by Penn Gates
Cash Hatfield’s eyes crinkle at the corners as if he can read her mind. “When Cindi got knocked up,” he says, “She was in a pickle - but she figured out pretty quick hippy communes are perfect for runnin’ a con job.”
“In Arizona,” Lisa says, playing along. “And after, she dumped Nix with her grandparents?”
Lisa sees the muscles in his jaw work. The anger is tightly controlled, but just below the surface. Not at her, she realizes, but at the woman who robbed his wife of a normal childhood.
“Nix did live here sometimes, but now and again Cindi would stop by the farm and grab her little girl for awhile - if she needed to play the pity card.”
He rises from the bed in one effortless movement. There it is again, that hint of a man trained to be dangerous - but taking pains to hide it with the story of a bad back.
“You know, somehow or other, we started stickin’ folks in here when they got sick or wounded. With the crowd we got, there’s not much privacy.” For a second he stares into space. “These four walls have seen their share of illness and death,” he mutters.
“I-I’m sorry to hear that,” Lisa says, surprised by his willingness to share a painful memory.
“Just the way it is since Geezer,” he replies. “We’re all the walkin’ wounded one way or another.” It seems like a casual comment until he adds, “Sounds like you were pretty rough on George awhile ago.”
“It would be better if George stays out of my way,” Lisa retorts. “He only asks about Janet to make himself feel better about abandoning her.”
“George isn’t a bad guy,” Hatfield says earnestly. “Some folks are just born unlikable. They try twice as hard as the rest of us, but they got a tin ear when it comes to other folk’s feelings.”
“Truth be told, I kinda feel sorry for ol’ George,” Hatfield adds. “The boy’s like a grain of sand in any group - a constant irritant. I keep hopin’ someday he’ll produce a pearl of wisdom ‘stead of that nonstop stream of tips on salvation.”
Hatfield snaps his fingers. “That reminds me - I owe you an apology. Holden told me it was him who tried to swipe Nix’s blood, not you.”
Lisa remains silent. This could be what he’s been looking for all along. The dumb doctor falls right into the trap and confirms his suspicions.
“Well - I should be getting back to Hamlin,” Lisa says. “Once again, I’m sorry if I upset Nix, Mr. Hatfield.”
“Call me Cash,” he tells her with a grin.
When Lisa climbs into the truck, Holden doesn’t waste time getting to the point. “Heard Hatfield had to talk his wife out of driving into Hamlin and shooting Cindi Lou.”
“What!” Lisa tries to gauge his expression. “That’s hyperbole - right?”
“Why don’t you try speaking the language of us ordinary people?” He jerks the wheel left onto the highway. “It’s better if you stick with your slides and test tubes, and let me handle the communications with the St Clair bunch.”
“And you should just stick to your own guns and stop telling me what to do!” Lisa retorts, stung by his criticism - even though it’s exactly what she tells herself all the time.
He laughs out loud at her unintentional double meaning. “I always have, doc. These days, it’s the only way to make sure we all keep breathing.”
CHAPTER 20: Rats In The Pantry
Lisa leaves Holden cussing over the mobile lab’s generator. It’s inexplicably developed a slight cough - but his bad mood has been firmly in place since yesterday. She slips in the rear entrance of the school and is instantly rewarded with soul-soothing silence. She takes a deep breath and heads for the kitchen where two refrigerators run continuously off a portable generator out back. The smaller one has a hazardous material sign prominently displayed on its front and is padlocked.
She pulls a key from her pocket to retrieve her precious slides, but freezes when she hears a rustling sound in the storage closet. What if a rodent is after the bags of flour and sugar? An abandoned town has to be full of opportunistic vermin by now - maybe the whole world is.
She grabs a broom and yanks open the door, her heart beating wildly. What she finds isn’t frightening after all, but it does make her feel sick to her stomach. Private Diggs has Cindi Lou pressed against the back wall, and she’s moaning. Impulsively, Lisa whacks Diggs across his shoulders with the business end of the broom.
Diggs yelps and pushes himself away from Cindi Lou. Both of them are still fully clothed, and a momentary sense of relief washes over Lisa - followed closely by something resembling panic. Cindi Lou is probably a walking petri dish of infectious disease. She’s got to be isolated before she gets her claws into another sucker. Although Lisa isn’t sure any other man in the squad would be as reckless as Horn Dog.
“Come out of there right now!” Lisa says contemptuously.
Diggs obeys her immediately and stands at attention, as if military protocol might wipe away the disgust on her face. From the corner of her eye, Lisa catches movement. Old Cindi Lou has decided to make a break for it, scuttling away from the consequences - as she’s done for a lifetime as far as Lisa can tell. Not this time. Not on my watch!
“Stay right where you are!” Lisa shouts. “Or I’ll knock you on your butt!”
“I don’t take orders from you,” Cindi Lou says and spits at Lisa like a rabid cat.
“That’s it!” Lisa grabs the woman’s thin, sinewy arm and whirls her around, propelling the troublemaker back into the storage closet. Slamming the door, she leans back against it.
Private McAllister comes running to see what’s wrong and is snapped at by Lisa for his pains. “You - get Holden on the double. He’s out back by The Whale.”
“You can’t lock me in here, you bitch!” Cindi screams in muffled outrage.
Lisa keeps pressure on the door and an eye on Diggs, daring him to move an inch.
“Let me help you hold that door closed, ma’am,” he says in desperation.
She laughs harshly. “I don’t want you anywhere near me at the moment - maybe never!”
Holden hurtles into the kitchen. “What the fuck is going on?” he asks, trying to catch his breath.
“Diggs - Cindi Lou - closet,” Lisa grunts as she braces her back against the shuddering door.
“Corporal Holden - I was just looking for baking powder,” Diggs mutters, still standing ramrod straight.
“Sounds like your dough was rising without any help, asshole.” Holden smacks the back of the private’s head. “You’re confined to the stockade until I say so.”
Diggs snaps back to attention, but looks confused. “And where would that stockade be, corporal?”
“Find an empty fucking room and sit in a corner until I say different!” Holden explodes.
Colorful curses coming from the closet draw his attention to Lisa, who is struggling to hold the closet door closed. “Not going to be so easy to keep that one contained.”
Lisa raises her voice to be heard over Cindi Lou’s muffled screeching. “It isn’t easy now! How about a little help?”
Now that he knows there’s no immediate danger, Holden finds the ludicrous situation amusing. He places his hands above Lisa’s head and braces himself as he leans in, trying to ignore the way her Army issue t-shirt clings to her slender torso. “You can let go now, doc. I got it.”
“And just how would you like me to move?” she asks breathlessly.
“Would you like to rephrase that?” he asks, staring into her eyes.
Her face flames. “You’ve got me trapped as well as Cindi Lou.”
Holden turns his head and gives an ear-piercing whistle.
McAllister appears again like a genie emerging from a bottle. Or maybe just a guy listening around the corner. “What do you need me to do?” The zombie-lover looks uncertain he’ll be up to whatever task he’s about to be assigned.
“Get over here and put your weight against this,” the corporal barks, “If that crazy bitch gets out, it’ll be your ass.”
<
br /> Holden gives himself a shove like he’s doing a vertical push up and moves out of the way. Lisa doesn’t move, even though McAllister is now in place.
There’s a moment of awkward silence. “I’ve got to get away from this freak show for a few minutes and clear my head,” Holden says suddenly. “I need a smoke.”
When Lisa doesn’t follow him, he glances over his shoulder. “Are you coming?”
“Oh - was that an invitation?” she asks, relieved at the opportunity to return to their usual bickering.
She’s rewarded with a pained expression.
“Do we really need a misunderstanding in the mix today?”
Lisa raises an eyebrow. “Try harder to communicate clearly.”
McAllister is avidly listening to every word.
“We shouldn’t argue in front of the kids,” Holden stage whispers.
“On second thought, I could use some fresh air,” Lisa says suddenly.
“I know just the place.” Holden’s long strides are hard to keep up with as he heads to the school playground.
Lisa looks around at the swing sets and teeter-totters. “Why are we here, in particular?”
“I get a kick out of smoking on the playground - I always got caught when I was a kid.” He wanders over to the whirly-gig and gives it a spin. “I knew it was only a matter of time before something like this happened,” he says conversationally.
Lisa finds herself watching the muscles in his arms as he reaches out and spins the thing again. For a moment it’s hard to find the thread of the conversation. “Cash told me yesterday, she was a groupie,” she says, clearing her throat. “Nix has no idea who her father was - probably because Cindi Lou never knew, either.”
“No surprise there,” Holden says. “The question is, what the hell are we going to do? She can’t stay - it’s like adopting a stray vampire.”
Lisa smiles. How can he find anything funny about Cindi Lou - but he just did.
“It should be simple, right? Drive her somewhere far, far away - and dump her.” She swallows hard. Saying those words aloud sounds barbaric. But isn’t that what the world has been reduced to? There’s no mechanism in place to handle people like Cindi any more - if there ever was.
Holden is surprised - and pleased. “I was thinking more along the lines of a stake through the heart, but yeah - what you said.” Then he sees Lisa’s expression. “And just that fast, you’re worried about will happen to the poor old lady.”
Lisa stares at her feet and kicks at the shredded rubber surrounding the whirly-gig with the toe of her boot. Peeking from the weathered debris is a penny. Had it fallen from a child’s pocket? Was it his lucky penny? Horseshoe or rabbit’s foot, or double rainbows - all of them together hadn’t been enough to overcome the bad luck of Geezer. But still - maybe it’s a sign that things might take a turn for the better if she acts boldly.
“I had another chance yesterday - and I didn’t take the baby’s umbilical cord,” she whispers. “I wanted to - but it felt - so wrong.” She pushes at the half-buried coin, working it free. “And I was afraid.”
Holden bends down and picks up the penny without comment. She’s glad, because she doesn’t want to see the frown of disapproval on his face.
“You all risked so much to help me search for this very thing - and all I had to do was smuggle out a little DNA.” She makes herself look at him as he straightens up. “You must think I’m an idiot. ”
“I don’t think that,” Holden says quietly. “You just aren’t willing to sacrifice your ideals.”
Lisa colors. “You think I’m a bleeding heart liberal - happy to let others compromise their moral values so I can keep my virtue intact.”
“The great thing about you, Terrell, is that you’re certain you know everything - which means you don’t have to pay attention to a fuckin’ thing anybody else has to say.” He grinds out his cigarette and turns back toward the school.
“Wait,” she says, running after him. “We’re not finished.” She catches her breath. “I’ll do it - I’ll swipe Cindi Lou’s DNA.”
Holden stops suddenly. “And then what?”
“She’s a predator, isn’t she?”
“I believe I might have mentioned that. Question now is - what happens next?”
“Dump her in a ditch for all I care!” Lisa cries, trying her best to sound tough. “But first, I’ve got to get that sample.”
But Holden is looking down at the penny in his hand. “I’ve seen trick coins before, but they’re usually quarters. This damn penny has got two heads.”
“I UNDERSTAND YOU’VE had quite a colorful life,” Lisa says primly to the gypsy queen. She looks down at her hands folded on the desk in front of her. She hopes no one else in the room realizes it’s to keep her hands from shaking.
“Haven’t I, though?” Cindi Lou crows. She looks around the dusty principal’s office. “I spent a lot of time in this room as a kid. Seems like I always had a problem following rules.” Unlike her ruined voice, her laugh is still a lilting trill.
“You think this is a joke?” Holden growls from his position next to the door.
Cindi turns and rests an arm on the back of her chair. “Lighten up, soldier. Don’t you enjoy a good laugh?” she asks seductively. Her eyes take on a far away look. “They used to love my laugh.” She trills again. “The guys would tell me jokes just to hear it.”
“That’s just pitiful, lady.” Holden comments.
Cindi shrugs. “Don’t knock it if you haven’t tried it.”
“Enough!” Lisa brings her fist down on the metal desk with all the strength she can muster.
Cindi Lou actually jumps and turns away from Holden. “Who knew you could be so forceful?” she asks Lisa, arching an eyebrow and looking more than ever like her daughter.
Lisa tries to ignore her throbbing hand. “This discussion is not about me,” she snaps. “It’s about you.” She does her best to look threatening. “I’m not interested in stories of your glory days. The reason I bring up your - uh - history is your tryst with Private Diggs this afternoon.”
“Tryst?” Cindi Lou repeats sarcastically. “Does that have something to do with trying? Because I would have definitely succeeded if we hadn’t been so rudely interrupted.”
Lisa ignores the woman’s attempt to provoke her. “Apparently you’ve lived a promiscuous lifestyle - which is your business. But if you intend to stay in this town, it becomes mine.”
Cindi Lou jumps up. “You bitch—”
“Sit the fuck down!” Holden’s roar bounces off the cement block walls of the enclosed space.
“I’m healthy as a horse - as my daddy used to say,” Cindi Lou mutters, trying a different strategy. She brightens. “And speaking of my daddy - that damn farm is mine!”
“I’m a doctor, not a lawyer,” Lisa says impatiently. “I have no opinion about legal matters.” She pushes her unruly hair off her forehead - which is damp with perspiration. “Stop changing the subject - this moment is very important to your future. If you’re going to remain here in Hamlin, you’ll need to have a full physical exam.”
“What makes you think I want to stick around here?”
“You don’t?” Lisa feels the prize she hopes for slipping from her grasp. Then she remembers the crash course Holden gave her in the art of bluffing. “Pack up your plastic bags and the corporal will give you a ride out of town right now.”
“Way out of town,” Holden adds.
Cindi Lou’s face crumples into an unconvincing imitation of pathetic tears. “All I want is a chance to visit with my daughter before I go.”
Lisa hoots with laughter. “Your daughter wants nothing to do with you.”
Again Cindi Lou tries to look pitiful. “You probably convinced her not to.”
“I can assure you, no one ever tells Nix St Clair what to do - or think.”
“Happy to hear it. She must take after her mama.”
“I doubt it,” Lisa replies. “She’s spent her
life enforcing the law, not breaking it.”
Cindi looks surprised. “My little girl is a cop? Well, I’ll be damned. Ain’t that always the way of it? Kids just got to rebel against their parent’s values.”
Lisa glances past her at Holden, who taps his watch and frowns.
“Enough chit-chat,” Lisa says sternly. “It’s decision time.”
“You wouldn’t dare abandon a defenseless old lady,” Cindi sniffs.
“Wanna bet?” Holden says. He leaves his post next to the door and sits on the corner of the desk.
He holds up a penny. “Heads you get the exam and stay - tails you go.”
“ARE YOU GOING TO BE done any time soon?” Cindi heaves a sigh. “Because this lab isn’t the size of a decent RV, and I have claustrophobia.” She barely takes a breath before continuing. “And anyway, this is so-o boring.”
Lisa pulls the stethoscope from her ears. “Well, there certainly is nothing wrong with your lungs,” she comments.
“If I’m sick or something - are you gonna kick me out?” Cindi Lou whines, as Lisa slips the needle into a vein and draws blood.
“Is that why you’ve been avoiding this exam? Are you sick?”
“I don’t feel any different than I’ve ever felt. Well - that’s not quite true.” Cindi smiles mirthlessly. “I’m just not used to being - sober - not high - whatever you want to call it. That feels a little like being sick to me. Everything’s too sharp, too loud. Too real.” She glances at Lisa hopefully. “Might you have a little medicine for that?”
“I don’t stock recreational drugs,” Lisa tells her crisply as she labels the sample. “And pain medication is reserved for emergencies.”
“I hear you delivered my daughter’s baby,” Cindi says suddenly.
“I did,” Lisa says and leaves it at that. For some reason, she doesn’t feel comfortable giving her the smallest bit of personal information about Nix.
“I had my baby naturally - no anesthetic for me.”
“I’m sure you had plenty of other drugs in your system already,” Lisa says sarcastically.