by Pike, JJ
She’d told one teensy little, necessary lie and everything was falling apart. She hadn’t pulled the trigger. Cassie wasn’t dead because of her. If anyone had asked her, she wouldn’t have condoned it. Her life was about health and healing. “Please, Nigel. Stay. I need you.”
“Better,” he said, “but not what I’m looking for.”
“Why?” Her calm façade split up the middle letting years of pent up frustration out into the open. “Why isn’t it enough? I mean it when I say I can’t do this without you. I need you. Is that it? You want me to tell you how much I need you? It’s true. One hundred percent. I couldn’t have done all this on my own. We’re a team. Thank you.” She forced a smile. She’d gone about it the wrong way. She didn’t need to browbeat him, she needed to praise him. He wanted her to acknowledge his hard work. “You’re amazing. Seriously. You’re the most accomplished nurse I’ve ever met. And kind. And thoughtful. You’ve given us so much of yourself. I’m in awe.” She stood at the side of the humming car, breathless and excited. She’d nailed it. He was going to stay and help. It was all going to be okay.
“It’s not about me. It’s about you, Betsy.”
For more than 20 years Betsy Asher had been going to AA meetings, turning her soul inside out, praying to God for His care, but when the rubber met the road she was plain old Betsy McGinty, who blamed other people for her mistakes when she felt cornered. He was right. She needed to hold the mirror up to herself and take an accounting of her misdeeds. She’d lied. That was all there was to it. She’d told a lie and it had grown legs and come back to bite her in the tush.
“I’m sorry,” she said.
“Too late.”
“I know.” Her arms hung at her sides, limp and lifeless. “But that doesn’t make me less sorry.”
“If you’d started there,” said Nigel, “and admitted your error, I’d have listened to you.”
The tears ran down Betsy’s cheeks.
“Best of luck. Go west. Soon. Don’t stay at the mines for too long. They’re only useful while you’re down there. As soon as you come up for air, you’re breathing in contaminants.”
The car eased down the driveway taking with it a nurse she could have convinced to stay if she’d been honest from the start.
Jim stood on the back porch, Bryony clutching his hand.
Sean and Aggie had brought Midge out on the stretcher and were standing by the side of the house.
Mimi was at the front door, arms folded across her chest.
They’d all heard her beg and wheedle and lie and chase Nigel away. No, it was worse than that: they’d heard the terrible things she’d said about them.
The questions fell on her like an avalanche:
“Are Midge and Paul and Mimi really going to die?”
“When?”
“How?”
“What can we do to prevent that?”
“How contagious is Bryony?”
Betsy pushed past them and into the house, their voices blending together.
“I’ll head out as soon as we get Midge to the Mines,” said Sean. “I’ve still got contacts. Don’t worry, Mimi, we’ve got you covered.”
“No, of course she’s not contagious, Betsy was just concerned about the cut on her arm. We’re safe. We’re moving. We’re all going to be fine.” Jim was doing his best to mend the damage she’d done.
Petra’s crying wove through the words, giving the scene an eerie quality. “Is Paul dying? Why won’t he wake up? Is she going to leave him here? What do I do? She said I wasn’t supposed to touch him.”
Betsy held the cut crystal tumbler in one hand and a bottle of gin in the other. “One martini, coming up.”
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Bill undid his seatbelt and forced himself out of the car. The roads leading to Lake Placid Lodge were a parking lot. People had abandoned their cars and walked. He and Alice were going to have to do the same. It was too soon to take another painkiller, but the adrenalin was going to keep him afloat. The kids might be close by. They were at least going to get a clue as to their whereabouts. He couldn’t allow Alice to go ahead on her own. She might tell him the symbol Aggie had left meant the kids had gone north, when in fact they’d gone west. He wouldn’t put it past her.
Alice was waiting for the dogs. Maggie-loo had peed as soon as she’d gotten out of the car, but Mouse needed to inspect every blade of grass before peeing on it. Alice put together a bag—two guns, four boxes of ammo, her water filter, and some beef jerky—and slung it over her shoulder.
“You can stay here if you like,” she said.
No way Bill was going to fall for that. “I’m coming with you.” He couldn’t put a bag together. Nor carry it. He was at her mercy.
They stared at each other, strangers now, divided by their philosophy. It was madness. She was still Alice. He was still Bill. How had he let it get here?
“I’ll take a picture,” she said.
She could carve a symbol and trick him that way. He had to go with her. The kids’ lives might depend on what happened in the next half hour.
They trudged in silence, the dogs running back and forth eager to play whatever weird game the humans were playing.
The Everlee Family Emergency Plan was more robust than most people’s. They picked out their rendezvous point years earlier and practiced getting to it many times. It was a tree, far enough from the public footpath that it wasn’t easy to spot, but close enough that they didn’t need to slog through a marsh to get to it.
If the family was separated for any reason, you were to make your way to the tree immediately. If no one arrived within a 12-hour period, you were to carve a symbol in the trunk letting others know when you were there and where you were going next. If no one showed up, you were to return to the tree (if possible) the next day; then skip a day; then come back every other day until you found each other or, if you couldn’t make it every other day you were to come back as often as you were able until two more weeks had passed. They’d been gone longer than a week. They’d kept it simple, using the Red Cross designations as their base code, but personalizing it so not every Tom, Dick, and Harry could see who’d been there and where they were hiding out. They were going to find a series of messages—probably all from Aggie—telling them where they’d made camp.
Bill realized Alice didn’t have time to carve that many symbols into the trunk just to trick him. They’d swapped roles. He was being paranoid. He was the worrywart now, and she was the do-er. That wasn’t fair. She’d always been a do-er, just one shot through with fears and worries. He had no idea what was going on inside her head. He didn’t want to know. If she lectured him again about saving the world he was liable to punch someone. Not that his good hand—your only hand, dude, get used to it—should be used for anything as foolish as fighting.
As they rounded the curve in the path they were met with a large, well-armed man. He held up a hand, stopping them in their tracks. “Show me your pass.”
“Pass?” said Alice.
“No pass, no entry,” he said. “Sorry. We’re all full up.”
“We’re not looking to stay.”
“That’s what they all say.”
Bill stepped in front of Alice. “We want to see if our children are here. Then we’ll be on our way.”
“Sorry. No pass, no entry.”
Alice and Bill communicated with the smallest of gestures. They were in agreement. They’d go through the trees a mile down the road.
“I know what you’re thinking.” The guard had his hand on his gun. It wasn’t pointed at them, but it didn’t need to be. Alice’s guns were in her backpack (rookie error) and Bill had none (one-armed bandit error).
The dogs were happy to make a new friend. They’d never be any use as protection, but if they ever found themselves in a situation where slobbering on someone while you wagged your tail was a form of defense, they’d be all set.
“We’ll be off.” Alice turned, her hand in the small of Bi
ll’s back pushing him down the path and towards their van. “Maggie-loo. Mouse. With me.” The dogs came at her command. Even they thought she was the boss of all the world. What chance did the kids have? She was charming, persuasive, and in charge of her surroundings. People did what she asked just to see her smile. He was going to need to bring every argument in his arsenal to bear.
“There are sentries all around the perimeter. You can’t get in. Don’t bother trying.” The guard was friendly enough, but unyielding.
“What’s so special that you have to guard it like this?” Bill stopped and turned to face the guard.
“It’s a clean zone. Everyone this side of the line is healthy.”
“Good luck with that.” Alice probably meant it. She wasn’t one for sarcasm. She genuinely wanted those people to remain healthy. She was thinking of the safety of people like him; people who were willing to deny them entry to a hotel’s grounds, simply because they didn’t have some “pass.” How could she choose him over Paul or Petra, Aggie or Midge?
Alice didn’t let up the pressure. The second she was done talking to the guard, she put her hand in the small of his back again and pushed him forward. He let her guide him back to the car.
“I’m going in alone,” she said.
There was no way he’d make it over the uneven terrain. His drugs were only just keeping him this side of sane. If he bumped his stump or fell he’d be a basket case. There was only one choice: he had to trust his wife.
She unpacked her backpack of the nonessentials, taking only her weapons.
“You’ll take pictures?”
She nodded. “Give me the camera. It’s in your door.” She hit the key fob and unlocked the car.
Bill felt around in the compartment that was built into the door. It was a happy-sad moment. This was where they’d kept the family camera, back when none of the kids had phones. They’d been a snap-happy bunch, making sure to catalogue every moment of every trip. That Alice had stashed a camera there plucked at his heart strings. He handed the camera over, ashamed he had so little trust left.
“Get in the car. Lock the doors. Don’t let the dogs follow me.” She was careful of his safety as well as the guard’s. It wasn’t that she didn’t care about him and the kids, but that she cared about everyone else, too. Could he honestly fault her for that?
“If you’re caught?” He tried to let the softness he felt for her show. It was hard. He was torn. “Will you shoot to maim or kill? I don’t want you being taken prisoner.”
“I won’t be.”
“But if you are?”
“Then find a way in, find the messages Agatha has left, and find your way to the children.”
“I hate this.”
Alice stared at him, unsmiling. “So do I.”
“I want us all to be safe.”
She sighed. “There’s no point talking about it. We want the same things. We’ve agreed: we’re going to find the children and give them a choice.” She didn’t wait for an answer. She bundled the dogs into the van and did the same to him. She shut the door and took off without a backward glance.
Bill needed to stay busy. He’d already checked the gas gauge when they pulled up and parked the van. They had three-quarters of a tank. She had to have filled up when he was sleeping. With no gas stations open that meant she’d been syphoning it from other cars. Was there anything she couldn’t do?
Maggie-loo climbed into the front seat, rested her head on the wheel, and watched for Alice.
Bill hit the radio switch. There might be updates. He could be useful that way. Find out what was going on in the world.
The keys weren’t in the ignition. Nor were they tucked over the sun visor. That’s right, she’d taken them with her. Trust between them was broken. He wasn’t sure she’d tell him where the kids were and she didn’t trust him not to take off while she was gone. Bill fought off the blues. They’d fix it. They’d weathered worse.
Alice’s cell phone rang. She’d left it in the driver’s side door in the little holder above the arm rest.
“Hello?” he said.
“Bill?” It was Fran. “Is Alice there?”
“No.”
“When will she be back?”
“Half an hour?” It might be less, but if she was going to creep past guards it might take her longer to get to their tree and back. “Can I take a message?”
“There’s a storm in the Western Caribbean.”
“Uh-oh. That doesn’t sound good.”
“It’s already a Cat Two.”
“Okay.”
He could feel her rolling her eyes on the other end of the line. He wasn’t asking the right questions or giving her the kind of feedback Alice would provide.
“If it gathers strength and moves north it’s going to push MELT inland.”
That was bad news.
“Even if it doesn’t gather that much strength it can do immeasurable damage.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“How’s she holding up?”
What could he say to that? The world was falling apart and Alice was doing just fine. She hadn’t freaked out or had a meltdown. She was considering how best to halt MELT’s forward march.
“Bill?”
“She’s okay.”
“Not having any issues…?” Fran knew more than most about Alice and her history.
“No. On the contrary. She’s thinking about how to help you guys remotely.” No need to mention the issue of the kids and their immunity.
“Tell her we’re about ten miles from your cabin. It’s slow going, but we’ll be there by nightfall.”
“Will do.”
“Oh, and Bill?” She waited. “Tell her ‘sin arrepentimientos.’ Can you do that for me?”
“Sin arrepentimientos? As in ‘no regrets?’”
“Yep.”
“You’re brave, Fran. And kind. She’ll appreciate that.”
‘Don’t forget, Bill. Sin arreptentimientos.” She hung up.
How many friends did Alice have who would have left her a message in Spanish? None. Fran was the closest thing Alice had to a non-family-member friend. Even Christine Baxter, of whom Alice took such care, was a colleague rather than a friend. There’d been that creep at their barbeque who’d hit on her, but Alice was having none of that. He was persona non grata as far as she was concerned. Bill found himself warming to his wife again. She was coming at this problem all wrong, but for all the right reasons.
Maggie-loo barked, five short, staccato yelps, high-pitched and insistent.
Bill turned to see three men at the back of the van, trying the door. Lucky Alice had locked up before she left. They moved to his side of the van. They didn’t seem the least intimidated to find someone home.
“More barking please, Maggie-loo,” he said.
She and Mouse watched the would-be thieves, their tails wagging in perfect sync.
“Got any food, man?” The guy smiled.
Bill knew better than to smile back. “Sorry. We’re all tapped out.”
The guy stepped up closer. “All those bags in the back and none of them have food?”
Bill wished he’d insisted that Alice leave him a gun. “Nope. Nothing.”
The man tried the handle, clicking it over and over in frustration. “Open up.”
Maggie-loo barked. She didn’t look particularly fierce, but top marks for trying to do your doggie duty there, Maggie-loo. “I don’t have anything,” said Bill. “But there’s a camp up ahead. Perhaps they can help you.”
“We’ve been on the road for days. We’re tired and hungry and we just want one decent human being to do the right thing.”
Bill didn’t know how long it was going to take to find their children. They might have bugged out a few miles or they might be close at hand. Either way, he planned to feed them when he saw them. Sharing with strangers was a thing of the past.
The three of them didn’t speak, but they communicated something with a series of nods an
d grins. The first man stayed put while the other two circled the van trying each door. When they found them locked they returned to their friend’s side, then all three put their hands on the van and pushed.
It rocked.
“Whoa.” Bill pressed his hand against the dash to steady himself.
They pushed again.
The van shifted off its wheels.
Maggie-loo lost it, barking at the top of her lungs. That was Mouse’s cue to join in. His bark made the whole thing comical, it was so small and reedy.
