Divided We Stand (What's Left of My World Book 4)

by C. A. Rudolph

  Grace checked her AR’s safety and let it drape to her side. Folding her arms, she shifted her weight to her left heel. “I think Sarah has been coming around…if you know what I mean. At least that’s what I’ve been hearing.”

  John nodded, still staring off into the distance through the trees. “That’s good. Lord knows, if something does pop off with us divided like we are, we’ll need everyone on the same page. We won’t stand a chance any other way.”

  “No worries,” Grace said lightheartedly with a shrug. “I’m sure we’ll handle it.”

  “How do you know that?”

  “Easy. Because if we can’t, we’re all dead anyway.”

  “That’s awfully apathetic, don’t you think?”

  “Creative use of apathy is the only technique I have in my repertoire that keeps me positive.” Grace paused while John snickered. “So what’s your plan for the day? Isn’t it about time for your nap?”

  John nearly snorted. “I don’t have time. With everything going on right now, I don’t think I’ll get a wink of sleep until it’s over.”

  “That’s if it’s ever over.”

  John laughed slightly. “You’ve never had a problem being realistic, either, have you?”

  “Nope.” Grace cocked her head to the side. “It’s served me well too. Realism and I have had a pretty good relationship. It’s an immaculate symbiosis.”

  John pointed to the line of Honda Rancher ATVs, two of which were left still parked. “We’re missing a machine,” he said. “I take that to mean Michelle left already?”

  Grace nodded. “She went to Alex’s house right after the others left, and not a moment after. She was in a hurry, but she knew Fred would’ve lit her up if he saw her go alone.”

  “There’s no doubt about that,” said John. “Being honest, I’m not completely comfortable with her going by herself, either.”

  “I don’t think either one of us could have stopped her had we tried.”

  “Still—I would have liked to have had the option of going along.”

  Grace shook her head. “No way. Right now, you’re needed here, John. You’re one of the only capable men left in the valley who isn’t bedridden. And I, for one, am glad you’re here. Thanks for staying.”

  John turned to her and smiled. “Wow. Positivity disguised as apathy, realism, and now sincerity. I’m impressed, Grace. I didn’t know you were capable of the latter. I don’t know what’s gotten into you lately, but I’m digging it.”

  Grace fidgeted a moment before a sharp cramp churned in her abdomen. It lasted about a minute before slowly subsiding. It was a familiar pain, something she had experienced several times before over the span of the past several days. “Nothing has gotten into me per se. I guess I’m just starting to acclimatize, finally.”

  John patted her back gently. “I was wondering if that was ever going to happen,” he jeered, then paused a moment to scan the tree lines both in front and behind them. “By the way, I know you had something to do with Christian going on the expedition, but I don’t want to accuse you of anything. I just want to say thank you.”

  Grace cut her eyes at him. “Thank me? John, believe it or not, I love my sister just as much if not more than you do. I know when she needs someone to watch her back, and I also knew the someone couldn’t have been you. At least, not now. Definitely not now.”

  John’s face began turning pale. “It should have been, though. I worry about Lauren all the time. And I mean all the time. And that’s now. Back before all this crap ever started, I never gave her welfare much thought. But the situation’s changed drastically, and now I just can’t help myself. And I know that probably sounds crazy, especially considering what she’s capable of.”

  Grace nodded her recognition but didn’t say anything.

  After a moment, John asked, “Do you have any idea what her backstory is?”

  “Her backstory?”

  “Yeah. Like where she learned all this…I don’t know. The shooting skills. The fighting skills. The full-on badassery.”

  Grace twiddled, knowing she was privy, but feeling discretion was in order. “I don’t know…I’ve always just accepted Lauren for who she is.”

  John nodded. “Me too. But recently, I’ve considered going the other route with her. I think I should start demanding answers. I think I deserve them.” He paused, turning his head away. “I shouldn’t have let her go. Dammit. I want her back here right now.”

  “She’ll be back soon with bells on,” said Grace just as another row of cramps edged their way through her abdomen, causing her to keel over. She tried to continue her response, but found herself unable to speak. The pain was taking her breath away.

  John noticed immediately. “Grace? Are you all right?”

  Grace held her breath and moaned, “I don’t know. My stomach feels like it’s being twisted in knots—like a muscle cramp or something.” She wrapped both arms around her belly, trying to squeeze away the pain. “Oh boy, oh man. Holy hell, this isn’t good. This is really not good.”

  John reached for her and knelt beside her, his face coated with distress. “I’ll go fetch Kristen.”

  “Yeah, you’d better go do that,” Grace said, her teeth clenched. “And you might want to hurry.”

  As John took off in a sprint in the direction of the Masons’ home, where Kristen Perry was tending to the others, Grace vomited the food she had eaten this morning. She wiped her mouth with her sleeve, slid her pack off, and reached for her water bottle, rinsing out her mouth and taking a few sips.

  John raced away, hopped the gate at the end of the driveway, and disappeared across the road.

  After losing sight of him, Grace started hearing the buzzing sounds in the sky again. She began feeling weak and light-headed. Her skin tingled and her vision went blurry, and seconds later, she blacked out.

  Chapter 3

  Thorny Bottom

  Hardy County, West Virginia

  Wednesday, December 1st

  Jesseca had a vintage Korean War-era M1 carbine propped against her knee. While leaning inward to the conversation, a considerable amount of cleavage protruded from the top of her button-down insulated flannel shirt.

  She rested her chin in her palm and perched her elbow on a knee nearest the carbine, which bore indecipherable East Asian inscriptions on both its wooden stock and well-worn leather sling.

  Just above her steely gaze, one of Jesseca’s eyebrows sat an inch higher than its twin, and the look she was giving off was difficult to interpret. She looked interested, but her interest was mired under multiple layers of skepticism. “So, let me get this straight…let’s see if I’m following you correctly.” The index finger of her free hand danced in random order. “Basically, you’re telling me that the Department of Homeland Security or FEMA…one or the other, or both, has it out for you for some reason, is that right?”

  Michelle held up a finger, only to be interrupted before she could offer a reply.

  “Hold on—wait a sec…I’m not finished yet,” said Jesseca. “And these two federal agencies have sent agents into the mountains specifically to hunt you and your neighbors down. You also believe at one time, they hired a gang of mercenaries on motorcycles to kill all of you. And since that didn’t work, they’ve decided to bait and poison the wildlife you hunt, and poison your sole water source?” Jesseca rolled her eyes and leaned back into the sofa, taking the M1 carbine into her lap. “I gotta tell you, Michelle, that’s the best story I’ve heard in a long time. We may live in the boonies and suffer from a lack of entertainment, but you needn’t conjure a story like that just to have an excuse to swing by for a visit.”

  “I know it sounds far-fetched,” Michelle said, “but it’s not a made-up story at all, and we have the sick to prove it. Truth is, I didn’t want to believe it, either. In fact, I was probably among the hardest to convince. But it’s true. It’s as true as I’m sitting here with you now.”

  Jesseca lowered her gaze to the firearm on he
r lap. “This M1 carbine belonged to my dad. He was probably the last good man…hell, who am I kidding—the only good man I’ve ever known. I loved him to death—still do, and my girls share the feeling. When I told him I was moving to the middle of nowhere with the girls, he about lost his mind. He wouldn’t hear of it. He told me he wouldn’t let us go unless we had a way to protect ourselves. To this day, it’s the only gun we own. In fact, I don’t even know how much ammunition we have for it.”

  “Have you ever needed to use it?”

  Jesseca shook her head. “No. Living so far away from people has done a superb job of keeping us from trouble. We have yet to make any enemies—apart from the occasional vagrant racoon, pesky coyote, or hungry black bear.” She stared hard at Michelle. “Just so you know, your story isn’t difficult for me to believe. Being honest, I’ve often wondered just how long it was going to be before the sugar and spice fairy tale changed its tune forever.”

  Michelle furrowed her brow. “I think…I mean, I believe we’ve already seen it happen. And I would love to sit here and relish every factoid and estimation, but I’m sorry, I didn’t come here for that. Time is of the essence. I came here to solicit your help.”

  Jesseca nodded and half smiled. “I know. I was just giving you shit for taking so long to visit.”

  Michelle exhaled. “It would have been sooner…but we’ve had our hands full.”

  “Alex hasn’t stopped talking about you and the others since she’s been home. I’m not what you’d call a trusting person, Michelle, but the things Alex has told us about you and Grace and Christian and Lauren, Norman, and all the other names she’s brought up, have given me little choice other than to consider all of you my friends, as if I didn’t have a reason to before.” She paused, leaning back on the sofa again. “So what exactly do you need from me?”

  “The last time I was here, you told me you grow practically all of your medicine.”

  “That we do,” Jesseca said proudly. “Analgesics, antibiotics, antihistamines, decongestants…”

  “What about antidotes?”

  “Hmm…I see what you’re proposing. I’ll be the first to say I’m no expert, but there’s not much that can’t be learned by reading.” Jesseca gestured with her head to the bookshelf behind her. “I can think of about five books off the top of my head that might have what we’re looking for.” She paused a moment while concern filled her expression. “How many were poisoned?”

  “Quite a few.”

  “Any idea what it was?”

  Michelle reached into her backpack for her husband’s only self-published book, opening it to a bookmarked page. She handed the book to Jesseca. “We think it’s one of these listed here. Something my husband referred to as weaponized biological agents.”

  Jesseca probed at the book a moment, then eyeballed Michelle curiously. “Something your husband referred to?” She thumbed through the pages, then flipped it over to read through the blurb on the back cover. “Are you saying this is your husband’s book?”

  Michelle nodded without hesitation. “Yes. He published it a few years ago.”

  Jesseca smiled. “Holy crap. The girls are going to be thrilled! They know someone who knows someone who’s an author! It looks super-interesting, and the blurb genuinely speaks to me. I bet there’s a lot of informative subject matter inside.” She set the M1 down on the floor, taking care to point the muzzle safely toward the wall. “Would you mind if I kept it for a while so all of us can have a chance to read it? It’s been a long time since we’ve had anything new to read around here.”

  “Sure, I don’t see why not. Just, if you would, please be very careful with it. It’s the only one we have.”

  “You needn’t worry about that,” Jesseca assured her. “We take good care of books around these parts. They’re…well, irreplaceable, if you catch my drift.”

  Michelle nodded. “I believe I do.” Looking up, she saw a sparkling set of eyes peering at her from around the corner of the hallway.

  While Jess thumbed through the pages of her husband’s book, Michelle waved a finger at Alex—who waved back in kind.

  In that instant, Alex emerged and launched herself into Michelle’s lap, hugging her around the neck. “Where have you been? It’s been a month of days. I never thought it would take this long for you to come visit us…I’ve been worried about you.”

  Michelle returned Alex’s affection with an embrace of her own. “Don’t take it personally. I’ve been meaning to visit you and your mom for a while now. We’ve just been busy. Recently though, circumstances have made coming here a priority.”

  Alex pulled away from Michelle and stared at her with concern, noting the momentousness of Michelle’s features. “Has something happened?” Alex pointed at her. “Remember, I can sense worry a mile away.”

  Michelle nodded. “I haven’t forgotten, nor will I. And yes, something has happened…something very harmful to us, and I’ve come here looking for some help.”

  Alex whipped her head to her mother, her ponytail inadvertently smacking Michelle in the cheek. “Mom? We’re going to help them, right?”

  Jesseca remained transfixed on the book’s pages as she thumbed through them. She hesitated before glancing up at her daughter. “You know how we do things, Alex. At least, I hope you do by now.”

  Alex furrowed her brow, lowering her head slightly. “I do, Mom. Of course I do.”

  “These people saved your life and brought you back to me,” Jesseca continued, a stern look in her eye. “I thought I’d lost you, and when you showed up with Michelle that day, my world was complete again. Somehow, they were in the right place at the right time—right when you needed them most. Things like that don’t just happen.” She paused. “And now they need our help, and there’s no way I can tell them no. Of course we’re going to help them.”

  Alex hopped down from Michelle’s lap and pranced over, enclosing her mother’s neck with her arms.

  Jesseca kissed Alex on the temple and, with her eyes closed, nuzzled her like a dam with newborn puppies. “So, listen…we’ll be leaving soon. Gather your things…go-bags with extended overnight gear, extra food, and weapons. Pass the word along and have your sisters do the same.”

  Alex’s look of excitement dissipated and was replaced with one of dire importance. She glanced at Michelle momentarily before looking back at her mother and darting away. “Yes, ma’am.”

  Michelle couldn’t help but be amazed at what she was witnessing. The willingness to help pleased her, and the overall reverence and mindfulness of the family structure in Jesseca’s home was impressive.

  She could remember how rare it had been, especially before the collapse, to see children—particularly teenagers—be this obedient and respectful of their parents. Single-parent households had often seemed the most affected. But it was clear Jesseca had been able to persevere despite society’s decaying moral standards.

  Jesseca finished perusing Alan Russell’s book and carefully folded it closed. Bringing it to her chest, she stood and set it on the table beside her and then made her way to the hallway, turning her head over her shoulder seconds before disappearing. “We’ll just be a few minutes. It’s been a while since we ventured out, so we need to gather up all our things…that is, if we can find them all.” Jesseca held out her hand and smiled. “Make yourself at home while you wait. Mi casa es su casa.”

  Chapter 4

  “Every action has equal and opposite reaction. This is law of the universe and spares none. Wrong done and injustice inflicted is paid back in the same coin. No one has escaped justice of the universe. It is only a matter of time.”

  —Anil Sinha

  Exact location unknown

  Allegany County, Maryland

  Saturday, December 4th. Early morning. Present day

  “And the rocket’s red glare,” Lauren said, her voice nearly cooing with joy. Her expression was eager, her eyes skittish and wide, her concentration hinged on the transposing early morning sk
y.

  After a half-dozen or more muffled thumps, beckoning like shotgun blasts going off in the distance, the first in an ensemble of pyrotechnic flares soared into the sky overhead and burst into ignition—the turbulent mixing of gasses letting go a boiling rumble. Subsequent bursts flashed to life seconds later, illuminating the heavens above and draping the landscape beneath in a vivid, flickering, rubescent glow.

  The startling light show in the lower troposphere quieted the celebratory squeals and laughter of the crowds outside the crude stockade holding Lauren and the others captive. The overall disposition of their imprisoners had also taken a drastic turn for the worse, and it seemed as though their evening of festivities was coming to an end. The dancing, chanting, and horseplay had ceased to be, and the gathering now stood pale-faced and expressionless, jaws clenched, and brows drawn together in worry, their eyes practically glued to the sky.

  Lauren reasoned from their reactions that something similar, or perhaps identical to this had happened to these thugs before. What Christian had shared regarding previous attacks by a militia or paramilitary group, serving as reasoning for their captors’ being so brutally hostile toward Fred Mason, was starting to make sense. That correlation aside, she knew positively nothing could serve as justification for their actions, and retribution had become requisite.

  Lauren took hold of two wooden supports in front of her and squeezed them while gritting her teeth. “It’s time for all of you to get what you deserve.” She glanced skyward, feeling a fluttering in her stomach while her heart pounded away in anticipation. “Come on, guys. Make things right. Do what you do best. Send it.”