Missed call. Rachael. The screen shifted. New voice-mail. Her heart stopped. She tapped the icon and collapsed onto the carpet. Was something wrong with Saj? Or Rachael?
The voicemail hummed. “Lizzie? Sorry to bother you.” Rachael's voice seemed loud. Then a pause. “I picked up Saj from your dad. Your dad was kind of... I don't know... weird. Talking like falling in love was the worst thing that could happen. He seemed almost broken. Anyway. You can come get Saj. Or not. Let me know.”
The throbbing in Lizzie's toe had subsided. It felt hot, but not broken. Like her. She had taken a beating since the outbreak started, but surprisingly she wasn’t broken. All this talk of needing Duke as a distraction wasn’t really true. And even if it was, she was using him. She could tell him it was a simple friendly arrangement all she wanted—but he played along because he loved her. She stood and walked back toward the bed.
“What's up?” Duke held the covers up for her.
“I’m not getting back into bed.”
“You need to go get Saj? I can come with you.”
“I’m sorry.”
“What? You're sorry? For what?”
“I'm going home. I can't do this to you.”
Duke stared at her, looking confused. “Do what?”
“I can't stay. I can't sleep with you. You're my friend. You're lovely. But, I...”
“But you what?” Duke sighed and propped himself up on his elbows.
“I need to end this. While we're friends.”
“What?” Duke's voice raised.
Lizzie could hear the hurt she’d caused. “Duke. It’s not you; it’s me.”
“That’s such a fucking cop-out, Lizzie. And it doesn’t matter. I fell in love with you. Now, you want to just be friends.”
“But that’s the problem, isn’t it. Don’t pretend not to remember that I told you this was not about love. It was only ever supposed to be an arrangement between friends. You swore that you wouldn’t make it about love.”
“I’m sorry I can’t be an unfeeling machine like you.” He turned away to hide his tears.
“That isn’t fair,” Lizzie whispered.
He wiped his cheeks quickly. “No. But it isn’t fair to expect me not to feel like we had something growing, when you seem to be so happy with me. None of this was fair, right from the start was it?” He looked at her, red blotches spreading across his face. “Why am I not good enough? What is it you’re looking for, Lizzie?”
“I'm...” Lizzie started speaking, but she didn't know what to say. “Duke...”
His head dropped into his hands.
“You’re right. It’s fucked up. It’s not fair.” She slipped out of the bedding and pulled her underwear and bra on. Why couldn’t she be happy with this amazing guy and his love for her? Would she ever find someone she wasn’t just settling for? Or using to scratch an itch. It hurt her to hurt him. But she had warned him, so it was all his fault. He had ruined a great thing. If anything, she was less attracted to him now, since he’d started looking at her with his love goggles on.
“Don’t get me wrong, Duke,” she said, steeling herself. “The sex was great. You should make some other girl very happy one day.” She stepped into her flannel lined jeans and the ugly snow boots she wore outside.
He stared at her. His still naked body was chiseled and muscular like a sculpture. He wasn’t cold and hard like marble, though, he was warm and soft (mostly) and fun. But he wasn’t for her.
She clenched her jaw and pulled her T-shirt on over her head. “I said I was sorry, what more do you want?”
Mannie tried to raise his head off the floor. He could hear knocking. He pushed himself to his knees and the world spun. The couch spun up to hit the side of his face. He felt a scraping of skin on the rough cloth of the couch.
The banging grew louder.
“Dad!”
Shit. Lizzie. Your father’s a fucking drunk.
He heard a key in the lock. The knob turned, but the door didn’t open.
“Undo the deadbolt.” Lizzie yelled. “I need you.”
¡Dios mio! He pushed himself forward toward the door. His arms barely obeyed. The carpet slammed into his face where he’d scraped it on the couch.
“Lizzie. Coming.” Just a few more feet and then he could pull himself up on the knob.
It took all his control to get his hand onto the knob. Then he pulled himself up. He slid his other hand up the door to the deadbolt, flipped it and slid down the textured wall, tearing skin off his shoulder. The floor stopped him as the door shoved passed him. His stomach churned and his body clenched, trying to throw up what wasn’t in his stomach. Lizzie rolled him over on his side and then things went black.
He woke in a rainstorm, leaning against a wall. When he managed to open his eyes, he realized that Lizzie had hauled him into the shower with his icky clothes on. The bathroom lights burned his eyeballs and he closed them.
“Lizzie? You there?”
“Yeah. I’m here. Are you?”
He tried to laugh but the acid taste in his mouth made him gag. He opened his mouth to the water pouring down.
“Jesus, Daddy. You don’t do much half-way.”
After a minute he turned to the wall, grabbing a towel as he pushed himself up. He spit in the shower and stepped out onto the bathmat.
“You said you needed me?” he asked, scrubbing his face on the rough towel.
“Yeah. Evidently, not as bad as you need me.” She laughed. “There's a line and I crowded to the front. When I'm done with you, the office wants you.”
“Ay, dios mio.” He wasn’t in any state to go to the office. But it wasn’t like you could call in sick to the end of the world.
“Yeah.” Lizzie handed him another towel. “I figured it was important if they'd call me. I'll be outside if you need anything. Coffee? Ibuprofen?”
Mannie almost nodded, but then thought better of it. “Yeah. Both. Thanks.”
She pulled the door shut behind her and Mannie collapsed onto the toilet. “Maria, madre de dios.” After a minute of eyes closed grounding, letting himself feel all of the pain and discomfort, he took a deep breath and reached for the cup by the sink and filled it. Water was the first thing he needed. He stood, steadying himself on the sink and drank it down slow. Then he refilled it and had another sip.
He climbed back in the shower without clothes.
Ten minutes later he heard a knock at the door. “Coffee's hot and sugared. I think the ibuprofen is in there.” Lizzie handed him the coffee with an amused look on her face.
“I know. I'm paying for my sins,” he said.
“I just hope I don't have to pay for the sins of my father.”
“Just pay for your own.” He pulled the painkiller from the cupboard and popped a few in his mouth. He downed the rest of the water and then followed up with some coffee.
“You want me to drive you to work?” Concern shadowed her face.
“You think you're up for that?” he asked. “How are you doing on the stick shift?”
“Ouch. I've been practicing. The clutch is still a little challenging. I figured I could give you some laughs.”
“Not sure my head can stand much jostling, but thanks.”
“Then I’ll ride with you to work.”
He felt better by the time he climbed into Rubi, though his body and head still protested. Work was the last place he wanted to be.
Lizzie watched him carefully as he turned the key, though she didn’t say anything, her fingers were chasing each other around.
“I’m fine to drive,” he said. “Hungover, but not drunk.” Was he telling the truth? Bombarded by his brain’s hypersensitivity, he was painfully aware of the world around him. And it was only a half mile, city driving.
“I’m not judging,” she said; lacing her twitchy fingers together, as if she was ready to pray.
They rode in silence for a few minutes, but it was clear that something else was bothering her. “You seem a little perple
xed.”
“Perplexed?” Lizzie took a deep breath in and then let out in a whoosh. “How'd you know mom was the one? Or did you? How about Isabel?”
Isabel—like a punch to the stomach. He gripped the steering wheel tighter, but held it together. “Just a little question, huh?” He thought about it for a while. “I thought I knew with both of them. And others. It felt right. But it’s not something I can explain. I would say if you really think someone is the one, then they are. No need to overthink it.” It grated on him to tell her to go for it with whatever guy she was talking about—probably Duke. But he wasn’t going to be the dad who hated all the boyfriends. Duke seemed a decent fellow.
Lizzie didn't say anything.
Mannie glanced across at her. “You okay?”
“Yeah. Probably.” She gave him a tight smile. “No worse than usual.”
When they arrived at the government offices, his head felt closer to normal. He hopped out and opened her door for her. “I love you, Elizabeth. I wish I had better advice in the relationship department. Pretty ironic if I'm the relationship expert for the next generation.” He pulled her into his arms and held her, relishing the feeling of being needed by his daughter until she released him.
“I love you, too. I think I want to go home. But I don't know where that is.”
“Well, if you figure it out, let me know. I'll come with you.” This time. Nothing could stop him this side of death.
“Go. Get to work. I'm going for a walk.”
“Good idea. Come by later if you want to talk more.”
“I will.” She walked away down the snow-lined sidewalk.
He wished he could just go for a walk with her, but people were counting on him. He sighed at went inside.
Nev glanced up, as he walked through the door to his office. “They want you now, Mannie.”
“Thanks. I just need to get my thoughts in order. Any hints on what's going on?”
“Power, of course. They've got somebody else waiting to meet with you, too. An engineer.”
“Good.” Mannie sifted through the notes on his desk. “Hopefully he can help with the Delta solar plant.” His hands stacked the notes into one rectangular pile and placed them in the middle of the desk facing the chair. “Okay. I'm going in.”
Nev smirked. “Am I supposed to say, 'I'll cover you,' or what?” She put her hands together like a gun, pointing her index fingers at the ceiling.
“Could you bring me in this pile of paperwork and coffee in about fifteen minutes if I'm not out of there?”
“That's more my style. Good luck.” Her eyes went back to her paperwork.
Mannie felt dismissed. Nev was a great asset in the office. Too bad she and Lizzie couldn't grow up and get over their relationship garbage.
Mannie swept into the conference room. “Sorry. Babysitting last night and a rough morning. What have we got?”
DiSilvio motioned toward a nervous looking man, who was squinting at Mannie over his reading glasses. “This is Dr. Packard. He helped us switch over systems to the natural gas. He can bring you up to speed on the recent outages. And he's agreed to try to help with the Delta switch-over.”
“You're the engineer?” Mannie asked.
Dr. Packard glanced back down at the papers in front of him. “Theoretical until now. Geologist mainly. Underground research: aquifers, mines...”
“We need a power man,” Mannie said, “who knows how the electrical power grid works.”
Dr. Packard shrugged and shuffled his papers. “I'm what you've got. Let me tell you what I do know. The first power outage occurred when the Chalk Creek basin was depleted. Not a big surprise, it was tiny. Now this one is probably because the Coalville basin is empty. Now we’ve got Leroy and Clay Basins. Leroy is about as big as Coalville was. Clay is about 10 times bigger. So, we should still be fine for the time being.”
“'Should still be fine' does not offer me much comfort,” Mannie said, trying to keep his voice low.
Mr. Ray nodded. “That's why we need to flip over the solar plant in Delta for our electrical needs. The sun's not going out anytime soon.”
Mannie shivered at that thought—after everything else, why not?
DiSilvio stood, leaning forward on the table. “We need to make sure we’ve got control of it there and can manage it here.” He spun on Foote. “How many troops do we have and how ready are they to be deployed?”
Foote chuckled humorlessly. “What do you want me to say?”
“The truth, Foote.” DiSilvio’s face reddened. “Are you making fun of me?”
“No, Tony.” Foote raised his hands in mock defense. “We’ve had 3 weeks of training. Basic Training in the U.S. Army takes ten weeks and that's working with kids who want to be there, or who have at least passed MEPS tests.” He shook his head grimly. “My men are entirely ready to capture an empty solar plant. But not more than a dozen are ready to face an armed enemy.”
“Luckily,” Mr. Ray's grandfatherly calm interjected, “I don’t think that’s likely. The only place we’ve felt any heat is up north.”
Foote sat back. “Yes. If our luck holds.”
Mr. Ray smiled gently. “The harder we work the luckier we get.”
“Mr. Ray,” DiSilvio pushed his seat back and sat on the front edge. “Will you give the order?”
“If Mr. Foote agrees, but I want to go on record that this is a peaceful mission. We will send out militia, but we will not fire unless fired upon. And we will abort if we find the plant defended.”
Mannie scrutinized Foote; he had trusted him since Foote let him go find Lizzie, but he still wasn’t sure where he stood in terms of the new nation state forming around them.
Foote took a breath and blew it out. “Yeah. Let's do it.” He stood. “Mannie, come with me.”
“Yes, sir,” Mannie said automatically.
“One more thing, Foote,” DiSilvio said. “Mr. Ray and I would like to make you our general.”
Foote’s jaw clenched. “I am not your fucking general.”
Mannie looked to Mr. Ray and DiSilvio. Couldn’t they see how bad an idea this was? Mr. Ray had the class to be shocked. DiSilvio’s eyes narrowed, but he did not look appeased.
“If and when we have 5,000 troops,” Foote said in low measured tones. “I may consider accepting the position.” He collapsed into the chair. “However, since I want to promote the men below me who have earned it, I had better let you promote me first. Colonel would be appropriate considering our level of enlistment.”
“Very well,” Mr. Ray said, “Colonel Foote, thank you for accepting the promotion.”
Foote turned to Mannie. “Sorry, Mannie. Your first promotion. Gentlemen, please approve a rank increase for Major Guerrero.”
Shit. Mannie straightened. “Yes, sir, Colonel Foote.”
“Let’s go, Mannie.”
Mr. Ray waved them off as he turned back to DiSilvio, “Well, Tony? What did I do wrong this time?”
Foote closed the door behind Mannie. “I'm not taking you with me.” His hand came up as Mannie opened his mouth. “I'll feel better if you're here.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Since when did you start calling me, Sir?”
“Since it started to feel like war.”
Chapter Twenty-Six
LIZZIE AND DUKE WALKED ALONG the wall of the city, made up of trucks and storage containers. There were gaps, they weren't going to keep anyone out yet, human or otherwise, the wall was beyond symbolic at this point. The council had decided to fill up the gaps when Mr. Ray had convinced enough of the people to move inside the new city zone.
Betsy called it boiling frogs. “You can’t put frogs into a pot of boiling water, or they’ll jump out. But if you turn up the heat a notch at a time…”
They were walking toward the next major gap in the wall, and the silence was crawling under her skin. Lizzie reached for Duke's hand and he pulled it away.
Duke stared straight ahead. “You wanted to talk. Tal
k.”
“Duke.”
“Lizzie?”
She wasn’t going to put up with his shit. This was exactly what she was trying to avoid. Awkward silences and damaged relationships. What had possessed her to think she could separate sex from the relationship stuff? Was she really that hard up? Or just lonely?
His pace was swift. She had to hoof it to keep up. The sun faded on the white-tipped mountains, turning them a calm shade of pale pink.
“Hey, look at that,” Duke’s head gestured up ahead.
Someone with a rifle sat in a lawn chair in the middle of the street, right at the gap. “A nut?”
“Let’s go see.”
A teen-aged boy, lanky and tall, but still smooth cheeked, greeted them. “Howdy, folks.”
“What’s up, dude?” Duke raised his eyebrow.
“People aren’t supposed to come around here. Dangerous.”
Duke’s attention perked up.
“What’s dangerous?” he asked the kid with the gun.
“Same as everywhere: Independents, coyotes, cougars, wild dogs. This part of town seems to be where the dog packs have run to.”
“Why’s that?”
The kid shrugged. “Who knows? More bodies?”
“Who’s got you out here?”
“Mr. DiSilvio’s orders.”
“Seems like a pretty chill assignment,” Lizzie said, motioning to the lawn chair and the bottle of beer.
“Yep.”
“Let’s go.” Lizzie wrapped her arm around Duke’s bicep and tugged him further down the street.
“You folks have a good evening.”
“You, too,” Duke said, letting Lizzie lead him. Up ahead in the distance, he saw the shimmer of a gas camp lantern. “Hhhhmmm… There’s another one.”
“This is weird.”
“Why’s it weird?”
“Guards on a side street. Spaced just evenly that people don’t get past them? I thought the purpose of the wall was to keep out the bad things, not lock us in.”
“Your paranoia must be exhausting.” He stopped. “I’m tired, Lizzie. Say what you wanted to say already.”
Deserted Lands (Book 2): Straight Into Darkness Page 22
