She shrugged.
“The tape isn’t stopping the bleeding. Shit. This isn’t good.”
“What’s the difference? I’m alive, aren’t I?”
“Yeah, but I don’t know anything about medicine. What if it gets infected? What if it opens up and you bleed to death in your sleep?”
She shrugged again. Somehow, it just didn’t seem like a big concern to her. She’d lived through her own attempt to end her life, so why should she be worried about accidentally dying?
There was definitely some sort of mental disconnect, but she couldn’t quite recognize it. Maybe it was the stress. Maybe it was something else.
“What are we going to do?”
“Do?” she said.
“Yeah. Like get you to a hospital.”
She laughed. “A hospital? You think they’re functioning?”
He didn’t answer. She was aware that he already knew a hospital was out of the question.
She could picture what a hospital would be like. Bodies all over the place. More bodies than anyone could count.
The doctors, nurses, and hospital staff would be in just as bad shape as the patients. Meaning that they’d be dead. Meaning that they’d be hemorrhaging out all over the place. Meaning that there’d be men and women in once-pristine white lab coats lying in the corridors and offices.
“I guess we can’t go to a hospital.”
“Then where?”
She looked him in the eyes.
There was worry and fear there.
He had something in him that made him keep ticking. Just like she did.
But they were both lost.
They had no idea what they were doing.
They had a minimum of gear with them.
They had a sparse selection of skills that would serve them.
They had no plans. Nowhere to go. No one but each other to help them.
They’d be lucky if they lived another day.
17
Joe
“So what’s the plan, Joe?” said Sean, shifting his weight in the passenger seat nervously.
There was no one in sight. The sun was illuminating the dirt and the juniper trees.
The mountains had never looked more majestic, more mysterious, as they reached into the clouds.
It was a perfect spring day near Cerillos. If the virus hadn’t struck, tourists would soon have been pouring into the area from all over, heading to the quaint little town of Madrid (pronounced MAD-rid).
Joe’s ancient pickup bounced over the dirt road that had almost, over the years, faded into nothing.
“It’s a classic,” said Joe. “We pick them off one by one.”
“One by one?”
“Yup.”
“What do you mean? Like sneak up on them and take them out?”
“Basically,” said Joe.
“We don’t have rifles,” said Sean. “Even a twenty-two caliber hunting rifle would be better than some shotguns...plus, how do we know they’re going to split up? They were pretty much stuck together when they drove us off your land.”
“Oh, they’ll split up,” said Joe. “They always do.”
“They always do? You’re talking like you’ve done this before, but I think you’ve seen too many movies.”
“Hey,” said Joe. “I can let you off here if that’s what you want.”
“You know I’m with you on this, Joe,” said Sean. “No matter how crazy your plan is, it’s better than my alternatives.”
“That’s what I like to hear. Loyalty for the right reasons,” said Joe sarcastically.
“You know me,” said Sean. “Always practical.”
Joe laughed.
If Sean was anything, he wasn’t practical. “If you were practical,” he said. “You would have stayed on the East Coast. You’d be working for a mutual fund right now, isn’t that right?”
“And I’d probably have blown my brains out long ago,” said Sean. “I figure this is all a gift, these years out here in the high desert. Like a bonus life or something.”
“Good,” said Joe. “Because this is going to be pretty risky.”
“You’re talking like you’re a villain from some old army movie or something. You know the ones, from, like, the sixties?”
“Nope,” said Joe. “I mean, how many movies have you ever seen me watch?”
“Good point.”
While Joe did have electricity, with some generators and more recently, solar panels, he didn’t own a television. And he didn’t want to spend his time watching TV or movies anyway. Not when there was work to do on his land, when there were clouds and sunsets to watch.
“So,” said Joe. “In these movies you’ve seen, how do they go about concocting their plans?”
“Are you serious?”
“Serious?”
“Yeah. Are you seriously asking me for the plots to movies because you don’t have any better plans?”
“Uh,” said Joe.
Sean laughed.
It was good to hear laughter despite the situation and Joe found himself laughing too.
If it hadn’t been for the virus, for the collapse of civilization, for the invasion of Joe’s property, this would have been just a great day. Any day where Joe and Sean were off somewhere on a bumpy road in the pickup, on some Quixotic quest, traveling to some remote corner of Joe’s land—any day like that was a good day.
And there were no outward signs that this wasn’t just another good day. The weather was perfect. The temperature couldn’t have been better. The humidity was low, just as Joe had always liked it.
“Well,” said Joe, his laughter finally dying down. “You got any plans or not?”
“All right,” said Sean, still chuckling a little. “Well, from what I can remember...”
“Great. We’re relying on Sean’s stellar memory. I hope you haven’t been hitting the vodka as hard this month as last.
“That was an anomaly and you know it. It’s not like I’m a big drinker.”
“Bigger than me.”
“You don’t drink at all.”
Joe shrugged. “Saves me money,” he said. “Never developed a taste for the stuff.”
“Well, you’re missing out at night, but not in the morning.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The hangover, man. Hangovers are killer.”
“So I’ve heard. All right. We’re getting close now. So spit it out.”
“Basically what you do,” said Sean, “is you sneak around together as a team. You find someone on their own and you sneak up behind them. One guy stays back as a lookout. And then you kill them as quietly as you can. We are talking about killing them, right? That’s not off the table?”
“Of course we’re going to kill them,” said Joe. “What choice do we have? We’ve asked them nicely to leave. I’ve got a right to defend my property. Knocking them out isn’t going to do me any good. Not with how many of them have come.”
“I’ve never killed anyone before,” said Sean.
“You’ll get used to it.”
“Wait, have you?”
Joe didn’t answer. He just shrugged.
“What?” said Sean, shock in his voice. “You’ve killed someone? Are you serious?
“I can’t get this damn dirt off the windshield,” muttered Joe, hitting the windshield wiper button that sent cleaning fluid onto the windshield.
The wipers moved back and forth, but didn’t seem to do anything to the thin layer of dirt that was caked on.
“You’re not going to answer the question, are you?”
“Some questions are better left unanswered. Let’s just leave it at that and concentrate on what we’ve got to do.”
The bumpy road had led them to the back edge of Joe’s property.
“From what I understand,” said Sean. “We’re going to sneak up on the bad guys like some kind of tactical ninjas. Kill them and then move onto the next target. Repeat until they’re all dead and we’
re somehow miraculously alive, despite the incredible odds against us.”
“Sounds like you’ve got it, kid,” said Joe. “You’re a quicker study than you seem sometimes.”
Sean let out a derisive laugh.
“It’s not going to be that bad,” said Joe. “You’d be surprised what simply doing the unexpected will get you.”
“Oh, I have a clue,” said Sean. “After all, all you’ve ever taught me is basically to do the unexpected. We’ve just never done actual combat together.”
“Nothing to it,” said Joe, his voice deadpan.
Sean laughed.
It was gallows humor. Helpful. Useful. Somehow important. Somehow funnier than a TV show, but in a very different way.
“Uh, Joe,” said Sean.
Joe had already seen it.
They’d just mounted the crest of a slight hill. Up ahead, now visible, there were two vehicles. Two pickup trucks.
The heads inside the vehicles were easy to count. The strong sun made the heads look like shadows, just dark silhouettes.
Two heads in each pickup.
Not to mention two men standing between the pickups.
“Six of them,” said Sean.
“Got it,” said Joe.
“Looks like they’ve been expecting us,” said Sean. “Not sure your surprise plan is going to work.”
“Me neither,” said Joe.
He had nothing better to say. His mind was searching desperately for another plan.
But it came up with nothing.
Not knowing what to do, he kept driving, heading right toward the pickups. He was in over his head and he realized that now. The cockiness that he’d felt was fading fast. He was heading toward his land after all. Anyway, where else would he go?
It was his land.
He’d fight for it. No matter what.
But could he drag Sean into this?
Maybe Sean would stand a chance if he was left on his own. Or maybe he wouldn’t. After all, what about the virus? What about water? Food?
“What’ll it be, Sean?” said Joe.
“What’ll what be?” said Sean.
He didn’t know what Joe was talking about and Joe didn’t quite have the heart to be more explicit.
18
Matt
“How’s she doing?”
“About the same, I think.”
Matt and Jamie spoke in whispers. They were a few feet away from Judy, who was lying on her back on the dirt. They’d propped her head up, making a makeshift pillow with the few warm shirts that they’d brought along with them.
“I’m pretty sure she didn’t have a heart attack.”
“No, I don’t think so either,” said Matt. “But she’s not doing well.”
“No, she’s not. She definitely can’t continue on foot. At least not until she’s had a few hours of rest.”
“It’s a long, tough journey on foot,” said Matt. “And that’s assuming we don’t encounter any obstacles or other difficulties.”
“Yeah. Just the walk is tough.”
“It’s hardly just a walk. We’re talking about a climb of a thousand feet at least. Probably more.”
“I get it. Just a figure of speech.”
Matt nodded.
“So,” Jamie said. “What do we do?”
“What can we do? Wait until she’s feeling well enough to walk.”
“What about doing something else? Like somehow getting a car?”
“How are we going to do that?”
“I don’t know. Just an idea. Probably a bad one.”
Matt nodded. “Yeah,” he said, looking around, letting his eyes wander toward the mountains, toward the road, towards the sun, and toward the moon.
There really wasn’t much around. The land was all private and largely undeveloped. People with money or family ties kept the land in a state of static holding.
“I guess we’ll just have to wait.”
“You know I can hear you two, right?” said Judy, speaking for the first time in a long while.
She didn’t sound too bad. A little tired, maybe, but certainly not near death.
“How are you feeling, Judy?” said Jamie, going over to her, bending down, sounding like a kind nurse.
“Give me a break,” snapped Judy. “I’m fine. You don’t need to treat me like an invalid.”
“But...”
“It’s not like I actually had a heart attack,” she said. “I’m feeling a lot better now.”
Before they knew it, Judy had risen to her feet and was standing there, perhaps a little shaky, but still standing there.
“Well,” she said. “Are you two going to just stand around all day? Or are we going to get going? Come on, I’m not dead yet, am I?”
“Uh, but, Judy. We thought it’d be best if you rested for a while. Something happened to you. We don’t know what it was. Don’t you think you should rest?”
“The way I see it,” said Judy. “Is that if something’s going to happen to me, it’s going to happen whether I rest now or not. We can’t stay here. We’ll die pretty soon, when we run out of water. We either get to my cousin’s place or we die. It’s as simple as that. So I’m going to do my best to get there and I suggest that you two come with me and do the same. If I drop dead on the way there and my heart finally actually does give out, then so be it. You know how to get to his place yourselves and I’ll tell you some childhood stories about Joe that’ll prove to him that you know me. I can’t promise he’ll accept you, but I think he would. If it’s still just him out there all alone, he could use some help.”
Jamie glanced over at Matt. Her eyes were wide and seemed to say, “This is crazy, right? We’ve got to stop her. She’s an older woman. She needs to rest.”
“Makes sense to me,” said Matt, reaching down and picking up the large plastic bag that he’d carried there. He swung it up and over his shoulder, the weight settling comfortably on him. “Jamie? You ready?”
“Uh,” said Jamie. “Shouldn’t we talk about this? It doesn’t seem like you had a heart attack, but maybe you did have some kind of heart event, as they say.”
“Jamie...” said Matt, trying to cut her off.
But Judy did it for him.
“Jamie,” she said. “I’m a few decades older than you. I know what I’m doing. This is my life. I get to decide. And I’ve decided that we’re going on, okay? If I die, it won’t be with any regrets. I’m increasing my own chances of survival. And I’m also making sure that I don’t bring you two down with me.”
Matt caught Jamie’s eye. He raised his eyebrows, as if to say, “I wouldn’t mess with her if I were you. She knows what she’s doing.”
Judy had already lost her own son. She’d had two options with Damian. She’d taken the tougher one, but the right one.
She was a strong woman. She’d make it.
Or she wouldn’t.
The three of them started off. Judy insisted on leading the way. The best Matt and Jamie could do was take a larger share of the gear, shouldering and dealing with the extra weight as best they could. Matt, in particular, was really weighed down and with each step he wondered if he should throw some of it away.
No, better keep it, he always managed to decide. It might mean the difference between life and death sometime in the future.
Judy kept up a fast pace and soon all three of them were sweating under the sun and had covered some serious ground.
They saw no one for at least an hour.
Then, finally, they heard a vehicle’s engine far off in the distance. It was the only mechanical sound among the simple sounds of nature, so it was easy to recognize long before they even saw the vehicle.
“Come on,” called out Matt, leaving the roadway they’d been walking along because the terrain had proved too difficult.
The three of them scrambled through the field of shrubby plants, up a small embankment, looking for something to conceal themselves behind. There was no telling if the approaching ve
hicle would pay them any attention or not. No telling if it was full of people like themselves, merely trying to survive in a world gone mad, or whether it was full of maniacs intent on taking full advantage of the virus’s chaos.
19
Will
“You’re bleeding too much,” said Will. “Come here. We’ve got to get more tape on your wrists.”
“You think more tape is the solution? It won’t hold. It can’t hold.”
“Well, it saved your life once,” snapped Will. “You were so desperate to end it. And now you’re worried that the duct tape won’t do the trick? Do you have any better ideas?”
He sounded just like his parents, how they’d yelled at him when he was a kid. He was using their language and even using their hand gestures. Maybe it was because he was talking to someone quite a bit younger than himself, someone who he, for some strange reason, found that he cared quite a bit whether she lived or died.
Maybe it was actually just selfishness disguising itself as altruism. He didn’t know. He didn’t give it much thought.
He just knew that it was important that Sara lived.
If she hadn’t been here, what would he have been doing? He was positive that he would have given up. He was positive that he’d still be in that gymnasium, barely able to stomach the sight of the countless bodies around him. Maybe he’d be staving off dehydration by drinking from the bathroom faucet. Or maybe not. Maybe he’d already be dead from some unexpected fate.
Sara had kept him alive. Taking care of someone else, being responsible for someone else. It had changed his attitude and outlook completely. Made him want to live himself.
And that was what was important: wanting to live.
Of course, preparation and planning were important too.
And Will and Sara completely failed at that.
It might be their downfall.
“Come here,” he hissed, taking her by the hand and almost dragging her off the sidewalk into somebody’s front yard.
It was another squat little faux-adobe house. The yard was mostly just dirt with a couple rusted-out pieces of metal folk art lying around, as if they’d been scattered there with no purpose.
Last Pandemic (Book 2): Escape The City Page 10