“An honest mistake. The steps are dangerous as you undoubtedly saw, the construction only half finished. We may eventually make them accessible to guests.”
Tara saw Mary glance at her. So much for getting permission to use the stairs.
“I’m afraid I was a little rude about it,” Jake told him.
“You apologized, Jake, and all is forgiven. We understood.” Tara smiled at the young man. “Thank you for this wonderful party, Mr. Brenner, and for helping out Mary’s grandson outside.” Mr. Brenner accepted their thank you and Tara motioned toward the crowd who were talking and laughing. “I think you’ve restored morale in town better than anything else could.”
Mr. Brenner smiled graciously. “Oh, it’s quite alright. I must admit it’s not entirely altruistic of course. From a business standpoint, it’s a bit self-serving.”
“That may be,” Mary interjected, “but that’s okay, it’s a perfectly acceptable thing to do promotion-wise. And we are all enjoying it so much.”
Tara saw her opening to invite the man to dinner. “Jake is coming for a chicken dinner tomorrow evening, would you like to join us?”
“I can’t wait, it sounds delicious!” Jake interrupted.
“Thank you, but I will be out of town tomorrow. I’m still moving things between here and my winery up north. But I’ll send a bottle of our finest along with Jake,” Mr. Brenner told her.
Tara nodded, thanking him. Mr. Brenner told them to enjoy the party, he was glad they could make it, and excused himself into the back room. The rest of the evening seemed anti-climactic to Tara, but she did enjoy it. Just talking to everyone, and for a little while being able to forget the bad things was wonderful.
She asked Jake if she might take a few cubes of cheese home for Lee. He brought her a baggie filled full of cheese, crackers and pickles, and Tara couldn’t wait to surprise her husband.
~
Tara and Mary pedaled toward Clyde’s house discussing the party, with Tara’s empty cart rattling down the road behind her. They’d sent Luke and Julie home, and Tara was picking up Lee. Mary had volunteered to spend the night with Clyde.
Brenner and Jake had acquitted themselves well, allaying both Tara and Mary’s original suspicions, but Morgan still raised the tiny hairs on the back of Tara’s neck. “I wish Lee would’ve come. I honestly think he may have gotten more insight into the men. He’s rarely wrong on first impressions.”
Mary agreed. “Women’s intuition is sometimes more accurate, but nothing beats a man for knowing another man’s motives.”
They found Lee inside at Clyde’s kitchen table, his bad leg propped on cushions stacked on a kitchen chair. He looked relieved to see them. Tara kissed his forehead and helped him up.
“How’s Clyde?”
“About the same—but he woke up once, and I swear he knew who I was. He seemed a little more with it.”
This was great news for Tara. “Maybe the antibiotic tea is actually working, he’s seemed better ever since we started it.”
She handed Lee the baggie full of party goodies, and loved seeing his excitement at getting a treat. He immediately opened it and began eating.
She walked back to Clyde’s room to check on him while Mary filled Lee in on Brenner and the party. Tara held a mask loosely over her mouth as she leaned down closer to the old man. His breathing seemed easier too. Hope flared in her as she lifted his pajama shirt and checked his sores. They were greasy with ointment, but weren’t near as inflamed as they had been. Maybe this is actually going to work! Bless you, Norma.
When Tara returned to the kitchen, Mary was unloading her backpack on the table; a book to read and a small bottle of instant coffee crystals. She smiled at Lee and Tara. “I’m ready to settle in for the night.”
“Okay, old man, you ready to go home?” Tara joked. Lee just grunted assent, obviously tired and in some pain.
Mary helped her lead Lee out and get him positioned in the bike cart. Moments later, a woman’s voice came from down the alley. It was Bethany, shouting something, on her bike and headed their way. She and Craig were just a few doors down from Clyde now, in the house they had recently disinfected. Craig had gone straight from the party to his shift at the camp, and Bethany would just be returning home from babysitting Ben.
“Mary, Julie’s sick! Luke sent me for you. I think he said she was bleeding.”
“Oh my God!” cried Mary in total panic. “The baby!” The stricken look on her face said it all. She loved this unborn baby almost as much as she loved Julie.
“You go, Mary, I’ll stay here tonight! Take my bike, you can drop Lee off.”
Lee frowned and tried to climb out of the cart. “I’ll stay with you Tara.”
Tara shook her head. “Don’t be silly, you’re tired and in pain. Go home. I’ll see you in the morning.” Mary agreed, quickly climbing on Tara’s bike.
“Think positive, Mary, it’s probably nothing.” Mary’s face was white, but she nodded hopefully at Tara. “I’ll see you soon.”
Bethany and Tara stood watching her pedal off, pulling Lee behind her, and he gave them a wave. Tara blew him a kiss as they disappeared in the dark.
“I hope Julie’s alright,” worried Bethany. Tara hoped so too. She said goodbye to Bethany who headed home, and reentered Clyde’s kitchen, concerned over what might be wrong with Julie.
A sound from the bedroom drew her, and Tara pulled her mask into place and entered to see Clyde with eyes open, blinking. This was such a wonderful surprise. Tara started toward him, making it almost to the bed before the smell hit her. Clyde had obviously soiled himself, and Tara would need to change him. Trying not to show a reaction to the awful odor, Tara smiled and leaned over into the old man’s face. He focused on her, and Tara was ecstatic.
“I’m sorry, Tara,” Clyde whispered. He hadn’t spoken to anyone for a long time. This was amazing.
“Don’t you worry about it one bit, Clyde! You’re getting better! I’m just going to get some water and clean you up.”
Tara ran to the kitchen counter for the container they kept full of boiled water. It was empty. She went outside to the rain barrel to get some, but there was none there either. They’d used it all up brewing the medicinal tea. Tara could’ve kicked herself for not remembering to replace it. She stood and thought for a moment. He’s going to need water either way. I can maybe wipe him up a little and change his diaper, but I need it for everything else too.
She made an instant decision to run to the river for it. She would need it before morning.
Tara returned to Clyde’s bed, enthusiastically telling him she was going to the river, and would be back in a half hour or so. She wiped Clyde off as best she could, changing his bottom sheet and giving him a new diaper. Her heart hurt as she rolled him to each side while replacing the sheet under him; his body was so thin, it felt like skin stretched over bones.
He’s getting well, Tara, stop it. Look how much better he is already! She steered her mind away from his condition, forcing herself to believe he was finally on the mend.
When Tara finished and tucked him back in, he opened his eyes again and gave her a faint smile. “I love you, Tara,” he whispered. Tears instantly formed in her eyes. She was so thankful for this moment with him, and for his improvement. Again, she blessed Norma for her recipe.
“I love you so much, Clyde, and you are going to be alright. I’ll be right back, you rest.”
The old man closed his eyes, nodding slightly. Tara left him there, pulling the door closed behind her.
She found the biggest container that would fit in Mary’s bike basket, and started off down the alley. As she passed Bethany and Craig’s house, she briefly considered stopping to ask if she could borrow some water, but the windows were dark. Bethany must be asleep, might as well get my own supply.
Tara pedaled fast, not wanting to leave Clyde alone for long. Her excitement at the huge strides in his condition almost wiped out her worry over Julie. Tara rolled quickly a
long the paved country road toward the bluff above the river, glad it was so dark and she could easily slip in and out without being seen. Ever since finding the graves in the forest, the field above the river scared her; it was much too close to that spot.
I don’t have my gun. She’d come straight home from the party just long enough to slip on some pants. She forgot all about it in her rush to pick up Lee. Tara drew close and began watching the woods for movement. It would be hard to see though, as black as it was in the trees.
She lay Mary’s bike down again in the weeds and carried the water container to the path that led down to the river bank. She heard a few faint sounds coming from the camp compound, but nothing from the woods. That was good.
Tara knelt and let the river’s current fill the container then made her way back up the hill, struggling to carry the now-heavy jug of water. At the top, relieved she was almost clear of the place, she heard a sound from the direction of the trees. She froze, waiting either for it to repeat or to become recognizable as some benign source, possibly deer. She stared toward the woods, imagining she saw shadows moving. Stop it, Tara, your imagination is running wild. She forced her eyes away from the trees, found Mary’s bike in the weeds, tossed the jug into the basket and pushed the bicycle to the edge of the field. She jumped on and sped back to Clyde’s.
Tara parked just outside the back door and reached for the knob. The door was cracked open an inch. I thought I shut that. Fear rose into her chest, and instantly she had trouble catching her breath. She cautiously stepped inside the kitchen, senses tingling, on high alert. A bad feeling was enveloping her, and she tried to understand exactly where it was coming from. Nothing was out of place. In the hallway to Clyde’s room, Tara stopped. Something lay on the hardwood floor. It was a dark green, shiny, pointed leaf. It looked familiar, like the leaves of some plant Tara knew.
She pushed open Clyde’s door. The covers were neatly folded down, exposing the clean blue sheets and pillow case Tara had just changed. But Clyde was gone. On the pillow, still indented with the shape of Clyde’s head, lay a white Trillium framed by two of its usual three glossy green leaves—the missing one lying in Clyde’s hallway.
Tara screamed.
Trilliums—they only grow in the graveyard. A building terror consumed her as she rushed to the bathroom and around the rest of the small house, checking for Clyde. But she already knew where he was. She screamed again, running headlong for the door. Mounting Mary’s bike in a running leap, she flew back to the field above the river. She no longer cared about herself; her own safety mattered little to her now. She already imagined what might wait for her in the forest; a warning, the ultimate revenge for meddling with a madman. She tried to subdue the image her brain had conjured.
Tara hit the field running, flinging Mary’s bike away from her into the weeds. She ran into the trees, scrambling over the deadfall in the dark, scanning the forest floor among the graves for a newly disturbed area. On the other side of the Trilliums, just past the most recent woman’s burial, a hastily mounded, man-sized pile of dirt lay. Tara rushed to it. At the top of the pile, Clyde’s sweet old face protruded from the soil, earth and leaves stuffed in his mouth.
Tara screamed again, the shrill sound reverberating through the forest. She knelt, digging frantically to uncover Clyde, gouging the debris from his mouth to restore his airway. She saw his bony chest still rising and falling slightly, and Tara pulled him to her thankfully. “Clyde, Clyde, my God, who did this?”
The old man’s eyes fluttered, once, twice, and finally opened. A beatific smile curved his lips at the sight of Tara holding him. He gave one final gasp and died in her arms. Tara began to rock back and forth holding Clyde’s body close, wailing and keening, totally hysterical.
Tara lost all sense of time and awareness, the horror of Clyde’s death too much to bear. Eventually, she felt strong arms separating her from Clyde and turned to see Craig and Bethany.
“Tara, I heard you from the camp, my God, who did this? My God.”
Bethany, eyes still bleary with sleep, helped Tara to her feet and steered her toward the deadfall and out of the forest. Craig carried Clyde’s body over the trees and out through the field toward the white van he’d taken from the camp, parked along the road. They loaded Tara and Clyde’s body inside, and rushed her home to Lee.
~
Tara opened her eyes to find Lee, Mary, Bethany, and Craig around her bed. All she remembered was finding Clyde, and the next thing she knew, Mary was giving her something. A buzzy feeling in her head took the edge off, making the dreadful memory bearable.
“How is Julie?” she whispered to her friend.
“She’s okay, a little sick. Bethany got part of the message wrong, she cut her hand. I almost came back to Clyde’s, but figured I should stay with Julie. I’m so sorry, Tara.”
Craig patted Tara’s leg through the covers. “I’ve got to go back to work, Tara. We’ll talk soon. We’ll get this guy.” Bethany leaned in to hug her. The couple pulled Lee aside to say something on the way out, and then left the room.
Tara’s mind wasn’t working right at first, she kept trying to concentrate, but the pills Mary gave her left her unable. All Tara could remember was that they would finally need to fulfill Clyde’s longstanding request—to bury him in his uniform. Lee returned to her bedside, and she finally voiced her concerns.
“Craig is taking Clyde’s body to the camp morgue. We’ll have services, Tara, at the town cemetery.”
Tara’s head was clearing, the sleep fog leaving, and she was better able to think. She brought a shaky hand to her forehead, overwhelmed. She proceeded to tell them the entire story, as Mary and Lee stared incredulous.
“They must’ve been watching you Tara, watching the house. To snatch Clyde and get him bur—” Lee stopped, obviously not wanting to say buried, “—to take Clyde to the woods, you must’ve almost crossed paths with them.”
Suddenly, Tara remembered the chicken dinner planned for Jake the next day. “Oh no, Jake’s coming tomorrow for dinner.”
“We’ll have to cancel, he’ll understand.”
“No, Lee, it’s important to have him, for Clyde’s sake. We can’t let anyone know what actually happened. We don’t know if Jake’s involved or not. I have to do it somehow.”
Mary nodded. “I’ll help. Let’s do this for Clyde. We’ll just say he’s been ill and finally passed away.”
“Whoever did this, Tara, they are some sick sons of bitches. They took pleasure in hurting you, even more so than Clyde. Almost like a personal vendetta.”
Tara nodded. That much she had already realized.
“I can’t imagine why,” Lee added.
Mary narrowed her eyes. “I can. The only enemy Tara or Clyde would have is Meyers—because they put a stop to his lucrative schemes.”
“That’s true. I hadn’t really thought of that. But he’s in prison! Could he really still have the ability to control things here?”
“Tara thought she saw him not long ago, remember? What if he’s back, working to reinstate himself again?”
“If he is, then we’re doomed. Power, money, the military—he would have it all,” Lee answered. They thought silently about the implications for a few moments.
“We’ve somehow got to contact Clyde’s grandson, the general, and let him know about his grandpa,” Tara said.
“Melanie still hasn’t returned yet, she must have been delayed for some reason. Everything hinges on her,” Mary told her. “We needed her to contact him before but now it’s imperative. Clyde’s death and whoever caused it are proof enough for anyone. And Craig may be able to help get word to Clyde’s grandson if Melanie doesn’t come back soon. He should be able to call from the camp.”
“Yeah, they’ve got their military radios, but it’s not the kind of thing you want to call someone’s family about, not too cool to tell them over a radio. I was hoping Melanie might be able to track him down,” Tara said.
“I’m go
ing home, Tara. We’ll talk tomorrow. Just remember, Clyde’s in a better place, no more suffering, and all we can do here is stop whoever did this. I’ll be over to help fix dinner.”
Mary kissed her forehead, and Lee saw her out. Soon Lee was back, curling up beside Tara in bed. He held her until she fell asleep, which took a while, even though she was exhausted. Finally, Tara sank into a somewhat drug-induced oblivion, and did not dream at all.
Chapter 10
Tara woke with the sun, feeling refreshed for just a moment, until the previous night’s trauma crashed down around her again. Somehow, she had to cook and serve Jake a dinner tonight and act as though nothing were wrong. Well, not quite—I guess it’s okay to be a little sad, since we’re telling him our friend Clyde passed away. Tara wondered if he would think it strange they didn’t cancel dinner under the circumstances. Hopefully not, since he was so young; he might be a little lacking on funeral etiquette. As long as Jake didn’t suspect their multiple agenda—to grill him for info while checking out his trustworthiness—it should be fine.
As she got ready for the day, Tara continuously forced her mind away from the horrific scene the night before. She broke down once, simply unable to stop the train of thought which led up to her last moments with Clyde. She gave in to the grief and cried for a few minutes, then wiped her eyes and came downstairs. Lee had made her a cup of instant coffee, giving her a hug first thing, typically solicitous of her wellbeing. Tara wasn’t much of a crier—things had to get pretty awful for her to shed tears. She knew Lee spotted her red eyes immediately and she leaned into him for a moment, needing his comfort. They stayed that way until pounding on the front door announced Mary’s arrival.
Tara let her in and Mary headed straight for the kitchen, depositing a few items on the counter to fix for dinner that evening. A large Hen of the Woods mushroom and fresh green onions from her garden dominated the pile.
Mary turned to Tara as soon as she set her stuff down and wrapped her arms around her. This caused them both to lose their tenuous self-control and shed a few tears as they consoled each other.
Red Death (Book 2): Survivors Page 10