by Jeff Olah
“Weren’t they together, Lockwood and Thomas, part of the same group?”
“Yes, we’ll be killing two birds with one giant stone.”
“How will we find them?”
“Get Cory in here and bring me the sat phone.”
Tobias stood in the doorway as Goodwin attempted to shift his center of gravity and slide his right foot forward to match the left. As he stood straight and held out his right arm, a lightning bolt of white-hot pain shot through his tailbone and up through every last vertebrae. His body quivered and he fell back into the wall. As Goodwin began sliding backward, Tobias moved quickly, although it was too late and the older man slammed into his chair. The setback was almost immediate.
Lying flat on his back, Goodwin waved Tobias away. “I can’t feel my legs at all. Do whatever it takes to get Lockwood here. Whatever it takes.”
Out of the building and down the long sidewalk to where Sixth Street ended, Tobias stood under the afternoon sun. From where he stood, he’d be visible to those on the opposite side of the city. The men he’d be making a deal with, and in all likelihood be murdering before the day was over.
Tobias Cane happened upon Mitchell Blake and his group as they initially entered the city. They spoke briefly, both groups agreeing to share the resources and divide the city. They knew of one other family living near the center and decided that since they weren’t a threat, they’d leave them to die off on their own.
The two groups rarely interacted, although when they did it was usually to drive newcomers out. This worked for the better part of six months until a few of Goodwin’s men defected to Mitchell Blake’s camp. There wasn’t much either side could do, so things went on as normal.
Over the last few weeks, as Blake’s men now numbered nine and with Goodwin’s group diminishing, the conversation of who the city belonged to, took on a different tone. Blake wanted more of Goodwin’s area along with its provisions.
Goodwin refused the request and the two sides hadn’t spoken until today, when of all things Tobias called to ask for help. He wanted Blake’s men to drive Mason’s group out into the streets.
Blake agreed, although demanded that Goodwin and his men leave the city within twenty-four hours.
Tobias dialed the number and leaned into the brick building at his back. Six rings, then seven, and finally a voice on the other end. “Hey, get me Blake… we’re ready.”
220
Standing at the edge of the room and staring back at the others, he felt like an animal in a cage. Waiting for someone to speak and cradling his injured left hand, Mason could feel the blood pushing through his shoulder, down his arm, and into his hand. Running his right hand over the makeshift bandage, he looked to Savannah and nodded. “Thank you.”
Although fear had taken what little composure she had, Savannah smiled and returned the gesture. “You’re welcome.”
He wasn’t sure why the hammering pain that radiated from just above the knuckle joint continued. Was the initial injury worse than he originally thought or had the incredibly detailed cleaning and bandaging of his wound finally taken its toll?
The dressing completely covered his left hand and ran up to the middle of his forearm. The area around the wound looked remarkably hygienic and the outline of where his middle finger ended and his left hand disappeared somehow didn’t bother him, although something did.
His head still spun, but now only small circles and in looking around the room he made sure to go slow. Mason was waiting for them, but he also needed time to process what had taken place. Nausea didn’t quite capture what sat in the pit of his stomach. He was exceedingly hungry, although that wasn’t it either.
Peering down at his blood soaked jeans and then back to the others he said, “I’ll be right back.” He stood and moved toward the door.
Mason walked slowly but with a purpose out into the hall. Savannah followed closely. He turned to see her moving closer with each step and wondered why it was her. Had she been appointed as his caretaker by the group or was this something else? As the events of the last few hours began to come back to him, he hoped it was something else.
While still not completely coherent and between states of consciousness, he was only aware of brief moments that came in quick surges. Upon entering the room, Mason remembered being laid on the floor and watching as the group converged at his side. He recalled the pain that deepened as he became more alert and continually slid in and out of consciousness.
He remembered waking twice while the wound was being cleaned, which instantly caused him to slip back under and again a few more times while they were applying the dressing. He noticed Cedric sending his wife for supplies and his son out to check the perimeter. But mostly Mason remembered how calm everyone appeared to be, almost as if they’d forgotten where they were and the danger that was coming for them.
Mason reached the end of the hall and moved toward the stairs, although Savannah moved to his right and stood between him and the door. “Where are you going? We don’t have the time for this. You know we have to get out of the city and Cedric wants—”
His mouth was dry and the words felt like sandpaper as they slid across his tongue. “I don’t care what Cedric wants. There’s something I need to do, so just go back and tell him that we’ll be gone in ten minutes.” He didn’t like the way that felt. He didn’t like speaking to her like that, and although it surprised him, it worked.
Savannah leaned in close, hugged him, and then whispered into his ear, “Do what you need to do, just remember that we still need you. So, please be careful.” She leaned back, looked into his eyes and stepped aside.
He didn’t wait for her to change her mind or to see that she’d actually started back to the suite; he simply started up the stairs. The first few steps were a challenge in that his balance hadn’t fully returned and shifting his weight with each rise in elevation required that he run his right hand along the wall.
Reaching the first landing he was already out of breath and confused. His purpose for continuing on became less clear with each step forward. Turning toward the next set of stairs, Mason’s head began to pound and miniature transparent stars flittered across his eyes.
Resting for a few minutes seemed to help, although ever so slightly. He placed his hand back along the wall to his right and scaled the next three flights before stopping once again to take a short break.
Stepping onto the landing just below his intended destination, Mason again stopped and this time leaned into the wall at his back. His left hand throbbed and although he thought better of it, he looked down to see the bandage beginning to saturate. The wound had begun to ooze, although it didn’t appear to be cause for worry. He’d seen worse.
Clutching the drawstring of his hooded sweatshirt with only one hand, he fumbled to untie the knotted ends and then pulled it free. Taking a deep breath, he took the final eight steps to the landing where the remains of his ring and pinky fingers lay among the fragmented pieces of drywall.
Dropping to one knee, Mason scanned the diamond plated landing and then the first few steps leading to the door above. Nothing, no sign of it. Pushing aside what remained of a tattered newspaper, he slid the front page in close and noticed the date.
The coincidence was too rare to overlook and as he spotted what he’d ascended the five and a half floors to retrieve, he smiled. Leaning forward, Mason reached to his right and pulled free his wedding ring. This was the first time since the day of the infection that it sat separated from his left hand. Ironically, this was the same date plastered across the front of the newspaper he now held in his right hand. The day the world changed forever.
Placing the drawstring around his neck and looping one end through his ring, he tied it off and watched as the titanium band disappeared into his shirt.
The trip back down wasn’t nearly as physically taxing, although it took Mason twice as long. He knew that exiting into the hall and regrouping with his people meant they’d be back on the street
s and running once again. Was he ready? He wasn’t quite sure, although one thing was certain. There was no way Marcus Goodwin was going to let them simply drive away without a fight.
Before entering the suite, Mason stopped at the door and held his right hand over the portion of his shirt that hid his ring. That part of his life had ended nearly twelve months earlier, although he was just now letting it go for good. He wanted to move on without feeling guilty and now he could.
His recent injury and loss of consciousness ignited something he knew was there, but had pushed away. He told himself that he’d revisit it at a more appropriate time, although that chance was nearly taken from him six floors above where he now stood.
Mason couldn’t focus on anything but her. Twenty minutes ago, these feelings would have bothered him, now he no longer cared. He was in it up to his neck and finally decided to just let it happen.
While his attention was centered for the most part on the group as a whole, over the last few months something else crept in. Something buried just deep enough that he was able to forget it was there… most of the time.
But not anymore, not with everything around him falling apart and not for one second longer. It was clear she was the reason, she was his reason.
Savannah.
With what was to come next, his first reaction was to go to her. To forsake the others and to get her out of the building, and as far from this city as possible. His instinct told him to go now, not five minutes from now, and not waiting for the others to pack up their supplies and walk systematically out of the building, but right this minute.
He could go to her and plead with her to leave. To do what was necessary to save the two of them. To get as far from this mess as they could, although she’d never leave these people.
And neither would he.
221
Watching the others rush to the doorway, he stayed behind. Jack finished the glass of water he was nursing as Randy, Megan, and Savannah converged on their injured friend. He scanned the room, noticing Cedric was still standing at the window and figured now was as good a time as any. The conversation he needed to have wasn’t going to be easy, although Jack had long since grown tired of taking the path of least resistance.
Cedric turned away from the window and grimaced as Jack approached. “So?”
Jack could sense that Cedric wasn’t comfortable with asking that they leave. His anxiety began manifesting itself in increasingly odd behavior as the minutes ticked away. He’d sent his son and wife to other parts of the building without asking when they’d return. He avoided eye contact with everyone in the room, although he continued to mumble to himself about how long he’d lived here without any issues.
“So,” Jack said. “I guess you want us out of here like yesterday, am I correct?”
Rubbing his temples with both hands, Cedric looked out into the street once again. “I just don’t want any problems. I’ve kept my family safe here since this thing first happened. I was able to do that because we didn’t get involved and we kept our heads down.”
“I understand your position. I’m just not sure why you came after us in the first place. You could have just left us out there in the parking garage to die and no one would have ever known. I guess I’m just having a hard time with your sudden change of heart.”
Cedric leaned in close. “I didn’t realize why you and your group were in the city. When we came out after you all, I only saw a small group of people that were in danger. There was no way we could’ve known the difficulties your people were having. If we’d have known that your people were in a war with those men on the other side of town, we’d have—”
“You’d have what, just turned a blind eye?”
“Not really.”
“I don’t blame you one bit,” Jack said. “I’ve just finally reunited with my wife and won’t let her out of my sight again. I won’t take any of the chances I took before today and won’t ever put anyone else’s needs before hers. She’s my priority and that’s all that matters from here on out.”
“Jack, am I being too cautious? I mean, I’d feel much safer knowing that those men had no intention of coming here, although everything inside me tells me I need to give your group some supplies and see you to the front door. Is that wrong?”
“The fact that you’re even questioning it tells me you’re struggling with the decision. Well, you shouldn’t. I don’t think Mason has any intention of staying and he’d never ask you to put your family in harm’s way just to save his hide. That’s not him.”
“Where do we go from here? I can’t just walk over and hand Mason his bags and say good riddance. Half the man’s hand was blown off just a few hours ago and he looks like he got hit by a truck, a big truck.”
“Just let it play out,” Jack said. “I think they’re discussing strategies for getting out of here now. I’ll bet they’re long gone before you even have a chance to ask them.”
Cedric shook his head. “I don’t understand, what do you mean, they’re long gone?”
Glancing back to the center of the room, Jack looked for reassurance that the others hadn’t overheard their conversation. “Well Cedric, there’s something I need to ask you.
“Yes I’m fine; I just needed to go back for something. I’m ready to get on the road.” Mason was confident his speech was convincing, even if he didn’t believe it. He told himself that once they were out of the city and found the safe haven only Sean and his father knew about, he’d rest. Things couldn’t get any worse, of this he was sure.
“You look like crap.” The smile plastered along Randy’s face seemed out of place, although Mason knew it was more the result of having Megan back than anything else.
“Yeah, let’s thank Cedric and head out. I believe Sean knows where we’re going.” Mason winced as he leaned to the left and made eye contact with the boy. “You ready?”
Seated along the wall and with his head between his knees, Sean looked up. “Me?”
Mason nodded. Although the accident on the roof could have been avoided had Sean done what he was asked, Mason knew the last thing the boy wanted was to hurt him. “Yeah, you’re gonna lead us out of here. You think you can handle that?”
Pushing away from the wall, Sean joined the others surrounding Mason. He didn’t really know what to say. While attempting to come up with something that would clear the air and not drudge up the events of a few hours ago, he simply said, “I’m sorry.”
Not responding to Sean directly, Mason shifted in his seat and offered his right hand. “Help me up? I think Cedric has given us more than enough time.”
Randy waved over Cedric and Jack as Megan, Savannah, and Eleanor began gathering their things. To Mason he said, “I’ll take Sean to the third floor suite, get our things, and meet you in the lobby. Fifteen minutes?”
“Sounds good,” Mason said.
As Cedric approached, it was apparent that he needed to say something; it just wasn’t what Mason was thinking. “I just spoke to Jack and—”
“Yeah, I know.”
“You know what?” Cedric asked.
Shifting his focus to Jack, Mason said, “It’s written all over your face. It has been since we left the beach. And now having Elizabeth back, I’m gonna venture to guess that you’re getting tired of running?”
“Yeah, I hope you understand. I just want to take care of her. We need to do what’s best for us.”
“I get it,” Mason said. “But why is Cedric coming to me? You guys moving in here?”
Cedric looked from Mason to Jack and back to Mason again. “Well, the way I see it, those men have no idea that Jack is here. They probably wouldn’t recognize Elizabeth either, even if she knocked on their front door. They aren’t going to come for them. No disrespect, but I think they just want you.”
Mason grinned. “You’re right. Jack and Elizabeth will probably be safe here once the rest of us leave, there’s just one thing.”
“What’s that?” Cedric asked.
<
br /> “Don’t you think they’ll come down on you just for allowing us to be here?”
“They don’t know what happened here. If it comes down to it, I’ll lie. I’ll tell them you forced your way in. I’ll do what I have to do, and so will you.”
“Then it’s settled,” Mason said.
Jack looked to the back of the room. “Mason, I do have another idea I’d like to run by you.”
“Yeah?”
“We think it may be a good idea for Sheila and the children to stay here with us.”
222
The shadows of late afternoon began to take control of the streets. Down the length of Sixth Street, the building looked much farther than it had earlier in the day. From his vantage point, he wasn’t sure if he’d even see them coming out the front doors, although their vehicle had yet to move. Tobias held the phone out and dialed the number yet again.
After the fourth ring, he stared at the display and began to clamp down on the phone. Taking a deep breath, he had to remind himself that shattering the phone into a thousand pieces along the darkened city street wouldn’t get him any closer to his prey. Tobias used what little restraint he was blessed with to press the end-call button and make the short trek back into the parking garage.
At the steps to the main building, he could see in through the open door. Cory sat behind the folding table, while the only other soldier still at Goodwin’s disposal stood near the far window staring out over Sixth Street. Tobias slammed the door back against its hinges and both men came to attention. “Where’s Marcus?”
Cory sat up straight and swallowed hard. “Haven’t seen him since you went outside. I think he’s in his office.”
The man at the window hadn’t yet acknowledged that Tobias entered the room and appeared to have ignored the question altogether. Tobias set the phone on the table and barked at the man in the corner. “MARVIN, ARE YOU LOST?”