by A. R. Shaw
“Well, that’s a darn good thing,” said Graham, grinning at Mark.
“He’s been through a lot,” Tala remarked after the door was closed.
“Yeah, haven’t we all.” Graham then called to Macy. “Yes?” she answered from the bunkroom, zipping her jacket.
“We’re up, kiddo,” he said.
He gave her one of the radios and they first walked out to Ennis’s spot together to try them out. Macy used long strides to keep pace with Graham, crunching the autumn leaves and dry needles underfoot with her brown suede work boots.
He gave her one of the radios, having left one in the kitchen with Tala, who listened to their conversation from there. Ennis walked up to them and talked about police radio codes; he told them that 10-12 meant people were present and that 10-34 meant trouble at this station, but terms rather than numbered codes came to him more readily when Graham asked about them. Ennis couldn’t remember the code for “all clear,” so they decided that the phrase itself would suffice.
Marcy greeted her twin happily, admired the radio, quickly learned the code system, and then raced back to the cabin, ravenous for more of Tala’s cooking.
Inside she warmed her hands by the fire and removed the pistol from the holster Ennis had made for her, placing both on the table by the door. She then removed her coat and hung it on a peg and pulled off her boots and lined them up in their spot within the range of biggest to smallest.
She turned around to warm her backside in front of the stove. Tala smiled at her from the kitchen. “Is it getting cold out there?” she asked.
“Yeah, especially when you’re sitting up in a tree for hours freezing your buns off.” Marcy walked into the kitchen to wash her hands. “Do you want me to set the table?”
“Sure. We’re seven now, so add an extra place,” Tala said.
“What? Why do we have an extra?” Marcy asked as she pulled the right number of plates out of the cupboard.
“Didn’t Macy tell you?” Tala asked.
“No, who is it?” Marcy asked.
Mark opened the bathroom door, and warm mist spilled out. Dressed in gray sweatpants and a white T-shirt, he said hi to Marcy, then asked Tala, “Where do I put these?” He was holding a bundle of dirty clothes in one arm and the doorjamb with the other as he swayed, a bit unsteady.
Marcy put down the dishes and hurried over to help him. Mark acted kind of embarrassed to have her support, but he accepted it. She took the dirty clothes from under his arm, walked him over to a chair at the table, and shot Tala a questioning look.
“Marcy, meet Mark. Mark, this is Macy’s twin.”
He stared at her. “Wow! You and your sister . . .”
“Yeah. I know,” she said. “I’ll take these and put them with the others,” Marcy said.
“You might want to burn those,” Mark said.
“Dinner’s almost ready, Mark. Are you hungry?” Tala asked.
“Yes, thank you.”
Marcy returned to the stack of plates and began laying them out. Mark reached for one to put on his side of the table, trying to help her. Marcy could smell his shampooed hair, still wet from the shower. He looked pale against his bruised cheek, which had shades of deep purple spreading out to green.
As if her glances made him uncomfortable, he refused to meet Marcy’s eyes. “Tala,” he asked, “is there something I can do to help?”
“No, you need to rest and get better so that you can help us in lots of other ways later on. There is certainly plenty to do.”
Tonight they were having pinto beans and rice, like Graham’s mom always made. It was a nice break from all the strange types of meat they’d been eating. Tala managed to make a peach cobbler out of canned peaches as a surprise for after dinner, and though they now ate in shifts, there would be plenty for everyone. With two good meals a day, they were gaining back the weight they’d lost during the chaos. They were also gaining muscle as their work schedule demanded a lot of physical labor that none of them were used to.
Tala called Ennis and Bang to the old table and the five of them got to know one another over dinner. Marcy watched Mark’s eyelids drooping, and was glad when Tala saw it too and suggested that Ennis help him into one of the bunks.
“But . . .” Marcy whispered after peeking in, “Ennis is putting him in Graham’s bed.”
“Probably because Mark’s too weak to climb the ladder, just like you were at first,” Tala answered.
“Yeah. I guess.”
“I’ll check on him before I go to bed,” Tala said, “and make sure he’s okay. He’ll probably need a couple of extra blankets—tonight, at least.”
~ ~ ~
The next morning Marcy smiled as she awoke, hearing Mark tell Tala he wasn’t really sure where he was or if he was dreaming and the nightmare might come back. Marcy could relate to that.
32 The Preppers
When the carriers—at first just a woman and an old man—showed up and broke into a cabin near the lake, Dalton was about to initiate the original plan of action, which was to suit up, go in, and take them out. But while they were on their way through the forest, Graham arrived with the kids and a dog, leaving Dalton’s group with a hard decision to make. They aborted that mission and, though it took some planning and stealth, managed to infiltrate Graham’s camp that night and hid several motion-activated cameras among the trees to keep an eye on them. The cameras were linked via radio signals to a monitor back at the preppers’ camp; this would mean regular maintenance trips to refresh the cameras’ batteries, but it would be worth the effort.
Some thought they should follow the guidelines originally set in place and argued for taking out the whole crew of carriers because they were too close to the base camp. All it would take was one encounter to introduce the virus into their secure area, and the preppers would die, yet the thought of killing anyone in cold blood just seemed wrong and Dalton said so. Rick asked if there was any benefit to keeping carriers so close, and the only thing Dalton could come up with was that they posed no hostile threat and might act as a warning system for other intruders to the area.
They’d prepared for this scenario, and in theory the right thing to do was make every attempt to terminate the virus for the good of all, but Dalton couldn’t go through with it. For one thing, he recognized Graham, the guy who’d moved into the cabin. They’d gone to summer camp together when they were kids, even visited each other’s cabins, and had fished together and done the things twelve-year-old boys do. They’d only run into each other a few times as adults when Graham visited in town. They exchanged numbers once, and told each other they would get together with their wives to visit, but neither one ever did call. Something always came up, and now Dalton really regretted it because he’d always thought Graham was a great guy.
It was one thing to kill in defense of one’s family, but a managed risk with the carriers, with proper parameters, was another. They were not a threat to the prepper camp unless they got near.
The preppers knew Graham had weapons, but essentially, he was one man with one woman taking care of an old man and several children. Dalton had to respect him for taking them in.
Then one day he and Rick, while checking out the town, had spotted a man and a boy. The man had shot at them, and Dalton took him out before he recognized the boy as Mark, his own aunt’s youngest son, and shoved the barrel of Rick’s rifle aside so he wouldn’t kill the kid.
That night Rick argued, “Dalton, you know this goes against everything we’ve trained for. That kid could kill us all.”
“I know. But he’s my cousin, Rick.” We can’t kill him, and we can’t just leave him out there on his own. There’s no one left to help him.
“All right. It’s your call,” Rick said in a tone of disdain.
Dalton sometimes regretted not taking the action, but he also regretted not convincing the rest of his family to join the prepper group he’d founded just five years ago. Too much had happened in the world, and he’d seen f
irsthand, with five tours in Iraq and Afghanistan, what crazy crap people were capable of. He’d had his money on trouble coming from terrorist groups, not the Chinese. But that’s where the disease had come from and, while not exactly a planned attack, it had worked just as well as if it had been, leaving most of the world dead—even in China.
Dalton’s family chalked his prepper activity up to PTSD and kept quiet about it. He practiced every other weekend and prepared for the worst. Now he, his wife, and their two small sons were holed up in their hideout along with thirty other adults and their children.
Things had gone to plan after he initiated the alert to converge on the hidden location. They’d quarantined everyone who wanted in, and more than a few didn’t pass. It was too bad, but they’d incinerated the remains of those who died from the virus in quarantine. The name of the game was survival, and if they had to be ruthless and sometimes inhumane, they all knew it was necessary.
It shocked Dalton that the boy had made it. He’d assumed that his entire extended family had perished. Rick reluctantly agreed to risk capturing Mark, taking him back to camp and isolating him, but the kid’s residence there took a toll on Dalton’s conscience because the shelter they had to keep his young cousin in wasn’t sufficient for his survival through the winter. Not only that, but the boy continued trying to escape. It was only a matter of time before he would, and the possibility that he might expose one of them was just too much of a risk.
Finally Dalton made the decision to take Mark to Graham’s place. When the surveillance team radioed that Graham and just one girl were on the move toward town, he and Rick hauled Mark there, instead of the cabin, where the risk of exposure would be greater to them.
Now that the transfer was complete, they burned the shack they’d kept the boy in and sterilized their suits as well as the jeep compartment they’d used to transport him.
All in all, Dalton felt good about the situation but was still worried, so they doubled up on their surveillance to keep track of Graham’s group’s whereabouts at all times. As far as he knew, the kid didn’t know who had saved his ass, nor had Graham recognized him in the suit.
Dalton had thought about revealing himself, but if he did and had to exterminate Graham later it would be harder, so he thought he’d just keep his name secret for now.
It was a lucky thing they were monitoring them, too, because as they watched the old man by the lake, the surveillance team spotted the strange men in the canoe and realized there were more across the lake, though they didn’t seem to be associated with one another, nor had the old man waved back. That bothered Dalton.
If the canoe guys were hostiles, they would surely go after Graham’s people first, and that would give the preppers some warning.
Only after the men in the canoe had made themselves known had Graham’s little group begun to keep watch on their own camp. They really were vulnerable to anyone who came in, because they lacked a military mind-set.
Dalton’s team accepted this, and besides surveillance, they decided as a group they’d only step in to help if there were no risk to themselves in doing so. Now he just hoped Graham and his team, including his own young cousin, would follow the rules and not cause them to regret their mercy.
33 A Surprise Encounter
The next morning Mark was awakened by a rough tongue licking his face. He shouted when he realized it was a dog. Marcy came running around the corner, thinking Mark was having a bad dream, but then started laughing when she saw him cowering at the head of his bed. “It’s just Sheriff,” she said. “He won’t hurt you, he’s a police dog. He found Macy and me. He hasn’t turned wild like the others, and he even brings us food sometimes,” she said, reached for the dog and scratching just under his ears.
Mark reached out his hand, shaking with fear, and Sheriff smelled it, then walked out of the room to go about his own business for the day.
Later that day, because he was still so weak, Mark helped where he could. Bang took him outside to practice with the bow and arrow, and with each shot he took Mark got better at it. He was a little embarrassed to have a five-year-old teach him how to shoot straight but, like Graham said, “Might as well learn from the master.” Mark was surprised to learn that the girls had also learned from the little boy.
“That’s funny that your name is Bang and the dog’s name is Sheriff,” Mark said that night at the dinner table, but it seemed like no one else thought it was funny.
“Yeah, we know,” Macy said, breaking the awkward silence. “I guess it doesn’t really mean much anymore.”
The next day Mark got bored and asked Graham if he could take his turn on look out.
“I don’t know, son,” Graham said. “You’re still pretty badly bruised, and you look washed out. We can’t have you falling asleep on watch or not being able to react fast enough if there’s a problem. But I’ll tell you what. Why don’t you stack that wood over there and split five more blocks with the ax? If you do that for the rest of the week, it will help build up your strength.
So Mark set to work, and the first day he did split five logs and stacked all the wood, and the second day he split six. Each day he ramped up his efforts, and every night his muscles ached from the unaccustomed exercise, but he felt good about contributing, and he was getting stronger every day.
By the end of the week Ennis noticed the boy stretching before he got to work with the ax and said, “You gonna be Paul Bunyan before this is through.”
“Who’s Paul Bunyan?” Mark asked.
Ennis shook his head, muttering something about the state of the school system, then walked away with his fishing pole over his shoulder and Sheriff trotting along beside him.
After dinner that night, while Tala and Graham were on watch, Ennis called all the children into the living area and told them stories about Paul Bunyan and Babe the Blue Ox.
When she learned of his lessons, Tala scoffed and told them there was a lot more they all needed to learn than American folklore. Ennis just scoffed, and Mark was glad. He liked the old man and his tales. Later, out of earshot, Mark explained to a wide-eyed Bang that folklore meant a made-up story. He didn’t want the little guy scared witless of a giant man with an ax and a blue ox showing up when they were out in the woods working. Bang had already told them all about Korean folklore and how the Dokkaebi scared him, so Mark figured he’d also worry about this tall tale.
~ ~ ~
When he thought the boy was strong enough, Graham put Mark on his first night shift, and was damn glad he had. At Sheriff’s sharp bark, in response to the radio in the kitchen coming alive, he tumbled out of bed and asked Tala what was up.
Mark had reported seeing a canoe coming their way at two in the morning. He called in a 10-34, trouble at this station, and bypassed the 10-12, visitors present, because this late at night he figured these guys were up to no good anyway.
Graham thought the boy was maybe just seeing things or pulling a fast one, but he didn’t take Mark for a prankster and wouldn’t take chances either. He hurried and put on his coat and boots, grabbed his rifle, and exited the cabin to find Tala running in his direction. Together they went down the trail quietly until they heard unfamiliar voices.
As Tala had told him to, Mark stayed hidden in the tree stand. Graham’s heart nearly pounded out of his chest as the three men pulled up their canoe and silently moored it in the brush, out of sight but easy to get to. He and Tala crouched down and Mark could see the intruders were heavily armed and headed toward their camp. Graham heard the men coming up the trail, so he put his arm around Tala’s waist and pulled her deeper into the woods out of sight. He held up one of his fingers to his mouth to tell her to be quiet. He held her closer to his chest and could feel her pulse quicken to match his own. He didn’t hear Mark’s voice, so Graham figured he hadn’t been discovered. It was too risky to use the radios now; Graham didn’t dare make a noise that would expose Mark’s position with the strangers so close.
He aimed his weap
on toward the men as they walked past on the trail, letting them think they were undetected. He wanted to stop them before they got too close to the cabin, but far enough from the lakeside in case they had reinforcements. One clumsy step in the brush at this distance would alert the intruders to their presence. After they’d passed, Tala reached up to whisper in Graham’s ear, “I don’t think they’re preppers.”
With the intruders safely out of earshot, Graham told Tala to go find Mark and to stay hidden unless he called her. Then he tightened his arm around her in a quick hug before releasing her, confused by why he felt the need to do that.
She touched his hand. “Stay safe,” she whispered, and walked through the woods quietly to find Mark.
Graham picked his way through the trees, keeping an eye through the forest for the two strange men. He stopped at the woods’ edge as the two got closer to the end of the trail.
“This was longer than I thought. Let’s just grab one of the girls and get the hell out of here,” one of the strangers said.
Knowing their intent now made Graham’s heart beat even faster, and rage led to an adrenaline surge. Just as Graham lined the nearest one up in his sights, he heard Sheriff growl. One of the guys aimed his rifle at the dog and Graham changed his aim quickly and shot the man. He dropped, but the other two now knew his approximate location and began shooting into the woods blindly.
Suddenly Ennis appeared and began shooting at the two remaining men, who made a hasty retreat back toward their canoe, continued to shoot behind them as they ran. Sheriff was hot on their heels. Graham ran through the woods, worried that Tala and Mark might be in the crossfire. The two strangers were long gone when they heard another shot coming from Ennis’s location. Graham startled Tala and Mark from behind, making Mark yell out, but no one heard him.
They watched the men paddle away toward the other end of the lake, silhouetted between dark water and a dim light from a sickle of waning moon. Sheriff barked his deep-throated warning from the shore. Graham walked Mark and Tala through the woods back to Ennis’s location, where they saw him standing over the twice-shot intruder. Sheriff sniffed the dead body. “You two, go inside. I’ll be there in a minute,” Graham said; he wanted to have a word with Ennis alone.
