The Geezer Quest: World After Geezer: Year Two

by Penn Gates

  “I think we may have to dilute your drinks a little, or you won’t survive the night,” Nix laughs.

  “Guess what Janet told me yesterday?” Lisa rasps. Her throat is still burning.

  “Why don’t you just tell me instead?”

  “Janet and Tony Marcelli want to get married right away. Well - before I leave.”

  Nix bursts into laughter. “That’s a refreshing change. I’ve been dealing with a bunch of overindulged teenagers for a couple of years now. Right from the beginning, I had to lay down conditions to keep control - and my sanity.”

  “Like what?” Lisa asks.

  “First - and most important - condition: no hooking up, no fooling around. If you can’t live without each other, get married before you get a room.”

  Lisa thinks about her own experience. “I guess Ed was the one who came up with the rules. He was very strict about the men respecting my privacy - and Janet’s, too, after she joined us.”

  “I’m not surprised,” Nix comments. “Guy’s got a moral compass. Pretty rare, sadly. Speaking of which - moral compasses, I mean - will Janet be okay with the Quaker-style wedding which is the only kind we got at the moment?”

  “I hope so.”

  “That’s a problem for tomorrow,” Nix says, pouring a little more moonshine into Lisa’s glass. “Don’t forget the water.”

  “Cheers!” Lisa says happily.

  Nix tops off her own glass and sips at it delicately. “Did it ever occur to you that the two of us have something in common? Both of us deal with the power of life and death - just in different ways.”

  Lisa is surprised at Nix’s insight. But only for a second. She’s come to realize in the past few months that this woman has an uncanny ability to see below the surface and zero in on deeper motives. Maybe it’s the cop equivalent of diagnostics.

  This time she sips her drink with caution, but with water added, it goes down smoother. Or maybe her throat is still numb from the shock of the first one.

  “I get what you mean,” Lisa says, thinking it over. “I’d be in a pleasant conversation with someone at a cocktail party, but then they’d discover I was a doctor - and suddenly get all tongue-tied.”

  Nix laughs. “We are the gatekeepers of mortality,” she intones somberly. “You’d be amazed at how adults turn into paranoid children around a cop. It seems like most law-abiding citizens would still rather not be around the kind of power a cop has - unless, of course, they’re in danger. Then we are magically transformed into super heroes.”

  The bottle is half empty by the time Lisa mumbles, “I have a confession to make.”

  Nix raises an eyebrow. “Are you really gonna prove my point that everyone feels guilty around a cop?”

  “Uh-uh!” Lisa says vehemently. “This is connected to you - personally.”

  “Then lay it on me,” Nix slurs.

  “I - I tricked Cindi Lou into giving me a blood sample.”

  Nix smiles lazily. “You think I didn’t guess that months ago?”

  Lisa swallows the lump in her throat and forces herself to go through with what she’s started. “I told her I was giving her a vitamin shot, but it was a sedative.” She swipes at her eyes. “I drugged her, and Holden threw her in a truck and dropped her off fifty miles from Hamlin.”

  “That was a mistake,” Nix says. “He should have made it at least an even hundred.”

  But Lisa is crying now and barely hears her. “It’s the worst thing I’ve ever done. She was sick and old, and we dumped her in the wilderness. I broke my oath to do no harm.”

  “Oh for Christ’sake!” Nix snaps. “Maybe that’s how you felt then, but you gotta have figured out by now that you should have put her down like a dog.”

  Lisa gasps inwardly, but keeps her face expressionless.

  Nix takes a swig directly from the bottle. “There are people so inhuman, it doesn’t count as murder if you rid the world of them.”

  Her voice changes, and her body goes from relaxed to absolutely motionless - although Lisa is not sure how she knows when that happens.

  “Do you remember the day I confronted that bitch?” Nix doesn’t wait for an answer. “How she didn’t even bother to deny that she’d traded me for dope?”

  Lisa risks a nod.

  “She as much as admitted that she knew what would happen,” Nix snarls.

  After a long silence, Lisa can’t help herself. “Do you really think she knew?”

  “Yeah, I do.” Nix seems to make an effort to gather her wits before she speaks again. “Wanna know what happened?” She gives Lisa a death’s head smile. “The bastard was so sure he’d trapped another little bunny rabbit that he turned his back on me while he locked the door of the woodshed.”

  Lisa begins to feel dread settle in her stomach. She watches as Nix rises unsteadily from the chair and picks up a length of kindling in a basket by the fireplace. She slaps the wood against the palm of her other hand like a cop with a nightstick.

  “I grabbed a hunk - a lot heavier than this sucker - and I hit the son-of-a-bitch across the shoulders with every bit of strength I had in me! I couldn’t tell if I’d broke something with that blow - but I knew he wouldn’t be following me when I left.”

  She looks blearily into Lisa’s eyes. “I knew that - but I hit him again, anyway. I whacked him in the head.” She clears her throat. “There was a lot of blood.”

  Lisa is speechless with shock as Nix peers at her, waiting for some reaction. What does she want from me? Judgement? Absolution? Neither is mine to give, but I do know firsthand what it’s like to be a victim.

  “I’m in awe of that twelve-year-old girl,” Lisa whispers. “I think I would have been paralyzed with fear - like one of those bunny rabbits - but you did what you had to do to stop him - for good.”

  “Don’t sell yourself short,” Nix retorts. “You didn’t grovel and beg - you told Cindi Lou to fuck off, and warned everyone in this house with what you thought was your last breath.”

  Lisa is startled. She hadn’t remembered that herself until now. “How do you know that?”

  “Holden told me - how else?”

  Lisa takes the bottle from Nix and swallows some of the fiery liquid neat. They sit staring into the fire for awhile, each alone with her own thoughts.

  “Did - did anyone ever come after you?” Lisa croaks, rousing herself from her own memories.

  “Nope - the hippy-dippy shits in the commune didn’t dare call the cops. Way too much dope laying around. And besides - they all knew what he was. Some had made the same trade as Cindi did. Short of killing their own kids to keep ‘em from blabbing, the best way to go was throwing the bastard into a deep hole.”

  Lisa gives a shuddering sigh. “I’m so sorry that happened to you,” she whispers.

  “I’m not sorry,” Nix says loudly. “He was one of those monsters we been talking about. And so was that bitch, Cindi. If you’d given her a hot shot instead of a sedative, she’d have died happy - and never had the chance to try to kill us all.”

  Linda turns pale. “Are you blaming me for what almost happened?”

  “Would you please quit taking the sins of the world on your shoulders? You don’t look a God damn bit like a martyr.”

  As drunk as she is, Nix seems to realize how hostile she sounds. She staggers over to Lisa and pats her on the shoulder. “Listen, I’m not mad. I just sound like that most of the time - you know that.” She sinks to her knees in front of the fire. “Come on - let’s finish the bottle. Only a couple of drinks left.

  THE REPETITIVE THUMPING noise batters its way into Lisa’s dreams and insists she wake up.

  “Oh my God,” Lisa groans, holding her head.

  She finds herself on the uncomfortable little bed in the St Clair library - but she can’t quite remember how she ended up here. Flashes of fire. Blow to the back of her skull. A gunshot - and blood. She lies there trembling. Did all of that happen just last night? Has she been dreaming scientific breakthroughs that neve
r happened? Was what happened that night with Ed the delusion of a concussed brain?

  When she sits up, a timpani’s rolling thunder in her head joins the back beat of the bass drum coming from somewhere else. She forces her eyes open, but the world is strangely blurry. Gradually Lisa focuses enough to see Nix St Clair sound asleep in the unpadded swivel chair, with her feet propped on the edge of the roll top desk.

  “Nix—” Lisa croaks with difficulty. Her tongue feels like a piece of flannel.

  “Jesus - what’s all the racket?” Nix mumbles. Her question ends with a sharp intake of breath.

  Lisa is alarmed. “What’s wrong?”

  “I can’t feel my legs.”

  “You’ve got to get some circulation going below your knees,” Lisa instructs. “Put your feet on the floor - it’s going to be excruciating for a minute, but—”

  “Please - stop - talking,” Nix gasps, lowering her legs from the desk. “Just - need quiet ’til the needles quit stabbing me.”

  Now that Lisa is fully conscious, she realizes that the throbbing in her skull is the mother of all hangovers, but the thumping - which sounds like stampeding cattle out in the hall - continues unabated.

  Nix finally tries to stand and yelps. “Holy hell! That hurts like a son-of-a-bitch!” She staggers over to the door and throws it open. “Take a break!” she yells.

  A deep voice that Lisa recognizes as belonging to the young giant, Eric, rumbles, “Cash told us to clear out the semi before he gets back.”

  “Then you should have started a freakin’ week ago!”

  “We did,” he complains loudly. “And then we had to stop to scrub down the milk house.”

  “Just do whatever you do today very quietly.” Nix slams the door and grabs her head with both hands. “I don’t know which hurts more - my feet or my cranium.”

  “What, exactly, are they doing out there?” Lisa asks to distract her from the pain.

  “Carrying rolls of insulation up to the attic,” Nix whispers. “They’ve been sitting in that semi behind the barn since we scored it at a truck stop last year.” She looks at Lisa pleadingly. “Remind me not to raise my voice for the next twelve hours or so.”

  “Is that how long a hangover lasts?”

  “Usually - if you’re lucky,” Nix mumbles. “But last night was pretty epic.”

  This is Lisa’s very first hangover, which she will never admit to a soul. But in spite of how sick she feels, she’s proud that she’s survived a rite of initiation - and one that’s described as epic by a veteran. Maybe she’s a step closer to losing her status as a geeky outsider.

  “Coffee,” Nix says plaintively. “I need coffee.” She groans and massages her forehead. “But we don’t have any more.”

  “Ha!” Lisa says - and then wishes she hadn’t. “I stuck some in my bag before I left yesterday,” she whispers. “It’s in my backpack. I forgot to give it to Margaret.”

  “You are a lifesaver, doc.” Nix sounds more like herself at the prospect of caffeine. “Come on - let’s go brew up some medicine.” She tries to grin, but grimaces instead. “But first, I’m gonna put my head under the pump.”

  “The water will be freezing!” Lisa protests.

  “Exactly - shock therapy! It doesn’t get rid of the pain, but it definitely gives you something else to think about.

  CHAPTER 32: It’s a Plan

  Lisa has just handed Margaret the precious bag of coffee when Nix returns, her hair dripping wet. “They’re back!” she says. “They’re back from the hunt. It’s like Christmas morning!”

  She grabs the dish towel draped over Margaret’s shoulder and rubs it over her short hair before disappearing again.

  Lisa grows warm as she remembers Ed’s question before he left: How do you feel about me thinking you’re the sexiest woman in the world? Will he still want her answer? Will he still want her? Or has he had time to think it over, too, and come to another conclusion?

  Outside, a crowd of kids have gathered from all corners of the farm, their voices high-pitched with excitement. One Guard truck, then a second, rumbles up the hill after the St Clair vehicle the squad dubbed Van Frankenstein the first time they’d laid eyes on it. Lisa can’t make out who’s driving - or riding shotgun.

  Her eyes dart from truck to truck. One is filled with cardboard cartons, stacked to the canvas roof. The odd-looking van is full of - well, it’s hard to tell. The guys from the squad and the St Clair boys abandon their perches in the back of the second army vehicle. Where is Ed?

  The growl of a different sort of engine shifts her attention back to the drive as a figure with a scruff of beard and mirrored sunglasses careens around the bend on a motorcycle. He stops directly across from the back porch in a spray of gravel.

  Still straddling the bike, the man whips off his glasses. “Hey, Lisa - did you forget me already?”

  “Ed!” she says breathlessly, and then stands there like an idiot. He looks like a dangerous stranger, and she can’t think of another thing to say.

  He turns off the engine. “I’m guessing you don’t like my new look,” he says sheepishly. “As soon as I can find a razor, this mess is gone.”

  “Did you find what you were looking for?” she asks.

  He grins at her, and in spite of the scruff, he looks like Ed Holden again. “I did that a long time ago,” he says. And the look in his eyes leave no doubt of what he’s talking about.

  Lisa smiles for the first time. “I’m glad you’re back - and in one piece this time.”

  “Hey, Holden!” Cal Jones calls. “How much of the canned goods are we taking back to Hamlin?”

  “Sorry - We got a shit-ton of stuff, and now we gotta divide it up.” He stares into her eyes. “I will see you later, right?”

  But there are too many people, too many questions, too many problems. They pile up like snow drifts, Lisa thinks, and bury any chance of the personal or the private. By the time the haul from the supply hunt is separated and dispatched, both Holden and Hatfield have learned of Lisa’s discovery.

  “I want to help you all I can,” Cash tells Lisa, “But it’s gotta be right away, or you wait until next spring.”

  “I hear you struck gold,” Ed says to her late that afternoon, when they finally cross paths. He doesn’t look happy. “Congrats - now you can go home to the CDC.”

  Lisa is furious. What gives Nix or Cash - or both of them - the right to tell Ed the news? But it’s not his fault.

  “I’m sorry I didn’t have the chance to tell you myself,” she says.

  This isn’t the way it was supposed to be, Holden thinks. He couldn’t wait to get back and tell her how he felt. But what would be the point? She’ll be laser-focused on her goal, and he can’t compete with that. It’s better to keep it strictly business from here on out.

  “We’re gonna meet in the library in half an hour to talk out how we’re gonna get you down to Atlanta in one piece,” he says. “See you then.”

  “I guess that’s what you meant about us talking later,” Lisa says slowly.

  “Look - it is what it is - that’s just a fact.”

  Just like that, she thinks. Plans change, and apparently it’s not a big deal to him. How I wish I could turn off my feelings that easily.

  “Thanks for letting me know,” Lisa says. “I won’t waste any more time thinking about it.”

  “THERE’S CLOSE TO 100,000 military personnel in Georgia at any given time - most of ‘em too young to be Geezer prey.” For a few seconds, Cash contemplates the flames flickering in the library fireplace. “There ain’t another place in the States as likely to be controlled by the military. There’s three bases spread out around northwest Atlanta alone.”

  “What do you think, bro?”

  Ed whistles. “Those are pretty long odds - but what the hell? Let’s do it.”

  “You can’t go,” Lisa tells him. “You could be shot as a deserter.”

  For an instant, Holden feels a rush of warmth. Does that mean she car
es? If she does, then God help us both, he thinks.

  “By this time, anybody they decide doesn’t belong there will be in trouble.” He frowns. “And that includes you.”

  “What we can do to shorten those odds?” Cash interjects. “How well do you know Atlanta, doc?”

  Lisa draws a complete blank. She’d lived and worked in Atlanta for a year, and yet she’d never strayed outside the area of medical facilities and apartment buildings that surround the massive CDC complex like the rings of Saturn. She has no first hand knowledge of the suburbs to the north of the city.

  “Sorry - I flew into Atlanta and out again. Other than that, I took a bus to work and walked anywhere else I needed to go.” She brightens. “But I guarantee I can get into that building. I still have my ID.”

  Cash looks at the old road map spread open on the desk. “What I wouldn’t give for a satellite image of the area around the CDC.”

  “You sure you can’t think of anything that might help?” Ed asks Lisa.

  “When you take the same route every day, you start to operate on auto pilot,” she answers briefly.

  “I can help with that,” Nix interrupts. “Witnesses at a crime scene always say they can’t remember - but you’d be surprised at what you don’t know you know.”

  She motions to Lisa. “Let’s go for a little stroll.” She waggles her fingers at Cash. “We’ll be back in a bit.”

  Outside, Nix grabs Lisa’s arm. “I want you to close your eyes and make your mind a blank while I do the navigating.”

  “Maybe - if you tell me why I should follow instructions,” Lisa grumbles. “I need a reason.”

  “Of course, you do,” Nix laughs. “But you’re just gonna have to trust me, doc. I need your analytical mind to take a little nap or this won’t work.”

  “What won’t—”

  “Just close your damn eyes, Terrell!” Nix barks.

  Lisa feels a surge of anger, and just beneath it lurks the tiniest bit of fear about relinquishing control. But she shared her darkest secret with me, Lisa thinks. At this point, I either trust Nix St Clair or I don’t. She squeezes her eyes shut.