Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3

by A. R. Shaw

  When Addy coughed and turned her head away, he said, “That a girl,” then scooped her up, adding his jacket to Macy’s, and rushing up the trail. “Hurry, let’s get her inside. She might have a chance!” he yelled.

  Macy ran ahead to let the others know and to clear a space for the girl. They would need to get her warmed up as soon as possible. As she ran, her heart broke for Sam. His daughter had certainly been exposed now, and, if they managed to save her, her life might not be a long one. She could die of the virus in the next few days even if they managed to save her from the drowning. Macy consoled herself in the thought that at least Sam would get to say good-bye to her.

  As Macy neared the clearing, Sam was being helped out of the truck by Mark and Marcy, the two men hobbling together. Sam saw Macy’s shocked face as she stopped and stared at him; she didn’t have time to warn him. McCann came into the clearing with Sam’s daughter in his arms, draped in death’s blue cast; he rushed her into the house, disregarding any obstacles. McCann never acknowledged Sam’s alert presence; he focused only on the girl.

  “No!” Sam yelled in terrible anguish. “No!” he screamed again, and the sound of it ripped through Macy. Tala held the door open as McCann barreled through with his burden, the expression on her face saying she couldn’t believe that one more tragedy could enter their home today.

  “Oh, my God! Addy,” she said, as Macy pushed in beside McCann.

  “Shut that door. Lock it. Keep Sam out for now.” He looked at Macy. “Where?”

  “Living room. Warmest.” She shoved him in that direction.

  “I said lock the door!” McCann yelled as he hurriedly laid Addy down on the couch. “Blankets!” he yelled to Macy, just before he began CPR on the girl once again.

  Tala complied and pushed in both latches as Sam stumbled up the front steps. She turned to back to Addy and began removing the girl’s sodden boots and socks and rubbing her blue feet, hoping she was more than the corpse she appeared to be. Addy’s whole frame jerked with the effort of the adults to save her life. While Macy tossed and tucked more blankets around her, McCann gave her CPR, and Tala worked on removing her clothing. The whole time Tala yelled, “Come on, baby! Breathe!”

  Macy picked up the chant. “Breathe, Addy! Breathe!”

  Sam broke away from Mark and pounded on the cabin door, screaming for his child. Mark himself only stood by pure will, gazing in shock at the scene while, along with Marcy, he recklessly strained to hold Sam back. Marcy wept, “Sam, Sam, please don’t! You’re hurting yourself. They have her. They’ll save her! You can’t help!” But the enraged father continued to battle all restraint.

  Bang clung to Mark’s legs, also crying. “I—I had to pull her out. She fell in. I didn’t know what to do. I’m sorry, Sam, I’m sorry.”

  McCann bent to repeat the breathing in the little girl’s mouth when a watery choking sounded from Addy’s throat. She struggled, and McCann turned her over to her side, where she expelled water. Most glorious of all, her eyes blinked open wide as she looked at McCann almost questioningly.

  She coughed out more water and cried, “Dad-dee!”

  Outside, Sam heard his daughter’s voice. The door flew open, and he stumbled through, his broken heart swelling, healing, as he dropped to his knees beside Addy. He reached for her, held her, crushed her to him as she coughed and cried. It was the sweetest sound he’d ever heard, the greatest gift, having her skinny arms wrapping around his neck, however feebly she clung. He knew he shouldn’t give in to the selfish desire to have her back with him, even if only for a little while, but he couldn’t help himself.

  “Daddy! Daddy!” Addy cried again and again between spasmodic coughs. A strange man helped Tala keep blankets around her, and Sam shoved the man’s hands back.

  “Get away, from her!” Sam wrapped her tighter in his arms, half turning as he spoke.

  McCann stepped back. “If it’s exposure you’re worried about, it’s too late for that, Sam.”

  Dimly, Sam wondered who this man was, and how he knew his name, but none of that outweighed the need to simply hold his little girl, feel the icy cold of her skin as he pressed kisses to her face. She was so cold! Why had they taken her clothes off?

  The man snapped out orders. “Close that door. Get this room as warm as possible. Heat water and fill containers to put under the covers beside them.”

  Sam grew aware of being pulled by the arms to sit on the couch with Addy on his lap. “Take your jacket off,” McCann commanded. He didn’t know why, but the man seemed to be in charge, and Sam complied, though doing so hurt his chest wound. “Now your shirt. Hold your daughter against your skin. Come on, man. We’re fighting hypothermia, here.”

  Macy tucked more blankets around them both, and then Tala was there with something that felt hot against his skin as she tucked a towel-wrapped object in beside Addy, then another on the other side. Within the pile of blankets around them, he felt his daughter begin to shiver.

  “Ah . . . good,” McCann said. “Now, something warm for her to drink. We’ll heat her from the inside, too.”

  ~ ~ ~

  Graham hung in the doorway, watching the scene unfold in the living room as others saved Addy from the effects of cold and drowning. As Tala ran to the kitchen, she saw him and stopped, staring at him. “What are you doing up?”

  “Need to use . . . radio. Call . . . Dalton,” he slurred. It had felt like miles from his bed to the radio desk, but he’d made it. He’d had to.

  “You and Sam,” Tala said, with both admiration and admonition in her voice. “You guys, you pull fumes from adrenaline.”

  Graham leaned on the side of the desk. “Rick, come in. This is Graham. Do you copy? Over.”

  “This is Rick.” The voice cracked out of the receiver. “Did you say Graham? Over.”

  “Yeah.” He didn’t know how much longer he could stay on his feet. “We found Addy. Alive.”

  There was a pause. “Is she hurt?”

  “She fell through the lake ice.” Graham tried to keep his voice steady, but the effort of being upright and imparting the bad news made his voice wobble. “She’s alive, but she’s been exposed, Rick. It doesn’t look good. Over.”

  “Oh, Jesus!” Rick said. “I’ll tell Clarisse right away. Maybe she can do something to help.”

  “We’re really sorry, man. There was no time to wait for one of you to come here, and Bang . . . well, he had to get her out of the water.”

  “No, no, I understand. Stay tuned. I’m sure Clarisse will want to talk to you. Rick out.”

  39 Hope

  Clarisse watched the doorway as the voices got louder, heading her direction. Dread built within her, a feeling she often found herself vulnerable to after becoming a surrogate mother. Somehow she sensed what she was about to learn would cut a hole clean through her heart. Becoming vulnerable was a price she would gladly pay again to have loved this child as her own.

  She hardened her resolve as Dalton entered the room with Rick right behind him. Dalton’s expression told her everything she dreaded and more.

  “Clarisse. Rick got the call from Graham. They found Addy.”

  “Is she—?” The words would not come.

  “She’s alive. She fell through the ice. She’s been exposed, Clarisse. They had to expose her, they didn’t have a choice.”

  “I need to go to her,” she said quickly. She began to grab necessary items out of refrigeration and put them into her backpack.

  Rick glanced at Dalton as if pleading with him to step in, to make Clarisse wait and listen to reason. Dalton moved into the center of the doorway. Rick joined him.

  Clarisse knew what they were doing but donned her backpack anyway. She took along another sterile suit. When she met them at the door, and they didn’t budge, she said the one thing she knew would get them out of her way.

  “If you don’t let me go, I won’t develop the vaccine.” She made the threat in an ominous and level tone. She meant it. “I’ll leave here an
d go off on my own.”

  Dalton put a hand on her shoulder. “What can you do for her, Clarisse? She’s been exposed. You, of all people, know what that means.”

  “There’s only one thing I can do for her now, and that’s give her the working trial. It needs time to develop the antibodies, but so does the virus. Hopefully she inherited some of Sam’s immunity. If I get the vaccine to her now, she might have a fighting chance. Otherwise, she won’t. Now, move.”

  She made that demand, looking Rick in the eye rather than Dalton. Rick not only moved right away but offered to go with her.

  Dalton interrupted him. “No, they need you here, Rick. Please go ahead and tell Graham that Clarisse and I are on the way.”

  “No,” Clarisse protested. “You can’t go, Dalton. Your sons need you. All the preppers need you.”

  “Clarisse, I’m coming with you. Rick will tell them. They can minimize the risk. I can’t let anything happen to you. Please don’t take any more chances than necessary. We need you,” and then, in a lower tone, added, “I need you.”

  She saw the pain this admission caused him. Despite his grief, maybe even because of it, Dalton needed to keep her close to him now. She was not alone in her fears for Addy, and he’d never leave her to face such a possible loss without him by her side.

  40 Aid

  “They’re coming,” Macy announced, out of breath, in the doorway as she and McCann had finally put the frozen deer carcass away in the greenhouse and walked in from the front door to the bunkroom.

  “Why are you letting them come here?” McCann asked for the second time as the rest of them sat silent. He wondered what the preppers’ arrival meant and why they took such a chance. There was nothing anyone could do to save the girl at this point, he figured; she was going to die no matter what anyone tried to do. From McCann’s experience, once they were exposed the noncarriers always died, despite medical attention.

  So why did I fight so hard to keep her alive after her near drowning? McCann couldn’t answer his own question. He’d known exposure to any of them meant death to the little girl, but instinct, he supposed, had driven him. A life was in danger. His automatic response had been to save it.

  “Rick said Clarisse has something they think might save her. We have to give them room, so we don’t risk exposing them, even though they are wearing those suits. Graham, what do we do?” Macy asked. “Stay in the bunkroom?”

  McCann couldn’t believe this. One of them had threatened him with a gun and, worse, would have killed a little kid just for stepping across a small river. He whirled toward Graham. “You don’t seriously trust them, do you?”

  Sam didn’t give Graham an opportunity to respond. “I trust them. Dalton’s a good man, and Clarisse is a scientist. If she’s got something to help my daughter, they’re welcome to bring it.” He returned his attention to Addy as Tala and Marcy brought more hot containers wrapped in towels to replace the ones that had cooled.

  “We trust them, McCann,” Graham said. “They have more reason to fear us than we do them. They don’t have the virus. They never have had. If they’ve decided to come here, they are the ones in danger. We will all remain in the bunkroom while they’re here, and let them help Addy in any way they can.”

  McCann huffed, but he trusted Graham, and if the man said yes, then he would comply. In his short time with these people he had already come to care for them. Especially Macy; he didn’t want anything to happen to her. He knew Graham was right about the preppers’ tremendous risk coming here, despite their biohazard suits. They must feel like they were walking through the valley of death. Their willingness to do so certainly said something of their character if coming was only to help save this little girl who would die in three to five days’ time anyway.

  ~ ~ ~

  Clarisse rushed over to Addy, and Dalton took one look at Graham sitting at the far end of the bunkroom on a dining room chair with his injured leg propped up on another. “Where’s Mark?” he asked.

  Marcy pointed down at him, where he lay on his bunk. Dalton took one look at his young cousin, used the back of his gloved hand to wipe condensation off his face screen, and strode in to survey the damage. “What in the hell happened to you people?”

  “Oh, you know. Tangled with the locals,” Graham said with a shrug.

  Dalton used his gloved hand to stroke the bruising on Mark’s face.

  “I’m all right, Dalton.” Mark’s voice held little power.

  “Like hell. Look at you, Primo! You’re a mess,” Dalton said, staring at Mark’s neck. “You look like someone tried to slit your throat.”

  “Yeah. That was Sam. So I wouldn’t suffocate. Marcy, show him my straw.”

  “No. And you quit talking,” she said. “Dalton, he had to have a field tracheotomy, his neck was swelled so bad. He got beat up by an old woman with a big club.”

  “Jesus!” Dalton’s voice went high.

  “Things happen,” Mark whispered. “I hear you guys had a fire. What happened there?” he asked, still barely audible.

  Dalton nodded. “Yeah, things happen. Um, we lost several.” He dropped his gaze. “Kim, too, from smoke inhalation.”

  Mark’s eyes widened, and he tried to sit up. Dalton laid a gentle hand on the boy’s shoulder. “No . . . don’t, Mark.” He wanted to move the conversation along without bringing more attention to his loss.

  Disregarding the risk, Dalton said, “I’ll get Clarisse to examine you as soon as she’s done with Addy.” He turned half around. “Your leg looks pretty bad, Graham. Did you wake up a bear or something?”

  “Just a pack of wild dogs. McCann, here, shot them for me.” Graham’s eyes misted over for a moment. “Dalton, I’m sorry to hear about Kim. I do know what that’s like.”

  “Yeah,” Dalton acknowledged. “I know you do.”

  “How are your boys?” Graham asked.

  “They’re as expected, man. They’re young. They don’t understand yet. Hell, I don’t get it yet. I fell asleep in the spare partition, the next thing I knew . . . Steven . . .” He shook his head as the memories from the prior night flooded in. “It’s hard, man.” He turned and went back to the living room. He didn’t want to talk about it.

  Clarisse looked up at him, tears she couldn’t wipe away streaking her face inside the hood of her suit. She understood his awkwardness and, to move things along, she offered a diversion. “I gave her the first injection,” she said. “Now all we can do is hope.”

  “First injection?”

  “Yes. I’ve developed a vaccine. We hope to be administering vaccinations in another week.”

  Clarisse stroked her gloved hand down the side of Addy’s pale face and slid her wet hair back. Tendrils of it had just begun to dry. “With Dalton’s permission, Addy just got the first one.”

  “You mean, you won’t be susceptible to the virus anymore?” Tala asked.

  “That’s right. It will be another month, but I’ll test everyone, and if they have sufficient antibodies, then, we will be basically like you—carriers.”

  Everyone digested this in awed silence. Graham was the first to speak. “That’s amazing news!”

  Dalton only nodded. “Time will tell.” He wasn’t ready yet to accept anything good. This all seemed like some sick dream he hoped would wake up from soon.

  Sam said, “Dalton, Clarisse told me. About Kim. I’m . . . sorry, man.”

  “Yeah.” Dalton looked downward; it was the only way to divert attention from his own pain. He was grateful to Clarisse when she stood and moved off to take care of Graham’s and Mark’s wounds.

  “Well, this looks a little infected,” she said, and everyone’s attention turned to Graham. “But, for the size of the wound, I’d say you were lucky.” She began pulling items out of her bag. Graham sucked in his breath a time or two as Clarisse cleaned up the wound and added a topical antibiotic. “Whoever sewed you up did a great job, considering. You must have lost a lot of blood.”

  “It was our n
ew resident, McCann. He’s come in quite handy since he got here.”

  “Your injury, our fire, Addy’s misadventure. That’s quite a string of unlucky events,” Dalton commented.

  “Yeah, but that’s not all. First, the hunting trip ran into some trouble with someone who, unfortunately, was a little too far gone in this world to deal with the living. Then, I went into town to find something I thought I’d need and got myself attacked in the process, only to be saved by McCann.”

  Clarisse listened to the men talk as she examined the hole in Mark’s trachea. She finished closing it; it had started to seal up on its own, but needed a little help. She applied new bandages. He would have scarring, but the swelling was sufficiently down.

  Then she checked on Ennis, who slept through their ongoing conversations. His pulse was steady, and she listened to his heart and lungs. She nodded and smiled at Tala, who looked at her questioningly to confirm that the meds were doing their work.

  Finally she turned her attention to Sam, who only let her take his daughter from his arms long enough for her to check out the knife slash on his chest and make sure the back of his head was only bruised, not caved in. Right now the only thing that could be done for Graham, Mark, and Sam was to let them rest. They should all be in bed to let their bodies do the work needed to heal them, along with the aid of antibiotics, in Graham’s case. Sam just needed a lot of rest and the reassurance Addy was safe, for now.

  Clarisse could only hope that Addy would not come down with the virus at all. Only a few days would tell them for certain. Having done everything that she could do, Clarisse hugged Addy one last time and told Tala to call her several times a day with updates. With a last good-bye, Dalton led Clarisse out of the cabin and back to their own side of the Skagit River, where they had many other crises to deal with.