by Schow, Ryan
That was not Gregor’s decision, though.
He’d bring it up to the guys.
“So do you want to rock, paper, scissors for the chickens?” Gregor asked.
“I’ll do it,” Alfie grumbled.
“No man, I won’t cheat,” Gregor said with a grin. “Let’s rock, paper, scissors.”
“I said I’ll do it!” Alfie barked, his mood worse than ever. He never won at rock, paper, scissors. Never. Not once.
“Well don’t get mad if I laugh,” Gregor said. And with that, Alfie stepped into the chicken coop and started chasing after what birds still remained.
True to his word, Gregor burst out laughing. By then, Alfie had captured half of them. When they were finished loading up the truck, Gregor walked across the property and up on the porch where Danes was sitting tied to the porch swing. He looked exhausted. Gregor started undoing the rope. Danes said nothing.
“Are you alright in there?” Gregor asked.
“Couldn’t be better,” he grumbled.
“What’s your name?” Gregor asked.
“Harvard Danes.”
“Harvard like the school?” he asked.
“My mother got knocked up in college by a guy who said he went to Harvard,” he said, his voice still muffled by the cloth over his face. “She wasn’t that smart. I guess she thought if I ever wanted to look for my father, my name would be the first clue.”
Gregor understood him perfectly. He nearly fell over laughing. The second the ropes loosened, however, Harvard started to topple over.
Gregor stifled his amusement. “I gotcha,” he said, catching Harvard before he fell over sideways.
“Can’t sit in one place for too long,” Danes confessed. “Body just starts to ache and shut down. Think that’s what happened.”
Gregor unwound the bungee chord from Harvard’s head, removing the cloth. He blinked hard against the light, then slowly covered his eyes.
“Too bright,” he said.
Gregor was feeling worse about what they’d done by the minute. “I’m really sorry we had to resort to this,” he said.
“It’s okay,” Harvard said. “I would’ve shot you,”
“What about now?” Gregor asked, standing before him holding out a bottle of Wild Turkey Kentucky bourbon.
All the sudden Harvard sat up, his eyes clearing.
“Is that a Maker’s Keep Decades?” he asked, referring to the specialty bottle Gregor was holding.
“Indeed it is,”
“You know that’s not your off-the-shelf bourbon, right?” Harvard said, licking his lips.
“I know my bourbons,” Gregor said. “This is a peace offering.”
“Are you offering me a sip, or the bottle?”
“The bottle.”
He reached for it and Gregor handed it over. Harvard took it, studied the bourbon like it was the first woman he’d ever seen rather than a bottle of alcohol. Gregor leaned Harvard’s rifle against the porch railing, and then he set the bag of shells beside it.
“It’s still loaded,” Gregor told him.
Harvard nodded, then tried to stand. He wobbled, though, and Gregor caught him again.
“Let me help you inside.” Harvard held out an arm and Gregor walked him inside to a his rocker. He sat him down, then said, “Before I head out, is there anything else you need?”
“A tumbler would be great. You can’t drink this straight from the bottle. That would be sacrosanct.”
“I agree.”
He got a tumbler, opened the bottle to let it breathe, then poured his new friend four fingers worth and handed it over. He sniffed it, smiled and looked up at Gregor.
“This won’t help the body,” Harvard Danes said, “but it sure will soothe my soul.”
And with that, he took a sip, closed his eyes and surrendered to the liquid.
“Well?”
“Jesus take the wheel,” he exclaimed, euphoric, his eyes softer, seduced.
“Promise you won’t shoot me when I come by next time.”
“Are they really dead?” Harvard asked.
Gregor assumed he was referring to the neighbors.
“Yeah, unfortunately.”
“And the dog?”
“Ragnar?”
“Yeah, Ragnar.”
“I’ll nurse him back to health,” Gregor said.
“What about my rifle?”
“I’ll get it now,” he said.
The lack of light in the house was a bit dismal, somewhat depressing. Plus the smells were getting to him. Musty smells layered with the dry stench of old wood and age. He was glad to be getting along with Harvard, but he didn’t want to stay a minute longer than he had to. The house reminded him too much of his grandfather’s place in Barstow.
Gregor grabbed the rifle and shells from the porch, then returned and set them just out of reach. He wouldn’t take that chance with Harvard. There was no way he was risking his life should his intuition happen to be on vacation right then.
“Thanks for the drink,” Harvard said, raising his glass.
“Anytime.”
When they returned to the homestead, Alfie offered to unload the spoils while Gregor said he was off to find Jill.
“Try not to lick her when you see her,” Alfie mumbled.
“Watch it,” Gregor replied.
“It’s in your eyes, partner,” Alfie said.
“That’s just dust.”
When he wandered inside the main house and asked if anyone had seen Jill, Robert spoke up from inside the kitchen. He was just strapping the larger hot water heater in place. “She’s back in the infirmary with Rock.”
Rock. Jill’s boyfriend. The guy who came in with the girl.
Chapter Fifteen
Janice was attending to Rock when she walked in. The RN saw Jill and said, “Will you get some ointment on her face?”
She was pointing to Maisie who was now looking just as uncomfortable with the request as Jill was.
She took the ointment and walked over to Maisie. She looked down at the girl; the girl looked up at her with eyes she quickly emptied of emotion.
“You’re very plain looking,” Jill said, her anger starting to take shape.
“You’re very pretty,” the girl responded, taking Jill off guard. “I see why he loves you.”
Jill huffed, dunked her finger into the antibacterial ointment and started roughly applying it to the wounds on the girl’s face. Much to her credit, even though Jill knew she was hurting her, Maisie didn’t even wince.
Some of the scrapes were opening up and bleeding when Janice came over. The RN saw what Jill was doing, then kindly said, “Stop.” She took the ointment from Jill and said, “You’re not finger painting, for heaven’s sake.”
Janice took a small strip of gauze and began gently patting the open wounds, the ones now bleeding. The entire time, Maisie failed to show one single emotion. Then again, her eyes never left Jill.
“If the only thing that’s messed up on you is your plain looking face, then you can work like the rest of us,” Jill grumbled.
Janice cleared her throat, but Jill ignored the woman. This was not her house. She was a guest here, just like Maisie.
“I’d like to help,” Maisie said, her gaze still locked on Jill.
“You’ll help or you’ll leave,” she told Maisie. “All of us pull our weight around here, no exceptions.”
Rock cleared his throat, causing Jill to turn to him. It was clear he was angry with her.
“Protecting you spoils?” she asked.
He didn’t say anything. She looked down at his ribs. They were taped up, but there was a tremendous amount of bruising all around them.
Janice said, “He’ll heal, but it’ll take time. Maybe you should take a break from…whatever this is.”
Ignoring Janice, Jill walked up to Rock, looked at his ribs, gently placed a hand on them. It was not a loving hand. She looked deep into his eyes and said, “Do they hurt?”
&n
bsp; He drew a defiant breath, then said, “They’re alright.”
“I missed you,” she whispered, just loud enough for him to hear. “I thought you were dead.”
“And now?”
She didn’t know what to say. Instead, she shifted her weight ever so slightly, putting more pressure on his ribs. She watched him wince and said, “Do they hurt now?”
He said, “They’re alright.”
She leaned further. It was easy to see she was hurting him, but everything was perfectly quiet. He started to sweat and she said, “What about now?”
“Fine,” he grimaced.
Janice was finishing up with Maisie. The very thought of Rock and that girl being together had her insides at a full boil.
She had almost no more weight left to put on Rock and he was taking it, but not in stride. When it looked like he couldn’t take it anymore, she said, “That’s how much my heart hurts.”
And then she took her weight off him and turned to Janice.
“What do we have to do to get this guy better?”
“Under ideal conditions,” Janice replied, “we’ll need growth hormones and protein to speed up the healing process. We don’t really have ice packs, but we’ve got ibuprofen which he needs to take regularly to keep the swelling down.”
“What about his diet?”
“Proteins, like I said, but he needs to eat as many fruits and vegetables as he can. If you have calcium, magnesium, vitamin D that will help. Multivitamins, too.”
“What about work?” she asked. “He can’t just lay here like a lump on a log all day.”
“No strenuous exercise, no bending sideways, no heavy lifting. He needs to sleep on his back with pillows under him if he can. That will help a lot.”
“What about walks?” Rock asked.
“Yes, that would be good,” Janice replied. “When you’re up to it, of course.”
“So he can leave then?” Jill asked, looking first at Janice, then down at Rock. “In case I get tired of looking at him.”
Janice looked at Jill, then at Rock, and then she looked at Maisie. Jill saw her putting it all together.
“You know what you need to do now,” Janice said to Jill. “Maybe you should let them rest. Or get them some water. You choose.”
“That one can get up and help,” Jill said, pointing to Maisie. “We have clay that needs to be separated from soil if in the future you want any drinking water or food. Leave that bed for someone who really needs it.”
“Before you go,” Rock said, reaching out and taking her by the arm with a surprisingly strong hand. “I need to talk to you.”
She looked down at him and said, “So talk.”
“I want to tell you that I like what you did with the house,” he said.
“Save it.”
“And I want to know what you’re planning now that we have all these people here and you’ve turned it into a communal homestead.”
“This is now home base for a lot of people less fortunate than us. They’ve lost family, friends, their homes and animals, everything.”
“I’m happy that they’re here,” he said. “But you know how hard it’s going to be trying to take care of everyone?”
“There isn’t a single slacker here,” she said, shrugging off his hand. “We’re pooling together our resources and expanding our perimeter.”
“What about Gregor and his guys?”
“They’re half the reason we’re thinking about expanding.”
“I’m glad,” he said.
“We need to turn this place into something it’s not if we’re to survive,” she said. As angry as she was at him, the familiarity in his eyes, the beautiful contours of his face, caught her off guard. Looking deep into his eyes, her own expression softening, she said, “Why don’t you sleep with me tonight?”
“I should stay here a few more days. I don’t want to put any undue strain on my ribs with a softer bed.”
“Why don’t I take you in there, lay you down, see how it feels. If it’s going to be a problem, I’ll bring you back here.”
“You want to do that now?” he said.
If she could separate the two of them, maybe he could see his way back to her. It was a silly thought because he’d already broken her trust, but it was worth a try.
He nodded his head, then said, “Okay.”
Jill helped him up, Maisie not even looking at them. She could see the strain sitting up was causing, but Rock refused to complain. Slipping his arm over her shoulder, Jill helped him out of the room, down the hallway and into the bedroom she’d been using.
When they got there, he sat on the bed, took a shallow breath that looked painful, then said, “My legs?”
She bent over, scooped him up with an arm under his calves, then slowly lifted his legs onto the bed while pivoting him in place on his butt.
When he was laid out flat, she said, “Well?”
“Help me sit up,” he said, reaching out for her. She did. “It hits the middle of my back and pain is flaring on my left side.”
“Who is that girl?”
The look on his face said he knew this was coming. “Maisie Sullivan is her real name.”
“I heard you guys talking.”
“I know,” he said, his eyes on hers, but the strain to hold them evident in his expression.
“Then you know I know.”
“I gathered as much.”
“Why, Rock?”
“She’s not who you think she is,” he said.
“Who is she?”
He drew a deep breath, let it out, his eyes changing. Where before he was strong, innocent, just a guy in a bad situation recovering, he was now a mask of shame.
“That’s Amber Gunn.”
Her entire world tunneled down, hitting her with a snap of vertigo. “No,” she said, the word falling from her mouth. “That’s not Amber Gunn.”
“Maisie Sullivan started out as a makeup artist in Hollywood. The publicity magicians put her through the celebrity spin machine, crafting a sad story for her on her way into Hollywood. Then they turned her into a star. She wasn’t some girl off the streets. She was a makeup artist. She specializes in it.”
“What about the red hair?”
“That was a wig.”
“But she’s so plain looking,” Jill said.
“I know.”
“Then why?” she asked, a shine coming to her eyes, a vision of them together filling her thoughts.
“I didn’t mean for this to happen, but when it did, I realized I needed to see how I felt being with other people.”
“We’ve broken up before and I haven’t cheated.”
“You keep quitting on me.”
“We keep quitting on each other,” she said.
“I never quit on you.”
“Yet you slept with her,” she said, the pain flooding into her voice. They didn’t say anything, which started to piss Jill off. Then: “Did you sleep with her as Amber Gunn, or Maisie Sullivan?”
“I didn’t know they were the same people, not until afterwards.”
“Amber or Maisie?” she asked, wiping her eyes.
“Maisie.”
“What?” she asked.
“It’s easy to talk with her, and she’s not uptight.”
“You’ve known her ten minutes.”
“I know.”
“We’ve been together for over a year.”
“Yet we’ve broken up four times in that year and life with you is hard. You don’t have the soft touch of a woman. You’re too abrupt.”
“Then don’t do it anymore,” she said as she got up and left.
Outside the door, she wiped her eyes again, took a deep breath, then went to the kitchen to see how Doug was coming along with the water spigots. If there was anything to distract her from the turmoil of a life with Rock Dimas, it would be hard work.
And if that didn’t work, she’d drag Maisie out back and put a bullet in her head. Who was going to stop her?
Only herself.
Chapter Sixteen
Carver Gamble had been following Maria from as far back as he could. She left his sight several times. Twice she’d gone into a house and twice he waited for her just up the street. On the second house, she came out with a bottle of water in hand and some food. He went into the same house after her, risking losing her because his energy was waning, he was hungry and it was hot.
Murderously hot.
After finding a few scraps of food and someone’s open, half-empty bottle of water, he risked searching the house for a weapon.
He didn’t find one, but he did find an old pair of binoculars and about a dozen books on birds. He grabbed the binoculars and hurried out of the house. When he looked for Maria, he couldn’t find her.
She was gone.
Frantically he searched for her, his mind unwinding, his body breaking into a light sweat. Think! Scanning the roads with the binoculars, he felt his doggedness fading.
For a good ten minutes he saw nothing.
Purposely slowing his mind, calming himself, he mentally backtracked Maria’s route leading them to the very spot he stood, and then he carried the route forward to its most logical conclusion. He followed that route, breathless, flustered, doubting every single step.
Then, in the distance, he saw her.
He didn’t know if he was stupid for almost losing her, or if it would have been worse for him to neglect his body. The woman’s energy seemed to know no end. His, not so much. Was she going to stop for the night or just keep on walking? She was the Forrest Gump of evil hybrid humans, and he was a mere mortal.
The simple human needed sustenance, sleep, hydration!
The roads were bright from the sun, the damage in many places unfathomable. To some degree he felt like one day he would numb to the horrors he was seeing, but the next day he’d pass some car that was charred with a pair of bodies inside and he’d fight back the tears, often losing that battle, sometimes for long stretches at a time.
It was difficult to measure the damage this woman and her AI army had done. Even worse, he was sickened by the notion that he was following her, but unsure of what to do. Kill her? Befriend her? Wait until she fell asleep to set her on fire and watch her burn?
