by M. J. Haag
“Why?”
“Because someone has to. Because no one caring means humanity is throwing in the towel.”
“And what does this have to do with your conversation with Angel?”
“I knew she was pregnant and suggested she leave with you.” He held up his hand as if he thought I would interrupt him. “I made it very clear that I wasn’t kicking her out. That she had a choice. But that I thought she and her unborn child would be safer with you and the fey in Tolerance. She said she’s not afraid of the fey or leaving Whiteman.”
My view of Matt shifted in that moment. He was still an ass and probably always would be. But out of necessity. He really did care.
“I told her that I would be leaving with the fey to look for my son in a few days. We both know the risk involved with that, and I suggested she not join me until I return. Can you talk to Bertha about giving Angel double portions? The average pregnant woman should gain about twenty pounds. Angel’s lost weight.”
“I’ll talk to Bertha. Is there anything you need to help mitigate the risk when you leave?”
“I don’t think so. Molev is sending out fifty fey and a truck. We’re going to be collecting medical supplies as we go. He knows we’re out of everything.”
“Molev is a good man. Will Drav and Mya be looking after Lilly?”
“No. Julie and Rick, Mya’s parents.”
I waited for him to say more. To try to talk me into staying even though he said he wouldn’t. Instead, he held out his hand.
“Be careful out there, Mrs. Feld.”
I wrapped my hand in his, willing to be cordial.
“I’ll do my best.”
He left the area under Kerr’s watchful gaze.
The next several hours passed with a steady string of patients. Finally, I looked up and found only Kerr waiting.
“I need sleep,” I said, moving closer to Lilly’s cot. “If you’d like to sleep on the other cot, you’re welcome to it.”
I eased myself down beside Lilly’s limp form, not waiting for his answer. A jaw-cracking yawn took over as I closed my eyes and wrapped an arm around her. It didn’t matter that I had no blankets or that I still wore my shoes. That was my reality now. Ready to move at a moment’s notice and always in need of more sleep.
My mind drifted over the day’s events in awe. Every day since the quakes seemed like the longest day in my life; yet, today stood out among the rest. Everything would change come morning light, and only time would tell if it was a positive change or not.
* * * *
“Mommy, I have to go potty.” Lilly’s tiny fingers touched my face, a mix of prod and caress.
“Okay. I’m up.” As I rose, I got tangled up in the blanket covering me. I never used a blanket for this very reason.
Frowning, I looked around the room. The overhead light was off and the screens moved so the area was totally closed off from the rest of the hangar.
“I gotta go.” Lilly prodded me again.
I kicked off the blanket and stood so she could climb out of bed, too. She scampered toward the screen and stopped short at the last second when she finally caught on that there was no opening.
“Hold on, Lil. I just need to move it.”
Before I finished speaking, one of the panels slid back.
Kerr looked in at Lilly then waved her forward. She looked back at me.
“It’s okay,” I said. “I’m right behind you.”
She raced through the opening, veering in the direction of the bathroom. As soon as the door closed, I looked at Kerr.
“Did you do this? Move the screens?”
“Yes.”
“Why?”
“Because you needed sleep.”
I would have slept the same without the screens enclosing the area but didn’t say so. Maybe he thought I’d feel safer with them in place. Shrugging it off, I went back to the screened area for our pink bugout bag and waited in the hall for Lilly to knock on the door to indicate she was done.
When she did, I went inside and handed over her toothbrush and some paste. While I used the toilet, she brushed. My view on privacy had drastically changed when faced with zombies, hellhounds, and fey. It was easier to keep an eye on Lilly when she was within my line of sight.
She waited beside the door for me to finish brushing. Even here in the hangar, she knew not to open it and go out first. In this world, I feared what might lay on the other side of a door just as much as I valued the protection it provided when closed.
I dried my hands and pressed my ear to the steel panel. Everything was quiet. A good sign or a bad one?
Taking a slow breath, I gripped the knob and motioned Lilly back.
I hated doors.
Chapter Five
The door opened without a sound. Through the inch-wide gap, I peered into the hall. Nothing waited. Exhaling with relief, I eased the door further open and saw Kerr still standing near the screens. I motioned for Lilly.
“Ready for our adventure?” I asked, holding my hand out to her.
“No. I want to stay here.”
“I know you do. But I want us to live in the safest place possible. And I think the house I found is even safer than here.”
After wrapping her hand in mine, I started toward Kerr. Two other fey stepped into view as we approached. The hulking, muscled trio watched me with an intensity that slowed my steps. Why were there three now? Had they heard I was moving to their town and wanted to get a look at the fresh meat?
Lilly’s fingers twitched, and I gave her hand a reassuring squeeze. If we were going to live with the fey, for Lilly’s sake, I needed to get over my caution around them. Easier said than done when I found their size and strength alone intimidating. Never mind their oversized man parts or their keen interest in women.
The men watched our approach in silence. I studied them in return, noticing the differences in the three. Kerr had the longest hair. But not by much.
The bags I’d packed the evening before hung from the two newcomers’ shoulders.
“Mrs. Cassie Feld,” Kerr said, “this is Shax and Byllo.”
“Hello.”
The darker-skinned fey squatted down to Lilly’s level and held out both fists, palms down.
“My name is Byllo,” he said. “Pick right or left.”
Lilly reached out and tapped his right hand. He turned it over and opened his fist to show a chocolate pudding cup. Lilly’s eyes lit up, and she looked up at me.
“Mommy, can I have it?”
“Yes.”
The man opened it for her and did a cool fold and twist with the lid to fashion a makeshift spoon. Lilly dug in.
“I care for Timmy,” Byllo said. “He is close to Lilly’s age. Julie says that playdates are good for children. Timmy and Lilly should have one.”
“Oh. I didn’t realize the fey had children.”
“We do not. Timmy is human. He was alone, and I saved him.”
“Alone?”
Hope burst in my chest. If a toddler could survive even a day alone, that meant my son might still be alive.
“Not alone,” Kerr said. “The stupid ones were using him as bait.”
Lilly stopped eating and stared up at Kerr with wide eyes.
Byllo stood and glowered at Kerr.
“Do not talk about the S.O. in front of children. It is not appropriate for them to hear. Like the P word.”
My mind felt too numb to register half of what Byllo was saying. It was still stuck on the word bait. I knew the infected were getting smarter with traps, but using children? The small bubble of hope withered inside of me. The idea that it might really just be Lilly and me now pierced me deeply. Devastated, I squatted down by Lilly and wrapped her in a hug.
“It’s okay. You’re safe,” I said against her hair. “And I mean to keep you that way. That’s why we’re moving to Tolerance. I love you, Lilly-bean. More than you will ever know.”
“I love you too, Mommy.” Her half-eaten pudding cup f
ell to the floor as her little arms wrapped around my neck and squeezed me tightly.
I picked her up and looked at Kerr.
“We’re ready.”
His gaze shifted from me to the back of Lilly’s head.
“How fast should I run today?” he asked.
“As fast as you can,” she said immediately.
He grunted and started toward me. I looked away, uncomfortable with what I knew was about to happen. His arms slid around me and hefted us up against his chest.
“Tuck your hands against your mother,” Kerr said even as his fingers moved minutely on my leg. “Running fast will be cold.”
Lilly curled into my warmth. I pulled up our hoods, held tight, and closed my eyes. The temperature drop let me know the moment Kerr stepped outside as did the icy wind. After we cleared the gate, I turned my face against Kerr and waited for the dipping sensation in my stomach to signal the moment we crossed into Tolerance.
Lilly shook the entire time, and Kerr didn’t stop until we were at Julie’s back door. He set me down and knocked.
Julie answered a moment later.
“It’s good to see you again,” she said. Her gaze shifted to Lilly, who’d turned in my arms to look at her. “You’re just in time for some cocoa, Lilly. Would you like some?”
Lilly nodded, and I stepped inside.
“Lilly, this is Julie. She offered to let us stay with her for a while.”
Julie smiled at Lilly.
“You won’t need your shoes or all those layers of clothing in here, Lilly. Go ahead and take them off and then you can have that cup of cocoa right there on the table.”
She pointed to an actual mug of cocoa that waited with marshmallows floating on top. Lilly’s eyes rounded, and she hurried to pull off her shoes. Seconds later, she was perched on the chair and sipping the first cocoa she’d had in ages.
“How was it last night?” Julie asked softly. “I imagine the reactions were varied when you let people know you were leaving.”
“It was pretty quiet once everyone got over their initial panic that I wouldn’t be available.”
“And Matt?”
“Reasonable and apologetic. He said he regretted how he handled the situation.”
“Do you believe him?”
“I do.”
“I’m surprised you didn’t stay.”
“Regret doesn’t change what happened. And, I now know what could happen if he’s feeling desperate again.”
She made a non-committal sound and watched Lilly for a moment. When I moved to take off my shoes, she stopped me with a wink.
“If you’d like to check on your patient,” she said, “I’d be happy to entertain Lilly for you.”
Lilly didn’t even blink at having a stranger watch her. It wasn’t the first time I left her with someone because of my doctor role.
“After she’s done with her cocoa, I can show her the room she can use and all the toys we have for her.”
At that comment, Lilly looked at me, her eyes wide. I nodded and gave her an encouraging smile. She shook her head and slid from the chair. Julie glanced at me in question as Lilly attached herself quite firmly to my leg.
I smoothed my hand over Lilly’s hair while giving the older woman an apologetic smile.
“I don’t want to be bait.” Lilly’s words were muffled against my leg but still understandable.
Julie frowned and bent down to Lilly’s level.
“Bait? Goodness, no. I promise the infected can’t hear the toys in here.” Julie’s gaze shifted to me. “Where did she get such an idea?”
“Kerr, when Byllo mentioned the boy he cares for.”
“Ah,” Julie said, her concern fading. “The fey are learning. Every day. Every hour. Bit by bit. Can you imagine coming here and not even knowing a word of our language or understanding our culture? They make mistakes constantly. Things we think are common sense. Like what’s appropriate to say in front of others. Unfortunately, even honest mistakes have consequences.”
She studied Lilly for a moment.
“I have an idea. What if Lilly and I quietly bake some cookies while you go check on your patient?”
Lilly turned her head up to me.
“We can’t make cookies. Bertha said so.”
“Bertha probably said that because she didn’t have eggs,” Julie said. “But the fey are really, really good at getting to the things we can’t, and they found some eggs that are still good. And some milk to go with them.”
“You found milk?” I asked in disbelief.
“Powdered, canned, and some in single serving vacuum packages. It’s amazing what they bring back when they go out.” She smiled at both of us. “What do you say? Should we give Mommy some time to check her patient and surprise her with some real cookies and milk when she gets back?”
Her invitation had nothing to do with pushing me to fulfill some obligation to care for Merdon. In two days’ time, the hunting party would return, and I would leave. Lilly needed to be ready for that. To be left behind. And she needed to be able to trust someone here to keep her safe when I didn’t return that first night.
Julie held out her hand to Lilly. My daughter didn’t turn to look at Julie but kept her gaze focused on me instead. She was smart and knew something was up. Or, like so many others, she just didn’t trust change to be a good thing anymore.
“I would love to taste a cookie when I’m done. I’m not sure I even remember what they taste like. Go on. Help Julie.”
Lilly exhaled heavily, like she would have done in our old life if I’d told her to clean her room, and reluctantly detached herself from my leg. It took everything I had to turn around and leave the house.
On the back porch, I stopped and looked up. Clouds drifted low in the sky, a sign of more snow on the way. My eyes watered in the sudden chill, and I blinked back my urge to cry, which had nothing to do with the weather.
I didn’t know what to do. What decisions were the right ones? I feared my drive to find my son would orphan my daughter. Yet, I couldn’t just hide where it was safe for both of us and let the guilt and the burning need to know if he was still alive eat me from the inside. I’d go crazy. Not trying would kill me just as surely as an infected.
Taking a deep breath, I started out toward the house I remembered from the day before. Footprints tracked the freshly fallen snow between houses, through yards, up and down streets. There wasn’t a pristine patch left anywhere, and the reasons why stood in the early morning shadows, watching my progress. So many fey.
One of them came jogging my way, his large frame and serious expression intimidating me.
“Drav, get back here!” someone called distantly.
The man’s gaze shifted to the side for a moment as he came to a stop in front of me.
“Drav, I presume?” I said.
“Yes. You are Mrs. Feld, the doctor. Will you look at my Mya?”
“I’m not an actual doctor, but I can try to help you. Tell me what’s happening. What’s concerning her?”
“She says she is fine. But her head hurts, and she won’t show me her spots.”
I paused for a moment, wondering if I was understanding the situation correctly. He wanted to see her parts, and she was telling him she had a headache? How exactly did that call for a doctor visit?
“I’m on my way to check on Merdon. But, I’d be happy to stop by afterward.”
“I will go with you.”
I nodded, figuring Mya would probably appreciate the alone time.
Ignoring my new friend, I let myself into the back door of the house Merdon was using. The scarred giant from the day before sat in the living room, watching TV. When he heard me enter, he stood and muted the movie. I couldn’t get over how easily they lived in their human surroundings.
“Hello, Mrs. Feld,” he said deeply. “Thank you for fixing Merdon.”
“He’s doing better, then?”
“Much.” He glanced at Drav. “We will be leaving today.�
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“Good. I will tell Molev after Mrs. Feld looks at Mya.”
“What is wrong with Mya?”
“Her head hurts again.”
While they spoke, I went down the hall to Merdon’s room. I found him sitting up in bed, looking at a children’s picture book of fables.
“Is this a history book?” he asked.
“No. It’s a children’s book. It has tales with lessons to help them understand right and wrong. Good decisions and bad decisions.”
He grunted and continued to look at the picture of a wolf that showed a funny image of a child in its belly.
“How are you feeling today?” I asked.
“Tired. My leg itches.”
“Do you mind if I look at your injuries again?”
He nodded, so I started with his leg. Someone had already changed the dressing. The wound underneath oozed a pinkish clear liquid, which I figured was a positive sign.
“Everything looks good. Don’t scratch any of the wounds when they itch. Keep the open ones dry and clean. It would be better if you stayed in bed for another day or two, if possible.”
“I will tell Molev,” Drav said from the doorway behind us. “Will you look at Mya now?”
“Sure. Let me just wash my hands.”
I found Drav waiting by the back door after I finished washing up. He led the way outside and set a brisk pace back in the direction we’d come.
Drav went around the side of a house and let himself in through the back door.
“I brought Mrs. Feld,” he called.
“Seriously, Drav. You’re ridiculous.”
Mya rounded the corner and gave Drav a narrowed eye stare before she shifted her hard gaze to me then crossed her arms. I recognized her immediately.
“Mom thinks you’re a decent person, but she wasn’t there when you tried to refuse treating Ghua.”
I studied the girl for a moment. She wasn’t much younger than me. Maybe four years. Yet, I felt so much older.
“Have you always been so narrow-minded?” I asked.
Her brows shot up, and she pointedly glanced at Drav.
“I think I’m the furthest thing from being narrow-minded,” she said.