Blood Run – The Complete Trilogy – First Promise, Two Riders, Last Chance

by Dougherty, Christine

  Lu asked Promise to open her mouth, and he looked down her throat. “Do you have a sore throat? Headache?”

  She shook her head no, and Lu put a thermometer in her mouth as Evans draped a blanket around her shoulders. Promise began to feel foolish. Babied. Lu took the thermometer from her mouth and squinted at the tiny numbers.

  “Ninety-nine…not too bad. You probably have a low-grade virus,” Lu said. He gripped her wrist. “Your heart is fine. You still feel light-headed?”

  She shook her head no.

  He dug into the kit and came out with three aspirin. “These’ll knock down the fever,” he said and turned to Miller. “Nothing to be worried about. It just has to run its course. She should probably ride in one of the Humvees, though. Being out in the elements will just prolong it.”

  “Thanks, Lu,” Promise said and rose to her feet. She tossed the aspirin into her mouth and washed it down with the water Miller handed her. “But I’m not going in the Humvee. I’m staying with Ash. And Peter.”

  Lu shrugged and then dug in his coat pocket. “Your choice,” he said and handed her two bars. “Eat these, though, as you’re riding. You want to keep food in your system. That will keep you warmer and keep your blood sugar steady; keep you from feeling faint again.”

  Evans and Peter spoke at the same time.

  Evans started to say, “Promise, you have to go in the Humvee–”

  Just as Peter said, “Promise, you better ride in the Humvee–”

  They glanced at each other with caution. Miller snorted. “Well, at least you two can agree on something,” she said, and Billet laughed.

  Evans shot him a warning look, and Billet’s laugh died in his throat.

  Then Evans turned to Promise. He looked at her a long time, and she looked back, steady-eyed and calm. Finally, she smiled, her head tilted. “Hey, what’s your first name? I don’t want to call you ‘Evans’ all the time.”

  He remained grave as he studied her. Then he cupped her face in his hands. “I can’t make you ride in the Humvee, and neither can Peter. But I can tell you that I think you should. Even though I know you’re not going to.” His face was soft and open, but his eyes were still intense. “And I want you to remember something else. If you need anything, ever…you think of me first. Promise?”

  She smiled again and nodded. Her hands came up to his. “I promise.”

  He continued to study her, and after a long moment, he kissed her forehead. He sensed/heard Peter shift from foot to foot behind them.

  As Evans pulled back, a fleeting pain ran across his features. But Promise didn’t see it. “My name is Cory, but I hate it,” he said, and his lips turned up on one side. “You can call me Ev, okay? Friends call me Ev.”

  “Okay…Ev,” she said and squeezed his fingers.

  “Jesus,” Miller said and rolled her eyes, breaking the moment. She turned back to the lead Humvee. “Let’s roll,” she said, and her eyes grazed Peter’s as she spoke. “Hillsborough isn’t getting any closer.”

  Peter helped Promise find her seat on Ash, steadying her until she had both feet firmly in the stirrups. “You’re okay?” he asked, his hand squeezing her calf.

  She nodded, and he noticed that her face was warm with color. “Promise, are you sure you’re okay? If you want to ride in one of the Humvees–”

  “No. I want to ride with you. I’m just…I feel embarrassed. I–” She gathered the reins, bunching them nervously in her fingers. Peter waited. “You were the one who should have been upset. I should have been listening to you, but instead I turned it into a big mess, and then with Ev…Evans coming over like that, and…” She shook her head, her hair swaying like heavy velvet curtains over her face, hiding her dismay.

  “Promise,” he said. “It’s my fault for what I’ve been putting you through. I should have been paying more attention. I didn’t realize you were getting sick, and I really didn’t understand how confusing it was–everything I was telling you about Trisha. Or maybe I did realize. But I’m confused, too.” He smiled sadly. “It’s a strange time, and everything seems broken and unbelievable. Nothing is the way it should be. You should be thinking about your prom, and I should be pushing a stroller through the mall.” He looked at the Humvees rolling away. “Maybe this was a bad idea,” he said and sighed. “But when I saw how much you wanted to help Chance, how it meant everything to you, it made me think about the baby. If she’d been a toddler, if she’d been turned, I’d do the same thing. That’s why I wanted to help.” He squeezed her calf. “That and, also, I really like you; right from the first time I saw you, I liked you. In Wereburg, we decided to start off as friends, remember?”

  She nodded, her eyes finally meeting his.

  “We’re more than friends. But it will just take time to get things figured out. With this new world the way it is, we have to come up with new rules for…everything.”

  She nodded her understanding. And she did understand. As much as she still felt, at times, like her old self–Destiny Riser: sister, daughter, schoolgirl–she had changed, and there was no way to deny her new self or the new rules she had chosen to live by. Once she’d adopted the name ‘Promise’ and decided to embrace everything her new name implied…

  She’d changed forever.

  Chapter 6

  Princeton was beautiful, more beautiful than Promise could have imagined. Even uninhabited, run down, and left to the elements, the buildings, the trees, the little shops, and ornate old houses…it was like a dream of what American should be. The only thing that spoiled the scene was the occasional, desiccated carcass and the pervading feeling of loneliness. This had once been a busy, exciting place, you could tell just by looking at it. But now the cold wind hooted and whooped down the empty alleyways, and glass littered the sidewalks, glittering in the winter sun. The sound of the Humvee engines and horses’ hooves bounced back hollowly from the old stone and brick facades, making it seem as though their small contingent was trailed by a retinue of unhappy ghosts.

  They’d been uncomfortable at Hillsborough the night before because they’d had to cram into a small house on the outskirts of the town. The bales of messages and instructions the Guard was responsible for delivering had had to be left outside the doors of the warehouse that had been colonized by the people of the Hillsborough outpost. They were battling a strain of the flu so virulent that they’d already lost six people–four elderly and two children–and expected more fatalities in the days to come. They couldn’t let the Guardsmen into the building.

  As Billet, Lu, and Evans had scrambled to make the house on the outskirts safe for the night, Miller had explained to Peter and Promise that the warehouse had been a bad choice for colonization. And the Hillsborough people had never bothered to set up safe houses, so now most of them were stuck in the warehouse, breathing each other’s germs, getting sicker and sicker by the day.

  Promise had asked if they couldn’t get some medication back to Hillsborough, and Miller had explained that it could be done, that it most certainly would be done, but time was not on Hillsborough’s side. They would lose a quarter of their population–and most of their heart–before the Guard could come back this way.

  Between the tight quarters and the shock of seeing the drained, ethereal faces of the residents, no one–save the horses–had slept well that night. It seemed their trip was becoming unluckier the further they went.

  Seeing Princeton that next day had raised Promise’s spirits, but only by a fraction. She still battled her own virus and had to keep taking aspirin to keep the fever in check. But at least what she had was not the flu. She would survive a headache and cough.

  Tonight, they would make Hightstown and then tomorrow…the military base and hopefully, the cure for her little brother. Of course they would have a cure and of course she would carry it triumphantly back to Chance. It would be her reward for taking this difficult journey in the first place. That’s how it worked in books, anyway.

  After eight days on the road
, it seemed unbelievable that it was coming to an end. Unimaginable that her end goal was finally in sight. She knew she should have been excited, nervous with anticipation…but that night, bedded down in a barn just past Hightstown, curled in the warm circle of Peter’s arms, she’d slept more deeply than she had since she’d started her journey. The sense of something ending, the feeling of relief it brought, calmed her mind into neutral.

  She didn’t even dream. Not that she remembered, anyway.

  In the night, her fever broke.

  Chapter 7

  The Humvees kept speeding up, like children unable to control themselves the nearer they got to the gates of Disney. It was late afternoon, and the woods closed in tightly on both sides of the thin ribbon of blacktop that would take them to the base. They’d already passed the sign that read:

  WELCOME TO THE FORT REAGAN MILITARY BASE, NEW JERSEY • THIS IS GOVERNMENT PROPERTY AND TRESPASSING IS A FEDERAL OFFENSE • I.D. CHECK 100% NO EXCEPTIONS • LIVE ROUNDS IN USE

  The sign was half rotted, the painted letters faded, yet it still conveyed a sense of stern reproach. The guardhouse was empty. As she and Peter rode past, Promise looked past the door that hung from one hinge and into the small building. Yellowed, cotton batting had been pulled from the seat of a chair and piled in a corner. Rats or maybe an opossum had made a comfortable home there. Even the nest looked deserted, though.

  Finally, the trees opened up, and they came upon row after row of what looked like barracks buildings. These, too, looked deserted. A twist of nerves began to tighten Promise’s stomach. She shivered, and Ash threw his head up and down in agitation. She realized she was squeezing him while simultaneously pulling back on the rein. She relaxed and patted his neck.

  “Sorry, big guy,” she said. “My fault.” She realized she was whispering.

  “What’s wrong?” Peter asked. His voice, too, was low.

  “Nothing, I guess,” Promise said and tried to smile. “It just looks deserted. You don’t think…” she trailed off, not wanting to finish the thought.

  He shook his head and smiled. “No, we’re fine. This is what it looks like here. These barracks used to house soldiers when this was a true military base. See that one there, the fifth one? It has the fluorescent X’s all over it…just like you guys put on safe houses in Wereburg. They do the same thing here. I didn’t realize it when I was here before, but they must have gotten the idea from Mr. West.”

  Promise was comforted by the X’s and their evidence of close-by habitation. But she still felt uneasy. It seemed so desolate here.

  The woods closed in again, and the sun skated over the tops of the leafless trees and scrub pines, beginning its tumble to the horizon. The light was leaving the day.

  The road curved west. The woods opened up again, and the setting sun shone down on a large, three-story building that sprawled the length of a football field or better. The red crosses gave away its former life: this had been the base hospital.

  The Humvees gathered speed, and Promise and Peter had to kick the horses into a canter, but even then, they couldn’t keep up. As the Humvees neared the turnaround at the front entrance of the hospital, six soldiers emerged from the building. They fanned out, running, and formed a line between the riders and the Humvees.

  They had crossbows trained on Promise and Peter.

  Promise drew Ash up short fifteen yards from the soldiers, and Snow snorted to a halt under Peter. Miller jumped from the first Humvee and spoke to one of the line soldiers, gesturing to the riders. A muffled order was given, and the crossbows dropped in unison. The soldiers relaxed and turned to the Humvees. Miller turned and waved her arm in a ‘come on’ gesture to Peter and Promise.

  Promise looked askance at Peter, and he nodded. “It’ll be okay,” he said. “They just didn’t know what we were all about.” He pulled Snow around in a circle and smiled at Promise. “You’re going to like it here. It’s a lot like the way things used to be.”

  She tilted her head at him, confused. His smile widened, and he kicked Snow into a trot. “Come on,” he said. “You’ll see what I mean.”

  Promise hesitated, unsure, watching the soldiers she knew from the trip mingling with the ones from the base who she didn’t. More people had emerged from the building: some soldiers, some civilians. Initial smiles turned to grim faces as the news of the deaths of Riker and Shields was passed around. As Peter rode up and dismounted, one of the civilians detached from the group and walked to where Peter stood. Even from a distance, Promise read the tension in their meeting.

  Peter looked back at Promise and waved her forward.

  Suddenly shy, feeling the handicap of her formerly small town life (or so she perceived it), Promise hesitated. She was confused by the run of her emotions. This was the place they’d been riding toward for the last nine days; it was where they’d find the cure for Chance.

  This was where her life would change again, but for the better this time.

  Why did she feel so wary of it?

  Promise stared at the fluorescent lights in the ceiling of the cafeteria. She felt like some kind of backwoods bumpkin, but she couldn’t help herself. It had been so long since she’d seen normal light…bright and strong…after the sun had gone down.

  “Seems weird, doesn’t it?” Peter’s voice from beside her. He sat next to her at the small, four-person table. She glanced at him and then back to the lights. She nodded.

  “How do they do it?” she asked. “It can’t be generators. That would take too much gas.”

  “Have you ever heard of solar energy, Promise?” Promise dropped her eyes to a man pulling out a chair across from her. His nametag read: Dr. Andrew Edwards, and he was the one who’d seemed to recognize Peter when they’d arrived.

  Promise and Dr. Edwards had not been introduced, but he knew her name. There had definitely been conversation between this Dr. Edwards and Peter.

  “I’ve heard of it,” Promise said. “One of the kids in my science class in eighth grade did a presentation on it,” she said. “Energy from the sun, right? On photovoltaic cells?”

  He nodded. “I’m impressed. It’s not a common thing to know about,” he said. “Right after the oil embargo–do you remember that, or were you too young? Even and odd days, and those exorbitant gas prices?–anyway, after that, there was a decent amount of interest in solar, but by 1980 or so, the price of gas had dropped again. No more need for solar energy!” He laughed, and it was tinged with only a slight bitterness. “People forget too quickly. It’s our curse.” He smiled at Promise.

  He was older; in his fifties, she’d have guessed. Older than her own father by about ten years or so. To Promise, he resembled an aging Paul Newman.

  “Anyway, yes, photovoltaic cells are at the base of it,” Dr. Edwards said. “The entire back field and roof of the hospital have been utilized for the generation of electricity. Even so, we are careful with it. These lights are only on for an hour at night as everyone eats. Good luck finding the trashcans if you dawdle!” He laughed, and Promise smiled.

  She glanced around the cafeteria. She estimated about fifty tables plus a scattering of booths lining two of the walls. The room was about half-full with people having dinner. There were a good amount of soldiers, but there were still more civilians. People in white coats–other doctors and technicians, service people, staff…it looked almost entirely like a busy hospital.

  Promise looked at her plate. Just crumbs. She’d devoured the sandwich she’d been given. It had been a while since she’d had bread. In Wereburg, there had been a pizza place on the main street with a big, wood-fired oven for cooking the pies. At first, the survivors had baked bread there. But someone had gotten careless and burned the building down. The shops on either side had gone with it. They’d stopped baking after that.

  “Where do you get the yeast?” she asked, recalling the light, air-filled texture of the bread that housed her sandwich.

  “You’re very smart…quite shrewd!” Dr. Edwards said,
and Promise felt her face warm with the praise. “Of course all the packaged yeast, even stored cold, is reaching its shelf life. After that, I guess…unleavened bread. Mazel tov!” he said and then smiled at Promise’s puzzled expression. “No, I’m just kidding. Of course, we have been making our own yeast for some time. We use raisins,” he trailed off, and his gaze switched to Peter. His face sobered. “We’ve missed you, Peter.”

  Promise watched with concern as Peter’s eyes dropped to his empty plate.

  He sighed and then looked at Dr. Edwards. “I’m sorry for how we left things.”

  Edwards nodded and smiled, but his clasped and working hands gave away a deeper tension. “I am, too. Very sorry,” he said, his knuckles whitening under the strain. “We could have used you here, you know. There were many times when–”

  Peter stood abruptly, cutting Edwards off.

  “I’m not going to have this argument again,” Peter said. He pushed the chair back into the table hard enough that the table shifted by three inches. “I don’t owe you anything.” His eyes turned to Promise. “I’m going to check on Snow and Ash. I’ll see you back in the room.” He turned on his heel and strode to the exit. Many of the people in the cafeteria watched him go, and then their gazes strayed back to Edwards.

  “Excuse me,” Promise said and pushed her own chair back. She felt that all the eyes in the cafeteria were on her as she followed Peter to the exit.

  Especially Dr. Edwards’.

  ~ ~ ~

  Promise found Peter in the former hospital’s physical therapy room. The horses had been tucked in among the mats and exercise machines. Dim emergency lighting gave the room a reddish-yellow glow. Peter stood next to Snow, a rag in his hand, but he was still, head down.

  He was silhouetted blackly against Snow’s glowing white flank.

  “Peter?” Promise said, and he looked up. She thought she caught a hint of fire in his gaze, but that could have been from the EXIT sign illuminated over her head above the door. “Are you all right?”