The Malefic Nation (Graham's Resolution Book 4)

by A. R. Shaw

  “Where’s your sister?”

  “She’s next door. Olivia has an extra room, and Marcy wanted her own.”

  McCann nodded, filing away the information and knowing that Mark, too, had opted to stay next door. He’d talk to Mark later.

  “Why are you upset?”

  Macy sat on her bed and shot him a flicker of rage. “You know why. I can’t find him.”

  McCann leaned with his back against the door. He could tell she’d barely slept, and he guessed she’d been out most of the night searching for the dogs. She was probably leaving food out for them again, even though he’d warned her that that would only attract deer and bears.

  “We’ve seen signs of them, but they’re smart, Macy. Sheriff’s no ordinary dog. I’m sure he’ll show up eventually. You can’t beat yourself up over this.”

  “He saved my life. I can’t just forget him.”

  “No one is asking you to, Macy. I’ll go out on horseback and search for him today; I don’t think Clarisse needs my help in the lab. Do you want to come with me?”

  Macy nodded. Her lips trembled, and tears flooded her eyes, spilling down her cheeks. McCann crossed the room, taking her into his arms, desperate to relieve the pain in her heart.

  “Macy, we will find him,” he promised, shaking her with conviction.

  “I can’t lose Sheriff, too, McCann. My parents . . . Ennis. I . . . I need him.”

  “I know,” he whispered. “I’m sure he’s waiting for us. He’s watching and waiting until it’s safe to come out. He’s a part of us Macy. He’ll show up.”

  “What if . . . what if he didn’t make it?”

  McCann pulled her harder against his chest. “He did. Don’t even think it don’t give that a chance to come true. And before she could protest he pressed his lips to hers and kissed her. Sliding his hand into the curls of her golden hair, he briefly allowed them both to escape the pain of loss and instead fuse a promise toward something they both possessed—hope.

  Chapter 33 A Birth

  With Bang and Addy’s help, Tala hung clean wet shirts on the line. She was grateful for the assistance, but couldn’t help noticing how she never seemed to be able to get a moment alone; someone always hung in her shadow. Bang confided that Graham had asked him to keep an eye on her, and she couldn’t blame Graham for his overprotective nature. She was so huge she couldn’t even see her own feet. Graham’s shirts had long become too tight around her midsection, and now she opted for the plus-size blouses she had found in the dresser of the house they were staying in.

  It was odd, how she had once had a problem with using other people’s belongings, the lingering smell of the departed still clinging to each fiber, but it no longer bothered her. Someone had once chosen this shirt from a department store for its attributes, be it a certain color, style or price. Now Tala wore it simply because it fit her swollen belly; she had no regard for whatever emotional value was once attached to it.

  The early afternoon was warm already. Mark and Marcy were hunting, and Macy and McCann had gone in search of Sheriff again; a lost cause, Tala now thought. Most of the men were dealing with the prisoners, which left her alone in their house with the younger children. She had thought that washing the laundry and hanging it out to dry would help ease her feeling of confinement. With the two children at her heels she washed a few loads and then let the kids struggle with the basket of wet clothes ready to hang on the line.

  She snapped garment after garment in the air to rid them of wrinkles before clipping them to the line in the warm sun, while Bang and Addy chased one another through the tunnels the drying clothes provided. The damp clothing felt cool against Tala’s arms, and the sun warmed her shoulders and back.

  We could be happy here, she thought. Addy squealed with delight when Bang found her hiding place. The two had become inseparable, and Tala had at one point had to talk to Bang about doing too much for Addy, reminding him that she needed to learn to deal with life without hearing and how to do things for herself.

  Tala reached into the basket for the next item but found it empty. She picked up the empty basket and headed toward the back door of the house. When she turned, a sudden need to scream loudly hit her even before she registered the pain. The children ran to her side. Olivia came running from next door as well.

  Tala clasped Bang’s small arm and yelled, “Get Graham.”

  Bang fled instantly without looking back. Olivia arrived at her side and helped her up. “The baby’s coming!” Tala cried.

  “I heard!” Olivia answered. Addy tugged on Tala’s arm and pointed toward the house. “Yes, let’s get you inside before you have another contraction. Is Clarisse coming? I’ve never delivered a baby before and I don’t want to start now,” Olivia said.

  “I don’t think I can move. I’ve got to push,” Tala said straining with the sudden jolt of pain.

  “No. Don’t do that. I can’t deliver . . . I was asleep when Bethany was born. No, no, no, you need to wait for Clarisse,” she stammered.

  Addy, very serious, tugged on Tala’s arm again and then signed, Let’s get into the house.

  “Yes, okay,” Tala said and Olivia helped her get into a standing position. With the others holding Tala up they slowly made their way to the porch railing.

  The pain hit her again. “Ahhhh!” Tala yelled, doubling over as if some outward force had slammed into her. “I can’t!” she yelled.

  There were four steps to climb, but Tala thought they might as well have been Mount Rainer because she couldn’t attempt an assent of any kind.

  The wave of pain passed after what seemed an eternity, leaving a wet sensation spreading beneath her legs and a compulsion to push like she’d never experienced before.

  “Oh my God, it’s coming!” Tala yelled.

  “Nuh-uh! No!” Olivia yelled and tugged Tala toward the porch, willing her to take a step. “You wait. Wait for Clarisse!”

  Tala knew that was an impossible request when another pain wave began. There was no stopping this. It was happening here and it was happening now. A steady calm overcame her with the mounting urgency to push as the contraction crested the wave. Her eyes met Addy’s. She could hear Olivia talking but tuned out the words. Tala released the railing after the pain subsided and signed for Addy to retrieve a blanket and pillow from the couch. The little girl ran through the door and quickly returned.

  As Addy spread the blanket on the grass, Olivia frantically implored Tala to move into the house.

  Another wave was beginning as Tala lay down on the blanket in the shade of the house and Addy helped her remove her wet shorts and underwear. Olivia reluctantly knelt beside Tala and held her hand. “I don’t know what to do!” she cried.

  Addy signed to her to get more blankets, and Olivia released Tala’s hand and ran into the house. Tala lifted herself onto her elbows and strained against the pain. Olivia screamed Graham’s name inside the house, but Tala barely registered it, so absorbed was she in the pain of her labor. With Addy kneeling by her side, she mounted the crest of another pain wave, screaming. Then, suddenly, Graham appeared at her side.

  “I’m here. I’m here, and Clarisse is on the way,” he said.

  “The baby’s coming now,” she said with an urgency no one could ignore.

  Graham smiled down at her with a silly grin. “Yes, I can see that; you’re not usually outside half naked.” He leaned over her to look below and said nervously, “The head’s almost out.”

  Clarisse arrived, and everything happened in a rush of urgent voices and commands. Soon the sound of an infant, alive and wailing, filled the air, and others rushed to the backyard. “Everyone back,” Clarisse screamed, angry as a bear, as she held the child tightly. “Graham, you’ve got to go to my office. Now. Get the incubator. Graham, now! Go!”

  Rick arrived with the incubator before Graham had even crossed the road, and together they brought it to Clarisse.

  “Put it down and back away. Both of you,” Clarisse demanded, qui
ckly taking the child to the machine after cutting away the umbilical cord.

  Graham then went back to Tala’s side. She was shaking and her teeth chattered. Blood and fluid covered everything, and someone handed him a blanket, which he wrapped around her.

  “Is the baby okay? Is it a boy, or a girl?” Tala asked him with wild eyes.

  It suddenly occurred to Graham that he didn’t know the answer to either question. Clarisse hovered over the incubator and Dalton helped her carry the contraption into the house and to the designated room where they intended to keep the baby under surveillance. They spoke in hushed tones. The infant’s cries echoed in the plastic box. Soon they seemed far away, and Graham was torn between rushing to the baby or remaining at Tala’s side.

  McCann and Macy arrived on horseback, having rushed back from the woods after hearing Tala’s screams. McCann flung himself from the mount and rushed to Graham and Tala.

  “She’s still bleeding,” Graham said to McCann.

  “Where’s Clarisse?” McCann asked.

  “With the baby.”

  “Let’s get her inside.” They wrapped Tala more tightly in the fresh blanket and carried her into the house and to their bedroom.

  Tala heard the muffled tones of the baby crying. She closed her eyes and relished in the sound. “Is the baby okay?” she asked again.

  Leaving McCann at Tala’s side, he said “I’m going to find out. I’ll be right back.”

  Entering the hallway, Graham found Sam standing in front of the closed bedroom door. Sam placed his hand on Graham’s shoulder and shook his head. “You can’t go in there, Graham. Just hang on. I’ll tell you as soon as I know anything.”

  The baby continued a steady cadence of wails; it tore at Graham’s soul. That was his child in there, his and Tala’s, and he was being kept away.

  “I don’t . . . I don’t even know if it’s a boy or a girl. Can’t you tell them, we need to see it, even for a moment?”

  “It’s for the child’s own good, Graham,” Sam answered. If it catches the virus now, it may not survive. You have to understand that.”

  Graham suddenly realized Sam was holding him back with force. They struggled.

  “Graham—stop!”

  “I need to know. Tala needs to know!”

  The door swung open suddenly, and there Dalton stood. Both he and Clarisse were in sanitary suits. That’s when the seriousness of the situation hit Graham, and he and Sam both stumbled backward, gaining as much distance as they could from the child in the clear box at the far corner of the room. Clarisse leaned over the box; a bright light shone from within it. The room was warm.

  “Graham, I’m sorry it has to be like this,” said Dalton. “It’s a girl, and so far she’s healthy. Now please, for your daughter’s sake, let Clarisse do what she needs to do.”

  Graham nodded, standing as Dalton closed the door and longing to hold the new life—his daughter—on the other side. Sam reached out to give Graham a consoling pat as McCann appeared in the hallway.

  “Clarisse! Clarisse! It’s Tala—she’s hemorrhaging!”

  Graham ran into the room to find Tala pale as death. “No!” he yelled.

  Macy, stricken with fear, sopped up the bright red blood flowing from beneath Tala’s body.

  “Graham?” Tala said reaching for him.

  He held her, putting his mouth close to her ear. She was cold and weak. Someone pounded on a door down the hall. He heard more yelling.

  “Graham?” she said again.

  He looked her in the eyes and tried to smile. “Tala.” He swallowed. “It’s a girl. She’s beautiful, like you. She’s healthy. They’re keeping her safe. Please . . . please hold on. You’ll see her soon.”

  “Why didn’t you tell me?” Clarisse yelled at McCann as she entered the room.

  “It just started!” he yelled back.

  Graham held Tala. He could tell she was fading. Death was a familiar fiend by now. He recognized its hallmark in an instant.

  The syringes and medicinal scents moved beyond Graham’s periphery. He cradled Tala’s head in his arms, paying no attention to what they were doing. She hung onto his arms, but her hold was weakening. If these were to be her final moments, he would selfishly steal them as his own to keep inside until his own last days.

  “Where’s the afterbirth?” Clarisse yelled order after order. “There’s got to be a missing piece. Administer the oxytocin! Start the IV! Macy, begin packing her. She’s type O; who’s got it? Let’s get a line going!”

  They tugged at Tala’s body, but Graham held her attention. The room began to fill with all the strangers who’d become family. He held her still. She was pale, and her blue lips trembled with cold, but she continued to stare into him. She knew.

  “She’s a girl?” Tala managed a weak smile.

  “Yes,” he whispered, stroking her ebony hair away from her pale face.

  Tala clutched at his shirt with her left arm and pulled his lips toward hers, kissing him gently. “I love you, Graham. You’re going to be a wonderful father.” She enunciated each syllable with fading breath. Her eyes began to blink.

  “Tala? Tala!” He asked it at first, then screamed her name in anguish as her eyes closed for eternity. “Clarisse! Do something!” When he stood up, the sight of all the blood covering Clarisse and the others trying to help her nearly made him faint.

  Clarisse paid no attention. She frantically began heart compressions. Macy began crying while McCann continued to push blood, coming directly from Sam, into Tala’s veins. But she was lost.

  Chapter 34 Devastation

  “It’s been nearly a week,” Harding said. “I realize your people are devastated after the death of Tala, but we need to get answers from your prisoners or let them go.”

  Dalton stared at the dust clumps gathered beneath Harding’s metal desk. Yes, devastated. Everyone now walked in a zombie-like state from morning till night.

  If it hadn’t been for the infant to care for, Clarisse might fade away, too. It had all happened so fast, and she blamed herself. Tala had never even gotten to see her own child. And Graham? He wasn’t even human at the moment. He didn’t sleep, but sat outside of the child’s door day and night when he wasn’t standing at Tala’s freshly mounded grave. If the baby didn’t exist, neither would Graham, and Dalton couldn’t blame him one bit.

  So far the baby girl, as yet unnamed, had not so much as ran a temperature.

  “We’re not letting them go,” Dalton said and lifted his eyes just enough to send Harding an ominous look. He let it sink in before saying anything else. “They know where we are, now, even though they were unconscious when we brought them here. It’s too much of a risk. Besides, they’d slit our throats the moment we turned our back on them. I’m not letting them go only to have to deal with them another day. No, we’ll do the responsible thing and execute them when we’re done.”

  Dalton gave Harding time to rebut, but Harding only tapped his pencil on the desk. Dalton resisted the urge to seize his damn pencil and snap it in half.

  “How is Clarisse holding up?”

  Dalton took a deep breath. He shook his head. “She’s having a very tough time. We all are.” Standing to leave, he said, “Henry, I’ll let you know as soon as we have any information from the terrorists. We’re not letting them go. Let us deal with things our own way.”

  “Wait. How’s the infant?”

  Dalton stopped and turned to answer him. “So far, she’s healthy. We’re watching for the virus around the clock. Clarisse is giving it two weeks to show up. We’ll keep you posted.”

  “Was she born with the antibodies?”

  “Yes, some. She’s also been inoculated. She could still come down with it at this point, though.”

  “Must be tough for Graham,” Harding said crossing his arms across his chest.

  “It’s a whole new kind of hell,” Dalton whispered in a choked voice as he left the room.

  Chapter 35 Mourning

  �
�I’ll take care of the baby, Clarisse. You go ahead to the lab. Macy and I can handle her,” McCann said as he recognized Clarisse’s dilemma. She hadn’t slept more than a few hours total in the many days since Tala’s death. Everyone was falling apart. Graham sat outside the baby’s room in a chair, often with a weeping Bang in his lap. He didn’t talk.

  Marcy and Mark had taken over Bang’s care. To say the boy was distraught was an understatement. He said almost nothing, made muffled cries, delirious in pain. He and Graham both resembled zombies. Looking at Graham in despair, Macy asked, “What are we going to do?”

  “I don’t know,” Mark responded.

  He didn’t have an answer. His own heart felt as if it had been impaled on something; a sharp pain in his chest constantly reminded him of the wonderful mother Tala had been, even to him, and how they’d lost her. The baby would never know the pleasure of having Tala to care for her.

  It was the greatest wrong Graham had ever experienced. It just shouldn’t be this way. He blindly patted Bang on the back in a vague effort toward comfort, though he himself was lost. His grief had stolen his soul; only his physical form remained. Since the birth he had hardly left the baby’s doorway.

  In short, McCann found himself as leader of Graham’s wounded gang. He kept them all fed and rested. He had led Graham home from Tala’s grave, mindless in pain. He rocked Bang to sleep, and looked in on the motherless infant in the incubator. Wearing fitted gloves, he changed her diaper and fed her from a bottle sometimes, though Macy had taken over most of the baby’s daytime tasks. It had been almost a week, and no one was yet ready to move forward in even the simplest of ways. They all held fast to the anguish within themselves.

  They lived in a hell that McCann doubted they could climb out of, and his own strength was fading after caring for everyone night and day. It trickled away a little at a time like a leak from a reservoir.

  Clarisse gazed at the sleeping infant through the plastic. The baby was perfect in every way. So far, they’d gotten away with calling her “the baby,” but soon Graham was going to have to give the child a name.