Last Survivors 04: Shade of the Moon

by Susan Beth Pfeffer

  “What the hell do you mean?” Alex asked.

  “I mean just what I said,” Jon replied.

  “Is she all right?” Miranda asked, so softly Jon almost didn’t understand her.

  “Yes,” Sarah said. “We haven’t seen her, but as far as we know she’s fine.”

  “They lied about her being deformed,” Jon said. “They lied about all of it.”

  Miranda began to cry. Alex clenched the steering wheel tightly.

  “Who?” he said. “Who did this? I’m going to kill them.”

  “Listen to me,” Sarah said, and they could all hear the claver in her voice. “You can kill whoever you want, but then you won’t get your baby back. It’s your choice. Do you want revenge or do you want your daughter?”

  Miranda was sobbing. Jon reached over and put his hand on her shoulder. “We’ll get her back,” he said.

  “Make the next right,” Sarah said. “Alex, we have a plan. It’s risky, but I think we can pull it off. If something goes wrong, remember that Charles and Amy Stockton have your baby. Go three more blocks and make a left. Charles and Amy Stockton.”

  “We’ll need to get out of Sexton as fast as possible,” Jon said. “No one will be looking for us at Matt’s, so you can leave us there and take Sarah on to Virginia.”

  “If we don’t come out with the baby, go,” Sarah said. “Hide out in White Birch until you can figure out another plan.”

  “I can’t let you do this,” Alex said. “It’s my baby.” He touched Miranda gently. “Our baby.”

  “We have a plan, Alex, and you’re not part of it,” Sarah said. “Except as the driver. Go one more block. Okay, see that white house on the corner? Park directly in front of it, but turn your lights off. Keep the motor running, though, and have the back doors open.”

  Miranda turned around and looked straight at Jon. “You can do this?” she asked. “You can bring my baby to me?”

  Or die trying, Jon thought. Instead he reached over and kissed his sister on her cheek. “Do you have everything?” he asked Sarah.

  “Take the sign,” she said. “And the tape. Let’s put the surgical masks on now. The gowns can wait until we’re out of the car.”

  “I’ll never be able to thank you,” Alex said.

  “You don’t have to,” Jon said. “We’re family. Come on, Sarah.”

  “Surgical masks, surgical caps, surgical gowns,” Sarah said as they got out of the car. “The only thing they’ll see are our eyes. Remember, Jon, let me do the talking. You go upstairs and get the baby and her things. Do you have the suitcase?”

  “Can’t you see it?” Jon asked.

  “I’m nervous, all right?” Sarah said. “Okay. Let’s do this. Put the sign on the door and start knocking.”

  They walked to the front of the house—a mansion, really. Lisa had told them they had six domestics but only the guard and the wet nurse should be there. The rest would be in White Birch until the morning.

  Jon attached the sign to the front door. “Ring the bell?” he asked.

  Sarah nodded. “Three times,” she said. “Then start knocking and shouting.”

  Jon pressed hard against the doorbell. He could hear it ringing in the house but no other sounds. He began to pound on the door. “Medical emergency!” he yelled. “Open the door!”

  The guard opened the door. He had his gun already pulled out and pointed it at Jon’s head. “Who the hell are you?” he growled. “And what the hell do you think you’re doing?”

  “We’re here to see Charles Stockton,” Sarah said.

  The guard stared at her and pulled the safety.

  “If you kill us, you’re signing your own death warrant,” Sarah said. “Now either get Charles Stockton here now or be prepared to die.”

  A man and a woman came to the top of the stairs. “What’s going on here?” the man asked.

  “Mr. Stockton?” Sarah asked.

  “You want me to kill them?” the guard asked.

  “Mr. Stockton, your baby is highly contagious,” Sarah said. “You have to listen to me. Your life, all your lives are in danger.”

  “My baby?” Mrs. Stockton said. “What about my baby?”

  “Mrs. Stockton, I’m very sorry,” Sarah said. “Shortly after the baby was born, its mother died. We performed an autopsy, and the blood workup came in tonight. The grub died of osteomyelitis. If she had it, the baby has it. It’s invariably fatal.”

  “Are you saying our baby is going to die?” Mrs. Stockton cried.

  “I’m saying you’re all going to die,” Sarah said. “Unless we get the baby out of here and you clean every single thing in this house. We’ll take the baby back to the hospital and isolate her until she dies. Tell your guard to put his gun down, and let this grub go upstairs. He’ll take the baby and all her things. It’s the only chance you have, Mr. Stockton.”

  “Let him go,” Mr. Stockton said to the guard.

  Jon began walking upstairs.

  “You’re taking my baby?” Mrs. Stockton said. “Charles, tell them they can’t.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Stockton,” Sarah said. “We have no choice. The incubation period is a week to ten days. If you keep the baby a moment longer, not only are you at risk, but everyone else you have contact with. The house is quarantined. You can let your domestics in to do the cleaning, but none of you can leave until someone from the hospital authorizes it.”

  “You can’t do this to us,” Mr. Stockton shouted. “My father’s on the town board.”

  “Do you want to die?” Sarah asked. “Do you want your wife to die? If you see your father before you’ve completely disinfected your home and yourselves, you risk killing everyone you see, including your father and the entire damn town board. The baby’s going to be dead by tomorrow night anyway. Is it worth the risk?”

  “We’ve had the baby for over a week now,” Mrs. Stockton said. Jon could see the tears flowing from her eyes. For the briefest moment he felt sorry for her. “Wouldn’t we have seen something?”

  “There’s a two-week period between infection and symptoms,” Sarah said. “Arthur, what are you waiting for?”

  “Sorry, ma’am,” Jon said. “Excuse me, please. Can you tell me where the nursery is?”

  Mrs. Stockton pointed to a door. “Charles, what are we going to do?”

  “Demand our money back for starters,” Mr. Stockton said. “Take the baby. Wake up the wet nurse and tell her to start cleaning the house. I knew this grubber baby was a bad idea. Maybe next time you’ll listen to me.”

  “It was the only way.” His wife sobbed. “I wanted a baby so much.”

  Jon told himself not to feel sorry for her. He walked into the nursery and saw a baby sleeping in her crib. The wet nurse was standing next to her.

  “Who are you?” she asked. “What are you doing here?”

  “Stay where you are,” Jon said. “The hospital sent me to take the baby.”

  “Is she sick?” the wet nurse asked.

  Jon nodded. He longed to look at Liana, to see what she looked like, but there wasn’t time. Instead he opened the chest of drawers and threw things into the suitcase. “Diapers,” he said.

  “In here,” the wet nurse answered, pulling them out and handing them to Jon.

  Jon pulled out a laundry bag from the suitcase. “Put the dirty diapers in here,” he said. “All of them.” He knew from traveling half the country with Gabe how important diapers could be.

  The wet nurse emptied a hamper into the laundry bag.

  Jon threw all the rest of the baby clothes into the suitcase then handed it to the wet nurse. “Take these downstairs,” he said. “I’ll take the baby. It’s dangerous for you to be holding her.”

  “I’ve been holding her for a week now,” the wet nurse said.

  “Well, you won’t be anymore,” Jon said. “Now move it!”

  Mr. and Mrs. Stockton stared at them as they walked down the stairs. Mrs. Stockton was crying uncontrollably, but her husband was
doing nothing to comfort her.

  “Give me the baby,” Sarah said. “You carry the bags.” She stared directly at the guard. “What are you waiting for?” she asked. “Open the door.”

  “Do it,” Mr. Stockton said. “Get that damn grub baby out of here.”

  The guard let them out. Sarah and Jon walked briskly to the car. Alex stood by the door, waiting for them.

  Sarah handed him the baby. “Give her to Miranda,” she whispered. “We have to get out of here fast.”

  Alex held his daughter for the briefest of moments before handing her to Miranda. He hopped into the car. “Let’s go,” he said, and began driving away.

  Sarah and Jon pulled off their surgical gear. “He’ll call his father first,” Sarah said. “But even if his father calls the hospital, they won’t know what to tell him. They’ll say to wait to talk to someone in charge in the morning. I think we have two or three hours.”

  “Left turn here?” Alex asked.

  “Yeah,” Sarah said. “Then another left and drive straight to the town gate. Do you have the travel pass?”

  “Right here,” Alex said.

  “Alex, she’s so beautiful,” Miranda said. “Look, she’s awake. Do you think she knows who we are?”

  “She knows,” Alex said. “She knows we love her and she’s safe.”

  PART THREE

  Monday, July 27

  “This should do,” Alex said a couple of hours later. He pulled the car over to the side of a country road.

  “Should we be stopping so soon?” Miranda asked. The baby was sleeping contentedly in her arms.

  “This’ll only take a minute,” Alex said. “See that brook? We’ll use the water to baptize the baby.”

  “They baptized her in the hospital,” Jon said.

  “That’s what they said,” Alex replied. “They also said the baby was deformed and dead. I’m not taking any chances. Come on everyone. Let’s do this.”

  “Gabe’s still sleeping,” Sarah said. “I’ll stay in the car with him.”

  “Gabe will be fine,” Miranda said. “Sarah, you have to join us. You’re Liana’s godmother.”

  “Oh no, I can’t be,” Sarah said. “I’m Jewish. I can’t be your baby’s godmother.”

  Miranda laughed. “I wouldn’t be holding my baby if it wasn’t for you,” she said. “You and Jon. You’re the godparents, like it or not. Right, Alex?”

  “Right,” Alex said. “Everybody out. Except Gabe.”

  They left the car and, holding on to each other’s hand, walked down the slope to the brook.

  “Are the godparents here?” Alex asked.

  Jon squeezed Sarah’s hand. “We are,” he said.

  “Alex, do you know what you’re doing?” Miranda asked.

  Alex grinned. “I’m winging it,” he said. “But I don’t think God will mind.” He bent over, wet his fingers with the water from the stream then made the sign of the cross on the baby’s forehead. “I baptize thee . . .”

  “Liana Hope,” Miranda said. “Liana Hope Morales.”

  “Oh, I like that,” Sarah said. “Oops. I’m sorry.”

  “I like it, too,” Alex said. “I baptize thee Liana Hope Morales in the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Spirit. Amen.”

  “Amen,” they all said.

  “Can I hold her?” Jon asked. “Just for a moment?”

  “Of course you can,” Miranda said. “You’re her uncle. Make sure to support her head. Yes, that’s right.”

  Jon stared at his niece. Dawn was breaking, and hazy sunlight made it possible for him to see what she looked like. Her hair was dark like Alex’s, but her eyes were Miranda’s. “Liana Hope,” he said. He held his pinkie out, and the baby grabbed it. “Look at that,” he said. “That’s amazing.”

  “I think all babies do that,” Sarah said. “But Liana Hope is the most beautiful one ever.”

  Jon kissed his niece on her forehead and then handed her back to Miranda. “The most beautiful one ever,” he said.

  “We’ve got to get going,” Alex said. “We can’t take any more chances.”

  Jon nodded. “You go on,” he said. “I’m going back to Sexton.”

  “Jon, what are you talking about?” Miranda asked.

  “I can’t let Lisa face this alone,” Jon said.” You keep going. I won’t say anything about where you are. You can trust me.”

  “It’s not a question of trust,” Alex said. “Jon, do you have any idea of what you’re risking?”

  “You might never see us again,” Miranda said.

  “I know,” he said. “But I can’t ask Lisa to take the blame for something I did.”

  “I did it, too,” Sarah said. “I’ll go back with you.”

  “Sarah, go to Virginia,” Jon said. “I want you to be safe, remember?”

  “Matt will know where we are,” Miranda said. “Take care of Lisa, Jon. And thank her for everything she did.”

  “You’ll have to walk back to the highway,” Alex said. “You should be able to hitch a ride with a trucker. Tell them you were going to visit family, but the car broke down, and your driver vanished, so you need a lift back. Give us until tomorrow. Lie low today. All right?”

  “All right,” Jon said.

  “Will you see my father?” Sarah asked.

  “I’d better not,” Jon said. “We don’t know how this is going to play out. Maybe no one will care, and Lisa and I will get away, no problem. But if there is trouble, I’ve got to do what I can to protect her.”

  Alex nodded. “Take care, Jon. Do what you can for Lisa.”

  “I love you,” Jon said, hoping that each of them, even the sleeping children, knew he meant it. “I’ll find my way back to you, somehow. I promise.”

  Sarah embraced him, but she broke away and walked with Alex and Miranda to the car. Jon stood by the stream and watched as they drove off. He thought he heard Sarah crying, but Alex pulled away so rapidly, he couldn’t be sure.

  It didn’t matter. They were all about to start new lives, better lives. Jon was starting his own new life. Just not a better one.

  Tuesday, July 28

  He’d gotten a lift with a trucker who was hauling a couple dozen grubs to work in the greenhouses. From the sounds in the back, the grubs weren’t too happy about it, but the trucker said he was earning a lot of overtime hauling grubs from all over to replace the ones who’d died during the riots.

  Jon thought about the truck Alex had wanted so badly, but he couldn’t imagine him hauling grubs. Carlos would have, though, and Alex would have taken his share of the money. He wouldn’t have told Miranda where the money came from. Bad times made for big secrets.

  The trucker let Jon off at the greenhouses. From there Jon had to walk to the nearest claver bus stop, about four miles. It was dark by the time he got home, but he didn’t mind. He felt safe being in Sexton. It wasn’t safe, but for a little while at least Jon was a claver, and clavers were safe.

  Still, he felt uneasy when he saw the house was dark. He called for Lisa, then Ruby, but there was no answer.

  Most likely Lisa was at work, he told himself. Ruby might have taken off when she saw Gabe was missing. Or Lisa might have sent her back to White Birch or to some clavers who needed another grub. Jon couldn’t picture Lisa scrubbing floors, but maybe without Gabe around, Lisa didn’t care if the floors were clean.

  It was also possible the police had tracked Lisa down and she and Ruby were being held. Even if Lisa claimed full responsibility, the cops might keep Ruby. If they let Ruby go, there’d be no reason for her to come back. She’d be sent to a different family, to crawl into a different man’s bed.

  Jon sat in the living room, thinking about his options. He couldn’t go to the police, not unless he knew Lisa was being held. If she was, he could take full blame, and the police might release her. But if the police hadn’t made the connection yet between Lisa and the baby, it would be a disaster for Jon to show up.

  He could call her office,
to see if Lisa was there, but that would only be to make himself feel better. If she wasn’t there, it could make things worse. Maybe Lisa had changed her mind and left Sexton. She could have called into work that morning, said she was sick and not coming in, and grabbed a ride out of town with a trucker, just as Jon had grabbed a ride in with one. For all he knew, Lisa could be at Matt’s already. She could have brought Ruby with her.

  Maybe Lisa had figured out a way to let the authorities know she was to blame and no one else was. Or maybe she didn’t care anymore if someone else was held responsible just as long as she could be with Gabe.

  Or maybe she was working late and would come home any minute, and she and Jon could discuss what to do next.

  Jon went into the kitchen and took some chicken out of the refrigerator, but after a bite or two he put it back. He was tired, dirty, and hungry, but more than anything, he was scared. How many years had it been since he was alone in a house? Even back in Pennsylvania it seemed like there had always been someone around. And back in Pennsylvania there had been no reason to feel this engulfing terror.

  He walked upstairs. He couldn’t be sure what tomorrow would bring, but he’d be better off getting a good night’s sleep. It could well be the last one he’d have in this house, in any house.

  Lisa’s bedroom door was closed. Jon opened it and turned on a light. She was sitting in her desk chair, her head down on the desk. Almost immediately Jon noticed the gun lying on the floor by her side.

  Jon had been with his father when he died. He had seen his mother’s corpse hanging from a tree. Death had been as much of a part of his life as hunger and fear.

  He walked to Lisa. She’d shot herself in her heart. There was no way of knowing if the shot had killed her or if she’d died a slower death, her blood flowing out of her. It didn’t matter, really. Dead was dead.

  She’d left a note.

  I take full responsibility for the kidnapping of the Stockton baby.

  The only other people involved were the baby’s biological parents.