"Max!" Griffin cried out when he heard her being sick.
"I'm ok, I'm ok," she said weakly as she stood. She used a clean piece of her shirt to wipe her mouth. Looking around, she realized Griffin had handled the last infected while she was puking. He stood next to her now, staring at her in the dim light trying to determine what was going on.
"I, uh, his guts were where his belt should have been. So yeah, I touched more than I wanted to. Just caught me off guard," Max rambled. Griffin pushed her hair away from her face, looking her over. She pushed his hands away, turning toward the last infected to search for keys. This time she used her penlight to make sure she didn't get any unpleasant surprises. The second body also proved to be unsuccessful for keys. Frustrated Max spun away, looking around to see if somehow either of the infected had dropped them.
"None here either," Max said to Griffin as he followed her and her small light deeper into the bar. The further they moved from the open door, the deeper the darkness became. In the back of the bar, a pool table sat. Pieces of pool sticks were littered across the table, dark spots stained the felt top. Signs of a massive attack were all throughout the bar.
Max shined her small light across the ground, looking for anything that shined. As they walked their boots made sickly noises, sticking to the fluids that had been spilled during whatever attack happened. Max could picture that the news of the plague hitting the more populated areas reached the small town, but because they weren't seeing it, it didn't feel possible. These bikers came to the bar like they normally did, but someone sick showed up as well.
Near the back wall, two bodies were piled. Griffin and Max approached them slowly, watching them closely for any movement. When they were close enough that the small light provided some illumination, they could see both of them had gunshot wounds to the head. Max feeling relieved that they wouldn't be waking up to attack, crouched down and checked their belts. The sound of a chain indicated she had found her prize.
"Let's get out of here," Max said. The dark bar was making her skin crawl. She was ready to be back out in the cool sunshine.
They ran back to the hiding spot where they left Turner, Cliff, and Jack, holding the keys they had found. They were able to match them to the three bikes they would need. It was decided that Jack would ride with Griffin, Max would ride alone and Turner would double with Cliff on the larger cruiser they found. Max hadn't argued when Griffin suggested Jack ride with him. She knew he wouldn't have suggested it if he wasn't sure it was safe for Jack. Max also hadn't ridden double with someone in years, so she didn't want to risk Jack on the back of her bike.
"We should check the store," Max said. They were strapping their packs to the bikes, making sure everything was tied down tightly. Jack was wearing a small helmet that must have belonged to a woman riding with someone that had come to the bar before the plague hit. Max had tightened the strap on it a few times, checking and rechecking that her head would be safe in the event of an accident.
"We're running a little light on provisions. Better to check now while we can," Max added, motioning toward the store. The windows in the front were busted out, the place looking to have been looted. But there was truly no way of knowing what was left without entering the store and picking through what was inside.
Agreeing with her, Griffin accompanied Max into the store, leaving Turner to protect Jack and Cliff if necessary. The inside of the store was dark and dank. The smell of blood seemed to be heavy on the air, but with the mess of spilled milk spoiling on the ground, it was hard to pinpoint. Griffin and Max worked together to search the remaining canned goods. There weren't many, the store resembling a small gas station market. They took everything that was there, as well as crackers and ramen soups.
Back at the bikes, they packed the food into saddlebags on the bike Max would ride. Everyone began to climb onto their bikes. Max stood with Jack as Griffin got his bike started. It had an electric start which made it catch quickly. The gas tank looked to be three fourths full, which was a blessing that would get them to the next large city at least. Once there they planned to hot-wire a vehicle large enough for them.
Jack climbed onto the back of the bike with Griffin easily. They had found keys to a Harley with a passenger backrest on the back. Jack settled in as Griffin kicked up the kickstand. Max leaned close to Jack, yelling over the louder than necessary exhaust.
"Hold on tight, you hear me, Jack?" Max yelled. She was more than a little nervous about Jack riding with someone other than her. Common sense told her it was the right thing to do. Jack nodded her little helmet and leaned forward to wrap her arms around Griffin's waist. He patted her arm before looking over at Max and nodding his understanding to her.
Max went to her own bike and put on her helmet. She mounted her bike and kicked up the kickstand. Her bike was a kickstart and with one foot planted strongly on the ground, she used all of her weight to kick down on the kickstand. The bike immediately caught, an obviously well taken care of bike to be a one-kicker start. The smell of exhaust reached her nose as she moved her bike slowly up behind Griffin's. They turned on their seats to watch Turner starting his with electric start, Cliff behind him attempting to figure out how to be comfortable for their ride.
As they took off, Griffin headed toward the train track they had agreed on using until they had to move up to the freeway. They wanted to stay as concealed as they could. As long as the track was clear, they should be able to ride there for a few miles. Max quickly got the feel for the unknown machine under her. It was hard for her to not feel glee at the freedom she felt, with the cool air whipping around her.
Looking forward, she felt that glee slip away as she thought about the scene she was seeing. Griffin riding, with their daughter behind him. Keeping her safe and making decisions about what was the best for her. And him having no idea that she was his daughter. Max also felt fear for how Jack would react once Max told her the truth as well. Would she feel cheated, angry, understanding? Would her daughter understand how she ended up at a place where she didn't tell Griffin that he had a daughter?
Jack's hair flew behind her, loose under her helmet. Her dark hair was all Max. Her attitude and what she had learned from Max made her more and more like her mother. Her heart, her sense of humor, those were Griffin. Max loved her daughter, Jack always knew that. But it was well known that Max wasn't the most emotionally involved mother. She tried to always provide what her daughter needed but being around Griffin had made Max question so much about the years that had passed.
Guilt flooded her. Her heart believed Griffin, he had written her. If she had just tried harder, reached out to his family, he would have known about Jack. And Max wouldn't have grown into the bitter woman she had become. Jack wouldn't have been cheated out of the years of Griffin in her life. On the heels of the guilt, resolve followed. Turner knew the truth, and it would soon be the time to tell Griffin.
Thirty minutes into their rough ride along the railroad, Griffin turned into the woods, following a slim path. Max slowed and turned sharply to follow. She checked her side mirrors and found Turner to not be far behind them. They road as fast as they could through the trees, feeling unsafe and vulnerable on the bikes. When Max burst into the open, she watched as Griffin and Jack turned down the freeway and headed down the clear road. Max found herself grinning as she was able to increase her speed and fly down the open space.
Rooftops could be seen on either side of the freeway as the sun dipped low in the sky. As they entered the city limits, cars were littering the freeway. Max planted a foot on the bumper of one as she maneuvered her bike through one wreck. Slowing, she pulled up next to Griffin, who sat idling looking at the city. It was getting late, none of them wanted to be out during the night. Entering the city had risks of its own.
Turner pulled up next to them and they all switched off their motors. Riding was exhausting, and they hadn't taken many breaks on their way, wanting to cover as much ground as possible. Max kicked out her kicksta
nd and swung her leg over the seat. Her legs felt like jelly and pain radiated through her hips. Cliff looked as bad as Max was feeling, the man limping in a circle trying to work the needles out of his body. Griffin helped Jack get off the back of his bike, the little girl showing no ill effects from riding, youth being a beautiful thing.
"What do you think, Max?" Griffin asked.
"I'm not sure. We need shelter for the night. Tomorrow we can find a car," Max replied.
"Let's stay on the outskirts," Turner suggested, motioning toward the first exit they saw. "Better to stay where fewer people were when the plague hit. Downtown is going to be a real nightmare."
"Maybe an abandoned house. I've had luck with that before," Max mused out loud.
"I'm sure there's plenty of those around here," Turner said.
Casting her eyes around the freeway, the shadows began to deepen as the sun moved lower in the sky. Those shadows played with her mind, creating scenes of moving creatures watching them from a distance. She stared into some of them for a moment, proving to herself that nothing hid or waited for them. The infected didn't wait. They came for their meals directly.
They stretched and forced their bodies back onto the bikes. Slowly they exited the freeway and turned into one of the first neighborhoods they saw. The scene was similar to those Max had seen since society began to break apart. Debris was strewn along the street, anything from random trash to clothing, shoes, and toys. There were suitcases sitting next to a van in one driveway. A family that never had the chance to escape, Max thought to herself sadly.
Max chose a house that didn't seem as disturbed as the others. Her gut told her that no one was home at the start of the plague, making it less likely to be filled with the infected now. Even with the gut feeling, when they cut off their engines, they sat and waited for movement or noise. When nothing came, Griffin went to the front door with Turner covering his back. When they returned to the bikes, they confirmed the house was empty.
Carrying their supplies in, they found a softly colored home with mint walls in the kitchen. Max walked down the hallway slowly, looking at the family photos hanging on the walls. She tried to imagine what type of people lived in such a pretty home. The photos boasted of an old love, between two people that had been together most of their lives. Photos of grandchildren were hung in abundance, the sign of a life full of family and love.
"It's sad, isn't it?" Griffin said, walking up behind her.
"I wonder what it was like to live this life," Max said quietly, running her finger along a frame that held the older couple surrounded by adults who were probably their children and grandchildren at their feet. "This is what normal life should look like. Love, marriage, children, a life built together. I never saw that."
"I did. Everyone is different though, Max. What works for some, doesn't work for everyone. These people had a life full of love in these photos. At least when the plague hit, they already had a chance to have it."
"Would we have had this? If I had gotten your letters?" Max asked, her voice almost a whisper. At first, she wasn't sure Griffin had heard her. He didn't answer, didn't move his gaze from the family photo on the wall.
"Maybe. Why didn't you have it with someone else?" Griffin asked.
Suddenly a realization came over Max. They were safe for the moment in this house. The secret was laying heavy on her mind. If she didn't tell him while she had a quiet moment, she would end up blurting it out ungracefully during an inappropriate time. She knew that much about herself. Without really knowing the words she would use, she turned to him in the hall.
"We need to talk. I have some things I need to say," Max told him. He looked at her and nodded. Together they made their way deeper into the house until they came to a room. It was a guest room and office, with a small twin bed and large working area. The room was littered with yarn and fabric, boasting of an artistic hand that enjoyed a lot of time in the space. Max turned in the room, looking at all of the details. She felt like an intruder, even though she knew the likelihood that the people were alive was slim.
"What's up, Max?" Griffin asked. She looked at him. Her hands were shaking, so she gripped them together in front of her. However, that just made her knuckles go white with the strain, so she started fiddling with items in the room.
"You should probably sit down," she started. Griffin looked at her strangely but then took a seat across the room on the small bed.
"You said you wrote. I didn't know that. When you left, I was heartbroken. My dad knew it. But he must have made sure I never found your letters," she said.
"We've already been through this, you said you believe me," he replied. But Max didn't stop talking.
"After my sadness passed, or maybe it never passed, I just pushed it away. I got angry. I was so mad at you for leaving me. I was mad at you for not following through with the promises and plans we had," Max said, her voice shaking. She could feel tears prick in her eyes, and she squeezed them shut trying to prevent any from falling. One thing Max didn't do was cry. She paused. Not sure what her next words should be, even though she knew what needed to be said. Her throat was sandpaper and she debated running from the room.
"Ok..." Griffin said, urging her to continue.
"The anger was worse I think, because of Jack," Max finally said. Before he could say anything, she kept talking. Her back was to him as she spoke, she couldn't bear looking into his eyes, to see the hatred he would have to feel for her.
"It was only a few weeks after you had left. Before you were able to write I'm guessing. When I found out," she whispered.
"Found out what? Say it, Max," Griffin said, his voice eerily calm. It made her spin to look at him. His hands were balled into fists on the mattress as if he were waiting to hit something.
"Found out I was pregnant," Max confessed finally.
Griffin sat stone still, his face a blank mask. His eyes seemed unfocused as his mind worked through the information that Max had given him. She was debating going to him, sitting next to him, trying to make him understand why she made the choice she had. But she imagined there was no way to see this through her eyes. In his mind, she had left him, he had written and she never responded.
"How old is Jack? I don't know why I never asked," Griffin asked suddenly.
"She's eight."
“Damn it, Mitch," Griffin suddenly said, exploding up off the bed to pace the room. Max stood still in her spot watching him walk. "He knew. He knew what he was doing keeping us apart. I mean sure we were too young to have a baby. But we would have done the right thing," Griffin was saying more to himself then Max. Suddenly he whirled to face her, with the anger she expected finally on his face. His eyes blazed with it as his gaze bore into hers.
"Why didn't you try to get in touch with me? You could have called my parents if you really thought I had left you with no contact. They would have told me about Jack," he demanded.
"Keep your voice down, please," Max said in a low voice.
"She doesn't know either, does she?"
Max just shook her head. Jack had always accepted the story of her father being gone as truth, never questioning further into it. Max assumed she was just too young to really understand the concept of not having two parents.
"I didn't call. I didn't look for you. I was wrong to do that. But I was in pain. The last thing I wanted was you coming back to me, just because I was pregnant. You didn't want me, so we didn't need you," Max said, trying to explain.
"Eight years, Max, eight years! You could have picked up a phone, found me. I missed out on eight years. With her, with my daughter," Griffin said, his voice gruff with emotion. Max's guilt seemed to settle in her stomach, making her ill with it. She stepped toward Griffin, laying a hand on his arm. He didn't pull away, so she moved closer. She pulled his face to look at hers, so he could see the sincerity in her words.
"I am truly sorry. I was wrong. I think I've always known that. That's why I came to get you when everything went to shit. Par
t of me always thought I'd find you someday, and we'd hash this out. But then everything started ending. All I could think was what if something happened to you, or me and no one ever knew the truth."
"She doesn't know. She doesn't know I'm her father," Griffin said quietly.
"No. But I know we have to tell her. Maybe I should talk to her first?" Max suggested. Griffin just nodded at her and pulled away finally.
"You have every right to hate me for this, Griffin. And I won't blame you if that's what you decide," she said, her eyes full of sadness. She had known telling him this truth would ruin whatever road they may have found to lead them to what was meant to be all those years ago. Nonetheless, she had to tell him, Jack having her father in her life was more important than Max having a romantic relationship.
"I don't hate you, Max. I'm so damn mad at you right now though. And I need to figure that out."
"Ok." She couldn't say anything else.
"After you talk to Jack, can I have some time alone with her?"
"Of course. I'll let her know you want that."
Griffin walked out of the room without another word. Max followed behind him slowly. She watched him walk into the room where everyone was getting comfortable and thinking about dinner plans. The inside of the house was starting to get dim with no power for lights. Griffin walked up to Jack, running his hand over her head for a moment. She looked at him quizzically but smiled at the affection. He couldn't seem to take his eyes off of her. Max just stood in the doorway watching him while he watched Jack pull out items they needed for the night and discussing dinner with Turner. Suddenly Griffin stepped back and scrubbed at his eyes and Max knew he was hiding his tears.
"Jack, can you come with me for a minute? Bring a lantern.” Max said from her perch in the hallway.
Jack didn't question, just grabbed a light from her pack and followed her mother down the hall. Max took her into the same room she had been in with Griffin. Before they turned the light on, they worked together to secure the shades tightly with fabric tape. Then for extra security, Max hung an additional piece of fabric from the curtain rod. The lantern emitted a soft white glow, lighting up the craft room for them.
Survive (Sundown Series Book 2) Page 22
