Rise of the Plague (Book 1): Endemic

by Jeannie Rae

  “I figured. This here, is hang over food. You look like you’ve been through the ringer. And it looks like you lost your shoes somewhere. Normally, we don’t let shoeless folks in here, but you seem harmless and we’re not that busy this morning. You from around here?” She asked.

  “Not really, I… have a cousin I’m visiting,” Roxy lied between mouthfuls. After the war zone that Port Steward became last night, she thought it best to not speak of her hometown or why she was in Bayberry Hollow.

  Roxy looked down at her bare feet. They were filthy. Her chipped, pink, toe polish reminded her of an old chair that’s paint was deteriorating from weather damage. Dirt and grime had snuck under her toe nails, and dried sand clung to her heel and calf. Her thighs were smeared from her sweaty hands wiping against them on the way here. Her clothes were equally grimy; looking as if she’d not washed them in a week and rolled around in the parking lot a few times before coming into the diner. Taking a moment to examine her hands, she would have been repulsed by their grubbiness, had she not felt so famished.

  “Really? Who’s your cousin? I probably know ‘em. I’ve lived here, my whole life, ya know,” she said.

  “It’s not important. I really did have a bad night and just want to eat. I’m just not much for conversation right now. I’m sorry,” Roxy said.

  “Point taken. Ya know, we mostly just get regulars ‘round here. You aren’t the only stranger I’ve seen this morning. I’m actually surprised, with the explosion on The Witch’s Boot. I half expected to see flocks of people from Port Steward show up here. They must have gone deeper into Bayberry Hollow to have their breakfasts, near the hotels and such,” she said, as she walked over to the booth, to clear the dishes the couple had left behind.

  “There was another stranger here this morning?” She asked, chewing her steak.

  Roxy positioned the chrome napkin dispenser in front of her and examined her face. It appeared much like her thighs with dirt smudges on her cheeks. Her brown hair wasn’t as tangled as she would have imagined, although it felt slightly stiff from her salt water swim last night. Her face had healed the scrapes and gashes caused during her fight with Randy. She looked at her eyes. Blue. Vibrantly blue. Just like Randy’s. Her eyes had transitioned from soft brown, changing hues several times until now, they were finally electric blue.

  “Yeah, well, actually there was four of them. Four men, they wasn’t much for conversation neither,” she said, butchering her grammar.

  “Oh,” Roxy said disappointedly. She thought for a flickering moment, that it might be her family. “No girls?”

  “Nah. But they did have a dog. One of them vicious Pit Bulls. Red-nose, I think they call ‘em. They had it in the back of their El Camino when they ordered. I saw it when I took out the trash. The thing damn near scared me to death,” she said softly.

  Roxy nearly choked on the bite in her mouth. She wanted to tell this lady exactly how she felt about Pit Bulls and how thinking like that is what perpetuates their bad reputation. But this was no time to stand up for Pit Bull rights, “How long ago did they leave?”

  “Well, right before you walked in. I packed up their food in to-go boxes. They said they needed to get back out to that dog. I was none too happy about it. That dog looked mean, probably would have scared off some customers having that thing out in the parking lot, unsupervised, not even tied up. Never did see them pull away, sure hope they’re not still parked out back,” she chuckled.

  Roxy fished out a crumpled up twenty from her shorts and slammed it on the counter. She took a huge gulp of the water and grabbed the rest of the steak with her bare hand and dashed for the door.

  “Thanks! Keep the change. Oh, and by the way, it’s mean people that make Pit Bulls bad Maggie.”

  Roxy raced around the front of the store. The familiar scent had been a blend of Rogue and her dad. She was sure of it. Rounding the side of the building to the back, she stopped and felt as if the air had been removed from her lungs.

  A blue El Camino was parked with two unknown men in the back leaning up against the cab and two more sitting with their backs to her. All were eating out of Styrofoam take out boxes. Rouge was on the ground, near the back bumper eating out of a container herself. Although she couldn’t identify the men—she knew her dog. Rogue looked up at Roxy and began to whine with excitement, before dashing toward her human. The men in the car turned her way, and she could see that her father and Dave were in the back.

  “Oh my god!” Joe exclaimed, leaping out of the car.

  Roxy could barely catch her breath. She knelt down and stroked Rogue in long motions before running toward the men. Joe wrapped his arms around her as she approached. Without warning, tears rained down her cheeks. Feeling buried by a mountain of emotion, she couldn’t find her voice.

  As she felt her father’s warm embrace, she thought she could supernova with happiness. Feeling a resurgence of power as if she were recharging by the strength of her father’s sturdy arms, she smiled—really smiled—for the first time in what seemed like a long time. Last night she had lost all hope, but now her hope soared. The last few days felt like an eternity and after it all, she was reunited with her family at last. As Joe finally released his hold, her panic and tension of the last few days began to melt away at the realization that they made it out.

  Her eyes met Dave’s. A chill crept up her core, a rising energy. It was glee. It seemed as if Dave could hold back no longer. He moved toward her swiftly, pulling her into a protective squeeze. She closed her eyes and nuzzled her head against Dave’s chest and bicep. His muscular build didn’t feel as hard as it appeared. Instead, it felt soft and comforting. Feeling deeply connected to him, she did not want the hug to ever end. He gently pulled back from the embrace, locking eyes with her. Roxy felt as if they were the only two people in existence at that moment. His thoughtful, brown eyes looked as if they could see deep within her soul. Studying his flawless face, she wanted so much to kiss him. He wanted it too. He leaned in, his forehead back and lips forward to meet hers. Her lips parted slightly, puckering as he drew nearer. As he nearly connected to hers, she turned her head, pecking him on the cheek.

  Randy’s words weighed heavily on her mind about her ability to spread the infection. While she couldn’t be sure if he was right or not, she couldn’t take the chance. She adored Dave, and wouldn’t put him in harm’s way at her hand. She would have to know for certain before she would do anything that could be a danger to his well-being.

  Dave turned his head to Roxy and gave her a closed mouth grin. His expression revealed slight disappointment. Roxy shared an apologetic smirk and looked at her father as if to tell Dave, that he was the reason she did not kiss him. He understood, offering a small nod. I’m going to have to tell him what Randy told me, but not now. I need to get more answers from Mara.

  The other men made their way over, with smiles on their faces as though they’d known her for years.

  “Hi there, I’m Shotgun and this is Hank,” the sturdy-looking man with a blonde, buzz cut said. He approached with a limp, while pointing to an older man at his side.

  “How? How can you be alive?” Joe gasped.

  “I take it, you are the infamous Roxy?” Hank asked, extending his hand. “You are all I’ve been hearing about for the last few days.”

  She smiled at Hank, shaking his hand and looking around the vehicle, “That’s me. It’s a long story Dad. Where’s Kate? And Mara?” She said looking to Joe, then Dave.

  Her smile began to fade when she saw their expressions. She felt her heart sink. No, not my baby sister. I should have gone to that damn carnival with them. She didn’t make it.

  “Mara took her,” Dave said.

  “Oh, thank God, they made it. Dad, I was so worried about you guys. Are they meeting us here? What happened, how did you get separated from them?” Roxy asked, smiling with relief.

  “Back at the video store, Mara took Kate…to Angora,” Dave said.

  “What?” she
asked, “Why?”

  Joe clenched his jaw and turned away. He took a few steps before turning back to her with a look of dismay. He shook his head as if he couldn’t speak.

  Roxy knew her father better than anyone else. It is a rare day that he sheds a tear. She had seen him near tears on a few select occasions, and this was one of them. There was a look that he would get on his face, just like the look he was giving right now—his brow furrowed, lips tightly sealed, nostrils flared and eyes at half-mast—that revealed the inner struggle to fight back the tears. She’d felt the same way on a few occasions, as if just one word spoken would open the flood gates.

  “I don’t know,” Dave explained, “We heard the gunshots and rushed over to you. We thought you were dead. Infected were running toward us, we had to leave you there. When we got back to the alley, all we could see were Mara’s tail lights going inside the gates. Maybe she was scared and thought Angora was the only way of The Port. How did you survive? You had no pulse and infected were all around.”

  “It’s a long story. I’ll explain, I promise.”

  Roxy knelt down petting Rogue for a moment while thinking. Why would Mara go back to Angora? She said we were all in danger. Unless she was lying, but why would she leave, just to go back? And why take Kate?

  “You don’t think that she was after Kate all along, do you?” She stood up, looking to Dave.

  “Why would she be?” Dave asked doubtfully.

  “There was something that Mara said to me when we left Angora and in the video store, that is starting to make sense. She told the guard at the gate that we needed to get my sister to Angora before she is bitten or infected, and that she could be the key to a cure. Because Kate is probably a carrier, because she’s my sister,” Roxy said.

  “That makes a little bit of sense,” Hank chimed in. “They won’t do anything to her if they need her. She probably doesn’t even know what’s really going on.”

  “Yeah, but where would we even begin to look for her?” Roxy kicked the dirt.

  “Angora Headquarters, in Blue Falls. It’s about three hours from here. I can take you there now,” Shotgun said, motioning to the El Camino.

  “Let’s go then, what are we waiting for?” Roxy said, chewing the last bite of her steak and tapping the bed of the El Camino. Rogue obediently hopped into the back.

  “Let’s hit it,” Shotgun said.

  Hank slid into the driver’s seat, while Shotgun took the passenger side. The rest loaded up into the back, as Hank turned over the engine. He pulled out of the rear dirt parking lot onto the interstate.

  “We’re going to get Kate back Dad, I promise. If they need her like I think they do, they aren’t going to hurt her,” Roxy said, grabbing her father’s hand.

  “I know we’ll get her back. I am so glad that you are okay. I thought we lost you last night. You seem so grown up right now. I just… I’m so proud of you,” Joe’s eyes filled up with tears, but he wouldn’t let them fall, as he squeezed her hand. “You’re eyes…they’ve changed. And what are you doing eating meat? Do I need to call PETA? Kidding aside, you haven’t had meat in years Roxy, it could make you sick.”

  “Dad, I have a lot to tell you,” Roxy said, trying to figure where to start the conversation.

  “Well, we’ve got a long ride ahead of us to get caught up,” Joe ran his hand through his hair.

  “Hey guys, there’s something on the radio about what happened in the Port,” Shotgun announced after opening the custom rear window as the car sped down the interstate, beginning the long road ahead to Blue Falls to reunite with Kate.

  CHAPTER NINETY-TWO

  Maggie busied herself wiping a booth that had contained a young couple, a few minutes prior at Dizzy’s Café. Having seen a handful of strangers come through, Maggie thought this morning had been different from most. Strangers were rare around these parts and to see five in such a short time—sent Maggie’s mind into overdrive. She pondered where these people had come from. While none of them admitted to being from Port Steward, she had her doubts, after what had happened there, the night before.

  The front door opened, interrupting her thoughts. Who could that be now?

  “Good Morning John Thomas!” Maggie exclaimed, joyfully eyeing a regular. “I sure am happy to see a familiar face. Go ahead and take your usual seat, and I’ll get you your coffee.”

  John sat on a stool at the counter, his shoulders were sunk forward, and his head hung down as if he were sulking.

  Tossing her wet towel into the tote of dishes, Maggie heaved the tote to her hip and made her way behind the counter. Dropping the tote of dishes in the sink, she wiped her hands on her apron before pouring coffee into a cup and setting it before her patron.

  “Is everything alright John?” She asked, as she leaned over the counter.

  “Yeah, I guess so,” he said in a raspy voice, taking a sip of coffee, “Great cup of joe, as usual Maggie.”

  “Can I get you your usual breakfast?” Maggie asked.

  John nodded, his glazed-over eyes drifting off toward the west windows.

  As Maggie wrote up the ticket for John’s usual meat mania omelet with cheesy country potatoes, she eyed her customer with regard. In general, John has always been a spirited fella that stops by each morning for breakfast, before getting back to work at his peach orchard. He certainly was not himself this morning, and now that Maggie gave him a thorough once over, he looked pretty dirty. She placed the order on the trolley and spun it to the back. Wanting to find out what could be troubling John, her gut told her to leave it alone, for now.

  Making her way to her other customers, she topped off Tommy Joe’s coffee cup as he sat alone in the booth just inside the door, reading the newspaper. She could see the revolver in Tommy Joe’s waistband. It caused her no alarm though; he always had his revolver on his side. Living out in the country has its hazards. Most ranchers around these parts carry guns on them.

  Moving over to mister and misses Anderson in the corner booth, they requested milk refills for their two preteen boys as they kept trying to get their cell phones to work. Lastly, she made her way to her last customer in the diner, Andy Martin, who had just walked in and taken his regular seat, in the booth next to Tommy Joe’s. She poured coffee into his empty cup, confirming that he wanted his usual breakfast. Andy made mention of his phone line being out since last night. Maggie thought it a strange coincidence that the Anderson’s were having trouble with their cells too, but didn’t give it much thought.

  Ding, sounded from the back counter. Maggie fluttered back to the order window and retrieved John Thomas’ breakfast. She placed the plate before him and offered a brief smile.

  John rocked in his seat back and forth, his eyes half open. For a minute, Maggie thought he might be drunk. She quelled the thought, assuring herself that John Thomas had given up liquor nearly fifteen years ago. Surely he hadn’t fallen off the wagon.

  “Now John Thomas, you are not lookin’ well. You tell me what’s wrong right now, or I’m gonna to call Doc Wilson this instant,” Maggie mothered him.

  “You know, I just think I’m hungry. That’s all,” he muttered.

  “Well, I do not believe you John Thomas, so I’m callin’ the doctor,” she pulled out her cell phone, looking at him, giving him one last opportunity to offer an explanation. Glancing at her phone, she noticed the words No Service where her antenna bars normally were located. Now that’s strange.

  “Okay, okay, put down the phone,” John began with an uncooperative sigh. “I came across a drifter last night. Found him in the orchard and damn near shot ‘em. He seemed decent enough, so I told him that he could stay over in the barn for the night. Didn’t want the coyotes to get ‘em for Christ’s sake. ‘Cause then I’d have to clean up after them, that’s all.”

  Maggie looked at the old man as he paused. Time had sure taken its toll on him, and he’d had his share of grief, losing his family in a fire more than two decades ago. He was a kind and generous man,
Maggie could see that in him. But he damn sure didn’t want the world to know it, cloaking his generosity and kindness in sarcasm and negativity.

  “This morning, that little bastard broke into my house, busted right through the window,” John continued, “And would you believe that he tried to fight me? We tussled a bit. I ain’t as young as I used to be, then—he bit me on the ankle, like a dog! He was crazed or something, I tell you. I shot him, dead. I tried calling the sheriff, but my phones ain’t working. I was on my way to the sheriff’s office, when I started to feel real bad, sick or something. Figured I needed a bite.”

  Maggie listened in awe. Sweet Christmas, I’ve got to call Delores and Barbie and tell them about this. Strangers be damned, now this is a story.

  “Oh my goodness John! I am just glad that you’re alright. Eat up and head over to the sheriff, but you should stop by the clinic and get checked out, to make sure you’re okay,” Maggie insisted.

  “Will do,” John said, taking a bite of potatoes.

  Maggie’s mind reeled as she walked over to the Anderson’s booth and placed two full glasses of milk on the table. Retrieving the empties, she returned them to the sink. She heard a loud thud behind her and spun around to see that John had passed out. He was faced down, with his head on his plate, body slumped forward onto the counter.

  “John!” Maggie shouted as she raced around the counter.

  Maggie approached him from behind, not sure what to do next. She reached a shaky hand to his neck, but couldn’t find a pulse. Tommy Joe and Andy rushed to John’s aid.

  “Let’s get him on the floor,” Andy said, looking to Tommy Joe.

  Andy grabbed John at the shoulders, Tommy Joe took the legs and they carefully laid him on his back. Andy felt for a pulse, then shook his head at Tommy Joe and Maggie.

  “I know CPR. Tommy Joe, call nine, one, one,” Maggie slid over to John’s right side.

  Tommy Joe dashed around the counter as Maggie tilted John’s head back and felt for a pulse once more. She couldn’t feel anything. Leaning over John’s mouth and nose, she listened for breathing. He wasn’t breathing.