When Lisa was finally able to bury Jason in the backyard, he’d almost turned greenish gray. He looked waxy, unreal. The unpleasant smell had turned her green. In a numb shock, she buried him next to two generations of dogs and a handful of fish. She laid Bill's family to rest in their backyard, but not Bill. Bill disappeared.
Lisa looked down at the bubbles forming between the friction of soap and water. A combination of color swirled around the air pockets, and for a second she forgot what she'd been thinking of. A bird landed outside the window looked at her and chirped. It ruffled its feathers, squawked and then took flight.
Shortly after the first upsurge of the Shift, Jaden had looked at Lisa and said, “We have to find supplies mom. We have to get somewhere safe.”
Lisa had shaken her head, and the two of them gathered what was left of the water, food, and needs to live. Usually, the car was crammed with soccer equipment and giggling girls, but now Lisa and Jaden filled it with food, water, and necessities. They moved through the house like mice on a feeding frenzy gathering everything needed to survive. The rest of their belongings, they left behind.
“I know of a place,” Jaden said. “My friend Kit Stevenson. His parents were preppers. We could go there,” she’d said. With no water to take showers and electricity shut down, life, as they’d known it had become complicated. They’d both taken so much for granted.
Lisa never questioned Jaden about how she knew where Kit lived because it no longer mattered. It was midmorning when they left. Only a handful of cars moved through the streets, which looked like a war zone. Burning cars, smoke and debris littered the path. People lay dead or dying. Dogs ran in packs, mice multiplied and so did cats. The extent of man's dangerous behavior seemed surreal.
When Lisa and Jaden made it to Kit’s family’s home, no one was there. Jaden showed her mother the bunker, and they made it their home living there for months before they moved into the Stevenson's home. Hidden in the El Dorado Hills, it was unknown to them if the violence had ended. However, they’d both seen the horror, seen death and understood helplessness meant being dead. The Stevenson’s had an overabundance of firearms, and unknown to her mother, Jaden had learned a few skills while hanging with Kit. Together they started with what Jaden knew pistols. Then they moved on to the revolvers, automatic rifles, and shotguns, one of which was a sawed off shotgun. There were also two compound bows and a handful of various knives. Jaden liked the bow and shot for entertainment as well as for practice. The bow had been Kits and after adjusting it several times became fit Jaden perfect. Overtime, she’d taught herself to shoot and shoot well. The Stevenson’s bunker was stocked with enough food and ammo for a solid year. With only two of them, the supplies lasted longer. Between the garden and Jaden’s hunting, they’d survived without luxuries like processed and frozen prepackaged foods. There were staples they couldn’t raise or grow such as flour, rice, and sugar. Therefore, they’d started going into the city for supplies.
Maybe they should have stayed another year in the bunker because now Lisa had spent the last two nights alone for the first time in years. Supplies had been running thin for the past week, and Jaden had been eager to find more. For the first time since the Shift, Jaden had gone off by herself.
The nearest neighbor was several miles from where they squatted and a mile in from the Stevenson’s bunker. Lisa looked out of the window, of what was now their home, listening for the hum of the Denali. There was nothing but the hushed quiet of the morning making her more anxious. She wrapped the towel around her fingers wringing the moisture from it. She'd be parting the safety of the home to find her daughter. The thought of leaving the property alone scared her, but so did the idea of losing Jaden.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
When Dragon woke, the comfort level far exceeded his wildest dreams. Dragon hadn’t felt soft sheets in months maybe even years. The smell of fabric softener reminded him of his adoptive mother. He closed his eyes in the darkness of the room. Nearby, he heard voices that somehow pinched twinges of memory from his fragmented mind. The ticktock of a clock lived for lost time. He needed to be nowhere. It'd be easy just to fall back asleep, bury himself even deeper into the soft blankets, but then his stomach growled. He forced his eyes open, smacked his dry lips together and swallowed after having thought of water. He reached and hoped for a water bottle and sure enough, she'd placed one there for him. He chugged it empty in two gulps.
He fell back onto the soft pillows wanting nothing more than to sleep off whatever drugs the doctor had given him. The after effects of both the surgery and the pain pills had left him foggy. Then there were the memories of sliding into a car smelling of new leather. His body reminded him that he'd taken on a bullet. His stomach growled again. He sat up testing the weight on his good leg then checked the stitched leg. He felt for a light switch, found one and flipped it on. There was electricity here. The dim light caught the edge of the crutches leaning against the wall near the bed. He leaned over and grabbed them.
Like a wounded animal, unable to silence his steps, Summer should have heard him coming. She was sitting on the oversized couch, which made her appear small in contrast to the cushions. Much like a teenager would, she sat with her feet tucked under her and a bowl of popcorn in her hand. On the television, a much younger Summer skipped on the beach. Summer turned towards him, and when she did, she spilled some of her popcorn.
“You’re up.” She climbed to her feet. “Stay there.”
He shook his head and lifted his hand, “I’m not going to hurt you.” He said.
“I’m supposed to believe you why?” She asked.
“Good question?”
“You have explaining to do.” She said sounding much older than her teenage years. “What was happening on that ship?”
“Nothing good, that’s for sure.” He leaned on the crutches and rubbed his head.
Like a startled doe, she watched him. “How long ago was that?” He asked pointing at the television.
“Eternity.” She said.
“Where are we?” Dragon asked her.
“A friend’s house.”
“Is your friend here?” Dragon asked looking around.
“They’ll be back soon.” Summer said.
“What City?” He asked again knowing she’d just lied to him.
“El Dorado.”
“Sacramento.” He said.
“Yes. Out of Sacramento” She said. “Can I ask the questions now?”
Dragon looked past Summer to the television again. Suntanned cheeks and cotton white hair flashed in front of the camera. The child was laughing with her mother who hadn’t changed an ounce since he’d seen her last.
“You hungry?” She asked.
“Fucking starving.” Dragon answered staring at the screen. He shifted his gaze feeling a knot form in his gut.
“That’s a good sign.” She said. “Your pistols on the counter unloaded.”
“You don’t trust me?” He asked. She got to her feet. She moved forward and then paused in front of him.
“No, would you?”
“Probably not.”
“I’ll fix you something to eat.” She replied.
He followed her into the kitchen. Rich, ridiculous money had at one time bought this home. Cabinets, granite and stainless steel appliances labeled once the best money could buy. Automatic and recessed LED lighting came on as soon as they stepped into the kitchen. Everything was in its place. He felt a sense of peace and comfort in the cleanness.
“How long have you been waiting?”
Summer went to the refrigerator taking out eggs, spinach, and cheese. “For who?”
“For the people who own this house?”
“You like omelets?”
“Yes. You’re changing the subject.”
She started taking down her picks of bowls, a pan and utensils moving around the kitchen as a seasoned woman would.
“Doesn’t your aunt and uncle worry about you? It’s like what
a six-hour trip here. Jesus, who drove us here anyway?” He asked. She stopped, letting the carton of eggs drop a little too hard on the counter.
“Shit! I drove us, relax.” She said.
“Was I out the entire time?”
“Yes.” She said leaning on the counter and lifting both shoulders in a show of irritation.
“Sixteen?” he asked.
“Almost seventeen.”
Summer laid his gun in front of him. He looked down at it but made no move to recover it. “Nice gun.” She said. “Les Baer 1911. You steal it?”
“Yes. You have electric in here?” He asked disguising a slight grin.
"Solar panels and generators." She said. "Nash's mom was the doomsday prepper. Everyone thought she was freak, but I liked her. They even had group meetings. They believed something would happen. They had different theories, but I never heard of anything like the Shift. She wanted a house off the grid. She claimed it was a life support system that would someday save them."
"Not just a wealthy lady, but a smart one." He said.
“Funny thing. My friend Jaden, who was dating Nash at the time the Shift happened, was embarrassed by his mother’s obsession. In the end, she was the smart one.” Dragon watched Summer crack an egg one-handed. The slimy white substance rushing from the shell slid to the bottom of the bowl.
“She didn’t make it?” Dragon asked.
“Jaden begged her mom to let her go to a concert down by Long Beach Harbor that night. Nash’s parent’s divorced in our junior year, and his dad moved here, to Sacramento. I covered for her so they could see one another. We both lied. Snuck out. Told our parent's we were staying with the other. Somewhere in all the violence, I lost Jaden and Nash. I looked for a short time, but things were getting brutal." Summer frowned. "It was horrible." She whispered pouring the eggs into a pan.
“What about your mom?” Dragon lowered his voice.
“I ran home just in time to see my mom die. Dad never came back.”
Not True. Dragon thought. “Things can be better.”
“If the Shift never happens again.”
They ate in silence as Dragon glanced out the window at the grayish coming of storms. From where he sat, he had a clear view of the mountains. The sky to the west had turned an opaque dark blue, a forewarning that a storm was brewing. As the wind began to stir, it moved the treetops and shook leafless limbs in a vibration of tones.
“It’s less crazy here.” She said.
“Less crazy?” He asked.
"Living like this, here, makes more sense. Like it used to be."
He chuckled, “What’s your idea of normal?”
However, he knew what she was referring to. He'd gotten past the Shift and the new era of times. Summer lost her childhood, memories and her future. Dances and football games, graduation and proms were nothing more than an afterthought. Instead, she’d learned how to shoot a pistol, drive fast cars, and make decisions based on each situation that threatened her survival. They didn't teach that in high school.
“What now then?” He asked her.
“I feel better when I’m helping. My aunt and uncle don’t understand that.” She said. “Something is pulling me forward. I foresaw this.” Summer paused. “What about you?”
Dragon didn’t say anything. He feared he’d scare her away. Most of all he didn’t want to cause her trouble and trouble was coming his way.
“You’re not causing me trouble.” She murmured.
“I…..huh.” Dragon raised his fork and pointed it in her direction. “How did you know what I was thinking?”
“When I want to hear things, I can.”
"You hear stuff?" He repeated looking at her with the intensity of an absent father trying to read his newfound daughter. She had her mother's eyes and when Summer raised her eyebrow Dragon saw the only woman he'd ever loved looking at him.
He quickly turned away from her and limped over to the window, pressing into the glass forcing himself to think of something not related. The view, he thought, was incredible. Summer's friends had had nothing to worry about, but in the end, he was the one standing in their home. Another toxic residue the shift left behind. Where was the irony in that?
Dragon kept his gaze fixed on the landscape. “Those security cameras work?” He felt her eyes burning a hole into his head reaching for his brain. It was there she’d find all of his secrets.
“When I want them to.” She said. “What were they doing with all those kids?
“Recruiting.” He stopped.
“And?”
“Listen, you may not believe me, but I was the one sneaking food and blankets down to those kids. I'd already gotten a few off the ship."
“Why even allow it?” She asked. “The woman is she on SX16.” Summer said.
“It’s a long story. One best saved for a later time.” He said, "And yes to the second question. What else turns beautiful women into monsters?"
CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT
It was around ten in the morning when they got the call to meet with Axel and Riley couldn’t help but hope Summer had caved and called her Uncle. She gathered with the team in a large warehouse housing armored cars, military humpies and several oversized box vans containing God know’s what. Axel, with a few other suits, reflected a new era of FBI. On this day, they could call themselves whatever the hell they wanted, and no one would argue. Riley felt a briefing coming on for yet another mission. Though filled with the tools to destroy, the neat and official room came to a hush and collectively, the team took a seat.
“Brad found an address in one of Summer’s notebooks,” Axel said. “I think she’s in Sacramento.”
Sitting and waiting wasn’t good for any of the team. Restless and wanting to get back home to their own, the team looked for anything to keep them occupied.
“Sir. We are wasting time here.” Mustang said breaking the silence for the team.
“You have that map there colored with red and yellow pins.” Conman stood, “May I?”
Axel nodded.
Conman walked to the map, leaned down and pointed. “We should be on a plane, bus, train, whatever, to Sacramento. If I know anything, I know misfortune follows trouble, and it looks like there are evils there."
“You got people there now?” Jack asked.
Axel looked over at the map. “We’ve already set up a base camp just outside the city. Everything north of there has already trickled down or moved north to smaller towns where the cleanup isn’t nearly as difficult.”
Just hearing the word Sacramento made Riley’s heart sink.
“There’s a lot of red on this map.” Conman said.
“What’s yellow?” Riley asked.
“Cities rebuilding.” He stopped for a moment and looked out at them. “People are moving to places where they can gain their needs.”
“Water, Electricity and Gas,” Riley said.
Riley’s thoughts shifted to Ellie and her boys and then to the night in the parking lot when she was shot. The idea of going back to Sacramento was one she disliked. If Mark were alive, she’d be at greater risk. If she didn’t go with the team, she’d regret it. A sudden unrest sparked within her.
“We’re here, and it's what we do now,” Jack said.
“Hell yeah,” Mustang answered. “One block at a time.”
“Do you know how many blocks are in that city?” Riley asked.
Jack looked at his team who accepted their calling by saying nothing. Riley saw his gaze pause, a second longer, on her. She nodded just enough for him to see.
Axel said. “No one is obligated.”
Riley felt Eric glance over at her. They held their gaze for a moment until Riley looked away.
“Kill two birds with one stone,” Eric said.
A sea of pictures of appeared on the makeshift wall for a screen. “While you’re out there, keep your eyes open for these people. They’re missing as well.”
“You have any intel on Stockton?” 38 asked.
“Gone save a few charred buildings and mountains of debris. Markers have taken it over.” Axel replied. “Any survivors have either filtered this way or that way.”
“What are we waiting for?” Cobra asked.
In the Shadow of the Tiger (The Fighter Series Book 2) Page 15
