180 Days and Counting... Series Box Set books 1 - 3

by B. R. Paulson

  It wasn’t every day you heard the world was going to end.

  Unless you lived in Bailey’s house. Then, yeah, you heard it every day.

  Chapter 8

  Megan

  Megan didn’t remember much from the night before. She rubbed the back of her neck as she blinked at the sun streaming through the sheer pink window curtains in her room. Since she’d gone to the movies late over a week ago, she’d gotten bolder and bolder, staying out later and leaving almost every night.

  A rash of bumps climbed up the back of her neck, her fingers hesitating as she discovered each one. She rolled to her side, away from the morning light and stared at the mint-green carpet. The movement brought on a bought of nausea. Megan didn’t remember drinking anything the night before. She had a huge biology test that morning and she distinctly remembered telling Stacey to stop handing her cups she wasn’t going to drink from.

  A knock on the door brought her hands up to her chin, clutching the wadded blanket. “Yeah.” Her throat hurt and had a distinct scratch to her tone.

  Her mom pushed the door open, peeking inside with a gentle smile. “Honey, are you feeling okay? Breakfast has been on the table for a while. Didn’t you hear me call you?”

  Megan blinked. She tried to swallow but the throat felt tight and it was easier to just leave the gathering saliva in her mouth. “I didn’t. I’m sorry, Mom. I really don’t feel good.” She didn’t mention the fact that her stomach was cramping and that any moment she might not make it to the bathroom, but she also didn’t want to move. Everything suddenly hurt and the ache was almost too much to ignore.

  Her mom rushed forward, pressing her palm gently against her forehead and then down the side of her cheek. “You’re not overly warm, but you do have… Wait, are those chickenpox?” Bending closer, she inspected Megan’s neck, brushing the hair from her nape. “Well, I’ll be. I guess vaccines don’t work. It looks like you have the chickenpox. I’ll call the doctor and see if he can make a house visit. I’d hate to expose everyone at his office. If he can’t, maybe he can slip us in the back door.” She settled on the side of Megan’s bed. “It looks like you’re of school for the next two weeks, kiddo. I’ll see if I can get some time off work to stay with you, but I need to go in today. Will you be alright?”

  Megan just wanted to sleep. She nodded carefully, uncertain what movements would hurt and which ones wouldn’t. “I’m good, thanks, Mom. I just want to sleep, to be honest.” Nothing mattered in that moment but closing her eyes again. Odd how fast her symptoms had come on. She hadn’t even felt sick the night before or when she’d snuck back into her room.

  The bumps along the back of her neck were starting to itch with an underlying burn.

  Megan didn’t care. She just wanted to go back to sleep.

  Her mother left for work without washing her hands. She took the train into the city, crowded into a packed car and coughing in the general direction of her shoulder, like she was trying to cover her mouth.

  Chapter 9

  Cady

  Venturing out took courage Cady wasn’t sure she had, but she forced herself to leave the Iron Horse anyway. Part of her had hoped Benedict would tell her that he would get it taken care of and she wouldn’t have anything to worry about. Maybe he would say she’d done a great job and that the world was saved because of her.

  Of course, that was foolish thinking. Those were the hopes and wishes of a desperate woman who had nothing else to hold onto.

  She’d left her house that morning with the certainty that Benedict would be able to fix everything – like a last ace in the hole. It had been easier to leave. Easier to walk into the restaurant.

  Now, though…

  Driving wasn’t a big deal. Her black Expedition traversed the late-winter roads with ease. When her husband, Zach, had died, the accident had totaled their car, but she had a four-wheel drive SUV she took out when he wasn’t home. He hated the bulky size of the vehicle, preferring sleeker models when he drove a truck all week.

  Cady liked the safety of the larger vehicle and the boxy-style looked tough – something a woman wouldn’t shirk when she was out driving by herself. The size along with the great storage options made it easy to want to keep.

  No, the driving wasn’t the hard part.

  Parking in a spot at the end of the lot wasn’t hard, either. A lot of people seemed to be out that day, shopping for the weekend, perhaps as they pushed carts from their car to the store or vice versa.

  No, the hard part for Cady was reaching for the handle and pushing the door open. Climbing out of the car and closing the door on the relative safety of its interior was more difficult than she thought it would be.

  For all she knew, Jackson had already released the disease. Any number of the people walking from their cars or from the store could already be carriers. Her hands shook as she lifted her remote and locked her car. A double beep let her know it was done.

  Taking a deep breath, she glanced around at the people huddled in their coats and scarves, funneling into the opening of the warehouse store like ants into a hill.

  She flashed her membership card and nodded at the lady whose harrowed expression could have been Cady’s. Grabbing a flat-bottomed cart designed for larger items, Cady slid into the funnel of people, passing unnecessary items she might have wanted only a month ago.

  But not that day.

  She had to fill up her truck… one. Last. Time.

  That was all Jackson had said she would be able to do. Did she brave a restaurant afterwards? She wasn’t sure what Jackson was releasing on the world – exactly – but if his goal was population eradication, she doubted there would be an Olive Gardens or an Arby’s for survivors to stop into for a break from the crazy. If the virus was even remotely based off a pox virus, they were in for an awful form of a plague that wouldn’t need long to evolve around antibiotics or other medication.

  Cady imagined Jackson’s virus as the smallpox on steroids – MRSA with attitude. The thought was humorous, if it wasn’t so horrific.

  The front left tire of the cart shook with an erratic vibration that squeaked, barely audible under the hum of the crowd.

  Cell phones, televisions, gold watches and computers brought a sad smile to Cady’s lips.

  Hesitating at the books and movies, she interrupted a man with a store-logoed shirt. “Excuse me, I’m planning on loading up some carts this morning. Could you grab me a couple more? I’ll pull it along behind me, but I need at least two more.” She smiled sweetly, wishing she could tell him to get his own carts filled and run home, but after her disappointing meeting with her cousin she was aware that no matter what she said, she wouldn’t help anyone there.

  “Of course, ma’am. I’ll bring some right away.” He pointed at the spot and nodded before disappearing.

  Cady stacked up multiple copies of every book she could reach and then some. Maybe… and this was a stretch, if there were survivors she could trade books for items she didn’t have. Honestly, she had almost everything she might need for the next two years, but you never knew what you would need until you couldn’t drive to the store for it.

  The book stack rose, growing larger and larger as she stacked more and more. The employee arrived in time for Cady to grab an armful of books and drop them into the basket of one of the two carts he’d brought. She smiled, ducking to read his nametag. “Thanks, Carl. If you want to watch some money get spent, hang with me and I’ll put you to work.”

  Carl nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” But excitement sparked in his eyes. Cady could only imagine how different the task would be from his normal stocking routine.

  Sad to think he wouldn’t have an opportunity to move out of his current position in life. He’d die without a chance to realize his dreams.

  Blinking back tears, Cady motioned toward the rest of the movies and books. “I need one of each and the CDs, too.”

  Carl’s eyebrows raised but he didn’t question as he systematically did as she instruct
ed.

  The enormity of what was happening threatened to cave in on her. Every person she saw would be dead soon. Everyone. Maybe even herself. She’d only had chickenpox and shingles before. She wasn’t immune to smallpox – no one those days had that immunity. Smallpox wasn’t enough to kill everyone, but knowing Jackson… the twist he’d given the virus would be detrimental to survival.

  She wished she could see what he’d done. Just get her fingers on his plans, his formulas. Twisting her lips to the side, Cady swallowed back the warning and fear screaming through her. She had to stay calm. Get through what she needed.

  Glancing at her watch, she decided to give herself no more than two hours. No more than four baskets. She had to finish and secure her family – or what was left of it – at home. Following that train of thought wasn’t a good one to go down. But as she continued filling the basket nearest her, she couldn’t help worrying about her parents. Her dad and his cancer with her mother who was a little overly-optimistic at times, and unrealistic at others didn’t stand a chance. Why was Margie taking David anywhere when he had Stage IV cancer? He was dying.

  Cady shook her head and lead the way down another aisle. She was starting to collect a crowd of onlookers who had obviously never seen anyone shop with four carts before. Well, gawk away. If nothing else, Cady could deliver one last thing for them to talk about.

  After buying as much of the canned goods, first aid items, and anything else she could grab, Cady thanked the store employees who had helped her, watching as they hooked a new trailer she had to buy from them to load everything into. Her Expedition was large, but her four carts had turned into six.

  Her purchase had been desperate as she’d spent as much money as she could. Jackson had said it was her last chance to shop. She was taking him seriously.

  She called Scott after stopping at Subway and ordering sandwiches to take back to her daughter. “Scott,” She glanced behind her at the growing traffic and then looked forward. “We need to talk.”

  “Sure. Is everything –" Scott sighed. He was already tired of the topic and of her saying they needed to talk. Cady wished there was something else she was calling about, but there wasn’t.

  “We have no more time. I tried warning the FBI, but there’s nothing they can do.” Or would do at that point. Benedict believed her which didn’t mean much when no one would believe him. She took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel with her free hand. “I… I wasn’t completely honest with you earlier. I mean, I was honest, but I held back the urgency of this situation.” Even though she’d told him about it, she hadn’t been as forthcoming as to what exactly was happening. “Look, I was hoping the FBI would tell me they could stop it or that someone was already working on a cure or something. That was my last hope…”

  “Last hope for what?” Scott’s question hung between them.

  “I… it was my last hope that I wasn’t right. So, here’s the thing. Jackson has always been erratic. He said the virus would be released in a few weeks, but I’m not sure what that means exactly – a few weeks from yesterday? A few weeks from the email? Or is it already out for delivery and it has nothing to do with actual delivery dates? The thing is, we need to treat it like it’s already out.” She bit her lip, pressing the gas as the light turned green.

  “I was planning on finishing up some purchases today. What’s the time frame, if you don’t think he’s being honest?” Scott turned into all business and Cady appreciated he kept emotions out of it.

  Talking in the early hours of the morning had been too safe for intimacy. She wasn’t ready for that, especially when he’d most likely be dead soon.

  “Honestly? I wouldn’t push it past this afternoon, but if I was strapped for time, I would say five days, give or take. I don’t know for sure. I’m so frustrated.” Her breath hitched. She had to hold it together. She couldn’t look at the cars around her and see the passengers as people. She had to ignore them. Take them for granted. As far as she was concerned, she had to pretend they weren’t there so that she couldn’t notice when suddenly they really weren’t.

  “Why are you frustrated? I’m more afraid than anything.” And the fear was evident in his voice.

  Cady nodded, even though he couldn’t see her. “I can’t stop any of this. I can’t get a hold of Jackson. I can’t save you or Bailey. I don’t know what to do to make this all better.”

  “Email him. Call the number he called you from.” Scott demanded action, but no more than Cady expected from herself.

  She pulled in front of another car as she fought for the exit. Traffic was only going to get worse the more people that moved north. If things weren’t gone by then. “Every time he calls me it’s from a restricted number. I can try emailing him again… but… he’s determined.”

  “Are you sure there’s no cure?” A tapping sound echoed behind Scott like he used a hammer on something.

  “No. No cure. He wants to kill the population.” Cady couldn’t be more sure of Jackson’s goals. As she worked through his emails, nothing was closer to the truth. How had she never understood how real it was for him? She’d always assumed he was wrapped up in the moment, determined to vent and be greater than everyone, but normally people grew out of that mentality.

  Cady had.

  “I’m surprised he’s settling for the 75% mortality rate you mentioned. Maybe you could suggest more time to work on the efficacy of the virus or whatever he’s using.” Scott clawed at straws like Cady had.

  At the exit’s red light, Cady glanced to the car to her right. A small child in a car seat bobbed her doll up and down on her knee. She moved her head and pigtails moved with her movement.

  Cady considered Scott’s statement. She’d been so sure her dread burgeoned in chest at the thought of what Jackson was up to. But as the reality of where her fear came from struck a nerve deep down inside her gut, she swallowed back the vomit crawling up her throat.

  Jackson had a larger plan in place and he would never settle for a three-quarter success rate. He just wouldn’t do that. He had to already have something in place to round his number closer to three digits.

  She swallowed again, licking her lips as she pressed her foot on the accelerator when the light turned green. Grimly she replied. “What makes you think he has settled for anything?”

  Chapter 10

  Cady

  Closing the gate after she pulled into her drive, Cady blinked back more tears as the chilly winds of another storm blew whispers of cold across her cheeks. She wouldn’t open the gates again, unless she was ready to bugout and then the gate would be closed a last time for who knew how long.

  She didn’t want to think like that as thoughts of the end were more abysmal than the concept of dying with everyone else.

  Cady climbed into her rig and pulled forward on the loop driveway until she was even with the porch and garage. Unloading was going to take some time, especially without any help.

  Her phone beeped. She swiped open her phone screen and glanced at the text, stomping on the brakes as she glared at the message from Bailey.

  I’m hanging out with friends for the last hurrah. I’ll be home later.

  Taking a deep breath, Cady tried to understand that Bailey needed time to say goodbye. Cady, as an adult, was having a hard time processing what was happening and what she knew. Bailey couldn’t be expected to understand everything easily.

  Short of drugs, drinking, and time with boys, Cady couldn’t limit much of what Bailey was going to do in the next day or two. After Bailey got back, Cady would have to explain that the time table had changed. Cady had failed everyone and the FBI couldn’t do anything.

  At least she could say she’d tried.

  But could she? What if she got on Facebook or email and warned everyone?

  Because she would be ignored. People were always ignoring true news in favor of the sensations like videos, commercials, memes, and commercials about perfume.

  Bailey was going to hate hearing
she wouldn’t be allowed to go out again.

  Pulling in front of the house, Cady checked her phone once more for a message from her parents. It wouldn’t kill her mother to call her back, would it? It might just kill her not to.

  How was Cady going to explain to Bailey she didn’t have any more time with her friends? Even worse would be coming up with the mechanisms to keep Bailey at their place. Her daughter knew the neighbors and she knew where they lived and how to ride a bike. She could leave on her own while Cady slept or any number of times.

  Watching Bailey was going to become a full-time job and Cady was nervous for what that meant. If she had to chain her down, she would, but she wasn’t looking forward to it.

  Unloading her purchases was disorderly as Cady just pulled what she could reach from the trailer and from the back of the car and stacked them in a disorganized pile. Each time she loaded more on top she found she had to shove the growing stack away from the edge where it would fall into the dirt.

  The rumble of an engine coming up the drive surprised Cady and she turned to face the approaching vehicle.

  Squinting toward the windshield, she couldn’t make out the face of the driver but Bailey’s tear-streaked face was easy to identify as she climbed from the front seat. She turned back and ground out through tight teeth. “Thanks for the ride. I’ll close the gate.”

  The driver must have said something because Bailey rolled her eyes. “Yeah, I’m not the type to say I told you so, but when you’re dead? Just remember me saying it.” She slammed the door shut and spun on her heel.

  The truck revved off, a black cloud of exhaust spewing from the rear pipe.

  Hadn’t Bailey just left? Cady waited until the sound of the motor disappeared in the distance. Bailey moved to stand on the porch, putting her bag on the boards at her feet. She swiped at her cheeks and forced a cheerful expression. “More stuff? I’ll help.”