The Berne Apocalypse (Book 1): Jacob's Odyssey

by Russ Melrose

  We went over the back fence and were on our way. Jupiter Drive was clear of the infected and we crossed the street. The house directly across the street looked vacant, and for a moment, I considered holing up there. But it wasn't a serious thought. While it was right at the bottom of Lois Lane and would give us a view of South Hale, we were too close to the area of the gunshots. We needed to put some distance between ourselves and South Hale.

  We traveled through backyards to make sure we wouldn't be spotted. It was critical we go unnoticed. Everyone was tired but we kept moving. I was surprised by everyone's resilience. It only took us twenty minutes to get to Apollo Drive and a few more minutes to get to South Fortuna Way.

  I was hoping we could go a block down Fortuna Way before we stopped for the day, get as far away from the gunshot area as possible, but I'd settle for the first abandoned home with an attic. With all the infected that would be in the area by tonight, having an attic to retreat to if they started breaking into homes was critical.

  I hadn't mentioned anything to them yet about the possible need to stay in an attic. That could wait till we got inside.

  The fourth home down Fortuna Way had an attic fan on the roof. Its windows were uncovered and I could see an attic vent high up on the side of the house. It was a two-story home with teal-green wood siding. A basement too. It was perfect.

  Sarah and Raj were so tired, they paid little attention to my lock pick wizardry, though Becky looked on rapt with fascination. She stood behind me the whole time. Once I opened the door, I grabbed the Glock and went in. I had told them last night they'd have to wait till I cleared a house before they would be able come in.

  I scouted the house out as fast as I could. I didn't want them sitting out in the heat any longer than was necessary. First, I found the thermostat and turned it down to sixty. Then I cleared the rooms faster and more casually than I ever had. I was almost lackadaisical in my due diligence. I sensed there were no infected here and it bothered me to no end that they were outside waiting for me. I located the ceiling entrance to the attic in the hallway upstairs. I found food in the fridge and a Toyota Tundra in the oversized two-car garage. And that was good enough for me.

  Chapter 14 – Purified by Fire

  The keys to the Tundra were in a colorful ceramic bowl on a slender side table in the hallway just outside the door to the garage. Once out in the garage, I placed the keys on the hood of the truck. It was a late model Tundra with a black metallic finish. Alex would have loved it, but I wasn't too thrilled. Far too big for my taste. A RAV4 would have been more to my liking. I had to hope nothing would happen that would necessitate my having to get behind the wheel. I looked in the front cab area and saw that the Tundra had an automatic transmission and that made me rest easier. While I occasionally would drive Alex's Jeep, I never really felt comfortable driving a manual stick shift.

  After I left the garage, I grabbed a chair from the dining room and lugged it upstairs. My thigh muscles didn't like the stairs much. I placed the chair under the attic entrance and stepped onto it. Very carefully, I lifted the trap door to the attic and set it aside. I stuck my head up through the opening and looked around. It was a typical attic with two-by-four framing and insulation. Nothing else. Despite the attic fan, I could feel the intensity of the trapped heat. The attic air was stale and dense. Not ideal, but it would be adequate if we had to use it. And as long as the infected hadn't breached the house yet, we could always leave the trap door open to benefit from the air conditioning. I left the trap door where it was and left the chair underneath the opening just in case.

  I decided to check out one of the bedrooms that faced the street. I wanted to see how far down South Fortuna Way I'd be able to see. The bedroom belonged to a teenage girl. From the look of her room, she was a typical teenager. Oversized posters of Katie Perry and Beyonce adorned the walls. I checked out the window next to the bed and saw Fortuna begin its southward bend, but I could only see about a half a block down the street.

  I went down to the kitchen and grabbed a t-bone steak and a package of frozen mixed vegetables from the freezer and headed downstairs. The family room was set up around a sixty-five inch Sony 4k Ultra television. The furniture formed a u-shaped viewing theater opposite the television. A dark beige sofa backed against the wall was the centerpiece. It had an oak coffee table in front of it. The coffee table was flanked by two large matching arm chairs angled toward the television.

  Raj sat yoga style on the nearest arm chair, meditating, his back stiff as a flag pole. He stared right past the television into nothingness. But he hardly looked peaceful. His face sagged with sadness.

  Sarah and Becky were in the other arm chair. Sarah held a frozen bag of peas I'd given her against her left cheek and eye. I'd also given her a wash cloth to wrap around the bag. I'd made the bag of peas malleable by running a little warm water on them till they broke apart. I thought it would help to form fit the bag against Sarah's face. Becky sat in her mother's lap, her head resting on her mother's right shoulder. She held her stuffed bear, Ralphy, in her lap. She had already regaled her mother and Raj with the story of what had happened with the Swimmer and the other infected we'd run into. And now she was quiet and peaceful, contented.

  Sarah was off somewhere much like Raj, though without the deep sadness. She stared across the room, her lone visible eye blinking intermittently. Her mouth was serene, stoic. She wistfully toyed with Becky's close-cropped hair for a few moments, then tenderly cupped the back of Becky's head with the palm of her hand, lovingly comforting her daughter. And it was then that I realized what a good mother Sarah was and just how close she and Becky were.

  I was left with the couch. I felt a little odd sitting alone on the couch while Sarah and Becky were huddled together in the arm chair, but that was the way they wanted it. I sat in the middle of the couch on a soft microfiber cushion and placed the t-bone steak and the mixed vegetables on my thighs. After a minute or so, they felt incredibly cold on my bare flesh. And I realized I should have grabbed a couple wash cloths for myself. But I was far too tired to get them now. Whenever my thighs felt too cold, I shifted the steak and vegetables around or took them off for a few minutes. The cold penetrated and numbed my sore thigh muscles and for that I was thankful.

  Everyone was quiet, lost in their own thoughts. I wasn't lost in my thoughts so much as I was rambling around in my mind in a disjointed fashion. I tried to focus on what we needed to do to get to our destination tomorrow, and I did my best to avoid thinking about how close Raj had come to being bitten or how something worse might have befallen Becky. But my mind kept going back to those thoughts anyway, and I had to keep pushing them out. Part of me wanted to assign meaning to what had happened, but I knew it would be pointless. I knew I'd want to blame myself for nearly getting them killed. I had to keep reminding myself that they were still alive, still okay, and that's all that mattered. Then a different thought began to plague my mind. I couldn't stop thinking about why the Swimmer hadn't bitten Becky or attacked her. It just didn't make any sense.

  Sarah suddenly eased her way out from under Becky and stood up from the chair. She bent down and squeezed Becky's hands for a moment and smiled at her and kissed her on the forehead. Then she came over to the couch, removing the bag of frozen peas and the wash cloth from her face and setting them on the coffee table.

  She kneeled on the cushion next to me and settled down on her haunches, her back perfectly straight. Sarah was a bit of a mess. A semicircular stippling of dark red and purple had formed just below her left eye in the shape of a quarter moon. A large portion of her upper cheek was strawberry red where the blood just under the surface skin had spread from the impact. I could only see about half of her eye and that half was smoky red from the broken blood vessels.

  Sarah smiled awkwardly. And then her chin began to quiver and I knew she was going to cry. She reached over and placed her left hand on top of mine, covering it lightly with hers. I felt apprehensive, but I didn't move
my hand and I maintained eye contact with her. I had to remind myself to breathe. Her eyes were filming over and I knew the tears would start at any moment.

  I waited for her to say something. She swallowed nervously a few times and then came out with it. "Thank you," she whispered haltingly, her chin still quivering. "Thank you for saving my daughter's life."

  The tears spilled over the rims of her eyes, but she made no effort to wipe them away. I surreptitiously licked my lips and tried to generate some saliva from under my tongue, but it was no use. My mouth felt like a desert. I didn't say anything, but I gave her a nod to let her know it was okay.

  She swallowed again and went on. "I'm sorry," she said. "I was wrong about you. I haven't treated you well and I'm sorry."

  I knew she was being sincere. I could see it in her eyes.

  Sarah was having difficulty getting the words out. They staggered falteringly from her mouth. She seemed as uncomfortable apologizing as I was receiving her apology.

  Then she did something unexpected. She touched my upper arm lightly with her free hand. She curled her fingers around my arm and leaned forward and placed her forehead on my arm.

  Her body trembled and she cried softly.

  Becky scrambled out of the arm chair and raced around the coffee table, depositing Ralphy on the coffee table as she went by. She plopped down on the other side of me and took hold of my bicep with both hands and leaned her head into my arm just like her mother.

  "I'm sorry, Jake," she said, looking up to me.

  I glanced at her and she was smiling earnestly at me, though there was a hint of mischievousness there too. She had recovered incredibly well from her ordeal.

  I looked straight ahead, feeling bewildered and uncomfortable. I wasn't used to displays of intimacy, and I wondered how long I'd have to sit there. I suddenly became aware of just how cold my thighs were, but I didn't dare move the t-bone or the vegetables because I thought it might seem insensitive.

  And I don't know if it was out of nervousness or compassion or simply a desire to escape the inertia, but I casually slipped my hand out from underneath Sarah's and then I placed it back inside her hand and we clasped hands together. Sarah's hand was silky smooth and her fingers long and elegant. I squeezed her hand ever so lightly to let her know it was all right. And then she squeezed my hand back. And it occurred to me that the simple touch of our hands spoke a language that was as clear and authentic as anything we could have said to each other.

  Raj's voice broke the spell. "Tell him," Raj said, his voice dry and flat and devoid of emotion. "Jake saved my life today, and he saved Becky's life too. He deserves to know."

  And in the blink of an eye, everything changed. Sarah pulled back and took her lovely hand with her. She wiped the tears from her cheeks with the flat of her hand and tried to compose herself.

  Becky pulled back too. And suddenly her shoulders were slumped and she stared bleakly into her lap.

  I had known all along there was something they weren't telling me, but it suddenly seemed more serious than I'd ever imagined. I hadn't worried about it too much. I'd just been focused on getting them to their destination safely. I didn't care about the rest of it, whatever the rest of it was. If I could get them where we were going safely, everything would work out and I'd be free to go to the cabin.

  "There's something I need to tell you, Jake," she started. She blinked several times and used her forefingers to clear the tears from her eyes. "I should have told you back at the house. Raj told me I could trust you, but I was afraid. I'm sorry. I should have trusted you."

  She hesitated and her hand trembled noticeably as she wiped another tear away. "She's not contagious," she began. And she said it as if were the most normal thing in the world to say. "We've been around her all these weeks and we haven't gotten infected. So we know she's not contagious."

  I had no idea what she was talking about or who she was talking about. "What?" I asked. "I don't understand. Who's not contagious?"

  Then Becky began to cry. At first, just a few sporadic whimpers, but then it became a persistent, muffled cry. She continued to stare at her lap and wouldn't look up. And then it hit me. Sarah was talking about Becky. Becky was infected.

  Sarah shifted nervously. She was ill at ease and couldn't seem to get comfortable. Finally, she settled down and began to tell the story.

  "We came home from our vacation on a Thursday," she began, her voice shaky. "...two days after the fourth." She took a moment to collect herself and then went on. "We'd gone to Lake Tahoe. We were there for ten days. We hadn't watched any television when we were there or when we got back, so we had no idea what was going on. We didn't know about the virus.

  "When we got back, Becky went over to Suzy's house to play. Suzy Beckham. That's her best friend."

  The tone of Sarah's voice had a pleading quality to it. No doubt, she was hoping I would understand. She spoke hurriedly in a low whisper and couldn't seem to get the story out fast enough. I wasn't sure what to think or feel.

  "Suzy lived with her mother a block away from us. When Becky got there, the front door was open. She called Suzy's name, but she didn't answer. No one answered. Becky thought she heard a noise, so she went into the house. She was always welcome there, so she just walked in. The noise she'd heard came from the kitchen. Becky called Suzy's name again, but no one answered. She went into the kitchen and..." Sarah paused and looked down nervously as if she were searching for the words. "...and, and Suzy and her mother were on the floor feeding on the family dog. Becky didn't know what to do. She was terrified. She couldn't move, and she didn't understand what was happening."

  Sarah began to tear up again. She leaned toward me and lowered her voice even further as if she didn't want Becky to have to relive the moment. "Suzy got up and came over to where Becky was standing. She grabbed Becky's arm and bit her. Then Becky ran from the house and came back home."

  By the time she finished telling the story, Sarah looked spent, her face weary and flush. She was waiting for me to respond, but my head was filled with questions and I couldn't help but try and connect the dots. Did Becky's immunity explain the look of bewilderment on the Swimmer's face when he held her in front of him? Had he sensed some kind of connection between them? Is that why he didn't attack her? Then a different thought caught my attention—I could be infected. I had been around Becky for a day and a half and had been quite close to her, certainly close enough to get infected. But Raj had been around Becky for nearly a month and he was fine. And I'd never seen Becky with any symptoms. I knew I was being paranoid and I chided myself for overreacting.

  And then Sarah went on. "Do you see?" she asked me, seemingly flustered at my lack of a response. "It means Becky's immune. That's why we're going to 45th and Wasatch. Jorissen Pharmaceutical is there. It's a research facility. They've set up a lab to help develop a vaccine for the virus. They're looking for people who are immune. Maybe Becky can help."

  Sarah's tears had subsided but her face was still red and wet.

  "I see," I told her. "I understand." And I did understand why Sarah might want to keep Becky's infection a secret. I'm not sure how I would have reacted if I'd known Becky was infected. Still, it bothered me that they'd kept the knowledge of her infection from me. Then again, I'd kept my knowledge of the Swimmer from them. It seemed Sarah and I were both keen on secrets. The only thing I was certain of was that none of this was Becky's fault.

  And then I turned to Becky and lightly stroked her back just below the nape of her neck to console her. "It's all right, Becky" I told her.

  Becky turned to me, her face red and wet and smudged with tears. Her eyes had a dispirited look in them. "You're not mad at me?" she asked.

  "No, sweetie. It's not your fault," I told her.

  Then she reached over and hugged me. She accidentally knocked the steak off my thigh and looked up at me with a sheepish grin. I smiled and shrugged my shoulders, glad to be rid of it. She wrapped her arms around me and settled her head
on my chest. She continued to cry softly, and I put my arm gently around her shoulders.

  "Good. Now Jake knows," Raj said, and he nodded to himself, satisfied, as if everything had been set right by Sarah's admission. But while Raj may have seemed momentarily satisfied, his face, especially his eyes, couldn't hide the deep sadness he was feeling.

  Sarah got up from the couch and grabbed the bag of peas off the coffee table and went back to the arm chair and settled in. She pulled her legs up onto the seat cushion and lay curled up sideways in the chair with her head resting softly in the crook of her arm and on the arm of the chair, in much the same way Alex had lain that day. She fit the bag of peas against her upper cheek and eye and stared across the room with her good eye. Sarah's face was smooth and calm. I couldn't even remotely glean where she'd gone or what she was thinking. She was as distant and enigmatic as ever.

  And then I wondered if the moment we'd held hands had ever actually occurred. It didn't feel that way now, though I could still recall the silky touch of Sarah's hand. But the moment and the intimacy held within it had faded quickly from my mind like a morning dream. I couldn't grasp it or hold onto it no matter how much I may have wanted to. Memories were sometimes like that. They were never quite the same as the root experience. More often than not, they lacked the intimate feel of the experience itself. And I knew the moment I'd shared with Sarah would never come back to me again in the same way. I knew we'd held hands, knew there had been something unspoken between us, but the moment had passed by as quickly and as carefree as a summer breeze, and then it was gone. And a part of me couldn't help but think that that was for the best.

  Becky's soft sobs had turned into deep, sleepful breaths. Her arms had dropped down on either side of me, but her head was still planted sideways on my chest and she was in deep slumber.

  I noticed Sarah's good eye beginning to flutter dreamily. She would be asleep soon as well. The four of us were worn to a frazzle, physically and emotionally.