Kevin put the book he was reading down. “Thank you, Laurel.”
“You’re also very polite to me.”
“Of course.”
“You are more polite to me than to anyone else.”
“Well, I-.”
“You are polite to me because you believe that homosexuality is a sin.”
“I never said that.”
“I know, but it’s how you feel. I can’t help who I am. I loved Harvey in the same way you love Monique.”
“I know, I never meant to –”
“It’s okay, that’s not why I want to talk to you. You are not a perceptive person, Kevin. You spend a lot of time in this study surrounded by all these books, but have you ever looked at the photos on the wall?”
“No, I didn’t think it was important.”
“Sometimes, Kevin, you are blissfully unaware. What did Lorne look like?”
“I don’t remember – I think he had red hair. Why?”
“These photos show a nice couple. He is bald, she is beautiful, and their son is going to a prestigious university in the States.”
“What?”
“He was a lawyer, and she was a doctor.” He pointed to the plaques on the wall.
“How do you know that? That’s not possible.”
Kevin was agitated, but Laurel remained stoic.
“As I said, you are not very perceptive. If you were, you would know that there’s a safe behind that painting? You would know that Lorne did not own this house, but was only the groundskeeper. You would also know that there are enemies at your gates and more on their way.”
“What are you talking about?”
“There is a toolbox with gardening implements that has Lorne’s name on it. He lived with his wife in the guest house out back. You didn’t even know there was a guest house, did you? Also, I’ve seen a woman and man looking through the gates. How many hours do you spend cleaning this place? It’s a full-time job, isn’t it? It was for the couple that used to do it. Every day they cleaned this big house, and all they got was minimum wage. When the bald man and his beautiful wife died from the Scourge, the housekeeper went home. She sat with her husband in their tiny apartment and realized that no one would know if they moved into this house. By the time they worked up the nerve, you guys had already moved in. They know that this is not your house. She may have worked here for many years, and she thinks she deserves this house.”
“How do you know all that?” asked a flabbergasted Kevin.
“Consider it an educated guess. Unlike you, I pay attention to my surroundings, and I know people. I know that the son of the couple that lived here may have got bored living in his little frat house. You see how he is smiling in all these pictures with his parents. He loves them, and he will come back here to find them and claim his inheritance.”
“How do you know he’s still alive?”
“In the top drawer of that desk is a sticky note with a password. That password allows access to the computer in front of you. The email server doesn’t appear to be working anymore, but the last correspondence from him was not that long ago. It’s not a sure thing, but he could be alive, and on his way here.”
“Why didn’t you tell me any of this before?”
“You never asked. You treat me with politeness, but I’m not really a part of your little clan. If you want to be the leader of this group – although I think Monique would make a better leader – then you need to treat everyone with respect and utilize their abilities and talents. That’s how you make a successful team, and you are going to need a successful team to defend this house you are squatting in.”
“Why are you telling me this now?” asked an exasperated Kevin.
“You really are not very perceptive. I’m dying, Kevin.” Blood trickled from his nose, his eyes rolled back, and he collapsed onto the carpet.
“Monique! Someone! Help!” He cradled Laurel in his arms.
Monique came running into the room with Olivia in her arms. “What happened? Is he okay?”
“I think he’s sick.”
Blender helped Kevin carry Laurel to the couch in the living room. Zach and Ayesha came running when they heard the commotion. Roxie followed them in, sniffed Laurel, and sat by his side.
“Is he dead?” asked Zach.
Ayesha gave him a little push. “Don’t say that.”
Laurel was still breathing.
Monique knelt beside the couch and held his hand. When Laurel opened his eyes, she pushed the hair covering his eyes aside. “It’s okay, Laurel, we’re all here for you.”
“We should take him to the hospital,” said Kevin.
“I’ll bring the car to the front,” said Blender.
Laurel lifted his other hand to stop them. “No, you don’t need to do that.”
“The hospital can’t help him,” said Monique. “He has the Scourge.”
“You knew?” asked Laurel.
“Of course, I knew,” she said.
He started coughing, and blood leaked out the side of his mouth. He squeezed her hand and started whispering. Monique leaned closer to hear.
“Take care of them, Monique.”
“You go be with your Harvey,” she whispered back.
“You should-.” He never finished his sentence.
Kevin took Blender to the shed to find shovels. He noticed the toolbox with Lorne written in black marker on it. Kevin put the toolbox under the bench out of sight. They buried Laurel in the back yard. Each of them said something they liked about Laurel, and Kevin said a little prayer.
The next day, Monique walked into the study as Kevin was putting picture frames into a box.
“What are you doing?” asked Monique.
“I’m putting some of these photos away. I don’t like looking at people I don’t even know all day. I was thinking we could get Zach to print our photos and hang them in here.”
“That might be nice,” she said.
“Laurel said that he saw someone lurking outside the gate. Have you seen anybody?” asked Kevin.
“No, but I don’t walk that way often. Is this something we should be worried about?”
“No, it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll check it out, but I’m sure it’s nothing.”
Over the next week, Kevin walked out to the gate twice a day, but saw no one. Kevin looked in the drawers of the desk and found another sticky note that had the combination to the wall safe. He found stacks of money. He and Blender made trips into Commerce City to buy food and supplies every two weeks. There were fewer stores open, and the shelves were emptying. They paid cash to have the large propane tanks filled, and the government provided electricity for free. The government also set up stations for handing out food rations.
Chapter 21
It was early December when Joe and the other prisoners were loaded into buses. The day was cold and grey as Joe and Ben climbed aboard a modified school bus. It was painted dark blue and had metal guarding on the windows. A second blue bus drove behind them. Their hands and feet were shackled together on short chains. A guard with a shotgun sat behind the driver. Joe sat against the window beside Ben, who talked non-stop. He pretended to listen and nodded once and a while as he stared out the window.
Snow was falling lightly, adding to the dirty slush already covering the city. A few vehicles were driving through the wet snow on the roads, and many abandoned cars lined each side of the street. Several businesses were boarded up or had their front windows smashed in. A few buildings were burnt to the ground, and others were still smoking. There were signs indicating where C3’s were located and small black flags hung outside some homes. He watched two light-armoured military vehicles go by. A few people were out walking, but the streets were mostly abandoned. Before the blue buses left the city limits, they stopped briefly at a well-armed military blockade. The buses drove east on the highway away from Commerce City. The highway was almost empty. Several vehicles were abandoned in the ditch or on the side of the road. T
he bus drove on through the thin layer of slush covering the highway for a few hours before Joe nodded off to sleep.
They stopped once, for everyone to do their business on the side of the road and eat stale pitas. He watched as the guards on the other bus dragged a dead prisoner off the bus and laid him on the side of the road, then covered his body with a blanket. They stuck a short pole with a black flag on it in the ground beside him.
They got back on the bus and resumed their trip. The bus crossed the border into Quebec, past Montreaux without stopping. Just over four hours later, they pulled off the highway at the Chateaugay exit. They stopped briefly at a military checkpoint before the pair of buses drove into an industrial park and stopped outside a large warehouse with the sign: Jean’s la Nourriture Pour Animaux.
The guard at the front of Joe’s bus with the shotgun stood up. “Okay, people time to get off.”
“This is the jail?” someone asked.
“No, this is the halfway point. We will sleep here for the night and finish our trip to the Big House tomorrow.” Joe still didn’t know where their final destination was.
The group exited the bus and walked towards the large warehouse, dragging their chains through the slushy gravel. The prisoners from the second bus were doing the same. As they approached the building, Joe looked back and watched a guard carry a dead prisoner off the bus.
Joe and Ben joined the line as it wound its way into the building’s glass front doors. They went through a small lobby and into a large open area in the building. It smelled like dog kibble.
There were stacks of dog food against the walls. The building didn’t appear to have been abandoned for very long. As they herded everyone inside, Joe noticed Tank was in the line from the other bus and nodded to him.
It was still cold inside, but at least it was dry. The guards handed out blankets and bottles of water, and the prisoners settled down for the night. As Joe and Ben laid out their blankets in their little corner, Tank walked up carrying his blanket roll.
“Hey guys, do you mind if I bunk up with you?”
“No problem,” said Ben, “We haven’t seen you since…”
The big guy looked up with a melancholy look on his face. As he unrolled his blanket, he simply said, “yeah.”
Joe was lying on his side on a blanket with his head propped up. “Look, I’m sorry about Ubi. I know he was your friend.”
Tank sat on his blanket. “Where ever he is right now, I bet he’s bragging about how he died by a gunshot to the head.”
Ben lay back on his blanket with hands behind his head. “Where’s Stretch?”
“The Scourge got him. More than half of my cell block died last month.”
“Sorry to hear that, Tank.”
“Thanks, I have no one left…”
“You have us.”
The three of them lay silent. Listening to the hum of other conversations going on around them, until Ben spoke up. “I think a lot more people have been dying lately. It’s like a second wave of the virus or something. I know a doctor in Elora. I did his taxes. He said that the second wave was going to be worse than the first. He told me that this could be the virus that wipes out all humanity. I think he might have been exaggerating, kind of like he tried to do with his tax write-offs.”
They continued talking in hushed tones further into the night. A couple hours later they heard a commotion outside the front doors. The three of them joined the other prisoners as they huddled around the doors leading into the lobby to find out what was going on. Joe had a hard time seeing much. He had to look over the other prisoner’s heads, through the open doors to the front lobby and out the glass entrance doors. The guards were yelling at someone, but Joe could only see a silhouette. The man stood in front of a vehicle whose lights were pointed at the front doors. He was gesticulating wildly. The guards had their guns pointed at the man and were yelling at him.
Joe thought he recognized the man’s voice. “I think I know that guy!” Joe said to Ben and Tank. They were in the middle of the group of about 50 others trying to see. Tank looked at Joe, “Do you want to get closer?”
“That would be nice, but…”
Before he could finish, Tank lived up to his namesake and began plowing through the crowd. Joe followed close behind him. Many of the prisoners got mad about being pushed aside and would turn angrily to confront the interloper. However, once they saw the large beast of a man with menacing scowl, they stepped aside.
Joe and Tank eventually made it to the front of the crowd. The man was now on his knees, and two guards were next to him. One had a shotgun pointed at his head, and the other was yelling. A flashlight shone briefly on the man’s face.
Joe couldn’t believe it.
What is Kevin doing here?
Joe yelled as loud as he could, “Kevin, over here! Kevin! It’s me! Over here!” He waved his arms frantically.
Kevin seemed to pause briefly and tried to look around the guard in front of him. Joe yelled again, “Kevin, I’m here!” One of the guards grabbed Kevin and led him back to his jeep. Kevin reluctantly got inside the jeep.
The guard inside the factory building cocked his gun. “Okay, the show’s over, back inside.” The lights of the jeep swept around to face away from the factory, and Kevin drove away.
With frustrated groans, the group of prisoners walked back to their bedrolls. The guards sat back down on chairs under the glow of the red exit lights at the exits. The other fluorescent lights were turned off, and other than the red glow over the guards, the factory was plunged into darkness.
Back in their little sleeping area, Joe, Ben and Tank lay down on the chilly floor.
“Did you know that guy?” asked Ben.
“That was Kevin.” Joe rubbed his wrists, which were getting red and sore from the shackles.
“The guy from the letter?” Ben rolled over uncomfortably. “What was he doing here?”
“I have no idea what he’s doing here.”
“Maybe he’s come to bust you out,” Tank interjected.
“You know,” said Ben, “This might be a good time to make another escape attempt. I heard that another guard died today. How many do you think are left?”
“Not many,” answered Tank. “I bet if we could convince a few others to join us, we could overpower the few guards that are left and make a run for it.”
“You know I can hear you morons.” One of the guards shone his flashlight in their direction.
“We were kidding?” said Ben. The conversation ended, and they tried to get comfortable. Joe heard Ben snoring as he slowly fell into a cold restless sleep.
Despite the non-stop sounds of ankle and wrist cuffs jangling every time someone moved, Joe fell asleep. He woke briefly sometime during the night when he heard whispering and doors creaking open and closed. Moments later it went quiet again and Joe went back to sleep.
Joe woke with a start to talking and shuffling from many of the prisoners across the factory floor.
He rubbed his eyes and sat up. His back ached, and he felt cold and clammy. “What time is it?”
Tank was sitting up. “Something is happening.”
“Is it breakfast?” Joe asked, stretching.
A few of the prisoners were looking out the small windows into the lobby. Others were talking in hushed conversations that were getting louder.
“Wake Ben up, it’s time to go,” said Joe. “What do you think is going on?” he asked Tank as he knelt down and gently nudged Ben.
“I think they’re gone,” said Tank.
Ben was still sleeping, and Joe pushed him harder. “Who’s gone?”
“The guards.”
“Where to?” Joe asked as he shook Ben harder.
“I don’t know, maybe they left.”
Joe grabbed Ben by the shoulders and shook him hard.
“Is he dead?” Tank asked, looking down at Ben.
Joe reached down and plugged Ben’s nose.
Suddenly Ben’s eyes open
ed, his body tensed. He swung his arms wildly at Joe who stood up. “You’re a deep sleeper.”
Ben stood up beside the two of them. “What’s going on?”
“The guards are gone,” said Tank.
A door opened, letting in bright morning sunshine. There was shouting, and the prisoners started leaving. They used the two side exits, walking past the empty chairs that the guards had sat on the night before.
The factory where they slept emptied. Joe, Tank, and Ben followed the group going into the lobby. There were no guards anywhere. Some of the prisoners were leaving out the front door. Others in the lobby were taking turns using a key on a large ring to unshackle themselves. When it was his turn, Joe used the key to liberate himself and then Ben and Tank. The three of them spilled out the front door with the rest of the former prisoners.
Both buses were gone and everyone was running in all directions away from the factory trampling the fresh layer of snow in the empty parking lot.
“I don’t think we have to run,” Joe spoke first. “The guards abandoned us last night. I think they drove away in the buses.” They were not dressed for the weather and Joe rubbed his hands to try to keep them warm.
“Where to now, boss?” Tank asked Joe, as he rubbed his freshly freed wrists.
“Why am I the boss?” asked Joe.
“You’re the brains,” Tank replied, “I’m the brawn, and he’s not going to last two days out here.” He pointed at Ben.
“Hey, you should be nice to me. You may need me to do your taxes someday.”
“I doubt that.”
“Okay, that’s enough kids,” said Joe, “We need to find…” He didn’t finish his sentence. At the end of the driveway to the factory he saw someone yelling and waving as he stood in front of a blue jeep. “Is that…Kevin?”
He started walking faster and then jogged towards Kevin as his friends tried to keep up.
When they reached Kevin, they hugged awkwardly.
“That’s quite the chin bristle you’re sporting,” said Kevin
Joe rubbed his dark beard. “I’m trying something different,” Joe said and introduced his friends. “This is Tank and Ben…this is Kevin.”
Black Flag | Book 1 | Surviving The Scourge Page 12
