by A. R. Shaw
It was pitch dark now, and even though he had to stop occasionally to check to make sure he was still on course, he made progress, but too slowly. He pushed away his despair, and the anger over what he knew they’d do to Tala.
Just as he began to pick up speed, bright headlights dawned in his rearview mirror, flashing at him. They must have had their headlights off and only then flashed him, creeping up in the distance. It was too late for Graham to make a defensive move as the vehicle pulled around him, cutting him off. Graham grabbed his rifle, ready to shoot, when he realized it was the preppers, suited up, driving a Humvee. Dalton put up his hand in what he hoped Graham would take as a sign of peace.
“Get out of my way!” Graham yelled.
“We’re trying to help you!” the prepper in the passenger seat yelled back. Though the voice came distorted through the suit, Graham thought he recognized it. “Dalton?” he said, confused.
“Yes, it’s me. Get in the back. Hurry, there’s little time.”
Graham grabbed his rifle and ran over to the other vehicle. Some of the pieces of the mysterious prepper community were falling into place, but he didn’t have time to reflect on it now. He jumped into the backseat of the Humvee and they sped off into the distance without their lights on.
“I think I saw their taillights up ahead. You know they have Tala, right?” Graham asked.
“Yes. We’re tracking her now, so try to stay calm. We’ll get Tala back, but you need to let us help you. This is Sam, and—well, you know me,” Dalton said.
“Yes, I do, and later we will talk about why you didn’t say it was you in the first place,” Graham said, clearly upset. “Those fuckers grabbed one of the twins first. Tala traded herself,” he added, continuing to curse the situation.
“We’ll do what we can. You have to keep in mind, we’re still susceptible to the virus you carry so if something happens to either of our suits, do not approach us, all right?” Dalton said.
“All right.”
“Are there just the two men?” Sam asked.
“As far as I know. I don’t know if there are any more in their camp. Three came by canoe from across the lake one night, but we took one out. It seems you already know that though. Son of a bitch! This is my fault. I should have wasted all of them that night,” Graham said.
“Stop it, Graham. We’ve watched it all. This isn’t your fault,” Dalton said.
Graham went on torturing himself. “I should have kept them in the damn cabin!”
Sam spoke up then. “Look, Graham, can you see this screen?” He tapped a gloved finger on a glowing device on the front seat.
“Yeah?” Graham said as he watched two little sets of numbers moving forward, one gaining on the other.
“This one is Tala,” Sam said, indicating the farthest one out.
“And the other one is me? You shits!” Graham said incredulously. “You can’t just fucking tag someone just because you can,” he added.
“The point is, this one is Tala,” Sam said, and Graham was relieved to see some connection to her there.
“Here’s the plan,” Dalton said.
48
The Accident
“Stop fighting me, bitch,” the big one said, as he tried to shove his hand down the front of Tala’s pants. Clearly frustrated, he yelled to the driver, “Hurry up, man.”
“I told you, she’s mine first,” the driver said, and shoved him to make his point, knocking Tala along with him. She leaned forward, grabbing the dashboard, trying to get away from the shoving match as the driver swerved and then overcorrected as they slid in the snow, causing the jeep to tip sideways as it careened off the road. It flipped over twice before coming to a complete stop, throwing all three occupants free. When it landed it caught fire.
Graham and the preppers saw the fire from a distance and sped faster over the snowy road, almost to the point of recklessness, saying nothing to one another. They didn’t know what to make of the scene before them, lit by the jeep fire when the three exited the Humvee. Tala lay face down in the center of the road, not moving. Her left leg was at an odd angle, definitely broken in the crash. Graham rushed toward her as Sam yelled, “Wait!”
They scanned the area and detected no movement. One man lay half under the burning jeep. On further inspection, he clearly proved to have died on impact, with his head gashed open and his brains exposed. There was no sign of the other. Dalton nodded for Graham to go to Tala’s aid, and Graham checked her pulse and found that she was breathing, but she had obviously been knocked unconscious. Graham was afraid to move her.
It was pitch dark in the perimeter around the burning jeep and headlights of the Humvee, so Sam stood guard. Dalton checked Tala out and decided it just couldn’t be helped. They needed to just lift her, despite the badly broken leg, and get her into the Humvee before she died right there.
Graham put his arm under her, and Dalton helped flip her over so that Graham could pick her up. She had a bad gash on her forehead that was bleeding copiously.
They started for the Humvee when the hair on the back of Sam’s neck started to rise. He turned around quickly and saw the second intruder pulling himself up, aiming at Dalton and Graham. Sam fired but not before the man also fired off a round, aiming at the last second for Sam.
“Sam!” Dalton yelled as he watched the man recoil from the hit. Graham saw the intruder aim yet again, but at Dalton this time. Graham dropped to one knee, with Tala to his left, and pulled his rifle up. He shot the other man squarely between the eyes, leaving no question of his death.
“I think I’m okay,” Sam said. Dalton looked at his side; the shot had clearly shredded his hazmat suit but hadn’t come into contact with Sam himself. “That’s a fucking miracle,” Dalton said, feeling pretty damn lucky. But before he got back into the truck, Dalton got the emergency tape to patch up the suit to decrease Sam’s risk of contamination.
Dalton drove quickly back to the preppers’ camp. They needed to assess Tala’s injuries and at least set her leg in a cast before they took her and Graham back to Graham’s camp.
“We have a decision to make,” Dalton said, looking at Graham in the rearview mirror. “We don’t take carriers into our camp because it’s too risky. I hope you can understand that.”
Graham just looked at the man through the rearview mirror. Cradling Tala in his lap, he’d managed to straighten up her clothes as best he could, anger curdling in his veins as he did. The swelling in her leg remained a problem, and she clearly had a concussion.
“Look, she’s hurt really bad. She might even have internal injuries. Is there someone you have who can look at her?” Graham asked.
Dalton looked at Sam. “Call Clarisse, Sam. Maybe she’s got a suggestion.”
“Hi, Dalton, what is it?” Clarisse asked urgently, knowing that if he summoned her it was a medical emergency.
“We’re going to need another quarantine room. Sam’s suit was compromised, but we don’t think he was exposed. It’s taped now, and the female has several injuries. She has a leg fracture, concussion, and possible internal injuries from a car accident,” Dalton said.
“Dalton,” she said in a soothing voice, feeling his desperation through the line. “You know we made rules against bringing them here. I’m not against it, but you know you’re risking direct exposure to us all. As it is, we only have three rooms. I’ll have to let the guys out early. You and Sam will need to have separate ones since he’s at risk. Then, she will need the last one. I don’t think that’s a problem, but where do we stop breaking the protocols we set in place for the carriers? Again, I’m not against this, I just want you to be certain that this is what you want.”
“I hear you, and I understand.” Dalton glanced back at Tala in the backseat. “Get it ready, please—and thank you, Clarisse.”
49
Bad News
She ran the test again and again. Clarisse knew it wouldn’t come back any differently than the seven times before. She had to tell him
now. She’d gone through every scenario, and there was just no other way. Dalton lay staring up at the ceiling. “Yes, Clarisse,” he said, knowing she was staring at him. He could always feel her presence, no matter where she was. He didn’t understand this, since he was a happily married man, but there it was.
“There’s news,” Clarisse said.
He knew something was wrong. She looked like she hadn’t slept in days, even though she was in quarantine herself. Having operated on Tala, she confined herself to the lab. Her chestnut hair hung loose down around her shoulders. He’d never seen it out of its tight bun.
“What is it?” Dalton said as he came to the window.
“Sam. He’s been exposed.”
“What do you mean?”
“He’s not showing symptoms, but he’s a carrier now,” she said.
“Are you sure?” he asked in disbelief.
“Yes!” she said, and broke down. He’d never seen that happen before.
“God dammit!” Dalton yelled, thinking of Sam’s now orphaned daughter.
“Does he know?”
Clarisse was still crying.
“Clarisse, does he know?” Dalton asked again.
“No,” she answered, shaking her head. “I thought I should tell you first.”
50
Reunited
Graham carried Tala into the cabin carefully. They’d spent five days at the preppers’ camp while Tala recovered from her injuries and the horrific ordeal. When she came to, Graham held her close while she cried.
He kissed her, “I love you, Tala. I’m so sorry this happened,” he said. She held onto him, crying into his shoulder.
She had a fractured leg, and her right shoulder had been dislocated. Clarisse had examined her fully and then had a frank talk with her about how lucky she’d been in spite of what she went through.
The two women hit it off, and Clarisse said that she wished Tala had not been a carrier because she was someone she felt she could be real friends with. Tala felt the same, but was happy when they said it was time for them to go back, because she missed the children—and even Ennis.
Graham laid her down on the bunk, taking extra care to arrange her leg and arm, both in casts, carefully. Fully medicated against the pain, Tala smiled up at him. “I’m okay,” she said.
He moved some of her hair out of her face. Then a very concerned Macy brought Tala a glass of water, pushing Graham out of the way. He gave the two some privacy, knowing Macy wanted to thank Tala for what she’d done for her. Tala hugged the girl, whose tears were streaming down her cheeks, then wiped them away for her and said to her in a strong voice, while holding her chin up, “I’m fine, Macy—really.”
“I know they hurt you,” Macy said as she began to sob even more.
Tala held the girl to herself, letting her cry. “Yes, they did, but there was no way I was going to let them take you, Macy, and no matter what they did to me, I know I did the right thing. Do you hear me? I love you as if you were my own child.” Tala pulled Macy up to look her in the eyes again. “It doesn’t matter what happened. What matters is that you were safe from them. You are the one who needs to go on. That’s what is important to me.”
“Thank you, Tala,” Macy said.
“You don’t need to thank me.” Tala smiled at the girl and kissed her on her cheek.
51
The Cost
Two weeks later, Sam and Graham tracked down two does through the deep snow in the east forest. Sam showed Graham how to rig up a carrier sled using boughs from the pine trees so they could easily pull the two kills along behind them, making it a lot easier than carting them manually back to camp.
“I’ve got a date in fifteen minutes, Graham,” Sam said.
“Okay, Sam, see you back at the cabin.” Graham watched as the quiet man went on his way.
Sam walked quietly across the frozen forest floor, breaking a deep snow path as it became necessary until he came to the rendezvous spot alongside the Skagit River, partly covered in ice. The sound of the rushing water was almost overpowering this time of year. He brushed the ice off a boulder and sat, waiting. He removed the small wood carving of the fawn he’d made for her this time, tossing it skillfully to land at the base of the pine across the river.
Soon he saw her coming, riding on Dalton’s shoulders. Dalton had promised to take care of the girl as if she were his own. He sat Addy down on her feet, dressed in a pink snowsuit with her hands in gloves and her hat pulled down. She was well cared for, and Sam waved at his daughter as she waved back.
“Hi, Daddy,” she said, shouting over the rushing water.
“Hi, darlin’,” he said, wishing he could hold her in his arms; the ache was never ending. “I put a present by the tree,” he said. Dalton pulled out the baggie and gave it to her, as usual. She ran over, excited to retrieve the gift. She knew to grab it through the baggie so Dalton could sterilize it before she could have it. The process would make the blond wood turn darker, but she didn’t mind. She loved all the little creatures he made for her woodland collection.
“How was school today?” he asked her.
“It was good. I drew you a picture. I sent it to you,” she said.
“I bet it’s real pretty. I’ll be sure to look at it as soon as I get back,” Sam assured her.
“I love you, Daddy,” Addy said.
“I love you too, baby. See you tomorrow.”
Addy turned around, reaching for Dalton’s outstretched hand. Dalton waved at Sam and he waved back, then Sam watched as they retreated back the way they came. When Sam could no longer see the pair, he turned and walked back to Graham’s camp.
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Continue the Journey
Graham’s Resolution
The China Pandemic
The Cascade Preppers
The Last Infidels
The Malefic Nation
The Bitter Earth
The Wild West
The Last Goodbye
Dedicated to my friends and family, those that put up with the hermit in their midst.
1
October 31, 2030
Coeur d’Alene, Idaho
Lying on her blanket-strewn queen-sized bed, the one she’d once shared with Roger, Maeve dreamed. He was there again…with her, laughing as she complained about him leaving his coffee cups everywhere in the garage growing islands of fluffy green mold. “It wouldn’t kill you to put them in the dishwasher yourself, you know.”
Levering open the dishwasher door, she made a show of turning the dirty mug upside down and placing it on the top rack. “See, it’s that easy. Even easy enough for you to do.” He grabbed her around the waist and tickled her until she squealed.
“Easy, huh?” But the tone of his voice meant something entirely different than the ease of washing moldy mugs.
But as she glanced down, pasty blood covered his camo trousers, causing them to turn a shade of puce as the red mingled with the brown. She begged him to release her and knew the deceit of the scene then.
As he quickly lifted her up into his embrace, she stole one last look into his eyes before the dream faded and he was snatched from her again. Before he left her, she reached up and pressed her hands against his rough cheeks, engulfing him so that she would remember him this time, the feel of his pressed lips to hers. She held the illusion even as his form began to dissipate no matter how hard she willed to hang on to him. “I love you. Don’t leave me.”
Her hand moved over the soft, rumpled sheets then, in the space he should have been but would never be again. Burying her face into the covers, she sobbed as dawn brought yet another day with the realization she’d lost him forever.
“Mom?”
Maeve wiped away the tears before she turned to her six-year-old son standing in the doorway. “Good morning, Ben. I’ll be up in just a second, buddy.”
“You were dreaming again. I heard you.”
Like many mornings bef
ore, she needed to divert the conversation, or they’d both end up in turmoil with past memories and ghosts haunting them throughout the day. “Hey,” she said, “you have a Halloween party today, right?”
“Uh huh,” he said as he padded barefoot to her bedside. She pulled him closer. Ben’s little boy smell still made her ache. His features were so like Roger’s, set in miniature. His dark hair and brown eyes were the color of milk chocolate. She adored that Ben resembled his father more than herself. At least she had a permanent part of her dead husband after all.
She brushed her son’s overgrown bangs out of his eyes then hugged him tighter. She knew he sensed her sadness. Fending off her emotions, she needed to pull strength from somewhere else deep inside for the both of them today. This was the wrong way to start the day; she knew that by repetition.
Drawing a smile to her lips, she kissed him. “Go get your cowboy costume on and I’ll get in the shower. Scoot.”
“OK, can I have cereal for breakfast this morning?”
“That would be far too much sugar with class treats later today. How about some oatmeal instead?”
He nodded and then sprinted down the carpeted hallway to his bedroom as she yelled, “Walk please.”
Resigned to the fact that she now had to start the day, Maeve sat up and pulled her legs over the side of the bed. Running her hands through her long red hair, she tried to pull her wild mane behind her. In doing so, she glanced at the picture on her bedside table. The image with her and Roger and the infant Ben. The proud parents that somehow made this miracle stared back out at her with perfectly drawn happiness in their expressions; not a hint of tragedy marred their faces.
