Death Days: post-apocalyptic survival story (180 Days and Counting... Series Book 10)

by B. R. Paulson

  Wasn’t that logical? Didn’t that make sense?

  Bailey’s eyes widened, but she continued rocking Jessica slowly from side to side. What were they going to do?

  The men couldn’t get inside, as far as Bailey knew. But it wasn’t her house and she doubted Dusty and Elba had ever had a chance to test run a group of men determined to get at what was inside.

  The banging started up again, consistently growing louder and louder and more demanding. Bailey tried shutting it out as she rocked the calming baby. Each time a bang shattered the quiet, though, Bailey jumped which jostled Jessica. The baby started crying again, but less desperate and more with a tired bend to the tone.

  “I know. Sh. I understand. I feel it, too.” Bailey’s own strength was waning and she leaned forward to rest the slight weight of the baby on her upper thighs.

  Elba rushed to her side as multiple hands began banging on the door and the walls around the panel. She spoke under the barrage of sound. “We have a cellar you can get to from inside the pantry. If anything happens, you take Jessica and get down there.”

  “Let’s go now. All three of us.” Bailey shifted to the front of the couch, ready to escape to the cellar that Elba promised was safe. There would be protection from the cacophony of sound.

  Something sad darkened Elba’s eyes. She shook her head. “No, honey. It’s not big enough for two people. There’s… You’ll have to fit in there with Jessica.”

  Bailey shook her head, overwhelmed with the banging which had moved to the windows and parts of the walls. Her neck hurt and a headache had started. Was that a flush of heat from a fever? She wanted to lay down and take a nap, not hear that she was going to have to hide by herself with Jessica. She couldn’t do that again. Bad things happened when she was by herself.

  She licked her lips, flicking her gaze around the interior of the home. “Elba, can you hold Jessica?”

  Elba sank onto the couch beside Bailey, her brow furrowed. She reached for Jessica, unanswered questions in the line of her lips.

  Bailey pressed her hand to her forehead. “No, I can’t go into the cellar. I’m sick. I can’t guarantee that I’ll be well enough to take care of the baby or even that my mom will come back. Jessica needs someone who isn’t sick to watch over her. You go into the cellar. I’ll do what I can to protect the house.” Of course, she couldn’t get Jason’s death out of her mind – the last time she’d taken on the mantle of protecting the home and the baby. If she didn’t have to worry about Jessica or Elba getting hurt by her, then Bailey could maybe do what she needed to do – die without hurting anyone.

  Jason had scared the crud out of her and she didn’t want to go out like that.

  She couldn’t.

  Bailey blinked back her tears. After all she’d survived, she didn’t want to die.

  Elba leaned over, Jessica cradled in her arms. She placed her hand on Bailey’s shoulder. “No, we’ll stay out together. If it comes to it, we’ll see who is better equipped to go under.”

  Bailey had no doubt what her move would be. She wasn’t as strong as her mom. Being sick wasn’t a strength of hers. How would she ever be able to explain to her mom?

  If she ever saw her mom again.

  Chapter 10

  Margie

  Delusional. That’s what Margie would say about Scott, if anyone asked her. His mumbling rose and fell as his eyes closed. The view of him talking in a stupor wouldn’t leave her rearview mirror and Margie realized she didn’t have to watch him. She didn’t to keep glancing in the mirror.

  There was nothing behind them.

  There really was nothing ahead of them. The shadows of thick lush trees and a sparkling lake reflecting the moon couldn’t drown out the desolate feeling left behind. Abandoned. That’s how everything felt. Like it had been tossed aside and left there to rot on the side of the road, the flies to hover.

  Scott’s condition wasn’t getting better. In fact, Margie wasn’t sure what else she could do for him. His breathing hadn’t deepened and was even more ragged than before. As soon as they could, she would get him to a safe place and let him get some rest, maybe attempt to inspect him more. She’d only taken time to work on his leg before they’d all had to sleep for a bit.

  Moving around wasn’t good for his wound or his state of mind. But she couldn’t waste any more time than absolutely necessary.

  Stopping Cady before she got to The Gulch had taken on more importance. She wasn’t sure what the pressure was around her, but Margie could feel something in the air. Like tension when clouds moved in. Except there was no storm coming.

  “Is he going to be okay?” Ryker twisted back to face forward from watching Scott. Concern knit his brows together and he glanced at Margie. “I mean, I don’t know him or anything… it’s just.” He shrugged, obviously embarrassed but not enough to cut the conversation.

  Margie kept her voice low as she turned on the exit to get through Sandpoint. “Look, Ryker, you don’t know him. I don’t want you to get attached. If he dies…” She swallowed, and nodded jerkily. “If he doesn’t, then it will be a good thing, but he’ll be in pain and there will be a lot of things he’ll have to do and there will be even more for us to do.” She wasn’t concerned for herself. She could do it, but they weren’t safe and they wouldn’t be – not by the time he needed it.

  Sometimes you wished for death simply because of convenience and relief. Margie hated being the one doing the hoping.

  “What can we do to help him now?” Ryker folded his arms and stared out the window.

  “Well, if the bleeding doesn’t stop, we’ll see if we can find some cayenne pepper. That should help.” The seasoning was fairly common and there had to be enough empty houses along the route there that they could find some.

  Margie didn’t want to seem careless or like she didn’t have sympathy for Scott’s situation, but she had a daughter and a granddaughter headed toward a worse situation than she could define. She couldn’t wait for Scott to get better. She just couldn’t. As far as she was concerned, if Scott made it, then it was a bonus. If he didn’t… well, she’d have to apologize to Cady – when she was safe.

  Through the funnel-like beams of the headlights emerald green leaves fluttered to reveal their silver undersides as wind ruffled the branches of the aspens along the water’s edge. If Margie squinted, she could pretend everything was normal. She could unsee the lack of cars, the empty yards on a summer night, the deserted beach spots showcased by the moonlight. She could look past the silence of the roads as she drove down them.

  What she couldn’t unsee was the dumpsite with a parked truck she knew like it was her own. Cady’s rig. Had her daughter left it? Why was it sitting there, nestled between the dumpsters with no sign of life?

  Had she been robbed? Were they sleeping in the seats? Was that why they were nowhere in sight? Could it really be this simple?

  Cady would have guns. If she were anywhere around, she’d be armed to the gills and then some. Margie didn’t want to surprise her daughter. She’d most likely get shot at. She rumbled into place in front of the truck and looked around.

  Now what?

  Chapter 11

  Perry

  Dick was a jerk. Perry was sick of waiting for the lazy man to return with the other girl and news from the Parks’ place. Dusty Parks was a thorn in any man’s side but most especially in Perry’s. Dusty was a hard-core constitutionalist who didn’t let things slide. Didn’t Dick know Perry only allowed him to live out of sheer boredom?

  The whole thing was ridiculous. They should’ve killed Dusty and Elba the first go-round. But they hadn’t because of some misplaced respect for his veteran status.

  Not anymore. There was no United States of America anymore. There was no nothing. The only systems of due process and order rest in the hands of those willing to claim it. Plainly speaking – Perry had no problem getting his hands dirty.

  None.

  He stood off to the side of the clearing, only a few
feet from his tent, and watched as the new woman folded her arms across her chest and stared around her. She seemed to avoid looking at him and that annoyed Perry.

  Cady Moss was no one special. Perry remembered mildly flirting with her back when her parents had first moved into The Gulch. She’d been less uppity then. Guess she thought she was the princess of the apocalypse.

  Well, they all had their delusions to fight through. Perry’s was in thinking he’d be able to be a friend and a leader. Things didn’t work that way and he was fine with it.

  His new delusion involved his future filled with loneliness. He had to smash that one. He needed a woman who was both strong but submissive. He couldn’t teach strength, but he could beat submission into one.

  He continued studying Cady, her chunky hair framed her face that was just barely beginning to show signs of age with small crows’ feet wrinkling the corners of her eyes and lines along the sides of her mouth from smiling. She was a petite and attractive woman and the tilt to her head screamed derision. She had spunk as she made some comment to a man who whistled at her from across camp.

  Perry grinned. Yeah, he could take her and not share. That was the problem last time. He’d had to share because he was trying to fit into the group. But now, he was the leader and he didn’t have to follow the same guidelines as the others.

  He would give Cady a little more time with the others before he staked a claim on her. She usually had her daughter with her and when Dick came back with the girl, Perry could use her as a weapon to get complete docility from Cady. Dang, he might keep them both as his. He wasn’t above a little mother-daughter action. He’d have Cady’s agreement before the weekend was out when she saw her choices included his attentions or the men’s.

  Perry blinked from his thoughts as Ted sauntered toward Cady, arrogance in the swing of his step. He jerked his chin toward the woman and pointed toward the used and dirty pile of mattresses along the edge of the clearing. “You and me, now.” His words reached Perry easily.

  Clenching his jaw, Perry approached Ted with an unhurried amble. He spread his hands and smiled at the two of them. Cady with her derisive scowl and Ted who hadn’t yet looked toward him. “Ted, what’s the problem here?”

  Ted reached out and clenched Cady’s upper bicep with his arm, squeezing hard enough her shirt and flesh pressed out between his fingers. Cady didn’t even flinch. Ted snarled, facing Perry. “I found her. She’s mine first.” The challenge in Ted’s eyes was clear but behind the glint of confidence a shadow of fear lurked.

  Perry had no such qualms. He inclined his head and held an easy going tone and volume. “I want her.”

  The other men and women at the camp quieted, as if they, too, could feel the tension roiling through the trees.

  Ted laughed, his brow furrowing. “Well, you can have her when I’m done. Come on, Perry. These are your rules.” His laughter faded as he stared at Perry. After a moment of silence where Perry gave Ted an extra second, Ted jutted his chin out. “She’s mine, man.”

  Laughing and shaking his head, Perry reached behind him nonchalantly, pulling his pistol from the holster at the small of his back. “You know, Ted, it is my rule… but that doesn’t mean I have to follow it.” Perry lifted his gun and before Ted could react with more than widened eyes, Perry pulled the trigger, his hand jerking back from the recoil.

  Ted fell backwards, the hole in his forehead off to the left of the center. A collective gasp spread around the camp. Perry didn’t flinch or back down. He smirked, glancing at Cady and relishing in the sudden presence of fear and bewilderment in her gaze. “Didn’t see that comin’, did ya?” But was he speaking to her or to the entire group?

  He could feel it. They could all feel it. The power had completely shifted and Perry wasn’t ashamed to admit it was time, it was all coming together.

  Chapter 12

  Cady

  Perry had dropped Ted like he was a fly hovering around his food. A spark of crazy lit up the dark part of his gaze and Cady suppressed a shiver that he wanted her.

  Her.

  What had she done to deserve his special attentions? She refused to shift her gaze from his face, to take in the fear that spread throughout the inhabitants of the camp. No matter what, he couldn’t think he’d gotten to her. That would be giving him more power than he already head. That wasn’t an option. Not if she was to gain any traction with anyone else.

  She didn’t need him to fear her. No one did. But the other women needed to know freedom was possible, that standing up to him, to all of them, was possible and probable. And dare she hope – preferable?

  “Do you think you want to go collect your daughter for me? Or wait until I get her?” Perry leaned close and wagged his finger toward Cady. “My way probably isn’t what you want, in reality.” A darkly sinister twist to his lips sent a chill down Cady’s back, but she tamped it down, didn’t show it.

  She shrugged, irritation arching an eyebrow as she folded her arms and thrust her hip to the side. “I don’t care what you do. She’s not with me.” She waved her hand. “As you can see.” She ignored the presence of the dead body feet from where she stood. Looking at his sightless eyes would probably push her over the edge of nausea and she’d lose it, along with any credibility she might have gained.

  Perry nodded, his smirk bone chilling. “I know. She’s at the Parks’ place. No big deal. I have my best guys on it. They’ll drag her out and kill anyone else.”

  Cady refused to let him affect her. Dusty was out there, rallying people to come get her. She just knew it. Bailey was safer with Elba and that baby than she would be anywhere else. Cady had to believe that wholeheartedly or she’d lose her composure.

  She had to control her faith in something she couldn’t control. The lack of control was something she’d have to adapt to, something she’d have to accept. At least for the interim. At least until she could get more power back.

  For the moment, all she had control over were her own emotions, her own reactions. For the time being, that would have to be enough.

  “Do what you need to, Perry.” She rolled her eyes and folded her arms. “I’m still waiting for someone to offer me a drink.” She ignored the throbbing pain in her cheek from the random hits she’d been delivered as she’d been led to the camp.

  Evergreen trees surrounded the clearing with a spiky intention as if they too saw the happenings and weren’t impressed. Would they burn as easily with rain so close? Would a fire burn past the creek and get the Parks’ place? Cady wouldn’t be able to escape the flames, but it was a possibility. There were so many possibilities. Would the flames redirect and head toward her parents’ place?

  If Dusty couldn’t get to her, couldn’t help her escape… If Cady herself couldn’t convince the women to fight back… If… there were so many ifs. If they couldn’t do what was needed to be done, then Cady had to come up with a contingency plan. Something that would take care of the animals threatening her daughter.

  True, if she burned down the forest, she would have to cope with the very real possibility that her parents’ place would go, too. A lot of innocent people would die. But at that point, what else was new? What else was at stake?

  If she didn’t continue to put Bailey and her safety first, then everything else to that point would be in vain. She couldn’t have that on her conscience. She had to keep Bailey’s safety first – even over her own interests.

  She could do that.

  “You look lost in thought. Is camp life already getting to you?” Perry stepped to stand beside her, tucking his gun into his waistband. The odor of cologne mixed with unwashed flesh assailed her nostrils and Cady fought back the gag working its way up the back of her throat.

  If nothing else, killing them would be a favor.

  “I’m thinking of how you should die for kidnapping me and threatening my daughter.” She smiled sweetly and looked directly at him, holding his gaze as he studied her.

  After a moment of silence, where
so much passed between them, Perry’s smirk broadened to a full on grin and he threw back his head and laughed, humor rich in the barking sound. He calmed down, wiping at his eyes and motioning toward the rest of camp. “You’re funny.” He lowered his voice and shifted on his feet to angle himself closer to Cady, his smile never shifting. “You have no idea what you’re walking into. You have no idea how much fun you and I are going to have. With your mouth…” His gaze shifted toward Cady’s lips and then he raised his eyes. “You’ll watch it sooner rather than later.” He chuckled, then reached out and grasped her by the back of the neck.

  Bending her forward, he forced her to walk at a bent-over, half-crouched position, flinching from the tight grip beneath her skull.

  Cady did everything she could to not fight, to not struggle. Men like Perry thrived on the fight, the display of power. He had probably been a rapist for a long time. Cady had no idea how long he’d been a killer.

  As she stumbled over the rocky terrain beside Perry, she acknowledged the fact that she needed a plan to get out. More than just a passing confidence that she could rally the troops.

  Before she cold process that Perry was stopping, Cady tripped on his extended foot and he thrust her onto the dirty ground in the midst of a group of about fifteen to twenty scantily clad women.

  Cady landed with an oomph, but didn’t voice her discomfort. She rolled quickly to her rear and leaned on her hands as she drew her knees up closer to her chest.

  Perry knelt, his hands folded and hanging easily between his bent knees. He spoke conspiratorially, ignoring the rest of the women who shied away from his attentions, avoiding his gaze. “Get some sleep, Cady. Because the fun starts in a few hours and I’d hate for you to miss any of it.”

  A couple of the women whimpered and Perry stood, strolling off and waving his arms. “I want this body taken care of. Somebody get me news on Dick.” People scattered and scurried to do his bidding.