Truth be told, he didn’t want to take longer than necessary because of Jason and Jessica. There was nothing the kids could do, if he was incapacitated. Hopefully, he wasn’t imagining things, but he had a sinking sensation that the constant heat waves he was having weren’t nerves.
But he’d hide the fever as long as he could. No one needed to know. Not yet anyway.
Glancing at his nephew, Scott smiled. He didn’t want to cause alarm, but he had to ask. “How ya feelin’, bud?”
Jason shifted in the bucket seat of the Ford Bronco and rolled his head back and forth. “She’s little but she’s heavy.” He hadn’t put Baby Jessica down since they’d left Boise that morning. He had her cuddled against his chest and Scott understood the need to feel connected. If he weren’t driving, Scott would snuggle the baby and pretend Stephanie, his sister and Jessica’s mother, was going to walk in any minute and laugh about how much she wanted to eat chocolate but couldn’t because she was breastfeeding.
With the recent deaths in the family swarming around them of Scott’s parents, Scott’s sister – Jason’s aunt and grandparents – there was more than enough reason to grieve. But they didn’t have time for that. Scott would deal with that loss when he had a few minutes to himself. As it was, he had to keep things together for his niece and nephew – the last two people he had left in the world.
He had checked the radio for any working stations on both FM and AM frequencies more often than was probably practical. He had to hear what was going on. Most likely there were too many sick to run anything. There had to be other survivors, or other late infected victims.
None of them were making themselves known. Most likely because it was too taxing to do much more than lie there.
Cresting over Mica Grade on US95, Scott’s stomach grumbled at the same time Ranger whimpered, nudging his shoulder with his snout. The dog had been with him a long time and they relied on each other for more than just protection or companionship. They were friends, pure and simple.
Scott reached back and rubbed Ranger’s nose. “Alright, buddy. Let’s stop.” He glanced at Jason. “She’s sleeping, why don’t you put her in the basinet and stretch your legs up here. I’ll pull over by the lake and get us something to eat.”
They had gone full bore since leaving Boise and cabin fever was getting to all of them. Stopping for brief stints to let Ranger out and to top off the gas from Scott’s tanks strapped to the top of the rig had been the few and far between breaks they’d taken.
The sun would set in another hour or so and Scott wanted to be home before then. With only forty minutes between Coeur d’Alene and his property line, they wouldn’t be able to break for long.
Pulling alongside the road where the shores of the lake faded into the banks of the mouth of the river, Scott sighed. They were close, so close to home. “We’ll stop here before we get into town.” He pointed toward a floating building with dark wood paneling and black vacant windows. “That’s Cedars Restaurant. You don’t remember this, but I took you and your dad there when you were about two. He was up for work and brought you with him.” Scott ignored the pang in his chest at the memory of his brother.
Another person he had to accept as lost.
“I don’t remember, but it sounds cool.” Jason shifted Jessica to the basinet, her lips sucking silently while she continued sleeping.
Climbing out of the Bronco, Scott stretched his neck by leaning his head forward and then leaning his head back. He lifted his shoulders and swung his arms. As long as he pretended that the aches and pains were from the long ride in an old Bronco, Scott could go on. He could convince himself. He had to, or he’d never be able to convince himself.
Ranger bounded out of the back, barking and rushing to the side of the water.
Tall trees towered over the shore as grass intermingled with the sandy beaches. With very little foot traffic on that side of the water, larger rocks were left strewn about the shoreline where they’d been dropped by glaciers thousands and thousands of years before. Moss and lichen had stained the tops of most of them with a dark ombre effect that faded down to the marbled and speckled surface of the rocks.
Peeking over the top of the hood, Scott narrowed his gaze. The setting sun cast a long, bright reflection across the slightly rippling water. In the distance to the east, the Coeur d’Alene Resort towered above the rest of the town that was hidden with overbearing oaks and maples. The sun caught the glass windows at just the right angle and the building could have been in the middle of the summer, filled with tourists.
Scott had no idea who was inside now, but he was certain the scene wasn’t pretty. He’d once read a series set in Coeur d’Alene, Idaho and the scene with the bodies floating in the water had haunted him every time he’d gone to town.
Ranger lapped at the water with an almost desperate gulping. Was Scott not doing a good enough job taking care of his dog? He’d make it up to him when they got home.
At the back of the rig, Scott joined Jason and opened the back door. “I have some MREs. Did Grandma ever give you those to try?” Looking at the stacks of bags and other supplies packed on each other, Scott was filled with a desire to just sit down and rest. Not drive. Not dig for food. Nothing. Just sit and enjoy the breeze coming off the water.
At the mention of his grandmother, Jason’s eyes reflected the grief any reminder of their lost loved ones brought on. “Yeah, she didn’t know how to prepare a couple of them and they were… kind of gross.” Try as he might, his expression lost all neutrality at the mention of the ill-prepared food and he grimaced.
“Let’s be honest, Grandma could cook, but when she didn’t know what she was doing, her food could tear your gut up.” Scott needed to laugh about his mom, he needed the good to overtake the bad until he could get to a place of security and lose himself in the memories.
Jason’s frown turned into a half-smile. “Yeah, she made this cornbread one time and she forgot to add flour. It was like eating tack. She said it was practice for when there was no more flour.” He chuckled, taking the energy bar Scott handed him and a packet of peanut butter and crackers. “Your MREs aren’t like the ones she had.”
Scott rolled his eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m not going to lie. This close to home and I’m not digging for food. I’ll feed you a solid meal when we get there, okay?” Kid was constantly eating. Scott could see his food storage of a couple years’ worth of food dwindling to a few months with Jason around. He was more than a little relieved that Jason didn’t complain about the simple fare. That was as deep as Scott was going for food.
The sound of a high revving engine distracted Scott and he dropped his own bottle of water from his lips to study the horizon just past the trees on the edge of the highway.
Staring in the direction of the sound, Scott searched the road and the connecting roads he could see. The curve blocked the sight of vehicles until they were almost on them, but the sound – with it as quiet as it was – carried far.
A pit in his chest gave Scott the energy he needed to kick into gear. That wasn’t the sound of someone going somewhere. It was a crazy speed of someone chasing something. He spoke hurriedly, but kept his volume low. “Get in the car, Jason. Get your belt on and check on Jess.” Scott closed the backdoor and rounded the side of the rig. “Ranger, come on!” He called down to his dog who had gotten a bit far down the shore, about twenty feet or so. A distance Ranger could sprint across in less than a couple seconds.
Ranger glanced at Scott but his attention was pulled toward something and he darted the wrong way to chase something along the rocky beach. The brown and black body of a raccoon dodging and skittering along the rocks and grass was barely visible from that distance.
The roar of the engine grew louder and Scott’s breathing sped up. He couldn’t chance anything. Not right then. Leaving Ranger wasn’t an option, but staying there was even less of a choice.
Why was the car going so fast? He couldn’t see it, but judging by the increasing lo
udness, he was running out of time to when it would be there.
“Ranger! Now! Come on, buddy!” Desperation hoarsened Scott’s voice and he backed up to the truck, hurrying around the side. Climbing in, he started the engine and whistled one more time. Come on, Ranger. Come on. But Ranger didn’t even bark in response.
His stomach hurt and he breathed a prayer. Please, not my dog. I need him. Please. But his prayer went unanswered. Tears blinding him, Scott shifted into first. He edged slowly forward on the shoulder, unwilling to speed away in case Ranger was nearby.
“Ranger! We can’t leave without Ranger.” Jason searched his side mirror and craned his neck as much as he could. “Uncle Scott, you can’t leave him. Please.”
Every word Jason begged with tore with more intensity at Scott’s guilt.
In the rearview mirror, a van came into view with chipped white pain and windows rolled down. The glint of a rifle barrel caught the setting sun as it rested out the side window.
Choking on his words, Scott hit the gas. “We can’t wait for Ranger.” Scott swallowed the impact of that loss. One more incredible heartbreak he had to store away until he had time to deal with it. He sped off, ignoring the gasp from Jason beside him.
Any second Scott expected to hear a gunshot, hear the van approach from behind, something that would signal their impending death. Or evidence that Ranger had made it back to the highway and had succumbed to either being hit by a car or being shot.
Picking up speed, Scott careened over the bridge, shifting into third and barreling up the incline to carry on US95. He had to get through town.
Frustrated with the soul-rending loss of his dog, Scott slammed his hand on the steering wheel and snarled. He looked out the windshield and the driver’s side window, careful to avoid Jason’s tear-filled gaze.
“Get ready, Jason. There’s going to be a lot of devastation we’re going to have to deal with.” What kind of looting were they about to witness? “Get out the shotgun. We have to expect anything.” Scott clenched his teeth together. Ranger was his best friend and having to leave him behind hurt more than having to leave his parents. His mom had made a decision, willingly staying behind to save her grandchildren and son.
Ranger was an innocent animal who relied on Scott. Abandoning him didn’t sit right. But Scott had to choose between the safety of his nephew and niece and the safety of his best-friend.
Scott wasn’t sure he could live with the decision he’d made.
Chapter 3
Margie
The snow had disappeared from the edges of I90, leaving behind a dark, wetness to the dirt and tree bark. Margie longed to turn on the radio, but she would never be able to hear anything – even if there was a radio station working – over the sound of the rattling car parts and David’s breathing.
Margie leaned closer to her husband, careful to keep her eyes on the road as she listened to his breathing. No, his breathing had changed from rattling to more jagged, like his throat hurt. If the sound had left his lungs, he was less likely to have pneumonia. Margie could handle most diseases with palliative care as the body fought off the disease, but pneumonia was a whole different illness.
Just like cancer.
Margie slowed the Bug’s speed as they completely left the base of Snoqualmie Pass. Not another car in sight set her on edge. She chewed her lower lip as she glanced at the gas gauge. The needle was dropping faster than she remembered her old one doing in college, but back then everything went further than things these days. Sometimes, Margie swore they put evaporator into the gas, so it would disappear before being used.
She would have to stop and get gas or risk breaking down on the edge of the freeway.
A sign for the next exit flashed green as she popped the headlights on. “Welcome to Easton, Washington” with logos for a Safeway gas station made up her mind. She needed gas and she needed time to think.
Running toward Cady’s homestead was easy in theory until she added the limitations of a struggling vehicle, an invalid husband, and her own doubts and fears. Then, all kinds of small bumps in the road became mountains she couldn’t see herself overcoming without a plan.
On top of everything else, Margie had a suspicion that the Bug wasn’t keeping its fuel, there might be some kind of a hole in the fuel tank. Those old cars had a reputation for rusting out by the coast – any coast.
Margie pulled off the freeway, the front bumper vibrating something fierce as she shifted down. If she wasn’t careful, they’d end up dropping an axle right where they were.
David opened his eyes blearily. “Are we… at Cady’s already?” He licked his lips and grimaced as he swallowed. He hadn’t spoken much since the ship and Cady wasn’t surprised. He was exhausted and the evidence of a slight rash creeping up the back of his neck worried her more than his cancer did.
Margie turned down an empty street, heading straight for the large Safeway sign she could see clearly from down the road. The gas station part was closer to the freeway than the store. Margie had enough food in the car to get them to Cady’s. She didn’t have any interest in the store portion. She wasn’t interested in hanging around there either. She wanted gas and she wanted out.
She glanced to the left as she slowed, approaching the Safeway station. A Burger King seemed to watch over the rest of the road as a hardware store held back a bit. An ominous feel to the air shifted as she turned into the gas station.
Two abandoned-looking cars had been left on the side of the road beside the entrances to the station lot. The reflective glass hinted at lights on inside, but made it difficult to see if anyone manned the store or if it was just left on by accident.
Evening would rear its freezing head soon and Margie wasn’t sure the heater in the Bug could handle more stress on it.
She coasted into a space nearest the building and parked beside pump two. Turning off the engine, Margie didn’t have any further to go. She couldn’t drive any further without gas and she had to drive. David wasn’t going to walk with her.
Winter seemed harsher off the Seattle harbor with its sharp winds and extreme moisture in the air. This side of the mountains left the air feeling warmer, a little more like spring, but that would fade when the sun completely set.
“Margie, I… There’s not a lot of time.” David kept his eyes closed as he spoke, as if he couldn’t look at her and speak at the same time. He flopped his hand around until she took his fingers in hers. “Leave me. You need to go. I… I’m just holding you back. Please. Just go.” David finally opened his eyes, releasing his pent-up tears to roll down his pale, masculine features.
She shook her head as she squeezed his hand in hers. “No. We’re in this together. Don’t you go quitting on me, Mr. Moss. We have so much ahead of us. Cady would never forgive me, if I didn’t make sure you got home with me and you know it.” She dropped her teasing tone and pressed her lips together. “I need you. I can’t do this without you.” Every promise they’d ever made each other tightened in her chest.
Leaving David wasn’t an option. She would make everything else work around him. She leaned over, kissing him carefully on the cheek. “I know you think you’re a burden, but you’re not. I…” She shook her head. She had plenty of time to apologize for dragging him out on that horrible trip when he just wanted to be in the peaceful solitude of their home. “I’m going to fix everything, okay?” She refused to cry. There was nothing to cry about. They would get to Cady’s and David would at least get a few days of rest in familiar surroundings.
Reaching into the orange bag, Margie pulled out her wallet. She’d thrown in so many things in her escape from the ship, her wallet was something that had been afterthought. Who would think money or identification would even be needed? But she hadn’t been sure and had been barely thinking as she’d thrown together the items they needed to take with them. Habit had forced a lot of things from her purse and into the bag. She was glad as she took a deep breath and opened the door.
Stepping ou
tside the Bug, Margie took a moment to scan the lot, and then glanced at the screen of the pump.
The black digital screen flashed $6.42 a gallon. Margie blinked in disbelief. “What?” Her confusion sparked a fury inside her. Why would it cost that much for a gallon of gas? People needed to get home or get places during this emergency. They didn’t need to be gouged from the navel upwards.
But she bit her lip and pulled out her credit card. She’d pay it. Or, at the very least, her credit card would pay it – exactly like every other person who had paid that price.
Pushing her card into the slot, Margie breathed in through her nose and out through her mouth. She was angry and tired and just plain done with the whole situation.
She pushed some buttons but then a beep that split loudly through the silence startled her. The screen flashed a message.
“Transaction failed. Please see cashier inside.”
Margie inhaled, feeling like she was struggling to breathe through a thick layer of gel. Really, she was only angry, but too many things piled on her shoulders.
She couldn’t go inside. She didn’t want to leave David. She did, however, need to use the restroom and she could do with some freshening up.
If the gas station was running like normal though – minus references to price gouging – then maybe she had a modicum of safety there. She could go inside, use the bathroom, get some water, pay, and then come back out to finish gassing up.
On the flip side, it wouldn’t hurt anything to keep going. She could try running her card again. Maybe it was just an error. Re-swiping the card again, she punched in her zip code and got far enough to choose which grade of gas she wanted. At the last second, the screen beeped and the message flashed on the screen to go inside and see a cashier.
Okay, so there was a human in there tampering with her purchase. Margie pressed her lips together. What was she supposed to do? Really go inside? She needed the gas. The temperature was dropping and she needed to get them back on the road so David wouldn’t freeze to death. The heater didn’t have to work perfectly to put off some heat. She’d be siphoning some from the engine anyway.
180 Days and Counting... Series Box Set books 4 - 6 Page 2
