“Good ones.” Sinner tucked the pillow case under his hips. “When did Stinky run off?”
“Who knows. Sleazy little douchemonkey hauled ass in the middle of the night when normal people sleep.” He pulled the blinds up and stared out the window. “He’s probably scattered across a half dozen lawns right now in the shape of Rager turds.”
Sinner nodded. “Probably.” He looked at Simon and raised a brow. “After you cleaned out that house across the way, did you see any signs of others?”
Simon shook his head as the night’s adventures played back in his mind. He smiled to himself then squared his shoulders. “No. I didn’t see nothing.” He cursed again and threw his hands in the air. “I knew I should have shot that bastard when I had the chance.”
Sinner nodded absently. “Yeah, you sure should have.” He yawned and rolled onto his good shoulder. “Pull those blinds to before you leave, would ya?”
Simon glared at the man but he did shut the blinds. He marched back out to the living room. “Take my bike. Keys are in it. Go to the Cagers’ place and see if you can spot Stinky anywhere. Find that cow Donna and if his nose ain’t up her ass, get right back here. It’s almost dark.”
“You got it, boss.” Shooter bolted through the door leaving Simon to stew in his juices.
“I should have shot that bastard when I had the chance.” He kicked the ottoman over then fell into the recliner. “Where the hell is my bottle?”
Trevor lowered his head to peer out from under the bridge. He nudged Patricia. “Hey kiddo, it’s almost dark. You should probably wake up and eat something.”
He dug through his pack and pulled out a small canned ham. He pulled the tab on the top and peeled the lid off. He set it in front of her as he went for a can of peaches. He dug into his pocket and pulled out his trusty P51 can opener. He motioned toward the canned ham. “Go ahead kiddo. That’s for you.”
She continued to stare at him as he worked on opening the peaches. “Don’t tell me I’ve spoiled your appetite for meat by giving you canned fruit?” he chuckled to himself.
Once the lid was off, he set the peaches aside and picked up the ham. He waved it under her nose to let her get the scent. “Go ahead. It’s pretty good for canned meat.”
She followed the can, her nose working overtime sniffing it. He made a motion with his hand, hoping she would pick up on it. “Come on, Patty. Just stick your hand in there and pick it up.”
He sighed and pulled out his knife. He stabbed the cooked ham and lifted it from the can. The gelatinous goo dripped from the pink meat as he shook it off. He pulled the chunk of meat from his knife and held it out to her. She stared at him with wide eyes.
With a sigh he took her hand and opened her fingers. He placed the slippery ham in her grip and let go. She never broke eye contact with him as she slowly raised the meat to her mouth. Suddenly, her face changed. He watched her all but inhale the small chunk of pork. She licked the jelly from her fingers in a very unladylike manner.
Trevor reached for the can of peaches and held it out to her. She stared at him but made no move to reach for the fruit. Once again, he had to take her hand and wrap her fingers around the tin. “This is for you. Go ahead.”
She continued to hold the can and stare at him. Trevor fought a wave of frustration as she seemed painfully unaware. She could seem so smart at times; why would she not feed herself?
He was about to give up then realized she had been living with other Ragers. Maybe there was a hierarchy when it came to food and eating?
He pulled the can toward himself and pulled a sliced peach from it. He slipped it into his mouth then pushed the can closer to her. “Those are yours. I’m done.” He held his hands up and smiled at her. “Yum.”
She continued to stare at him blankly.
“Doggone it, Patricia. What do I have to do?” He took the can from her and pulled out a peach slice. He rubbed it against her lips and she quickly opened her mouth, snapping at the fruit in his hands.
Trevor yanked his hand back and stared at his digits. “No snapping like that, kiddo! You coulda bit me.” He handed her the can again and stuffed her fingers inside.
She stared at him then pulled her fingers out, licking them clean. He motioned to the peaches. “Come on, baby girl. Feed yourself.”
She slowly lowered her face to the can and drank greedily from the syrup inside. He watched her as she tilted the can and sucked the peaches out, chewing them slightly before swallowing.
“I know, it ain’t fireman liver or the heart of an Amway salesman, but trust me…you’re much less likely to get shot eating this than people.” He reached over and scruffed her head. He froze, having forgotten that she had no hair, but the look on her face brought a smile to his. “You like that?”
He reached out and scruffed her head again. Slowly, a crooked smile began to form on her face and Trevor wanted to cry out with joy. He scruffed her head again and she broke into a toothy grin. He pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her. “You just made me so happy.”
He pulled back from her and saw her smile again. He had to sniff back a tear as he pulled her close. “You’re pretty awesome, kid.” He scruffed her head again then hugged her. “Just like your old man.”
Chapter 13
Candy stepped beside Hatcher and poked him in the ribs. He jumped then turned on her. “You could just say hi.”
She nudged him with a smile. “It’s funner to watch you jump.”
Hatcher pulled his gloves off and turned to face her. “You want something or you just like being a pain in my ribs?”
“Both.” She handed him a clipboard. “Vic and I worked on it.”
“What’s this?” He held the clipboard out to read it better. “I don’t get it.”
“I had the list of newcomers and what they did before, so Vic and I went through our first group and found out what talents and interests they had. Then we put it all together.” She pointed to the list. “We put the people with military or police experience in this group. People who like to garden or farm in this group. Over here are the folks who like—”
“Yep. Got it.” Hatcher handed her back the clip board. “So what are you thinking?”
“We let people do what they do. We have a couple of ladies who love to bake. I’m thinking we could have fresh bread and pastries again?” She raised her brows at him, hopeful.
Hatcher slapped the dirt from his hands then nodded. “Tell ya what. You and Vic talk with the folks and make sure this is what they want to do; sometimes people need a change. But, I’m all for it.” He stood tall and stretched his back. “Get me a list of people who are willing to stand sentry duty and we’ll work on a rotation.” He glanced out past the new fence; he could feel eyes on them.
Candy squeezed his shoulder. “This is a good thing we’re doing here, Daniel.”
He nodded absently then pulled her aside. “Do me a favor, okay? You were a cop, right? Like, a street cop?”
“I was a deputy sheriff, but yeah, I worked some cases that might fall into that category.”
Hatcher took a deep breath and confided in her. “I have this really…uneasy feeling. Like we’re missing something obvious here. Maybe it’s because we’re not all cooped up in a steel building with limited access points…I don’t know.” He glanced back at the stucco building and shook his head. “Maybe it’s all the windows and doors. Maybe…maybe it’s because it’s so close to how things used to be. I can’t explain it; I have a bad feeling.”
She chuckled lightly and pulled him through the gate. “Take a look here. We have a ten or twelve foot high cyclone fence and the boys are stretching razor wire as we speak.”
“Barbed wire.” Hatcher corrected. “There’s a difference.”
“Fine. Barbed wire.” She spun him around. “There’s a rock wall that’s what? Eight…ten feet tall? We have an adobe building with clay tile roof. Mud bricks and clay don’t burn so they can’t use flaming arrows.” She smiled at him. �
��Yeah, we’re as secure as we’re going to be anywhere. Except now people have privacy. They have hot and cold running water. They have electricity that they can use, not just a single solar panel for recharging radios and stuff.” She took a deep breath and sighed. “Please stop stressing, Hatch. This is the beginning of a whole new world for all of us.”
“You don’t have to sell me on all the pros to this place. I get it.” He shook his head and sighed. “I just can’t help but worry about the unseen ‘cons.’”
“Maybe there aren’t any?” She patted his shoulder. “Relax a bit. Once the garden and the greenhouse are up and running we can look into building a still.” She poked him in the ribs again. “Somebody needs to relax, and hey, if it takes cheap homemade hooch to do it…” She let her statement hang in the air as she turned back to the main lobby. “I’ll get you that list this evening.”
Hatcher looked into the sky. “It IS evening.”
Carol stood to the side while sailors carried in their equipment and stacked it neatly to the sides. On occasion, she would spot something and point out where it went. Dr. Broussard rifled through things and did his best to wipe off the salt water that had sprayed onto the sensitive gear, praying that nothing was damaged in the move.
“I’m impressed that they salvaged as much as they did.”
Carol nodded, “Me too.”
“They can save your stuff but they couldn’t pull a stack of petri dishes from the incubator for me?” Kevin kicked at a metal case then dropped to sit on it, nursing his ankle. “And where are the others? Surely we aren’t all that survived Vivian’s temper tantrum.”
Carol turned on him, her face livid. “Don’t you even!” She marched toward him, her finger pointing in his face. Her voice dropped to a hoarse whisper. “Don’t you dare belittle what she went through. Yes, Vivian LaRue was a total bitch to work for but she’s a co-discoverer of this plague and she fell to it. We know damned good and well what this virus does to people thanks to Charles and his sacrifice.”
“Sacrifice?” Kevin made no effort to lower his voice as he slowly came to his feet. “Charles was clumsy and got scratched by an infected person.” He turned a slow circle, his arms outstretched. “And speaking of your cured patient, where the hell is he? Is he just walking around the ship like he owns the place? Is he gonna lose it and scratch somebody and make us abandon ship again?”
Carol stepped closer and got in his face. “He was locked in an isolation ward. The same isolation ward that Vivian broke into and…” She swallowed hard, the words not coming out. “So now what’s left of our one, single, cured patient is lying at the bottom of the ocean in an iron coffin.” Her jaw quivered with anger as she berated the man. “Maybe you should be more careful with what you let slip out of your mouth.”
Kevin stood to his full height and glared at her. “Who died and left you in charge, huh?”
Broussard stepped between the two. “I believe that would be Dr. LaRue.” He towered over the two researchers and shook his head. “Be professional. Or, at least be civil. The fate of mankind may well depend on the three of us continuing our work.”
Trevor held Patricia’s hand as they walked the narrow streets through a run-down section of housing. Occasionally she would pull closer and cling to him when an unfamiliar sound was heard. He would wrap his arm protectively around her and continue.
Trevor spoke to her calmly, mostly to hear himself and break the eerie silence of the seemingly empty town. “So maybe we can find ourselves someplace nice. Some place that still has food in it.” He pulled her tighter to him as they walked. “Maybe even a real bed.”
She stopped walking and he tugged gently on her hand. “Come on. Not this side of town. We need to find someplace safe.”
She fell back into step with him and he led her across a paved road and between a small, burned-out gas station and a metal garage. He kept his voice low, but he continued to talk. “We can find a big house with lots of rooms. And soft beds.” He gave her a gentle smile. “And we’ll find you lots of clothes and shoes…girls like shoes, don’t they?
“And we’ll get ribbons for your hair and…” He paused and glanced at her. She seemed unfazed by his comment, so he continued. “Maybe we’ll get you some hair, too. In case yours doesn’t grow back.” He chuckled at himself. “Heck, we can get you a stack of wigs. If you wake up and feel blonde, boom! You’re a blonde. Feeling sassy and want to be a redhead? Well, there ya go. Slip it on and instantly you got attitude. Or maybe you want to be dark and mysterious? We’ll get you a brunette wig. Maybe one cut short like a pixie or a pageboy.” He glanced at her and smiled. “You could rock that look.”
She pointed to a sign and he stopped. He bent low and followed her arm. It was a road sign. “Do you know that street?” He looked at her and in the dim light he saw her eyes widen as she thrust her arm out. “What is it, Patty?”
Trevor picked her up and carried her toward the sign. He studied her face as she tilted her head and stared at the metal placard. “This?” He lifted her tiny body up and she ran her hand along the surface. She turned to him and smiled.
“Wait…green? Is that it? You like green?” He set her back down and she smiled at him again. “Okay then. We’ll find you a green wig. You can be a punk rocker if you want.” He tugged at her and they walked across the street.
Trevor stopped at a storefront and tried to see into the darkened building. “Oh, baby girl…have I got a surprise for you.”
He led her up to the entrance and pushed at the shattered front door. It crunched on the broken glass and he stepped cautiously inside. “Hello?”
Trevor froze and listened carefully. He could just make out her rapid breathing, so he lifted her and carried her over the shattered glass and into the darkened interior. “Every little girl needs a makeover once in a while.”
He set her down carefully on the counter and turned to look at the short aisles. “This used to be a ladies’ store. They got hair sprays and dyes and makeup and…” He turned and held a finger up. “You wait right here. I’ll be just over there.”
He cautiously stepped to the first aisle, his eyes staying on her. She swung her legs like a normal child, and he let the breath out that he had been holding.
Trevor pulled out his lighter and lit it, giving him a small flame to see by. He smiled as he pulled a few items from a hook then turned back to her. “How about we try something here?” He held up an eye liner pencil.
She sat patiently, staring at him as he drew her eyebrows back. He opened a dark purple lipstick and added color to her mouth. He stepped back and in the dwindling light and nodded at his work. He grabbed the closest mirror and wiped it across his shirt front, smearing the dust away.
He held it up, letting her see her reflection. “This is you.”
Her eyes widened. She stared at the reflection then at him. Slowly she raised her hand and traced the colors on the glass.
“Do you like it?” He winced as she continued to stare. “I’m no Picasso.” He sighed and lowered the mirror. “Sorry, kiddo.”
Patricia snatched the mirror from his hand and held it up again, staring at her reflection. Trevor waited, hoping she didn’t do something violent. “I don’t guess this means that you DO like it?”
He glanced around the shop just to be sure they hadn’t attracted unwanted attention. He turned back to her and nodded. “Baby girl, you rock the goth look. You already have the skin tone for it.”
She looked at him; slowly a smile formed.
“So, you do like it?” He nodded harder and held his fingers up in the rocker’s horns. “I’m gonna have to teach you about this.”
He lifted her from the counter and set her on the floor. “If I could find you a black leather jacket…maybe a spiked dog collar, you’d be all set for a Kiss concert.”
She reached out and took his hand again. “You ready to go?” He slipped the lipstick and eye liner into his jacket pocket and hefted his bag again. “That was a short
girls’ night out.”
The pair strode out into the darkening evening and Trevor led her to the highway and over to the nicer side of town. “I know the nice people lived way over on the other side.” He slowed his gait and bit at his lip. “That’s where Donna is now. We weren’t married for long…if you can even call it a marriage.” He glanced at her, but she only stared into the distance. “Simon gave her to me. Said nobody else would want her because she was…well, she was a bigger woman.” He shook his head. “She seemed nice at first but then she got mean. She didn’t want to hear about Lacey or you or…” He stopped and stared at her. “I didn’t mean you, I meant…”
She continued walking, pulling at his arm. Trevor fell back into step and caught up with her. “Do you know where we’re going? Because I don’t.” He chuckled and looked up at the moon in the sky.
Patricia paused and squeezed his hand. “What is it? What’s wrong?”
She turned wide eyes to him and tugged him quickly, pulling him to the other side of the street. She ducked into a building and bent low, her eyes peering into the darkness. Trevor bent over and stared at her. “What is it, baby girl? Did you hear something?”
She reached out and grabbed at is pants leg, pulling him inside with frightening strength. Trevor tried to crawl but before he could balance himself she dragged him into the building and behind her. He stared at her with wide eyes. “How did you…?”
She turned and held her tiny hand over his mouth then slowly turned back and stared into the night. Trevor crawled up beside her and stared over her shoulder. He thought he saw movement; he felt his body stiffen as his fight or flight instincts maxed.
He tried to swallow but his mouth was dry. He felt his hands shaking as he watched three pale adults dart between two buildings and out into the street near where they had been. The first adult was obviously a male. He sniffed hard at the air then turned to the other two and screamed, sending chills down Trevor’s spine.
Caldera Book 6: New World Order Page 11