wondered about their roles up at Shaklin’s residence. I had thought Sara worked with the kids and Sasha was more of a maid.

  “If Sasha’s sick, should Sara be—” The answer came before I could finish my question. At the kitchen sink next to the puking Sasha was an equally ill Sara. I would have said they looked green around the gills, but that would have been sugarcoating the situation.

  Morgan glared at me and shook her head. “If this goes through the place, we’re gonna get delayed. Add to that, now I get to mop floors tomorrow in Sasha’s place. And Liv is gonna have to go up there and watch the brats. Then we’re both gonna get sick and then you. This is just freaking great. Just grand.”

  “Morgan,” I said, stepping next to her as Sara hurled what was left in her stomach into the smelly mess already in the sink. “We need to stay positive. Maybe we won’t all get sick.”

  She grinned as she pulled Sara’s hair back, the dry heaves kicking in. “In the apocalypse, malnourished, limited medicine, almost no soap to wash our hands with… you don’t think germs are going to catch up with every last one of us? You’ll have to add a lesson in surviving the shit storm into getting your memory back. This is gonna be ugly. Mark my words.”

  I turned and went back to bed. What did she know? She was, after all, a skeptic and extremely negative. We’d just see about her prediction.

  I was so sick the next morning that I didn’t care if Shaklin himself walked into the bedroom and pointed a gun at my head. Death would have been a welcomed diversion in my mind. After hurling every last bit of contents from my stomach into an old metal pail, I drank some water and promptly let that fly all over the bedding.

  Damn you and your inklings, Morgan.

  Liv and the negative one left for the big house after making sure the three of us were still breathing. I believe Morgan enjoyed feeling my forehead and noting that I was burning up. No shit, lady. Just leave me to die in peace, please.

  Sometime mid-day when I had nothing left to expel, my stomach began to settle down. Brighter times were seemingly ahead. Sara was already feeling much better after a little more than 12 hours of illness and Sasha was showing signs of being able to keep food down.

  We all laid together in Morgan and Sasha’s bed, cracking the window just a bit to let some fresh air into the otherwise stinky cabin. Liv had tried to wash most of the vomit down the drain before she left for work, but that smell lingered in the air like bad gas.

  “Bet you didn’t see this coming in your plan,” Sara joked as she changed the cool washrag on mine and Sasha’s foreheads. She laid on my right and draped an arm across my chest.

  “Does this happen often nowadays?” I asked. “You know, since the old days ended?”

  “Four or five times a year,” Sasha moaned, letting out a shallow breath. “It even hurts to breathe after you’ve thrown up that much.”

  “Like Morgan said,” Sara added, “there’s limited medicine now, doctors are hard to come by and she is our resident medical expert, and not much you can do to kill the germs. Once the flu starts, it don’t stop until everyone has shared in the fun.”

  “Some fun,” I countered with a painful chuckle. “There was a couple of times earlier this morning when I wished Morgan would’ve just killed me like she’s wanted to so many times before.”

  “Morgan would never hurt you,” Sara replied. “She cares too much about you to ever want to hurt you.”

  I turned and faced Sara since her sister had fallen back to sleep. “Then why’s she so nasty all of the time? Why does she always got some negative or harsh comment for everything?”

  Sara shrugged and gave me as small smile. “She really likes you, Quinn. I know you don’t see it…” My snickering made her stop for a second. “But she really cares for you.”

  “She’s got a funny way of showing it,” I replied sarcastically.

  “She’s never been good with boys or men,” Sara replied sadly. “You’d know that if you could remember the past. No one’s ever wanted her and she’s developed a tough skin because of it. All she’s ever wanted is someone who cares about her.”

  “With her attitude,” I laughed, “that won’t be happening anytime soon. No man would want someone like her; she can’t even muster a smile on the good days. Who’d want to put up with that shit?”

  “Please don’t talk like that,” Sara scolded softly. “You don’t know everything. If you did, you’d feel differently.”

  I settled my head into the down pillow to get comfortable. “Since we have plenty of time on our hands, why don’t you enlighten me.”

  Sara shook her head. What did she know that I didn’t, aside from my past, all of my relationships and everything about the times we found ourselves in?

  “It wouldn’t be right for me to say anything more,” she replied as she too leaned her head back. “It just wouldn’t be right, not now.”

  “Oh come on,” I chided. “It can’t be all that bad.”

  “We lied to you about something,” Sara admitted. “And I feel bad enough about it. I don’t want to make it any worse.”

  Well, she certainly had my interest. What lie could have been so bad, especially since I most likely wouldn’t remember it, that she couldn’t talk about it?

  “You didn’t have an affair with Sara,” Sasha added, startling me. I thought she was sound asleep. “We lied about that.”

  That was no big deal. Plus, I would have most likely never known — at least until I got my memory back.

  “You lured me here under false pretenses then,” I replied. “I don’t see the harm—”

  “You had an affair with Morgan,” Sasha added plainly. “And it lasted a lot longer than a few days. Try about a year.”

  And suddenly, I felt like throwing up again.

  CHAPTER SIXTY

  In the golden glow of the last hour of sunlight, I watched Morgan, Liv and several others escorted back into the area in front of the cabins. Rarely did I dare to peer out that front window because there was usually a guard who walked the women all the way to the semi-circle created by the crude homes. And that guard was usually not one of the friendly fellows I’d come to know and respect.

  But I had something on my mind, so I made an exception to my rule and watched as my target mounted the steps. It was important that I spoke to her right away, before she and her group could run off into a corner somewhere and attempt to get their “story” straight.

  The door creaked open and Liv entered first, followed by Morgan. I slipped in behind them and eased the door shut and noticed the surprise on Morgan’s face.

  “What are you doing so close to the window and door?” she said in a snarky tone. “Don’t want to get caught, do you?”

  She tried to walk away, but I grabbed her upper left arm. Twisting her body, she pulled free from my grip.

  “What the hell is up with you?” she asked with a scowl.

  “We need to talk,” I replied forcefully. “We need to talk now.”

  Crossing her arms over her chest, Morgan glared at me. To say she had a pissy expression would have made it sound like she was open to any discussion I cared to have.

  “I don’t think so,” she replied with a huff. “I’m not in the mood to listen to your whining or hair-brained ideas right now. It was another really shitty day in the big house. All I want to do is get out of this dress and relax. We can talk later.”

  I took two steps closer to her. “We need to talk right now.” I wanted th
is out of the way before our escape. Any baggage or hard feelings needed to be left in the burning house and not follow us to Pimento.

  “What about?” she asked, softer than before.

  “Us.” That got her attention. Her eyes tighten and she spun to face the rest of the crowd.

  “You little squealers,” she half-shouted. “All you needed to do was keep your big mouths shut.”

  Liv was the most shocked. For a second, it seemed that she didn’t know what she was talking about. But seeing her red-faced friends, the recognition on her face was clear.

  “So, it’s unanimous then,” I said. “You all knew about it.”

  I expected Morgan to face me and be contrite. I maybe even thought I might get a heart-felt explanation and even a tender touch. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  “It was supposed to be Sara,” she vented. “Because you might have actually given a shit then. She’s the sweet one. You always liked her best. Once we knew your memory was gone, we all agreed it was best off that way.”

  She turned to the others again. “But someone—”

  “We were involved.” I interrupted. “When did you plan on telling me?”

  She turned again and pushed me away with a hard shove to the chest. “Without a memory? Never. I didn’t want to be the pathetic one. I don’t need your pity or your sorrow. If you can’t remember me — remember us — then tough blow.”

  Cupping my head with my hands, I tried a new approach.

  “How long?” I asked.

  “Screw off!” she shouted. “It’s over and you’re never going to remember.”

  “How long, Morgan?”

  For the first time, I saw the woman tear over. It struck my heart like a well-placed arrow.

  “Nineteen months,” she cried, covering her mouth to stifle a sob. “For nineteen months, someone actually cared about me — me! When I left on that last vacation, you said when I got back you were going to file for a divorce. You and I were going to be together for the rest of our lives. And of all the shitty rotten luck in my life, of course the end of the world came and I haven’t seen you in almost seven years.