Apocalypse Atlanta (Book 2): Apocalypse Aftermath (Book 2)

by David Rogers

  “Game systems?” Jessica asked curiously. She had nothing against games herself, but somehow she couldn’t see someone wealthy enough to afford Eagle protection being interested in kicking back with a video game controller in hand. A drink and a movie, sure. A game though?

  He shrugged. “A lot of rich clients have families; it’s usually why they’re looking for top grade security personnel. It’s pretty common for their whole family to come down here and make a weekend of it while the parents are wined and dined.”

  “Game systems?” Candice almost demanded, looking at the large flat panel television hanging on the wall facing the largest couch.

  “While it works, you got it girlie-girl.” Austin confirmed.

  “Candice, don’t get too excited.” Jessica admonished gently. “Austin’s right about the power; it’s going to go out at some point. When it does, the games and TV won’t work.

  “I know.” the girl said, but she still eyed the glass front cases beneath the television that showed three game consoles and neatly racked discs next to each. “I’m too tired right now anyway.”

  “You want this in the bedroom?” Austin asked, hefting the suitcase questioningly as he crossed over to the other door; excepting the glass fronted doors that opened out onto a balcony, and what she guessed was the closet he’d mentioned. Jessica had already noted the glass, but they were on the third floor, and the balcony was railed. She wasn’t going to fuss over that until someone showed her zombies could fly.

  “Uh, please.” she said as Austin opened the door. She limped after him almost automatically, curious to see how the bedroom matched up to the main room. He disappeared through the door and she had another ‘wow’ moment when she made it in after him.

  The bed was enormous, and immaculately made with an expensive looking comforter. Some printed promotional material bearing the Eagle name and logo was laid across it to catch the eye. Dressers and chests were positioned to be handy in several places, along with two desks for the busy guest who might stay here. Just as with everything else in the building, everything screamed ‘money’.

  “I don’t know what to say.” she said after several moments of examination.

  “Take a look at the bathroom.” Austin grinned as he laid her suitcase of donated hand-me-downs on the chest at the foot of the bed. “Us mere employees down on the second floor are sharing two group ones, but up on the third floor it’s luxurious privacy all the way.”

  Candice wove around both adults and pushed open the half open bathroom door. She turned the light on, stood looking for a second, then turned back. “Mom, there’s two toilets in here!”

  Jessica chuckled to still the spike of anxiety that had appeared when Candice went for the door first. “Uh, that’s a bidet.” she said on a guess, trying to think about how to explain that one.

  “A . . . ba-day?” Candice repeated, stumbling over the unfamiliar word.

  “It’s not a toilet.” Jessica said as she limped across the carpet to take a look. “It’s . . . you use it after you’re done on the toilet.” she said finally.

  “I don’t understand.”

  “You don’t have to use it sweetie.” Jessica told her. The bathroom was almost as big as an office style restroom, except those didn’t have glass enclosed shower stalls big enough to turn around in with your arms outstretched. Or marble topped counters. Or furniture, she added mentally as she spotted the low leather covered bench that looked ideal for laying out clothes on, and the stool style chair so you could sit at the counter in front of the mirror while you primped and prepped.

  “There’s no bathtub.” Candice said.

  “You can make do with a shower.” Jessica said. “Why don’t you get ready for bed?”

  “Okay.” Candice said agreeably. She’d been drowsy to start with while Jessica had helped slice vegetables for salads in the dining room – the only thing she could efficiently do to help with the cooking that didn’t require her to stand – and by the time the meal was over the girl’s head had been starting to nod. Even with the salad, the meal had been heavy on protein and carbohydrates. Candice was fading fast.

  “Okay, I’ll be back after I talk to Austin.”

  Austin took the hint and headed back into the main room, Jessica limping after him. She closed the bedroom door and moved away from it, closer to the hallway door of the expansive suite. Turning carefully so she didn’t overbalance by catching the cane’s rubber tip against the carpet, she smiled. “Thank you.”

  “It’s fine—” he began, but she shook her head.

  “No. I mean, yes. Oh . . . damn.” Jessica drew a breath and smiled weakly. “I feel like – I know, actually – I’m being a burden.”

  “You’re—”

  “I am. I know I am.”

  “You’re not.” Austin said firmly.

  “Everyone else managed to get to Dennis’ last night without help.”

  Austin stepped forward and shook his head. She had to tip her head back to see his face as he closed on her, but he managed to stand over her without looming menacingly. “So did you.”

  “I made it to the backyard and collapsed.”

  “You made it.”

  Jessica shuddered. “I’ve been a burden this entire time, and you and Tyler and Dennis and everyone have been so incredibly patient.”

  “You need to stop saying that.”

  “It’s true.”

  “Jessica.” he said, then dropped to one knee in front of her. He was so tall that even kneeling his head came almost to her neck. “You can’t think like this.” She opened her mouth, but he shook his head sharply. “No. Listen, I’m serious. Everyone here has fought to make it this far, and that includes you and Candice. In fact, I’m positive you two have fought harder than the rest of us.”

  “Not even close.”

  He grinned suddenly. “You know anyone else around here who limped three miles through the north Atlanta zombie infestation on a knee swollen to twice its normal size? With a child. And got through it in one piece?”

  “When you say it like that it sounds like I’m Superwoman or something. We were lucky.” she said, though a ghost of a smile flickered briefly across her lips. “Anyway, that’s all I’ve done, and then I’ve just sat around in the car or on a chair in the dining room, and now up here in a suite that looks like it cost more to furnish than I paid for my whole house. You’re the one everyone’s looking to, you and Tyler. You two are the ones who’re getting us through this.”

  “You’re selling yourself short. I’m trained for this kind of thing, so it’s nothing special when I start up.”

  She shuddered. “What you did for Darla and Beth alone outstrips anything else.”

  Austin adjusted his MP5 on its sling and gave her a steady look. “You remember I told you this morning I was a Ranger, right?” She nodded. “Did you know two-thirds of Ranger candidates wash out and go back to being regular soldiers?”

  “See, that’s what I’m talking about. You’re ready for all this.” Jessica said. “I’m just a widowed mom hanging on to her only remaining kid. I mean, look at you. You’re big enough to scare a pro lineman, even without a gun.”

  “No, see, that’s what I’m talking about.” he said with surprising gentleness; compassionately but with a core of steely urgency. “Just about everyone who washes out of Ranger school doesn’t trip over the physical stuff. It’s a willpower thing, a question of their toughness. Their mental toughness.” he added when she started shaking her head again.

  “No way.”

  “Absolutely. You’ve got to listen, because this thinking you’re talking about right now is the only weak thing I’ve seen about you, and I know it’s just bullshit. You can’t let bullshit distract you.”

  Jessica blinked at him, but he pressed on. “What Ranger School is testing for, what any of the special military schools are testing for, isn’t physical chops or soldier skills. They’re looking at what’s inside a person, what drives them. Anyone who m
akes it to that kind of training can run and jump and shoot. They’ve already proven that. What the RIs are looking for when they run us into the ground is whether or not we’ve got the drive to keep going no matter how tough things are.

  “You’re one of those people.” he finished.

  “Now that’s bullshit.” Jessica protested, shuddering visibly at the thought of something like Ranger training. She didn’t have a very clear idea of what it entailed, but she’d seen movies and could guess at the kind of hell Rangers went through, or even just regular soldiers in ‘normal’ boot camp. There was no way she could survive even a day of something like that.

  “Honest.” Austin said, putting a hand up like he was in court. “If we started a training course here tomorrow, you’re the only person inside the fence I’m positive would make it all the way through.” He grinned suddenly. “I might have to cheat a little and hold Candice hostage at the end of each obstacle, but you’d clear every one because that’s who you are.”

  “You’re being silly.”

  “I’m not. I mean every word. You’re feeling guilty about your leg, and you’re scared because we’re in the middle of some scary shit, but despite all of it you’re tough and you’re going to hang on.”

  “I am scared.” she said quietly. “That’s what scares me.”

  “I’m scared.” he assured her. “None of this is normal, and none of us have any idea what’s going to happen next. But your head is clear despite your fear, and you’re asking all the right questions. You know how many of the guys I’ve got on the roof or down on the second floor who are tracking as clearly as you are? None of them. They’re going through the motions, and I think most of them are probably okay to stand guard three stories up where they know nothing with teeth can get at them, but so far none of them have shown me a tenth of what you have.”

  “Stop trying to butter me up.” Jessica half whispered, though she couldn’t help the smile breaking through her tension. It was a weak one, uncertain and cautious, but a smile nevertheless.

  Austin reached for her right hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “Look. I know this sounds like I’m just trying to give you a pep talk, to get you to buck up so I can mark you off a list of problems, but you’ve got to believe me when I say I’m not kidding. You’re doing fine, you’re strong, and you’re not a burden. You just need a little time to heal up, and then you’ll be kicking as much ass as I am.”

  Now a laugh escaped. “Impossible.”

  “Okay. Maybe not quite that much. Not until I give you a few lessons in shooting. But you’re doing fine. Stop beating yourself up over everything that’s happened. None of this is anyone’s fault. I don’t think we’ve got anyone here who isn’t dealing with some loss, and I know for a solid fact there are people here who’ve lost less and are shouldering it worse than you.” He released her hand and stood up. “Tell me I’m lying.”

  “Okay, okay. Put me back in coach.” Jessica said, reaching instinctively for something she’d heard Brett and Joey say more than a few times.

  “That’s what I’m talking about. Better.” Austin gestured toward the bedroom. “So, your mission for tonight is to rest up. You’ll feel better after a good night’s sleep. Dennis is going to be in full doctor mode tomorrow, and I already know he’s got you first on his list, even before he checks on any of the townies. He’ll do the doctor thing on your knee, then we’ll park you at a desk and you can help organize inventories, coordinate our radio traffic, and probably a dozen other shit jobs that don’t involve walking around.”

  “Glamorous.” Jessica said, forcing a wry, cheerful tone.

  “Yup. Just the kind of thing Rangers get stuck with when they get banged up. I’ve done it, now it’s your turn. Trust me, you’re going to hate it. As soon as Dennis says you can ditch that cane, I’ll find something easy for you to do. In the meantime, get used to typing and writer’s cramp.”

  “I type over a hundred words a minute.” she laughed, almost giggled.

  “It takes me a minute to enter my name with two fingers. And you don’t even want to see how bad my handwriting is.”

  “Now you’re making fun of me.”

  “Would I do that?”

  “In a heartbeat.”

  “Only because I like seeing you smile. Rest up. Chin up.” he said, moving to the door. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  “Threats now is it?”

  “Promises are way worse than threats. I rarely bother with threats.” Austin said as he opened the door. He gave her a wink, then left. Jessica watched the door swing closed. Even through the suite’s soundproofing she could hear his heavy footfalls receding as he went down the stairs briskly.

  “Promises.” she shook her head, then limped over to the door. Just like in a hotel, there was a lock, a deadbolt, and a sliding security bar that would keep the door from opening wider than two inches even if the locks were off. She used all three, tugged on the handle to be sure the door was locked, then hobbled back into the bedroom.

  Candice was laying a little to the far side of the center of the bed, with the bedspread peeled back at an angle to leave only the blanket and sheet atop her. She was on her side, snuggled up against one of the pillows with her head on another, out cold. Her hair was curled around her face in a mass that promised a lot of brushing would be needed in the morning, and she still wore the hand-me-down clothes she’d put on back in Johns Creek.

  Jessica stood gazing at her daughter for nearly half a minute. She couldn’t even be annoyed in typical Mom fashion that Candice hadn’t cleaned up before falling into the bed. The girl had been through so much since all this started, and had gotten through it with flying colors. She couldn’t imagine any other child bearing the loss of four close family members in less than forty-eight hours – including her brother and sister – without descending into the sort of gibbering catatonia like Trudy Morris was in.

  The lid of the box Jessica had shut all her pain up in rattled a little in the back of her mind, and she shook herself quickly. Turning to the suitcase, she managed to balance on her good leg without her cane while she got it opened. Well around the bend of hysteria and sorrow Trudy might be, she’d still managed to put together a generous amount of clothing to give Jessica and Candice something to say was theirs other than the clothes on their backs. Jessica rooted around in the ones for her until she found some that looked reasonable, then carried them into the bathroom.

  With the door closed and locked, she took advantage of the low bench to get off her feet. She laid the cane aside, then pulled her purse off herself and dumped its contents out so she could take inventory. The handful of toiletries she’d carried down from Dennis’ house were completely unnecessary against the formidable array of options she saw on the shelves and lined up on the counter for Eagle’s wealthy clients to pick from, but the bit of makeup she kept for mid-day touchups was all she had to help combat her worry lines and signs of stress.

  It didn’t matter very much anyway. She had score of things on her list before she got far enough down to be even within shouting distance of how she looked. Jessica sorted the bare essentials of her meager travelling makeup arsenal to one side, then sifted through the rest of the pile. As usual on the occasions when she delved into the depths of what lived – or ended up – in her purse, she was simultaneously unsurprised and bewildered by what emerged from the clutter.

  A lot of it had suffered from her swim in the Chattahoochee last night. Her little travel pack of tissues was ruined, and she had to peel store receipts and some forgotten school papers for the kids away from things that had better survived the dunking. The collection of take-out menus she’d kept for emergency dinner orders on bad days had actually survived pretty well, but they were useless now.

  Somehow she didn’t think pizza places and Chinese takeout were delivering anymore. Especially not all the way to Knoxville.

  Her backup scrunchies she laid out to finish drying, along with the nail clippers and bottles of lotion
and hand sanitizer; but the breath mints went into the trash pile along with the scattered peppermints and butterscotch candies that had been floating around in the detritus at the bottom. They weren’t waterproof and there was no way she was letting Candice eat anything that had gone through the river. She hesitated over the little ring of store loyalty cards – she didn’t figure on having an opportunity to shop anytime soon – but decided to keep it just because there was no real pressing need to dump them.

  As she worked, her gaze kept going to the wallet. The box lid in her head kept rattling when she saw the wallet, but she tried to focus on her task of discarding what was ruined or no longer needed. Just putting off the inevitable a little while longer. Eventually though, she picked the wallet up and held it in her hand for a while. Her phone was gone, destroyed in the wreck last night, so what lay inside the clasp was all the more important. But right now it was also painful. She knew from what she’d gone through with Brett that it was going to hurt.

  Finally she drew a deep breath and unsnapped the catch. Better to just get it over with. Opening the folded leather, she flipped past her driver’s license and credit cards to the clear plastic fanfolds toward the back. The pictures had suffered during the swim, but were still intact despite the softening and water damage. The top picture was the last family portrait taken before Brett’s death. His face held for her only the sense of faded regretful loss, burnished to a melancholy warm glow by the intervening time, but the smiles of Joey and Sandra staring up at her brought newer feelings of loss that were still sharp and fresh.

  Her eyes started to moisten as she fixed on her two dead children. No, worse. Not dead; undead. Whatever was causing this waking nightmare had taken them in the first wave, before anyone had figured out just how bad things were going to be. She still remembered Friday morning. Everything had seemed so normal, with bickering and typical hormone driven teenaged drama on a school day, and by noon the darkness was falling despite the sun.