Rachel stood completely and shook her hair back, her hands staying at her side. “I couldn’t get in. Scott locked his door.” She thrust a hand half-heartedly on her hip. “Can you believe that?”
As Rachel advanced, Cady backed up, heading toward the door and the meager light outside which was more than what was inside Scott’s house.
“This isn’t your house. Why did you need to get in?” Cady felt like she was talking to a three-year-old, trying to pry every necessary detail from the woman.
“I’m hungry. The kids are all dead. I fed them everything we had. I…” She stopped talking but continued following Cady outside. The sickly, sweet scent of cannabis mixed with the acidic aroma of whiskey came off Rachel in waves, pushing Cady back further.
Grimacing, Cady scanned Rachel for signs of injury, wincing as her neighbor came more into the light. Her face was covered with the pox, some beginning to weep and others looking about to burst. A cluster had almost completely closed her right eye and she licked her rashy lips with a small tongue.
The drug and alcohol could explain the numbness in her voice.
Cady shook her head, coming to a stop on the grass. “I’m so sorry for your loss, Rachel. That had to be awful. Is there anything I can do?” The trauma that Rachel had to undergo was mind-boggling. How could she survive that? Cady was so worried about Bailey’s vaccine working, she’d forgotten to be grateful that she’d even had the opportunity to take a vaccine.
Rachel laughed, a tear working its way from her open eye. She stopped advancing when Cady quit moving. She half-turned back to the protection of the porch, staying under the covering as if the air hurt her skin.
Cady wouldn’t be surprised, if it did.
She’d exposed herself to Rachel’s germs. She hadn’t been thinking. If the virus was air born, she’d have it. There was no getting around being inside an enclosed environment. The germs would have filled the room.
Rachel didn’t stop chuckling. She avoided touching her face, shaking her head as she lowered herself to the steps of the porch. “Nothing. There is nothing you can do. I tried that ‘Cure’ on the kids. It didn’t work. They felt good for a little bit. Oh, Cady,” She twisted her lips to the side. “You should’ve seen them. They were smiling for the first time in what felt like forever, but was… just a few days. Days.” She looked down at her hands. Her one eye had the look of being haunted. She shook her head and her shoulders slumped forward. “But then…”
Cady nodded, choking back her own tears. She could only imagine what had happened next. There was no doubt in her mind that Kent had used the Cure and he’d gone insane. “Rachel, did you use the Cure? Or touch it?” Was Rachel in danger of going the way her children had?
“I used gloves. My symptoms weren’t bad enough to waste the Cure on me. I used it all on them. I didn’t want to live, if they…” She sniffed, her tears coming faster, and she moaned. The sound came from deep in her gut, like her soul keened for her loss.
“What can I do?” Cady’s whispered plea seemed to fall on deaf ears until Rachel pushed herself up from the steps. She reached into her pocket and pulled out a gun. “Can you… would you kill me? Would you do that for me?” She didn’t step closer to Cady, as if she knew her actions were very threatening. She reached up and rubbed at her nose, breaking open a few sores on her face and releasing their contents to smear across her skin.
Cady swallowed back the nausea creeping up her throat. She couldn’t say she was sickened by the sight of the pox bursting open or that Rachel had asked to be killed. The combination of the two was a sobering combination. “Where did you get that?” The weapon looked like one of Scott’s standbys.
A sob tore from Rachel and she lifted the gun and waved it in the air. “I found this in his nightstand. I looked all over for him, but he was gone… I even loaded it, Cady. He was supposed to be here. He could have done it. He could have shot me as I walked away. I… but you’re here. You can help me. I don’t want to be abandoned by my church.” She cried openly, her pain evidently tearing her apart.
Cady’s eyes widened. Rachel was Catholic. She remembered attending Mass with her neighbor once a while back. She nodded, but didn’t back down. “Rachel. I don’t want to kill you. I understand why you want to die. I do. But there has to be another way out of this. You have to be able to fix this.”
Of course, Rachel didn’t want to live anymore. She’d watched her children die and was in more pain than Cady could imagine. Cady would want to die, too. It wouldn’t be hard for Cady to think up just how scared and alone Rachel had to be feeling.
Rachel stared at the ground. “I don’t want to try anymore. I… Please, Cady, please, do this for me. Please. I forgive you in advance… I can’t keep living like this. I need… please.” Her face contorted, her features pinkening and whitening in spots as she moved her mouth and cheeks.
Cady sobbed, unable to fight Rachel’s desperation, but unable to kill her. “I… please. I can’t, Rachel. I…” How did she tell her friend that she’d already killed Kent because he’d tried hurting her? She couldn’t say that. She couldn’t give Rachel any ideas.
Rachel wouldn’t kill herself. If Cady didn’t do it, then Rachel would be forced to try to live, to try to keep going.
With a shaky voice, Rachel said, “You’re right. I’m sorry. You’re right.” She nodded in a jerky motion, her hair moving. “I just…” In the next second, she lifted the gun, pressed it to her temple and squeezed the trigger.
Cady jolted forward and then back at the sound of the gun. Blood and bits splattered toward her.
She coughed slowly in disbelief. Her sobs and tears came with a slow resignation. Almost as if dragged down by a weight tied to her neck, Cady sank to her knees, her shoulders shaking.
Was that how she would have to go out? Was that what she had to look forward to? She stared at Rachel’s lifeless body. How had a woman like Rachel earned the ending she’d gotten? She hadn’t. That was the sad truth of the matter.
That was the future Cady deserved. Nothing less.
Chapter 7
Scott
Yards from pulling into the driveway to his place, Scott reached across and patted Jason’s arm. He slowed his maniacal speed, abashed that he’d driven like the van still chased them all the way up US95 and through the town of Athol.
He’d ignored the red fliers fluttering from people’s doorknobs. He assumed he didn’t want to know. They matched the other fliers they’d seen in Coeur d’Alene, Hayden, and the other towns they’d passed through to get home.
Scott just wanted to get to the comfort of his house. The relative safety of it. He knew where everything was. He knew what to expect. The weaknesses and the strengths were all second-nature to him. Getting back there before he got too sick was all that mattered.
His eyes were itchy and his throat hurt. He couldn’t tell if his aches were because he was fighting the emotional torrent he’d been under since he’d found out about the virus, or if he was getting sick. He glanced at Jason, whose skin was clear and rash free, but whose eyes were red-rimmed. He continually sniffed, like he too was affected by having to abandon Ranger.
That’s what Scott would hold onto. He wasn’t sure he could survive the torrential despair of losing another person to the virus. Jason and Jessica were all he had left and he couldn’t fail his mom by losing them to the disease.
A gun shot split through the sound of the Bronco’s RPMs.
Scott didn’t slow down as he turned into his driveway. He barely put it into neutral as he jumped from the rig at the sight of Cady slumping to a kneeling position on his lawn.
“Cady!” He stopped and turned back to Jason, keeping his voice low. “Get the baby and go hide in the coop. Don’t ask questions. It’s the safest place right now. I’ll come and get you when I know it’s safe.” Scott didn’t wait for Jason to agree. The boy was smart and didn’t seem to question Scott’s suggestions. As well he shouldn’t, since Scott was charged with m
aking sure his niece and nephew stayed alive.
Jason slipped from the cab, carrying the small baby who continued to sleep with a full belly and a clean diaper he’d been careful to take care of as they’d approached Scott’s place. Scott watched him disappear around the side of the house, nervous for the next few minutes.
Was Cady dead? Scott approached her slowly from the side of the garage. She stayed in a kneeling position, a gun in her hands. Had she killed herself? He’d just talked to her on the phone that morning. She hadn’t sounded desperate enough to take her own life. Why would she do that?
He searched her for a clue to what had happened.
Staring at something in front of her, Cady’s chest barely rose and fell as she breathed. She was alive. Scott’s relief allowed him to try to take in more of the scene.
Specks of blood had landed on Cady’s face, shirt, and hands. She hadn’t been hit. The blood wasn’t hers.
Scott strode the final steps to crouch beside her. He reached up, feeling for a pulse, but he really just wanted to touch her and make sure she was alive and real. Over the last few days, Scott hadn’t believed he would make it home, let alone see Cady again. There he was and it was almost more than he could bear.
She didn’t even look at him, just stared straight ahead at something. When he touched her, she didn’t flinch or acknowledge him. Her gaze was resolute.
Scott turned, closing his eyes at the sight of their neighbor, Rachel, lying dead on the grass. The virus had disfigured her quiet beauty. Something truly horrific had to have forced her to kill herself. The circumstances most likely surrounded her children. She would do anything for them. To kill herself would never be an option, unless they were gone.
The death of more children brought Scott’s sins to the forefront of his mind and closed his eyes tightly to push them away. His sanity relied on dwelling on something besides his loss, his actions, the world’s disasters.
Gathering his control around him like an emotional armor, Scott took a deep breath and let it out. Turning back to Cady, he reached out and brushed her hair from her face. “Cady, look at me. Cady.” He waited for a moment and she finally looked at him, her eyes hopeless as she worked to focus on him.
After a moment, realization crossed her features and she reached out, clutching his shirt in shaking hands. “Scott…” She shook her head, her eyes flicking to the side as she tried to take in the image again, but she redirected, looking at Scott’s face as if she were starving for a sign of life. “You’re here. You made it. I…” Cady licked her lips, her eyes unable to focus. “Rachel… she broke into your house. She’s infected.” Blinking rapidly, Cady took a deep breath.
“It’s okay. It’s alright. She’s gone. Did she…” Scott didn’t know how to ask Cady how close she’d been to having to put down another one of their neighbors. He hadn’t really dealt with the fact that she’d killed Kent, just like he hadn’t been able to process the fact that he’d killed all those children and that nurse in the hospital. There was a lot of desperate acts being made and Scott wasn’t sure just what he could hold himself accountable for anymore.
“I’m glad you’re back.” She swallowed, the sincerity in her tone warming him. She waved her hand in the general direction of the garage. “I brought your stuff. I did good not getting exposed, until…” She jerked her chin over Scott’s shoulder but kept her focus on his face. “Now that I’m for sure exposed, Scott, how will I keep Bailey safe now?”
“Bailey hasn’t been exposed yet?” He nodded, the urgency to keep Cady’s daughter free from the virus apparent. “Okay, we’ll steer clear. I don’t want her getting sick, if we can help it. I’ll let Jason know.” He hadn’t realized that Bailey had been protected that long. Cady had done well.
Cady looked around, craning her neck to see inside his Bronco. “Where’s your nephew and niece? It’ll be hard to keep Bailey away from the baby.” She sideways grinned at him, careful not to wipe blood on him as she moved to a kneeling position.
“I sent them to the coop at the sound of the gunshot. It’s the safest place since it has a backdoor that opens into the forest. He can run out, if he needs to.” Scott furrowed his brow at the panicked pallor draining Cady’s face of color. “What’s wrong?” He reached out to steady her in case she passed out.
“No, that’s where I sent Bailey.” Cady jumped to her feet, clutching her neck and smearing Rachel’s blood across her skin. She raised her voice, her eyes wide with dread. “What have you done?”
Scott hadn’t thought things could get worse, but every second seemed to bring new pain.
Chapter 8
Bailey
After her mom ducked around the corner, Bailey closed her eyes and turned, pressing her back against the well-insulated soft green wall. Would things ever go back to the way they were? She missed her friends and school and just the freedom to go to the store to help with errands.
She was trying so hard not to cry or show she was weak to her mom. Her mom seemed so strong… the last thing Bailey wanted was for her mom to be ashamed of her. Bailey couldn’t cry about losing her dad, or that they didn’t know where her grandparents were, or even what her friends were doing. None of her friends answered their phones. She was stranded in some kind of a weird dimension where everyone would wake up and realize they were all wrong.
Even as she imagined it, she’d never felt more wrong. Bailey wasn’t trapped in an alternate reality. She was trapped in her life, stuck, and soon her mom would get sick and then Bailey would be alone.
The coop smelled of fresh hay and paint. Scott was a perfectionist and overly maintained his things. Even the chickens had been cleaner than any animal Bailey had seen before and they had healthy birds themselves.
Bailey clenched her gun in her hand, making sure to keep her finger off the trigger. What would Dad think, if he saw her now? She was so far from feminine it was scary. Thinking of Dad led to more thoughts of Mom.
What did Mom mean by the vaccine might not have taken hold? That was ridiculous. When you got vaccines at the doctors they never warned you to stay in your house until the vaccine had time to take hold. Maybe it was just another way Mom was trying to smother Bailey under her protection.
Forcibly giving Bailey the shot had been almost unforgivable. The only thing that kept it redeemable was the fact that Mom had done it out of love. She just wanted Bailey to live.
Bailey got that.
She sank onto the bench beside the door, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Hanging her head, she leaned over.
A gunshot broke through the silence of the padded building and she jerked to her feet. Pushing up against the wall, Bailey held her gun with trembling fingers. Who had shot? Mom or someone else?
Bailey tried to breathe, but she couldn’t hear with her ragged breaths cutting through the silence. Nothing followed and Bailey’s palms grew damp. What was she going to do, if it was anyone but her mother? Could she kill someone? She wasn’t even fourteen, yet. Her birthday was soon and she didn’t want to miss it, but was that enough to kill someone?
No, but to shoot someone, all she had to know was if her mom was in danger. Maybe Bailey could do it then. Maybe she could face someone else and shoot them, if she needed to. She hadn’t been able to shoot Kent when he’d attacked her mom. She’d been good at screaming, then, but nothing else.
She leaned back, pressing her shoulder blades into the wall. What was she going to do? Did she run out the back of the coop? Where did she go? Scott was supposed to be there soon. Would he be able to save her or her mom? Maybe Cady had been forced to shoot someone else. That would be two killings in one day.
Her poor mom. Cady wallowed in her guilt. She always seemed to over-think things.
The crunch of footsteps on rocks reached Bailey, growing louder as the person reached the coop. The door opened and Bailey stared toward the opening with wide eyes. Who would step through? She gripped the butt of her gun, her teeth chattering as if she were col
d. Panting, Bailey waited to see who was coming in. Why hadn’t Cady said anything? Was she okay? Cady would have called out to her or something… wouldn’t she?
A young man walked through the door, closing the panel behind him. Something in his left arm took the majority of his care. He murmured something, lowering his face.
Bailey lifted her gun, aiming it at the center of his chest. “Don’t move.” Had he heard the tremor in her voice? She wouldn’t scare a butterfly. Hopefully, she lived long enough to work on her intimidation skills.
He stopped, raising his gaze from the bundle in his arms. He swallowed, taking in her appearance and then focusing on the gun in her hand. Carefully, he shook his head. “Whoa, wait, it’s okay. I’m not here to hurt you.”
Bailey licked her lips. She had to take charge of the moment. She could it. She lifted her chin and demanded, “Who are you?”
“I’m Scott’s nephew. Who are you?” His voice was deep like it had already changed and there was something in the way he held himself that suggested he was comfortable inside or outside. He probably liked camping and reading. Both ideas Bailey could get on board with.
It wasn’t a dating show, but she liked the way he looked enough to pretend he was a good guy. Plus, he’d claimed to be Scott’s nephew, but she didn’t see Scott anywhere.
She blinked slowly, lowering the gun. The combination of his answer and his attractiveness were very well-placed weapons. If he was lying, she’d die and she almost didn’t care. “I’m Scott’s neighbor.”
The suspicion left his gaze and he smiled. “Scott said we might not see you right away. When I asked him how old you were, he said he didn’t know. It’ll be good to have someone my age to hang out with. I feel so isolated.” He peeked at her from behind his thick lashes. After a moment he held a baby toward Bailey. “This is my cousin. Her name is Jessica.”
180 Days and Counting... Series Box Set books 4 - 6 Page 5