The Variables (Virulent Book 3)

by Wescott, Shelbi

  “You could have trusted me,” Darla replied. “You didn’t tell me about the other people or what you were going to do after you knew the truth…you don’t deserve peace, Lou.” She looked at him and backed her way to the door, the gun still firmly in her hand. “You deserve to live in fear. You have an amazing house and prepared for your family…but I can’t…”

  Downstairs Darla could hear shouting. There was a rumble of footsteps and then the sound of glass breaking. In an instant, she heard footsteps on the stairs. Darla looked at Lou and his face had gone ashen; a look of terror on his face.

  “Sweepers,” he breathed. “You lied!”

  Then he launched himself at her, his skinny legs carried him over the floor. Darla held her gun away from his prying grasp. Lou dug his fingers into the open sores created by the Taser prongs. She screamed as he ripped at her skin and the pain radiated down to her elbow.

  “You called them to kill us! You signaled them to kill us!”

  “Dad! Dad!” Lindsey screamed from the bed and she jumped up and tried to pry him off of Darla, but Lou was determined.

  Darla rolled and then kicked wildly, catching Lou in the stomach and she pushed herself away. The door to the bedroom swung open and a very tall man in a button-down flannel shirt stood framed by the darkness.

  “Ray,” Cricket yelled.

  Lou turned. He was breathing heavily against the floor. His right hand covered in Darla’s blood.

  “Ray,” he repeated.

  The man named Ray surveyed the room. “This isn’t good, Lou,” Ray said in a deep drawl. “I warned you.”

  “They escaped. I thought you were…” Lou didn’t even finish his sentence. He nodded slowly and his shoulders sunk to the floor. He resumed blubbering into the carpet. Darla didn’t know if she should comfort the man or spit on him. She looked down at her hand and then looked away. It was a bloodied mess of torn skin.

  “We’re taking them.”

  “I don’t know you,” Darla started and she say Ray’s eyes go to the gun in her hands.

  “Well, Darla, I don’t know you either. But your traveling companions, Dean and Ainsley, have already crawled into the back of our pickup truck. So, unless you imagine you’d like to stick around here for a bit longer, I’m thinking you’ll probably want to join us.”

  “Wait,” Lindsey said and she stepped forward. “Wait. Just wait.”

  Ray took a step inward and motioned for Darla to step out of the room.

  “I’m sorry, Lindsey,” Ray said.

  “But I wanted to go with you,” she said in a whisper. “Please?”

  Ray looked at Cricket and Lou, then back at Lindsey. “Sorry, Lindsey. We think it’s best that the entire Hales family just take some time to reevaluate. We’ll stop on by later to discuss it.”

  “Later?” Lindsey looked panicked.

  “You had a chance to make the right choice.” He bowed his head. “Lou. Cricket. Lyle’s downstairs. You folks…” he started, but then he didn’t finish his sentence. He just waved his hand and looked at them with a sad, disappointed glare. Then he walked back down the hallway where Darla was already waiting for him, slipped by the framed pictures and down the stairs.

  Right on his heels, Darla followed him out of the house and into the thick darkness of the country night. There were two trucks waiting for them—Dean sat in one and Ainsley sat in the other. Wordlessly, she climbed into the truck closest to her and sat down in the center of the bed. Ainsley was there with her back against the edge.

  Darla looked at the driver of her own truck; it was a woman, her hair tucked up into a baseball cap. A young man sat next to her, big and balding. In the bed of the other pick-up were two teenage girls, huddled together holding rifles.

  “Ray and Jillian and friends,” Ainsley offered with a weak smile.

  “Yeah,” Darla replied. “To our rescue.”

  “Everything okay up there? We heard shouting.”

  “Everything will be okay,” Darla said. Then she added, “For us, at least. Everything will be okay for us.”

  She looked back at the Hales’ house and she could see the silhouettes of Lou and Cricket in their upstairs bedroom; they had removed the coverings to watch their captives go. The truck engine roared and they started to roll down the long driveway. Then, Darla gasped. Lindsey was running after them: her arms flailing by her side, her feet slapping the pavement. She pumped her arms and tried to chase the fast moving truck with every ounce of energy she had left. And even as the truck rounded the corner and fell out of sight, Darla thought she could hear her calling for them to stop. Come back. Don’t go. Don’t leave me. Take me with you. I’m sorry. We’re so sorry.

  The truck maneuvered through the small neighborhood, back past the grocery store where they had tried to spend their first night, and then up to the highway. The farmhouse was long gone out of view before the truck slowed to a stop and pulled to the side of the road. The second truck sped up and stopped in the road. Ray threw the pick-up into park and slid out of the cab.

  Dean sat in the passenger seat. Unharmed and calm, he opened the door and walked over to them.

  “You okay?” he said. “You two okay? Oh man, oh man. Darla...your hand...”

  Darla looked down. A steady stream of blood trickled down her arm. She ignored Dean and wrapped the hand in her shirt, and then she got a better look at the man standing next to him—a tall cowboy-type with graying hair and a thin beard. Ray.

  “So, who are you?” she asked. “And what the hell just happened back there?”

  “That’s what happens when Lou Hales has some trouble living in the real world,” the man said. “Just stopping by for a little climate check tonight…and it seems like our timing was spot-on. We’ve been having some disagreements over his decision to keep you in the basement…but looks like you solved that issue on your own.” He winked at her. She didn’t crack a smile back.

  “You are the people we heard? The ones who visited the Hales? You got a place up in Montana?”

  The man nodded.

  “He didn’t attack me until he thought you were Sweepers. I had the keys.”

  “Sorry about that,” Ray said and he smiled. “But Lou keeps his car keys in a safe in the kitchen. Those are all decoys. Wouldn’t have made it very far.”

  “Lindsey set me up?” Darla asked and she didn’t feel as badly about the image of Lindsey running after the truck.

  “No, darlin’,” Ray replied. “Lou doesn’t even trust his own daughter not to make a run for it. I imagine she told you honestly what she thought.”

  Darla nodded. She looked down and closed her eyes.

  “Look, Lou told us he thinks you know something about the people who did this...the terrorists...”

  “Oh,” Darla sighed, her stomach sank and she felt ill-at-ease. Her eyes went to the young vigilantes in the other truck. Their vacant stares scared the shit out of her. “I see…so, this rescue is far from altruistic in nature? We don’t know anything…so, I’m sorry if you wasted your time. You wanna take us back now?” She couldn’t help the bite in her voice. Dean put his hand on her shoulder, but she shook him off.

  The man didn’t budge. He cleared his throat, “I won’t lie. I wished you did know something. But you have to understand...I got a good community growing and a lot of people to look out for. My intentions in asking you what you know are only because I want to protect the people who have asked me for protection,” he said. “If you say you don’t know anything, then I believe you. Either way, we’ll take you where you want to go. Or leave you be. The choice is yours.”

  Darla didn’t answer. She scanned the faces again. They all watched and waited intently.

  “The Hales, well, they found us you see,” the man continued. “Before the radios cut out. It’s not important, but you should know that they’ve been helpful to us. No doubt they’re paranoid. Lou’s not right in the head. He still thinks of his kids like they a
re twelve and not thirty, but they didn’t see us as a threat and they’ve been kind and generous. Even if they won’t leave their house and join us. He says it’s too risky to congregate.”

  “They might be right,” Darla said. She turned her attention to Ainsley, who was still huddled against the bed of the pick-up. The girl looked pale and sickly under the moonlight. She wondered how long it had been since she had eaten anything substantial. “So…why come to rescue us? If you don’t care about the information I possess and it could potentially risk your relationship with those people, then why?”

  “Look, that’s a pretty cynical world view…if you think that just because we’ve had a good relationship in the past we’re not able to overlook a wrong. It’s not right what they were doing. Not right to keep people like prisoners. I don’t care what the world has come to…right is right and wrong is wrong. We thought...”

  “You just do all that for strangers? I don’t buy it,” Darla replied. He already thought she was cynical, there was no use trying to prove him wrong. “You’re Ray and Jillian?”

  “I’m Ray. My wife Jillian,” he nodded to the woman in the cap. “That there is Liam. Survivor from Texas. And my daughters Alexus and Alia.” He paused. “Our intentions are good, Ma’am. We’re just doing what’s right. Not what’s easy or maybe even what’s sane. Just what’s right.”

  “Texas?” Darla looked at Liam. Liam nodded to her; he acknowledged her wayward glance.

  “People from all over. Canada, too,” Ray continued. “And we bet there are others. Maybe some like the Hales, paranoid and holed up. Maybe some like us, eager to rebuild.”

  “How many people you got in Montana?” Dean asked.

  “Fifty.”

  “That’s not many,” Darla said with a sigh. She had hoped for hundreds. Thousands. Fifty. That’s all that was left across the Western United States?

  Ray bowed his head. “Each of us thought we were the only ones left at some point. Fifty seems like plenty to us.” He paused. “Look...if you don’t know anything, that’s fine. But we’re fighting for our lives out there. Sweepers, sure. But also everything else. Little flu bug went through our place…little baby got really ill.”

  “You have babies up there in Montana?” Darla asked, her voice catching.

  “Two babies. And one was super sick for a long time. We don’t have a doctor, but we’ve been doing okay so far.”

  “I was going to be a nurse,” Ainsley added from the sidelines.

  Ray acknowledged her with a smile. “Well, we’d be happy to have you join us.” He turned back to Darla. “Look…if you do know something, I can’t tell you how glad we’d be to finally have some knowledge of what we’re up against here. We’d be happy to give you a place to stay, a meal, a place to clean up...”

  “No,” Darla said quickly. “No, thank you. I can’t even begin to tell you how fortunate we are that you were there to give us a lift and get us out of that house without incident. Whatever your intentions...” she trailed off. “We don’t want to seem ungrateful. But we have earned the right to be a bit suspicious.”

  “A meal. And a shower,” Ray said with a nod. “Then you’re on your way…no strings attached.”

  “I’m sorry,” Darla said again. “We don’t have time for that.”

  “There’s something more pressing you have to do?” His question was honest, genuine. He rapped his hand against the side of the truck and waited.

  “Can you give me and my friends a ride to Nebraska?”

  The request caused Ray to pause, and he looked back at his kids and then his wife. Jillian nodded. Liam leaned over and whispered in her ear, and she nodded again.

  “We’ll drop the kids and Liam back off at our community and then we’ll take you where you need to go. But...”

  Darla put up her hand. She knew where this was heading. His offer of no-strings had been too good to be true. “You want to know what’s in Nebraska. And what we know.”

  Ray nodded.

  With a look to Dean and then to Ainsley, Darla rubbed her eyes. “I just spent God knows how long in someone’s basement because I didn’t know if I could trust them. Why on earth should I trust you?”

  “That’s valid,” Ray replied. “Very valid. It’s been a rough time for you. Well, you have a drive to Montana to think about it. And your ride to Nebraska is free of charge. What I mean is, if you don’t feel like you can trust us after meeting everyone, then you don’t lose that extension of our hospitality. And if you think you can trust us, we’d be happy to keep your stories safe.”

  “Who are you?” Darla asked. “Why not demand I tell you...why not force me? Why any of this?” She motioned to the trucks, the silent spectators with guns.

  Ray nodded again. “Because we believe.”

  “Believe what?” Dean asked.

  “In goodness. In the capacity of the human heart to be kind. We believe that we’re here, alive, for a reason. In helping those who’ve lived through the biggest terror of our time...we’re not each other’s enemy, I believe that.”

  “Are you some kind of modern day Jesus, Ray? Prophet of Montana? Your little group some sort of cult?” Darla winced as a sudden pain from her hand shot up her arm. The adrenaline was wearing off; the damage might have been worse than she had originally suspected.

  Ainsley sighed from the truck bed. “Cult,” she repeated with authority. “Too nice. Like the Mormons.”

  The comment made Ray smile. “We’re not necessarily nice. And we’re definitely not a cult. We’re just people who are trying to make this work. Come on. You can ponder as we get going.” He tapped Jillian’s truck and waved her forward; she started to drive again, and pulled out in front and led the caravan down the dark and winding roads. Behind them, Ray got back into his car with Dean. They followed behind.

  Darla leaned back against the plastic truck bed and stared up at the stars. The trees passed by overhead in a steady rush. Ainsley nestled in against her. Normally, Darla would push Ainsley away, but it was nice to have some warmth and comfort tonight. Their sides touched and Ainsley turned her head.

  “Everything that happened back there…it just feels like a dream.”

  “Because of the drugs,” Darla answered.

  A moment later, Ainsley turned her head away. She stared above. “Are we really free?” she asked Darla.

  “I think so,” Darla answered.

  “Then why am I still scared?”

  “Because it’s dark outside,” Darla said. “And because a scary thing just happened to us. You’ll feel better in the morning.”

  “Promise?”

  “No.”

  Still staring at the stars and the moon, Darla put her good hand straight up into the air and felt the rush of wind around her fingers. She thought she saw the North Star, or maybe a planet, burning brighter than the others right above her. Then it slipped away out of sight. She closed her eyes and felt comforted by the engine’s constant hum and the steady sway of the truck.

  “Teddy,” she whispered to the sky. For the first time since they had left Portland, Darla felt like she was close to him. It wouldn’t be long. She imagined her words floating to him. “Teddy....Teddy...Mama’s coming. Stay strong little bug. Mama’s coming.”

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  Lucy couldn’t sleep. Grant’s letter, still in her bag and marooned in Cass’s apartment, remained unread, and with each growing hour of insomnia, her anger threatened to boil over. It wasn’t just the letter, because leaving her bag there was her own fault, but it was the whole murky relationship she witnessed in that brightly lit hallway that was getting under her skin. Ethan’s brooding combined with Cass’s secrecy about befriending her brother unsettled her and she felt herself growing anxious.

  If Grant were here, she wouldn’t feel so alone. Without him, Cass was her only friend and ally.

  If Cass had ever really been her ally.

  That thought ate her up inside
the most.

  As best friends go, Salem had been a lot of work. Dramatic and self-absorbed, sometimes Salem went entire conversations without stopping to listen to Lucy’s side. But Salem was honest and real. She never tried to be someone she wasn’t, and she didn’t keep secrets.

  When Lucy had stormed back into her new home on Kymberlin after she watched Ethan slip into Cass’s apartment, she found her parents cuddled on the couch looking out over the ocean. Her mother was in a fuzzy tan bathrobe, and she was sipping a hot drink. Her father sat behind her, and he rubbed his hands across her back in a way that made Lucy feel like she shouldn’t have interrupted. They were whispering, smiling, tangled up together. Lucy never knew if she should be happy that her parents still loved each other or disgusted that they weren’t shy about public displays of affection. Watching them nuzzle each other made her feel a mixture of both.

  Bowing her head, she walked briskly through the room, right past them.

  “You’re back,” Maxine said as Lucy crossed through her line of sight. “Your dad made a mean hot chocolate tonight. The little kids are down. Want to join us?” It was an invitation to crawl back into a different time, when evenings were spent over worn out board games, with warm drinks and salty snacks; when her mother offered them up extended bedtimes like a trophy.

  None of that held any power for her anymore.

  She declined and climbed the stairs into the loft and crawled into her new bed—a tan quilt, with teal pillows—and tried to sleep, fully clothed. Rest eluded her in waves. She’d doze for ten minutes, then startle awake, and then stare at the ceiling, wishing for reprieve. All night she listened for the door and for Ethan’s telltale footsteps, but one thing for was certain: Ethan never returned.

  Cass opened the door wide. She wore a soft pink tank top and with matching cotton pants and she held a cup of coffee. Her curtains were drawn tight, but still they were no match for the rising eastern sun which shone directly through her window wall. The whole place was light and yellow, hazy like a lemon-filtered dream.