Too Late

by B. R. Paulson

  With all of the baby supplies in the trailer, Cady couldn’t just jump on the four-wheeler and thunder off fast enough to get away. Plus, her friend’s home was being ransacked by an intruder. Where would Scott stay, if he came home to find everything ruined? If he got sick, he wouldn’t have the strength to put everything back together.

  Bailey glared but retreated quietly to the coop, ducking inside and closing the door while Cady watched. She turned and peered at Cady with her eyes wide and the rest of her body tucked into the corner.

  Cady nodded slowly. Okay, now she had to figure out what she was doing. How much excitement could she pack into one day? How many people would she be forced to kill? No, it wasn’t an option this time. She couldn’t… well, she wouldn’t say couldn’t. If Bailey was in danger or she was herself, fine, but heading toward the situation with the goal of killing someone wasn’t going to help with her conscience.

  Stepping cautiously across the concrete drive, Cady reached carefully for her gun and pulled it out to clench the butt with shaking fingers. Cady had already shot and killed someone that morning. Would she be able to do it again? The image of Kent twitching on the ground after she’d killed him flashed in her mind. Her lower lip quivered and she worked on taking one breath at a time. Each step took more effort than it should’ve.

  Around the garage and then across the short distance to the front porch, Cady stopped at the sight of the shattered glass spread across the covered deck and the front door left open like a gaping wound.

  Cady swallowed, her throat tight with nerves. She slowed down, stepping with more intent as she crept closer. Thankfully, Scott’s home was fairly open on the lower level, but until she got inside, everything was out of sight.

  A familiar voice muttered, “Where is it? I know he has some.” But the words were slightly slurred, like there was more than just alcohol onboard.

  Cady entered the front door, stepping over the largest collection of busted glass before going deeper into the home. With the open layout, Cady scanned his house easier than if there’d been multiple walls and rooms to inspect. His bedrooms were on the second floor.

  The sounds carried from the kitchen and Cady got closer, finally placing the voice as Rachel’s, the neighbor between Scott and Cady’s plots. Cady jerked back, lowering her gun a bit as she tried to place just what was going on.

  Rachel was a friend and very nice. She had a collection of children and usually went to visit her parents in the south somewhere over the winter. She’d been gone a while.

  Cady lowered her gun to her side and placed her hand on the banister of the half-wall between the living room and kitchen. She blinked rapidly as she took in the scene on the floor.

  Rachel sat on the linoleum in the front of the fridge, her legs splayed in front of her. Her lap was covered in jars and packages. She scooped a fingerful of jelly into her mouth as she reached into a crisper drawer to pull out lettuce which she tossed over her shoulder.

  Cady leaned forward, narrowing her gaze. “Rachel, what are you doing?” Rachel’s normally well-kept hair flowed down her back in a ratty mess.

  Rachel’s reaction was slow but concise. She stopped what she was doing and turned. Her long hair fell across a shoulder and she blinked in the dim interior. The fridge backlit Rachel’s form and Cady couldn’t see her expression in detail, just the light from the window as it reflected in a flash in her eyes.

  “Cady… I wasn’t expecting you. You shouldn’t sneak up on people. It’s rude.” She ground out the words like Cady was a child to be scolded by a mother.

  Cady nodded, stepping back a bit. Her gut twisted. Something wasn’t right, and as usual she could sense it. What she wouldn’t give to go back and find a point in time where things were normal, before all the chaos that Jackson had let out on the world.

  Clearing her throat, Cady smiled in an attempt to disarm Rachel, make her feel comfortable. “Sorry to startle you. What are you doing in here? Did you break the window?” Cady watched as Rachel rolled to all fours and then stood, her movements jerky and lopsided, similar to Kent’s but with a lazy flop at the end, like she wasn’t sure if letting her arm rest at her side was actually what she wanted to do.

  Rachel stood completely and shook her hair back, her hands staying at her side. “I couldn’t get in. Scott locked his door.” She thrust a hand half-heartedly on her hip. “Can you believe that?”

  As Rachel advanced, Cady backed up, heading toward the door and the meager light outside which was more than what was inside Scott’s house.

  “This isn’t your house. Why did you need to get in?” Cady felt like she was talking to a three-year-old, trying to pry every necessary detail from the woman.

  “I’m hungry. The kids are all dead. I fed them everything we had. I…” She stopped talking but continued following Cady outside. The sickly, sweet scent of cannabis mixed with the acidic aroma of whiskey came off Rachel in waves, pushing Cady back further.

  Grimacing, Cady scanned Rachel for signs of injury, wincing as her neighbor came more into the light. Her face was covered with the pox, some beginning to weep and others looking about to burst. A cluster had almost completely closed her right eye and she licked her rashy lips with a small tongue.

  The drug and alcohol could explain the numbness in her voice.

  Cady shook her head, coming to a stop on the grass. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Rachel. That had to be awful. Is there anything I can do?” The trauma that Rachel had to undergo was mind-boggling. How could she survive that? Cady was so worried about Bailey’s vaccine working, she’d forgotten to be grateful that she’d even had the opportunity to take a vaccine.

  Rachel laughed, a tear working its way from her open eye. She stopped advancing when Cady quit moving. She half-turned back to the protection of the porch, staying under the covering as if the air hurt her skin.

  Cady wouldn’t be surprised, if it did.

  She’d exposed herself to Rachel’s germs. She hadn’t been thinking. If the virus was air born, she’d have it. There was no getting around being inside an enclosed environment. The germs would have filled the room.

  Rachel didn’t stop chuckling. She avoided touching her face, shaking her head as she lowered herself to the steps of the porch. “Nothing. There is nothing you can do. I tried that ‘Cure’ on the kids. It didn’t work. They felt good for a little bit. Oh, Cady,” She twisted her lips to the side. “You should’ve seen them. They were smiling for the first time in what felt like forever, but was… just a few days. Days.” She looked down at her hands. Her one eye had the look of being haunted. She shook her head and her shoulders slumped forward. “But then…”

  Cady nodded, choking back her own tears. She could only imagine what had happened next. There was no doubt in her mind that Kent had used the Cure and he’d gone insane. “Rachel, did you use the Cure? Or touch it?” Was Rachel in danger of going the way her children had?

  “I used gloves. My symptoms weren’t bad enough to waste the Cure on me. I used it all on them. I didn’t want to live, if they…” She sniffed, her tears coming faster, and she moaned. The sound came from deep in her gut, like her soul keened for her loss.

  “What can I do?” Cady’s whispered plea seemed to fall on deaf ears until Rachel pushed herself up from the steps. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a gun. “Can you… would you kill me? Would you do that for me?” She didn’t step closer to Cady, as if she knew her actions were very threatening. She reached up and rubbed at her nose, breaking open a few sores on her face and releasing their contents to smear across her skin.

  Cady swallowed back the nausea creeping up her throat. She couldn’t say she was sickened by the sight of the pox bursting open or that Rachel had asked to be killed. The combination of the two was a sobering combination. “Where did you get that?” The weapon looked like one of Scott’s standbys.

  A sob tore from Rachel and she lifted the gun and waved it in the air. “I found this in his nightstand. I lo
oked all over for him, but he was gone… I even loaded it, Cady. He was supposed to be here. He could have done it. He could have shot me as I walked away. I… but you’re here. You can help me. I don’t want to be abandoned by my church.” She cried openly, her pain evidently tearing her apart.

  Cady’s eyes widened. Rachel was Catholic. She remembered attending Mass with her neighbor once a while back. She nodded, but didn’t back down. “Rachel. I don’t want to kill you. I understand why you want to die. I do. But there has to be another way out of this. You have to be able to fix this.”

  Of course, Rachel didn’t want to live anymore. She’d watched her children die and was in more pain than Cady could imagine. Cady would want to die, too. It wouldn’t be hard for Cady to think up just how scared and alone Rachel had to be feeling.

  Rachel stared at the ground. “I don’t want to try anymore. I… Please, Cady, please, do this for me. Please. I forgive you in advance… I can’t keep living like this. I need… please.” Her face contorted, her features pinkening and whitening in spots as she moved her mouth and cheeks.

  Cady sobbed, unable to fight Rachel’s desperation, but unable to kill her. “I… please. I can’t, Rachel. I…” How did she tell her friend that she’d already killed Kent because he’d tried hurting her? She couldn’t say that. She couldn’t give Rachel any ideas.

  Rachel wouldn’t kill herself. If Cady didn’t do it, then Rachel would be forced to try to live, to try to keep going.

  With a shaky voice, Rachel said, “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right.” She nodded in a jerky motion, her hair moving. “I just…” In the next second, she lifted the gun, pressed it to her temple and squeezed the trigger.

  Cady jolted forward and then back at the sound of the gun. Blood and bits splattered toward her.

  She coughed slowly in disbelief. Her sobs and tears came with a slow resignation. Almost as if dragged down by a weight tied to her neck, Cady sank to her knees, her shoulders shaking.

  Was that how she would have to go out? Was that what she had to look forward to? She stared at Rachel’s lifeless body. How had a woman like Rachel earned the ending she’d gotten? She hadn’t. That was the sad truth of the matter.

  That was the future Cady deserved. Nothing less.

  Chapter 7

  Scott

  Yards from pulling into the driveway to his place, Scott reached across and patted Jason’s arm. He slowed his maniacal speed, abashed that he’d driven like the van still chased them all the way up US95 and through the town of Athol.

  He’d ignored the red fliers fluttering from people’s doorknobs. He assumed he didn’t want to know. They matched the other fliers they’d seen in Coeur d’Alene, Hayden, and the other towns they’d passed through to get home.

  Scott just wanted to get to the comfort of his house. The relative safety of it. He knew where everything was. He knew what to expect. The weaknesses and the strengths were all second-nature to him. Getting back there before he got too sick was all that mattered.

  His eyes were itchy and his throat hurt. He couldn’t tell if his aches were because he was fighting the emotional torrent he’d been under since he’d found out about the virus, or if he was getting sick. He glanced at Jason, whose skin was clear and rash free, but whose eyes were red-rimmed. He continually sniffed, like he too was affected by having to abandon Ranger.

  That’s what Scott would hold onto. He wasn’t sure he could survive the torrential despair of losing another person to the virus would be. Jason and Jessica were all he had left and he couldn’t fail his mom by losing them to the disease.

  A gun shot split through the sound of the Bronco’s RPMs.

  Scott didn’t slow down as he turned into his driveway. He barely put it into neutral as he jumped from the rig at the sight of Cady slumping to a kneeling position on his lawn.

  “Cady!” He stopped and turned back to Jason, keeping his voice low. “Get the baby and go hide in the coop. Don’t ask questions. It’s the safest place right now. I’ll come and get you when I know it’s safe.” Scott didn’t wait for Jason to agree. The boy was smart and didn’t seem to question Scott’s suggestions. As well he shouldn’t, since Scott was charged with making sure his niece and nephew stayed alive.

  Jason slipped from the cab, carrying the small baby who continued to sleep with a full belly and a clean diaper he’d been careful to take care of as they’d approached Scott’s place. Scott watched him disappear around the side of the house, nervous for the next few minutes.

  Was Cady dead? Scott approached her slowly from the side of the garage. She stayed in a kneeling position, a gun in her hands. Had she killed herself? He’d just talked to her on the phone that morning. She hadn’t sounded desperate enough to take her own life. Why would she do that?

  He searched her for a clue to what had happened.

  Staring at something in front of her, Cady’s chest barely rose and fell as she breathed. She was alive. Scott’s relief allowed him to try to take in more of the scene.

  Specks of blood had landed on Cady’s face, shirt, and hands. She hadn’t been hit. The blood wasn’t hers.

  Scott strode the final steps to crouch beside her. He reached up, feeling for a pulse, but he really just wanted to touch her and make sure she was alive and real. Over the last few days, Scott hadn’t believed he would make it home, let alone see Cady again. There he was and it was almost more than he could bear.

  She didn’t even look at him, just stared straight ahead at something. When he touched her, she didn’t flinch or acknowledge him. Her gaze was resolute.

  Scott turned, closing his eyes at the sight of their neighbor, Rachel, lying dead on the grass. The virus had disfigured her quiet beauty. Something truly horrific had to have forced her to kill herself. The circumstances most likely surrounded her children. She would do anything for them. To kill herself would never be an option, unless they were gone.

  The death of more children brought Scott’s sins to the forefront of his mind and closed his eyes tightly to push them away. His sanity relied on dwelling on something besides his loss, his actions, the world’s disasters.

  Gathering his control around him like an emotional armor, Scott took a deep breath and let it out. Turning back to Cady, he reached out and brushed her hair from her face. “Cady, look at me. Cady.” He waited for a moment and she finally looked at him, her eyes hopeless as she worked to focus on him.

  After a moment, realization crossed her features and she reached out, clutching his shirt in shaking hands. “Scott…” She shook her head, her eyes flicking to the side as she tried to take in the image again, but she redirected, looking at Scott’s face as if she were starving for a sign of life. “You’re here. You made it. I…” Cady licked her lips, her eyes unable to focus. “Rachel… she broke into your house. She’s infected.” Blinking rapidly, Cady took a deep breath.

  “It’s okay. It’s alright. She’s gone. Did she…” Scott didn’t know how to ask Cady how close she’d been to having to put down another one of their neighbors. He hadn’t really dealt with the fact that she’d killed Kent, just like he hadn’t been able to process the fact that he’d killed all those children and that nurse in the hospital. There was a lot of desperate acts being made and Scott wasn’t sure just what he could hold himself accountable for anymore.

  “I’m glad you’re back.” She swallowed, the sincerity in her tone warming him. She waved her hand in the general direction of the garage. “I brought your stuff. I did good not getting exposed, until…” She jerked her chin over Scott’s shoulder but kept her focus on his face. “Now that I’m for sure exposed, Scott, how will I keep Bailey safe now?”

  “Bailey hasn’t been exposed yet?” He nodded, the urgency to keep Cady’s daughter free from the virus apparent. “Okay, we’ll steer clear. I don’t want her getting sick, if we can help it. I’ll let Jason know.” He hadn’t realized that Bailey had been protected that long. Cady had done well.

  Cady looked a
round, craning her neck to see inside his Bronco. “Where’s your nephew and niece? It’ll be hard to keep Bailey away from the baby.” She sideways grinned at him, careful not to wipe blood on him as she moved to a kneeling position.

  “I sent them to the coop at the sound of the gunshot. It’s the safest place since it has a backdoor that opens into the forest. He can run out, if he needs to.” Scott furrowed his brow at the panicked pallor draining Cady’s face of color. “What’s wrong?” He reached out to steady her in case she passed out.

  “No, that’s where I sent Bailey.” Cady jumped to her feet, clutching her neck and smearing Rachel’s blood across her skin. She raised her voice, her eyes wide with dread. “What have you done?”

  Scott hadn’t thought things could get worse, but every second seemed to bring new pain.

  Chapter 8