Tainted Cure (The Rememdium Series Book 1)

by Ashley Fontainne

  Hot Spring County jail was large considering the minimal population of the county, yet small in terms of actual size. It could only house up to a maximum of fifty inmates. Since she knew the layout, she took the lead. When they arrived at the first set of locked doors, Regina’s heart sank.

  Three armed guards and two Hot Spring County deputies blocked their way. They sat around the desk housing the controls to the bars on the other side. Regina kept her head down and prayed Deputies Jackson Allsop and Mike Bailey didn’t recognize her. Considering the side of her head was bandaged and she wasn’t wearing her uniform, she hoped they didn’t.

  The guard sitting closest to them said, “We ain’t got room for more.”

  “Not our problem. Sergeant Russell gave orders for us to bring them here,” Reed said.

  Though doubtful anyone else heard the fear in her brother’s voice, Regina did. She could tell he was thinking the same thing she was: if there wasn’t any more room, what were they doing with the sick?

  “I don’t care what the Sarge said, we are full up! Besides, we take our orders from Lt. Pack, and he said to take any new arrivals out back and terminate them.”

  “What? We’re just goin’ to kill them in cold blood?” Martha gasped.

  “Better them than us, right? We’re under Martial Law now. Y’all arrived just in time. We were just givin’ orders to take the ones already inside out back. We’ll need the extra help gettin’ them outside and burnin’ the bodies.”

  Regina couldn’t take any more. She looked up and straight into the faces of Allsop and Bailey. They looked terrified yet unwilling to attempt a coup on their own. Considering they were outnumbered, she couldn’t really blame them. She hoped that was really the case and that the men she’d known for years hadn’t turned into cold-hearted monsters so quickly.

  Seconds ago, she hoped they wouldn’t recognize her, but that had changed.

  Searching their faces for any signs of recognition, she was greeted by blank stares. Unwilling to let them know she wasn’t really handcuffed, Regina remained still and spoke directly to Allsop and Bailey. “My daughter’s in there, sick like me. Please, let us be together when you kill us. I don’t want to turn into one of those things, and I know Jesse doesn’t want that either. Just allow us to hold each other one last time?”

  The silence inside the jail was eerie. Five sets of eyes stared at her, three full of hatred and anger. The two sets she hoped to reach filled with pity, sadness, and then recognition.

  Regina saw a spark of hope appear on Allsop’s face. Allsop gave a slight nod of his head and reached down and pushed the button unlocking the bars.

  “What are you doin’ you fool?”

  On cue, Allsop, Bailey, Reed, and Martha turned their weapons on the three soldiers. The three men froze. Regina burst through the open door first and grabbed the automatic rifle of the one nearest her. The look on his face when she snatched it up would have been comical under different circumstances.

  “Sorry, Chief. Didn’t recognize you for a second,” Deputy Allsop said. “You okay?”

  Regina nodded. “Don’t worry, boys. I ain’t sick. Neither is Jesse. We’re here to get her out, that’s all. What cell number is she in?”

  Deputy Bailey answered, “Seventeen, Block B. Don’t worry, none, Chief. I’ve known that girl since she was a baby. Could tell she was just havin’ one of her allergy attacks. I made sure they put her in a cell by herself.”

  “Bailey, you’re a gem. Now, let’s get these boys here secured. Make sure to take their radios. Don’t need anybody callin’ for backup while we break my kid out of jail.”

  “Gladly,” Martha said. In a flash, she handcuffed all three soldiers, arms behind their backs.

  “You’ll pay for this once Lt. Pack hears what you’ve done.”

  “That may be true later, but not right now,” Regina said. She stared into the eyes of the man who’d been talking to them earlier. “You mentioned we are under Martial Law, right?”

  “Yep, so when I’m able, I’m gonna kick your ass.”

  Regina smashed the butt of the rifle into the bastard’s nose. The sound of cartilage and bone crunching filled the small area. Blood shot from the soldier’s nose while his body tumbled backward out of the chair.

  “Any of you other heartless fuckers have anythin’ to say?” The other two men shook their heads. “Good, because I’m done playin’ nice with the military.”

  Reed stepped forward and motioned for the two men to get on the ground. “Sis, go get Jesse. Martha and I will make sure these boys stay right here.”

  Deputy Bailey pushed a button on the console and the metal door slid back. Allsop yanked a set of keys from the limp body of the soldier with the broken nose. “I’ll be takin’ my keys back now. Bastard.”

  With Regina leading the way, Turner, Allsop, and Bailey flanking her, they stepped through the entryway and headed into the center of the jail. They only made it three steps when the sounds of mewing and groans hit them, coming from the cells up ahead.

  “What the hell is that noise? And that smell?” Deputy Allsop asked.

  “That would be from those who’ve turned. You know, dead people who smell your blood or hear us. God, doesn’t sound right. The dead smellin’ and hearin’.” Regina answered, rifle steady, eyes focused in front of her. “Stay in the middle of the aisle, away from the bars. They are strong, hungry, and determined.”

  “Holy God, what a nightmare,” Deputy Bailey said.

  “Keep movin’. Almost to Block B,” Regina urged.

  Ignoring the rising noise from former residents of Hot Spring County as they grunted and clanged on the bars of the cells, Regina stopped and let Allsop move ahead.

  When he reached out and inserted the key to unlock the door, the sound of Jesse’s screams sent waves of terror inside Regina’s heart.

  “Open that fucking door!” she yelled.

  Allsop swung the door open, and the group let out a collective gasp when they came face to face with what used to be Sheriff Roger Calhoun.

  Jesse Parker rubbed her shoulders and paced around the small cell to keep warm. She wished she had real clothes on. There wasn’t time to change when the soldiers forced them from the house, and all she had on was her thin pajamas and slippers.

  She hadn’t been inside a jail since Fayetteville. Being trapped in the confined space was a nightmare on its own. It took her back to a time in her life she never wanted to revisit. With the added stress of everything else going on, it was too much for her mind to grasp.

  Jesse had tried to keep from having a panic attack during the last two hours. Terror and adrenaline took over her thoughts after seeing Stephen Sikes gunned down like an animal. Then, when she saw the amount of dead people converge onto the streets of Rockport, she’d gone numb. After Uncle Reed drove the Humvee away then left to go find her mom, Jesse clung to Turner for support. Being near Turner helped keep her from flipping out.

  Then, things went from bad to worse. People ran screaming from the onslaught of the dead and gunfire. She tried to keep Uncle Reed in her sights, but lost him in the crowd. She had started crying again, overcome with worry she wouldn’t see her mom or uncle again.

  Though time seemed to have stood still, Jesse guessed it was about three minutes later when Uncle Reed burst through the crowd, her mother’s limp body slung over his shoulder. Jesse had scrambled to unlock the back door to let him in. The second Uncle Reed set her mother in the back seat, her face covered in blood, two soldiers rushed the Humvee. One of them grabbed Uncle Reed’s collar and smashed his face into the door frame. Before Jesse had time to grasp what was happening, the other soldier stuck his weapon in Turner’s face, forcing him to move. In minutes, they were at the high school.

  Uncle Reed and Turner carried her unconscious mother inside and a female soldier dressed her wound. Then Jesse started sneezing again and two men grabbed her. Turner tried to stop them, but was forced to remain seated by two other armed guards.
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  The soldiers took Jesse to the end of a long line of lunch tables. A female soldier drew her blood and deposited a few droplets in a vial full of clear liquid. Jesse told them she felt fine and was just suffering from an allergy attack. They didn’t believe her and dragged her, kicking and screaming, from the gym.

  On the ride to the jail, Jesse was terrified. She didn’t know what would happen to her mom, Uncle Reed, or Turner. Even the constant fear when on the streets, so strung out she didn’t care what she had to do to survive long enough to get more money for another hit, paled in comparison to what was happening now.

  The soldiers dumped her in the last cell and left without saying a word. She had recognized two Hot Spring County deputies stationed at the front. She begged them to vouch for her, but they never said a word. When they escorted her down the hall, she nearly fainted. The cells were full of men and women, some crying, others begging to be released. She recognized some of the faces but not all. Every one of them looked sick. Several were coughing, others sitting on the floor, unmoving, eyes focused on the ground.

  Jesse felt the walls close in around her. She hated being closed in. The building blocked out most of the sounds of the world ending outside, but the noises replacing it from the inside made her head spin. The crying and begging for help ceased ten minutes earlier. Now, the only thing she could hear was weird, gurgling and grunting. The eerie noises made her mind snap. She felt the heat spread from her chest up into her neck. Her breath came in short bursts.

  A full-blown panic attack was on the verge of consuming her. For the first time in two years, Jesse wished she was high.

  “Hey, honey, you okay?”

  Jesse stopped pacing and turned to the front. Inside the cell across the aisle, she saw three women. None of them looked familiar, but Jesse didn’t care.

  “No…havin’…a…panic…attack.” Jesse stuttered.

  A lady close to her mom’s age with a warm, inviting face smiled. “My mom used to have them all the time. Said the trick to stoppin’ one was to concentrate on a spot on the floor or ceilin’.”

  The young girl next to her reached into her bra and pulled out a baggie. “This has always worked for me. Keeps my head straight when things go to shit. And boy, did they ever.”

  Jesse’s eyes widened as she watched the girl tap out a line of white powder on the back of her other hand. She didn’t have time to figure out if it was coke or meth because the girl leaned her head down and snorted it up.

  “What are you doin’, Eileen! Are you crazy? You brought drugs in here? Shit! What if someone sees you?”

  “I don’t think those goons out there give a fuck if I’m high, Aunt Carrie. They’re too concerned on killin’ people, or haven’t you noticed? If this is the end of the line for me, which I’m pretty sure it is for all of us, I’m goin’ out on a high note. Literally.”

  “We aren’t gonna die! We ain’t sick, Eileen. They’ll realize that soon enough and let us go. You watch and see.”

  Eileen’s laugh was bitter. “Grow up, Susie. You don’t really think they’ll come back for us, do you?”

  “Enough, you two. We need to stay positive. Besides, we’re safe in here from all the mess goin’ on outside,” Carrie admonished.

  Seeing her own personal demon less than ten feet away, and watching another person get high, the temptation was too much for Jesse. Unable to really form words, she patted the bars. The girl looked over and smiled. “You want?”

  Jesse nodded, and the girl closed the baggie and tossed it across the aisle. Without thinking, Jesse opened the baggie and tried to tap some out. Her shaking fingers wouldn’t cooperate.

  “No, honey, you don’t need that to calm down! Another thing that works is listenin’ to someone’s voice talk you down. Ain’t nothin’ nice to look at in this hellhole so just focus on the sound of my voice. Put that poison down, okay?” Carrie said.

  Unable to speak, Jesse nodded. The woman started to sing Amazing Grace. Though off-key, Jesse didn’t care. She closed her eyes and sang along inside her head, the words memorized from years of attending Sunday school.

  For a few seconds, the craving to snort up what was in her hands abated.

  As the kind woman neared the end of the first chorus, Eileen and Susie joined in.

  “I once was lost, but now I’m found. Was blind, but now I see…”

  Jesse’s breathing returned to normal at the soothing words of the song. She opened her eyes and noticed the trio had joined hands, their eyes closed as they swayed back and forth.

  The baggie called out to Jesse.

  They aren’t watching. Go ahead! You’ll be better prepared to handle things when all your nerves are on heightened alert. Besides, you’ll probably need the extra burst of energy to stay awake.

  The demon in her hands won the battle. Jesse opened the baggie and stuck her nose inside. Judging from the smell, she knew immediately it was cocaine and not meth, but at the moment, she didn’t care. Just as she started to snort up the contents, a booming voice from the aisle stopped her.

  “Give it a rest, will you? Y’all sound like a bunch of howler monkeys.”

  Jesse freaked when she saw Sheriff Calhoun coming down the aisle. She’d always hated the man, and not just because he’d arrested her once. With nowhere to hide the plastic bag, she shoved it into her mouth and swallowed, nearly choking.

  He was a stereotypical southern cop in every sense of the word. Loud, brash, cocky, and full of himself. His large belly stretched the material of his uniform to its limits. His gut was so big you couldn’t see his belt. He had a fat, round face and the meanest eyes of anyone Jesse had ever met.

  Today, he looked even worse. Sweat stained the front and sides of his shirt. Droplets of water glistened on his forehead under the fluorescent lights in the ceiling. His cheeks were flushed red and his eyes glazed over. Even though he was several feet away, Jesse could tell he had a fever.

  Jesus, is he infected, or simply has a cold? How is anyone supposed to tell anymore? No wonder the soldiers brought me here. They didn’t know for sure, either.

  “Sheriff, we were just tryin’ to help calm the poor girl down. She’s scared to…”

  Sheriff Calhoun stopped in front of the cell housing the three women. He grumbled, “I don’t give a shit! I said stop your caterwaulin’! My head is already poundin’!”

  “You ain’t got no right to hold us in here, Sheriff! We done told y’all we all just got over the flu! We ain’t infected! And you can’t stop us from singin!’” Eileen said, glaring at the Sheriff.

  Sheriff Calhoun didn’t answer the girl’s outburst. He turned and focused his attention on Jesse.

  His eyes were bloodshot, his face now the same ugly, gray color as the concrete floor of the jail. A thin dribble of saliva slid from his open mouth. Jesse could see the veins under his skin darken, almost like an invisible hand holding a blue marker drew them on. His mouth opened and closed like he was talking, but no sound accompanied the movement.

  This isn’t happening!

  The women across from Jesse continued to speak, but their words seemed muffled and distant.

  The Sheriff’s entire body jerked and Jesse noticed a chunk of flesh missing from his hand. When she brought her gaze back to his face, his eyes were solid black.

  Jesse moved away from the bars and didn’t stop until her back hit the wall.

  Sheriff Calhoun spun around and lunged at the women in the cell. His sudden movements caught them off guard, and the nice lady with the sweet face named Carrie didn’t have time to move away from the bars. His arm shot out and grabbed a handful of her long, brown hair. Yanking her forward, her face slammed into the bars. Blood spurted from her lips and nose from the impact.

  A weird grumble left the Sheriff’s mouth as he shot his head forward and tore off chunks of Carrie’s protruding lips and nose from in between the bars. Jesse heard the women scream in terror.

  Unable to help, trapped inside a cage as the next victi
m, Jesse couldn’t believe what she was witnessing.

  For a few seconds, Jesse’s mind gridlocked. She regained her faculties when the thing that had once been human only seconds before, tore the arm off at the elbow of the lady with the horrible singing voice. It then shuffled down the hall, crouched down on the floor next to the door, and began to eat.

  Jesse’s stomach revolted and she puked. After vomiting, she opened her mouth and screamed at the top of her lungs for help, knowing it wouldn’t do any damned good.

  DISCOVERING THE TRUTH - Saturday - December 20th – 9:45 a.m.

  Everett’s thigh muscles throbbed and his calves burned. He hadn’t walked so far in years, and in the current conditions, the trek through the woods added to the difficulty level. He was breathing hard and the cold rain made his bones ache.

  “Do we need to stop and let you catch your breath?” Dirk Kincanon asked.

  “No. I’m fine. Maybe just slow down a bit? This incline is taking its toll on my legs.”

  Dirk snapped his fingers to get the attention of the six others walking in front of them. They all stopped and pointed to a fallen tree behind him. “We’ve got time to rest, Dr. Berning. No one is out here except us.”

  Everett stepped over to the downed tree and sat. His mind hated the idea of remaining out in the open, yet his body was grateful for a moment to rest. “How much farther do we have?”

  Dirk sat next to him and handed Everett a bottle of water. Everett twisted off the cap and took several gulps.

  “About half-a-mile.”

  Everett looked over at the men. They were about twenty feet away, silent, each fully armed and scanning the wet, quiet woods. One of them held a walkie-talkie to his ear, and the look of worry on his face made Everett’s own fears increase.

  These were hardened, former soldiers—ones used to witnessing deplorable conditions—and even they were scared.

  Everett chuckled softly and shook his head.