“How'd you make it this far?” he asked Tom.
“I don't even know why we survived when so many others didn't. It's not like we were better prepared than anyone else. Hell, how can anyone prepare for something like this? We ended up in a refugee camp when it all started. National Guard unit had us set up in tents surrounded by barbed wire and everything was going along fine for a while.”
“Camp Bravo?” Jake interrupted.
“Yeah! How did you know?”
“I was there. I saw what happened.”
“Well, anyway, we got out of there, but a lot of others didn’t. We came across the car the next day, been siphoning gas from other cars when we could, and we've just kept moving. For a time, we hooked up with a couple of soldiers that escaped the camp and traveled with them, but they started getting too interested in Eve so we parted ways with them. Actually, I’m surprised they didn’t make more of an issue of it. We tried going south for a while, but those things were really crowding in that way so we turned east and there were even more of them that way. Basically, I guess we've just been running around in circles trying to find someplace safe.”
“Well, you'll be safe enough here with us,” Ellen assured him, setting bowls and spoons in front of Tom and his wife and daughter. “And I don't want to hear any arguments,” she directed at Jake and at Art, who'd just come back inside.
“Looks like we don't have much say in the matter,” Jake said to Art.
“Welcome aboard,” Art offered his hand to Tom who smiled broadly and shook it.
Chapter 21: Madness
Tom and Liz took the fourth bedroom and Eve slept in a sleeping bag atop some blankets in the sewing room. Jake decided to lay out a bed for himself in the barn loft as a precaution against any intruders making their way into the yard as much of the area between the house and barn and, of course behind the barn was in a blind spot from the house. The Carroll family blended in smoothly with most of the rest of the group. Over the course of the next week, Liz became very close to Ellen and, to only a slightly lesser extent, Carolyn. Vickie and Eve hit it off from the first moment and Eve treated her like a big sister. Tom got along well enough with Jake and Mark, but was not very comfortable around Art, who seemed to want to say longer and longer prayers before each meal and began a routine of bible readings to the group every night. For the most part, they went along, initially seeing no harm, but the readings soon turned to sermons and condemnations of what he considered sinful behavior, pointedly looking in turn at Mark, Vickie and Carolyn during his remarks.
“Not that I have anything against religious people in principal,” Tom told Jake one afternoon while they were alone stringing wire and Art was standing watch, “but he seems to be kind of pushing it on us. I made the mistake of telling him that Liz and I weren't married in church, but had a civil wedding and he flat out told me that we were living in sin and were, and I quote, 'an abomination in the eyes of the Lord'. I let it go, not wanting to fan the flames, but it's really starting to bother me. I'm glad I didn't tell him we had to get married because Liz was already carrying Eve. Speaking of Eve, I haven't seen her for a while.”
“She's out in the apple orchard with Mark, seeing how the trees are coming along.”
“She's alone with him? He's twice her age!”
“Relax. Mark would be more likely to make a pass at you or me than Eve, if you get my drift.”
“Huh! Well, that explains why he doesn't get along with Art. I didn't pick up on that.”
“Yeah, well, he's been keeping a low profile, trying not to set Art off on one of his tirades.”
“Well, that’s probably the wise course. Still, I hate the idea of having to tiptoe around him, trying not to offend him.”
“I do too,” Jake agreed. “For right now, though, it’s probably for the best.”
Two days later, Jake announced that they simply didn’t have enough material to finish the fence and would have to make a supply run to pick up more lumber, nails and wire staples. Tom remembered a hardware outlet and a Tractor Supply store he’d passed maybe twenty or twenty five miles off to the northwest along with a Dollar General and a few other shops. The three of them, Jake, Art and Tom, planned to take the Hummer the next morning, hoping also to find a big pickup to add to their stock. Neither Jake nor Tom were happy at the prospect of spending so much time cooped up in an automobile with Art, but the prospect of leaving him behind without either of them to keep an eye on him struck them as worse.
. . .
Vickie lay on her back in bed, Carolyn at her side, facing her, caressing her smooth stomach with her hand. They were still in the warm afterglow and were both happy and content. They lay there for some time, enjoying just being together, thrusting away for the time all thoughts of the horrors of the island, the ugliness of the world outside and the evil of some of the people who now inhabited it.
“Carolyn?” Vickie asked in a small, hesitant voice. “I've been giving it a lot of thought...”
“I know. You're thinking about being with Jake, aren't you?”
“Is it that obvious?”
“Only every time we’re together,” she answered, rolling onto her back and looking up at the ceiling.
“I wouldn't do anything to hurt you! If you say 'no', then that's all there is to it!”
“I can't do that. I told you I was married before.” When Vickie nodded, she continued, “I had a relationship with another woman while married to Matthew. He found out about it and, far from being upset, he wanted me to go into detail about it. I guess that was one of the things that drove us apart; he was too fascinated about what I was doing with her and how he could get in on the act. You see, it would be hypocritical of me to try to lay down the law with you after what I did. You’d be with Jake now if it hadn’t been for me, if the two of us hadn’t gotten involved.”
“And I don't regret that even a little,” Vickie insisted, turning to lay her hand on Carolyn's shoulder. “You have to know how I feel about you, that I love you.”
“I do, and I love you, Vickie. In a normal world, maybe it would be different. Now, I just can't imagine losing you over this. Jake has been pretty terrific, to both of us. He's the reason we're both alive and he's, more than anything else, what’s holding this group together. I know you aren't ever going to be really happy without having him in your life. Everything else in the world is fucked up beyond any sense, why should relationships be any different?”
“Are you sure? Honestly, I would never want to do anything to hurt the relationship we have together. I need you.”
Carolyn turned away and reached for the nightstand drawer. When she turned back, she handed a small package to Vickie.
“What is this?”
“While we were at the Drug Mart in Harriot, I picked up a supply of condoms. Just make sure you make him use them. If you end up pregnant, I'll be very upset with both of you!”
“I see you've been giving this some thought.”
“Things will never be the same again,” she shrugged. “We have to get used to the way they are now, not the way we wish they were. Just wash your... hands before you come back to me. And, you know, that, too.”
. . .
Jake was sound asleep that night when he felt a hand touch his arm. He started awake immediately and saw Vickie's face in the glow of the bright moonlight, looking down at him.
“Is everything okay?” he asked.
“No,” she answered. “Things aren't okay between us.”
“What?” he asked, still groggy.
“Us. You and me. I need you. We need each other. We need to be together.”
“You just won't give up on that, will you?”
“Jake, you know I'm right! You want me, I know you do! And I want you! I want to feel you inside me. I want you to hold me and kiss me and have passionate sex with me!”
Jake sat at the edge of his makeshift bed and put his feet on the floor.
“And what about Carolyn?”
<
br /> “Well, no promises, but I might be able to talk her into a three way,” Vickie teased.
“Be serious, will you? How is this going to affect your relationship with her? How will this change her attitude toward me?”
“Carolyn is okay with it,” she told him, sitting right up against him on the bed. “She even got me a box of condoms from the drug store. She's okay with it, really! We've talked about it, and she agrees that we should get together. She said the old ways are gone forever and we have to rewrite the rules as we go.”
“This is crazy! There's no chance this will turn out well.”
“It's not crazy. It's right. It's what we both want, what we both need. You've been everything to me ever since the day you saved my life on the road. You've been good to me, regardless of how much trouble I've caused you, how much pain and misery I've inflicted on you.”
“That's the whole problem right there, Vickie,” Jake told her, standing up to face her. “You've been feeling obligated to me this whole time. Are you sure this is what you truly want, or is this something you think you owe me?”
Vickie put her arms around his neck and stood up on her toes to kiss him. She clung to him, pressing her mouth tightly to his, parting her lips for him. Jake held her, pulling her to him, hands exploring her body through the thin nightshirt, which was the only item of clothing she wore, feeling her softness, her warm, yielding flesh. She took a step back and pulled the shirt over her head and let it drop to the floor, then began to tug at the front of his shorts.
A scream from the house stopped both of them dead for an instant, then Jake had the shotgun slung over his shoulder and a Glock tucked in his waistband and slid down the ladder, racing for the back door while Vickie fumbled to find her nightshirt.
Jake burst through the door just as Liz and Eve reached the foot of the stairs.
“Art's gone mad!” Liz shouted. “Tom sent us down to find you!”
Jake took the stairs two at a time and saw Mark sitting on the floor, hands clutched to his blood-soaked belly. Tom was lying on the floor in the doorway to Carolyn's room, barely conscious, holding his hands to a freely bleeding wound on his head. Ellen was sprawled on the floor, blood running from her nose and split lip and Art had Carolyn pinned to the bed, one hand clutching her throat and the other raised high wielding a butcher knife.
“Art! What the hell are you doing?” Jake shouted.
Art turned to face him and in that moment Jake could see the crazed look in his eyes, the blood lust and righteous anger and he swung the butt of the shotgun and caught him on the side of the head, knocking him cold to the floor.
Ellen went to his side immediately, cradling his head in her arms while Carolyn rose up on her elbows, coughing and gagging. Vickie came in a moment later and took in the scene and rushed to the bed to comfort Carolyn.
“What in the hell happened here?” Jake asked.
“Oh, my God! Mark!” Carolyn croaked, springing from the bed to where he sat on the floor. “Help me get him onto the bed!”
Jake and Vickie helped her get him into his bed while Eve lit a Coleman and Carolyn pried his hands away from a deep stab wound in his abdomen. While she tended to Mark, Jake and Liz helped Tom to his feet and he repeated his question.
“I heard Carolyn scream,” Tom said, sitting heavily into a chair. I ran out and saw Mark staggering out of her room, holding his stomach. When I got to the door, I found Ellen trying to drag Art away from Carolyn, but he punched her in the face! He punched his own wife in the face! He went for Carolyn again, spouting some nonsense about how she was doing Satan's bidding and needed to be punished. I ran up to him but he had that damned knife in his hand and hit me in the head with the butt of it before I even knew it was coming. I'm somewhat hazy after that, but he kept ranting about God's wrath or something and that he was going to rid the world of wickedness. That's when you came in.”
“He told me he had a dream, that he saw his father,” Ellen filled in in a disturbingly calm voice, stroking her unconscious husband's hair. “He said the Lord was angry that His children continued to disobey His laws. He would have killed her if you hadn't come along.”
“We need to tie him up,” Liz put in as she knelt by Tom's side.
“I'll do better than that,” Jake promised. “I picked up some handcuffs at the police station. I'll cuff him to the bed frame.”
With Ellen's help, they got Art onto the bed in his room and Jake cuffed one wrist, ran the chain through the metal head frame and cuffed the other. He looked at Ellen, her cheek already blackening and her lip badly swollen, but she gazed at her husband with tenderness and love in her eyes.
Satisfied that Art was safely subdued, he went into Mark's room to see how he was doing.
“It's bad,” Carolyn told him. “It's a deep wound and I don't know enough to treat something like that. I think he’s going to die.”
. . .
No one got much sleep that night. Jake and Vickie took turns watching the road while Carolyn tended Mark's wound with help from Liz. Tom stood guard at Art's door after Liz bandaged his head while Ellen sat at the bedside alternately crying and praying. Eve stayed close to Vickie, dozing for a few minutes at a time.
Morning finally came and Liz and Eve made coffee for everyone. Art woke up and jerked at the cuffs, loudly demanding to be released. After checking the cuffs, Art and Ellen were left alone while everyone else went downstairs.
“How's Mark now?” Jake asked Carolyn.
“Not good. I got the bleeding stopped, finally; at least the outward bleeding. He’s still bleeding internally. There’s nothing more I can do; he’s going to die.”
“Damn. That leaves us with the question of what to do about Art. We can't have him around anymore, that's obvious, but what do we do with him?”
“I'm for shooting him,” Carolyn said flatly. “Don't look at me like that! Mark is going to die because of him! He gave his life trying to protect me! Art would have killed me if Tom hadn't stepped in and if you hadn't come along when you did! He would have killed Vickie too if he had the chance! He's a danger to us all, with his holier-than-thou, judgmental attitude! Listen to him ranting up there! He doesn't think he did anything wrong! He'll do it again if he gets the chance!”
“I'm not prepared to kill him,” Jake looked her in the eye. “We could send him packing. Tell him to get out and stay away from us.”
“What about Ellen?” Liz piped in. “We'd be punishing her, too. She'll never leave him. You saw how she stayed by his side all night. She loves him, right or wrong. If we send them away, we'll be condemning both of them to die.”
“We can't keep him chained to the bed indefinitely,” Tom put in. “Maybe we could build a cage to keep him in. I don't know, I'm just thinking out loud.”
A shot rang out from upstairs. Jake was first on his feet, followed closely by Tom. He was halfway up the stairs when a second report sounded. Jake reached the door to Art and Ellen's room and stopped. Tom came up beside him and stopped too. Jake turned around, held his hands out, palms facing the rest of the group and blocked the hallway while Tom slowly pulled the door shut.
“We don't have to worry about what to do about them now,” was all Jake said.
“She must have taken my pistol while I dozed in the chair,” Tom said, still facing the closed door.
They buried Art and Ellen behind the house, near the flower garden Ellen had loved. Mark lasted another day, feverish and incoherent most of the time. They buried him on the other side of the garden.
Chapter 22: The Ambush
Jake didn't want to put off the supply run any longer and, as Tom was still somewhat unsteady on his feet from the blow to his head, Vickie volunteered to go along. Jake decided it would be better to take two vehicles so he drove the Hummer while Vickie drove the Honeywell van. After much pleading, Eve convinced a reluctant Liz to allow her to ride along with Vickie and the three headed for the outlet mall. Luckily, after the recent events, it was an uneventful
drive. Vickie used four arrows once they reached the mall and Jake's machete took down two more infected inside the TSC. There he loaded more tools, wire staples and a roll of heavy wire into the Hummer, along with sturdy shoes, gloves and more hardware.
He stood guard while Vickie and Eve picked out clothing there and at another store for Carolyn, Liz, Tom and themselves. At Vickie's suggestion, they tied mattresses from one of the outlets to the roofs of both vehicles to replace the blood-soaked ones at the house and they stocked up on sheets, blankets and towels. A new Rite Aid was being built at one end of the strip mall and Jake was able to start a Ford F-350 and load it with lumber from the construction site. Lastly, they hit the Dollar General, stocking up on canned and boxed food and bottled water, juice and sundries. Jake popped a couple ibuprofens and took a long swig from one of the water bottles, leaning back against the hood of the Hummer with his eyes shut.
“Your shoulder must be really bothering you,” Vickie observed.
“Yeah, it gets kind of tender from lifting and carrying, but I’ll be alright in a few minutes.”
“Okay, Mr. Macho,” she scoffed, “but when we get you home, you’re taking it easy for a couple more days before starting on the fence again.
“Well,” he answered, lighting up a cigarette, “we’ll see how it all works out.”
“Carolyn really wants you to quit smoking,” Eve piped in. “She’s really worried that you need to start taking better care of your health.”
“Yeah, it’s a filthy habit, as they say,” Jake laughed.
“Well then, why don’t you quit?”
“I’ve stared death in the face more than a few times,” he snorted. “This is one of my few vices; about the only one, actually.”
The Complete Lethal Infection Trilogy Page 15
