No one spoke for a few minutes. No one knew what to say. Finally Mace said, "It's not a decision we necessarily have to make tonight. We can't just up and leave them anyway. If we do leave, we're going to have to figure out a way to help them out before we go."
From across the table, Jacqueline's voice rose steady and clear. "I'm staying." They all turned at once, surprised by the declaration. "I was trained to be a nurse," she said, addressing each of them. "It is my responsibility to help those in need, and I ain't gonna just leave these babies."
"I think you should think about it for a while," said Jade, studying her. "That is a mammoth responsibility."
"I know that, Jade. I grew up in a household with six other siblings. My momma had a lot of problems and I was the one that raised them. I had five kids myself before this shit hit the fan." She looked at Jade lovingly. "I don't know if that hole can ever be filled, but if it can, this will be the place for me to do it. Just help me to get this set up right and promise me one thing..."
Everyone remained silent, waiting for her to continue.
"You'll eventually come back here with the antidote. I want to make sure these kids have the best shot possible."
Mace responded slowly. "There's no guarantee we will even make it to Kansas. How could we promise to come back?"
Jacqueline smiled, feeling at peace with her decision. "I know you well, Mr. Mace Marconi, and I know that if you tell me you will try, I know that you will try. That would be good enough for me."
Mace smiled back briefly, grateful for her confidence in him. "It's not just that simple, though. Say we do make it to Kansas, we'll still need to create the antidote again. I was counting on your help to get that started. The only way we were able to pull that off before was because of Maria. None of us have that type of skill or knowledge."
Maria was a Kaiser nurse who had helped them create more antidote from the initial doses they had obtained through Father McCann.
"I haven't lost my faith and I have seen you grow in yours," said Jacqueline. "I know you wouldn't be back anytime soon. But I know you'd be back. If it took a year or even years, I know you'd come back." Her smile grew wider. "Just tell me if you make it there and are able to create more, you'll eventually try to come back for these kids."
Mace turned towards Jade, unsure how to answer.
"I don't feel like I can make this decision without you. You know me and you know what I would do."
Jade reached over and squeezed his hand. "This situation has just changed everything for me," she said. "I made a commitment to a small community of people without even knowing if they are still alive." She looked at Lisa and Yvette, and smiled. "We started this journey together, vowing to stay together no matter what." Turning to face Jacqueline, she continued. "We need to finish this journey to Kansas. I made a promise to someone and it is something I need to honor. It's the only thing we have left that means anything."
She paused for a second, gathering her thoughts before finishing. "Anywhere that you can find love becomes a home. I have come to love you like a sister, Jacqueline. If we make it to Kansas I will have my baby there. If Sarah Thompson is still alive we will find her and create more antidote. And if we survive all that, and once my baby is old enough to travel, I would risk it all to come back here for you and these kids." She cleared her throat, trying not to get emotional. "I have no right to make that commitment for anyone else, though, and it's not just up to me."
Jacqueline's eyes got blurry with tears. "Don't you make me cry now Jade. Just don't you make me cry." She started crying.
Squeezing Jade's hand back, Mace started to laugh. "This has got to be the craziest plan we could possibly come up with, but I'm in." He laughed even harder.
Shawn raised his hand. "What the hell, count me in, too. To be honest, Kansas just sounds so boring. Wyoming, on the other hand..."
"I want to come back too, mommy. I want to live with all these kids."
Lisa shook her head, amazed at what she was about to say. "If I had half a brain I would just stay here now, but there is no way I am going to miss the birth of your baby." She smiled at Jade. "If this is all we have left to give, then this is what we give." She kissed Chelsea on the cheek. "I never thought of anything more important than survival. Honor trumps it, though, hands down. We're in."
"Ditto," said Yvette looking towards Jim. "It's you and me, right?"
"Joined at the hip," he said immediately. He looked at Shawn and said quietly, "That damned shrinking dating pool."
Shawn and Yvette both started laughing. "Shut up, you dork'" she said between laughs.
Hannah, who had stayed completely quiet until this point, took on a look of desperation. Jacqueline noticed and said, "Han, are you okay? Why don't you stay here with me?"
Everyone turned towards her and Hannah shrank back in her seat. "No. No, I can't."
"Why not? We've been together for a long time. I could take care of you here."
Hannah's eyes turned wet as she struggled to keep herself together. "I just can't. I can't be around a lot of people. It wouldn't be safe for me to be around the kids." She suddenly stood. "I need to get out of here for a little while. Don't worry, I'll be back."
She left the room swiftly, heading out the back door to get some air.
"Will she be alright?" asked Jade.
"I don't know," said Jacqueline. "She's been struggling with her emotions ever since she was attacked. I've kept her on Valium, but I need to let you know that she won't have enough to make the whole trip. I've only got a handful left. I haven't told her yet."
"What can we expect?" Mace was instantly concerned. John's suicide had hit him hard. After getting bit with the antidote in his system, he had become unstable. The antidote had kept him from turning, but he had been unable to control his anger or sexual appetite and had murdered Maria in the middle of a sexual union. He had killed himself afterwards.
"It's really unknown at this point," said Jacqueline. "I think she's much more scared of what she might do then what she is actually capable of doing."
The antidote carried powerful side-effects once the infection was introduced. The teenage gang was so drawn to it they deliberately infected themselves after receiving it. In the end, it had led to their downfall.
The Turchett's all looked like they were going to be sick. "If we make it to Kansas there is no way we are turning back and I really don't give a shit about that Hannah woman. She talks about as much as those kids and is completely harmless. You people are seriously delusional and suicidal." They had come aboard after the showdown at the hospital and had no real clue about what was experienced.
"You are welcome to leave anytime you like," said Mace calmly, voicing the feelings of everyone in the room. "No one is holding you here hostage."
Paul started getting agitated. "The only reason we started on this journey with you is because we thought you had your shit together. There is safety in numbers and you aren't going to shake us until we reach Kansas. Just get us there and you can do any damn crazy thing that you like."
CHAPTER ELEVEN
The laughter was silly and exaggerated. Sarah stood in the kitchen listening, a goofy smile spreading across her face. It was so good to hear them laugh like that. It had been way too long.
Manny was with Bo and Brett in the living room, holding up a home-made bottle of hooch and saying with dramatic flair, "This is the best shit I ever made!"
Taking a large swig, he immediately gasped for air as it went down, his eyes bulging wide. The veins in his neck looked like they might pop as he shook his head briskly, trying to recover.
"Yeah!" he said hoarsely a moment later. "That will put some hair on your nuts!"
Manny was the compound chef. Being a line cook at Chili's had earned him the position. He'd been working for months on a still and couldn't wait to share his latest batch.
Cracking up at his reaction, Bo snagged the jug away for him.
"Try," is all Manny could croa
k, wiping his eyes with the back of his hands.
"It can't be that bad," said Bo. He turned towards Brett, lifted the jug, and said, "To hairy nuts."
He swallowed hard, instantly regretting it. The burn was so intense and all-consuming he gasped for air as it scorched through him.
Brett and Manny were doubled over with laughter as they witnessed his reaction.
Pounding his fist on the table, Bo choked and wheezed, trying to catch his breath. "Wow," he finally croaked.
"I told you!" said Manny, a drunken smile stretched wide across his face.
Sarah couldn't help herself and walked into the living room to examine them a half-an-hour later. She started laughing immediately as they tried hard to look sober when she appeared, their glossy eyes and barely contained smiles a sure giveaway that they were certainly not.
"You're hammered!" she said laughingly, gazing at all of them.
"And you're beautiful, Mrs. T!" Manny looked at her with a big, genuine smile. "If this guy ever stops taking good care of you just let me know," he said lazily, reaching over and slapping Bo on the knee. He turned back towards Sarah. "I need a good woman like you in my life."
Sarah started laughing. "You got a deal, Manny. If Bo here doesn't watch himself we're gonna make our own private love nest.” She winked at him. “What do you have to say about that, Mr. Thompson?"
Bo couldn't help himself and just started twittering like a little girl.
In their old life neither she nor Bo ever drank. It hadn't been a lifestyle choice, it was just that neither one of them ever had the desire. Now Bo would get together with Manny and Brett at least twice a month to try out a new batch and blow off some steam. It was fine with her. They needed it.
She put her hands on her hips and said, "Bo Leon Thompson, I tell you I may run away with another man and all you can do is twitter like a little girl?"
Bo started twittering harder and the men all exploded with laughter. Manny almost fell out of his seat, causing them all to laugh even more.
The chef in Manny kicked in and he roared, "Bo Leon Thompson? BLT? Dude, you're like a sandwich!"
That set off a new wave of hysteria that caused Manny to actually fall out of his chair this time.
Sarah shook her head and walked away, trying hard not to laugh until she got back in the kitchen. They were all going to be hurting tomorrow.
Two nights later, Bo spoke soothingly to Sarah as he gently coddled her in his arms. Her sobs began to diminish and he said softly, “It’s over, baby. It’s over.”
He didn't want to push her for details. He knew they'd come soon enough.
Sarah clutched him tightly. “I’m scared, Bo. I don’t know what to do.” A long silence filled the room until the words just starting pouring out.
"I saw myself standing in a burning field. There were flames all around me. I don't know if I was on fire or not." She paused for a second, holding her breath, trying to keep the tears back. "Then I saw myself naked and there was blood pouring down my legs."
The shock Bo was feeling kept him from uttering a single word. He understood that her visions were often symbolic and not literal, but the direction this was leading was frightening.
"The next thing I saw I was holding the baby in a blanket. I looked down at its face and its eyes we're bright red. It shrieked at me."
Neither one of them said anything for a moment.
Sarah looked up at Bo and could see the pain and fear in his eyes as he tried to appear calm.
"I think I'm going to lose the baby. I'm not even sure if either one of us is going to survive what's coming." She stared at him intently, wanting to share with him the vision she had seen of him on the ground with blood pooled around his head. She couldn't. She started to weep instead.
Bo held her tightly, fighting to keep his own emotions in check. “We’ll do whatever we have to, Sarah. We always do. Nothing is going to separate us. Nothing. Ever. And nothing is going to happen to our baby. I want you to run to the cellar if the compound is ever breached. Run. If you ever hear the warning sound, you run, you hear me?”
Sarah looked completely drained. “I will. I promise.”
"There is also nothing that says these visions are truth."
Sarah just nodded sadly, staring into space, not sure what to believe.
Inside the industrial plant, the metamorphosis had finished its course. Gooey secretions covered the surface of the vats as seven wriggling, altered bodies found their legs for the first time underwater. Small pieces of skin floated in silken-like fragments at the top of the tank. Their flesh was thinner in spots where the skin had lifted away after bubbling, leaving dark purple sores that covered their faces and bodies.
Their faces themselves were a grotesque mockery of humanity: Eyes that bulged far out of their sockets due to the aggressive swelling of their facial muscles. They were blood red and twitched manically in all directions, surveying their surroundings. The bones in their foreheads and jaws had grown much thicker, exaggerating their facial features to a Frankenstein-ish level.
Each now stood, breaking the liquid’s surface with dramatic flair, roaring in outrage at their existence. Their limbs were now much thicker and spring-like: Strong femurs and tibia allowed for quick action in all directions, as well as high leaping ability. The alien proteins, reacting with the synthetic growth hormones, had dramatically increased their body mass and strength, and their monstrous appearance was only matched by the overwhelming need to destroy anything that crossed their path.
“Oh my God, not again,” wheezed Travis as he threw up violently in the toilet for the fifteenth time. He could barely catch his breath before another wave of nausea overcame him and he sprayed whatever was left into the bowl. He hadn’t felt this bad in years. Seven days after returning triumphantly from the theaters, he couldn’t even relish the celebrity. Brett was getting all the damn praise. He was burning up with fever and his head felt like it was baking in a microwave. He needed a woman to take care of him. He was terrible when sick, and these were the times when he missed one the most.
In his sickness, he opened a door to his heart that had slammed shut three years earlier. “I might be coming home, Margaret,” he stated weakly, staring at the ceiling. Three years earlier, his wife and three daughters had planned a girl’s night out. They were going to the movies to see the latest big budget romantic comedy. He couldn’t even remember the name of the film, only that they were all excited, even their youngest, Alice, who was only eight at the time. It was mid-March and rainy outside, but they weren’t about to let a little wet weather ruin their plans.
They hadn’t gone but two miles when the rain turned from sprinkles to sheets, and a UPS delivery truck lost control on the slick pavement. They never knew what hit them. Neither did Travis.
Unable to deal with the pain, he closed himself off and starting building an arsenal of weapons, focusing on survival techniques. The more weapons he possessed and the more skill he acquired using them, the more control he felt like he gained back over his life. He took down every picture of his family, incapable of facing the truth. In honor of their memory, he started using their names in sarcastic or inappropriate situations, the only way he could acknowledge them without a flood of emotions overtaking him.
No one in the compound knew Travis’ story. Brett, however, was deeply concerned about his sickness. The only one that Travis would let inside his home, he watched him get worse every day. Travis made him promise not to tell anyone and he respected his wishes. He secretly obtained antibiotics and flu medicine, but he had a hunch that this was much worse than just the flu.
His fears grew worse every time he saw him. He never mentioned it to Travis. He had too much respect for him. He could only stand outside. And wait…
At 1:50 am, Travis began to hallucinate. “Come here, girls,” he said in a raspy wheeze. As thick goblets of sweat gathered on his body, his girls appeared teary-eyed before him. “Give your dad a hug. It’s just a short busin
ess trip. I’ll be back before you know it.” In his mind, he was working through their absence.
They hadn’t left him.
He was the one going away.
He would see them again in a few days. He hugged each one closely.
A little after 2:00 am it happened. Brett heard the cries of pain and rapid convulsions pierce the silence of the night. Brett had been sleeping outside the front door, resting his head against the door and Travis’ final moments had awakened him.
He knew.
And he feared.
Before walking inside, he opened up the gym bag he kept with him whenever he went near Travis. He wasn’t sure if he was sick now as well, but it didn’t matter. If they all perished, it was what it was. He finally slipped on the MSA hooded canister mask he’d picked up at Home Depot a few days earlier. He was sure at this point the infection could be transmitted through the air.
He walked into Travis’ bedroom, his flashlight scanning the room for any disturbance. When the light settled on the figure in the bed, he took a deep breath: And waited. Travis hadn’t gone quietly. His body was contorted, his eyes and mouth were bulged wide, frozen in a gruesome death mask. His eyes had turned blood red.
Brett wondered how long it would take. He didn’t have to wait long. Travis, who moments ago had given up his spirit, suddenly sat right up and stared at him. The sound that uttered from his gut was the stuff of children’s nightmares. Brett felt like crying, but steadied the Korth .38 in his right hand at Travis’ head, while the flashlight began to shake in his left. He didn’t blink. He didn’t breathe. He thought he would burn up under the hood.
Travis lurched, and Brett fired: Three rounds, the gun fire momentarily lighting up the room. Each shot leaving a dark splotch of red on Travis’ face. Brett stared at what was left, the corners of his mouth held tight, eyes holding back the tears. He turned and walked out of the room, throwing off the mask as he stepped outside. He bent down and started to heave, throwing up until there nothing was left but dry heaves.
Value of Jade (Mace of the Apocalypse #2) Page 10