She opened her eyes and saw the red-haired man on top of her, pinning her to the ground. He was struggling to undo his large belt underneath his huge, fat stomach. With horror, Lorie immediately knew what the man was trying to do. She couldn’t scream or even move her body because of the overbearing weight on top of her. He was literally crushing her to death. She couldn’t breathe.
Seeing her conscious, the red-haired man smiled at her with dirty, yellow teeth while still trying to release his belt with one hand. His other hand had her arms pinned to the floor above her head.
“Ain’t you a purty girl,” he slobbered, licking her cheek with his awful tongue.
His breath made her want to vomit. She smelled a mixture of cigarette smoke, alcohol, and foul breath. His unshaven face made him look even more sinister. She tried to squirm and break loose, but it was of no use.
“Aren’t we goin’ to have fun? My brother can have all the fun he wants to with you after he finishes off your boyfriend. But I’m first to have fun.”
Michael! she thought suddenly.
The large pig on top of her finally got his belt loose, and then she felt his disgusting fingers dig between her waistband and skin, trying to pull her jeans off.
Her mind became a desperate flurry of activity—from the red bandana gang to the loss of her parents. She thought of all the evil running around uncontrolled out there with no one to stand in the way. Innocent people were being tortured, abused, and killed. Then, her mind flashed to her parents; her loving, caring parents who were now resting in the soil. They never did anything wrong to anyone. They were two of the innocents. It wasn’t fair! The whole world wasn’t fair!
Her thoughts swirled into a raging anger that she had never experienced before. This ugly thing was not going to use her like this. She’d rather die than give an inch. With her anger came unexpected clarity. She suddenly appreciated the pain in the small of her back. She remembered the gun she had tucked away.
With all her strength, she heaved her back up. She brought her knee up as hard as she could.
Caught by surprise, the red-haired man was lifted just a few inches up, not enough to toss him off, but enough so that when Lorie’s thigh came up between his legs, he felt it. Groaning from pain, the fat man rolled off Lorie, holding on to himself. As she scrambled up from the floor, he looked up at her with venomous hatred.
“You bitch!” he growled, reaching for his gun.
Without breaking stride, Lorie reached around and pulled her revolver from where it was hidden in her waistband. “No,” she said. “I’m not anybody’s bitch!”
Michael burst through the back door, ready to fire at anything that moved. Then, he saw Lorie standing over the body of a large man. Her revolver was pointed at the intruder, and Michael heard the click, click, click as she continued to pull the trigger even though it was empty.
She looked up slowly and saw Michael standing in the doorway. “Michael!” she cried with relief.
He could see the blood in her blond hair; she looked like she was going to faint.
He crossed the room quickly and caught her up in his arms.
She dropped the gun on the floor and threw her arms around him. He held her as tight as he dared without hurting her. She started to sob, and her whole body shook uncontrollably. Michael said nothing, just continued to hold her close. After some time, her sobs tapered off, and he guided her to the nearest chair to examine her head. He carefully separated her sticky blood-soaked hair. It looked like she had received a nasty cut, but otherwise she would be okay.
After cleaning up her wound with items he retrieved from the bathroom medicine cabinet, Michael put some antibiotic cream on the gash and covered it with a sterile gauze pad. As he finished with his doctoring skills, Lorie became a little unsteady and had a funny, distant look in her eyes.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.
“I feel a little woozy,” she replied. Then a second later she announced, “I feel queasy and like I’m going to faint.”
He led her slowly to his sister’s bedroom. She was still shaky and could barely walk. Exhausted and drained, she let him help her get into bed.
Making sure that she was going to be okay, Michael tucked her in and told her to rest. “I’ll be right back,” he told her as he turned to leave.
“Don’t leave me!” she pleaded. She sounded groggy.
The sad desperation in her voice made him turn around. He knelt on the floor beside the bed and gently stroked her hair, making sure not to touch the area around her wound. Sandy lay down at the side of the bed. He stayed there patiently until her eyes closed and her breathing became deep and regular. He couldn’t keep his eyes off of her beautiful face. The bloody bandage on her head made him angry. Why does evil hate anything that’s good and lovely? he wondered. When her breathing became steady and regular, he got up as quietly as he could and started to leave the room.
For the first time, Sandy didn’t get up and follow him. He looked back at the border collie, and she looked at him. It was as if she were saying, “Don’t worry; I’ll stay here and protect her.” Michael smiled to himself and left the room, leaving Sandy to guard the sleeping woman.
He collected all the firearms, including Lorie’s and the intruders’ two guns. They both had 9mm semiautomatic pistols with a black finish. The magazines were full, and Michael searched and found more 9mm ammunition in their pockets. From the smell of both men, he wished he had taken the time to put on gloves and a mask. He might have avoided coming down with the flu, but he wasn’t sure what he might catch from these guys.
Making sure that the safeties were on, he placed both guns in his waistband just like Lorie had done with her gun. It wasn’t the safest way to carry a gun. He made a quick mental note that he would have to find some real holsters. He then reloaded Lorie’s revolver, quietly went into the bedroom, and placed the gun on the nightstand. She was still soundly asleep, and Michael was extra careful not to wake her. He gave Sandy’s head a little rub and left the bedroom for the second time.
Then, Michael went into the garage. The first thing he noticed when he entered was that the garage door was still up. Dejected, he realized that this whole incident had been his own fault. In his excitement at arriving home, he had forgotten to close the garage door. Those creeps must have seen a golden opportunity. Michael might as well have rolled out a red carpet. Cursing himself, he proceeded to empty the truck bed of their remaining supplies. With all the truck’s contents on the garage floor, he went back inside.
With much straining and difficulty, Michael dragged the two bodies to the truck, one at a time. He didn’t know how, but he managed to get the heavy bodies into the truck bed. Massaging his sore back, Michael went back into the room where Lorie had been attacked. Using towels and a disinfectant spray he found under the sink, he did his best to clean up any reminder of what had happened.
He checked Lorie once more. She hadn’t moved. Debating with himself about what to do next, Michael came to a decision. Picking up his rifle, he went back into the garage and started up the truck. He backed it out, closed the garage door and drove to the end of the street, keeping his house under constant surveillance in his rearview mirror. Reaching the intersection, he turned the truck to the right.
A home just off to his right had a large dumpster in the back. The metal container was partially filled with pieces of drywall, broken tile, and other debris. From what his parents had told him, the previous owners had bought more house than they could afford and, in an attempt to flip it for a quick profit, had been doing renovations. Running out of money and with the bank threatening to foreclose, the people had packed up and left. His parents hoped that someone else would come along, purchase the house, and clean it up.
He drove into the yard and backed the truck up to the dumpster. Lowering the tailgate, he then rolled the two bodies unceremoniously out of the truck into the dumpster. They made a satisfying thud as they hit the garbage. Ashes to ashes … dust
to dust …trash to trash.
Having granted the intruders the burial they rightly deserved, Michael quickly brought the truck back to his house and made doubly sure that he closed the garage door and locked it. After checking in on Lorie, who was still asleep, he went methodically through the house checking all the windows and doors. Everything was secure.
Finally, he went out the back door and walked to the side of the house furthest from the garage. There, he bent behind some hedges along the wall and flipped a series of switches before pressing a button with his thumb. He heard a small, barely audible humming. Satisfied, he went back into the house. He locked and braced the back door and then opened the door leading to the basement.
The steps descended until they were swallowed up by darkness. He stood momentarily at the top of the stairs, remembering the days as a child when he was afraid to go down there. He was still a little uneasy about the basement, but he wasn’t about to let childish fears get the better of him now. He went down the steps, crossed to the far wall, and opened the breaker box. Flipping a large switch, he was relieved he wasn’t electrocuted. Retracing his steps, he returned to the main floor and closed the basement door behind him.
He stopped, realizing how wrong he had been that last couple of years. His parents had been right all along. He was suddenly very proud of them. Despite other people making fun of them and calling them crazy for being preppers, they had ignored the ridicule and forged ahead. Not only were they protecting themselves, but they were also protecting their children. His parents were not overbearing and controlling as he previously assumed. They were merely loving parents who wanted the best for their kids. It was Michael who had been wrong all along. He had been rebellious and stubborn. He had been stupid. Tears formed in his eyes as he realized just how much he both missed and loved his parents.
Lorie soon woke up. Michael was relieved to see that she seemed normal. Despite the matted not-so-blond hair on her right side, her eyes looked sharp and clear, not glazed over and distant like they had before.
“How are you feeling?” Michael asked as she propped herself up on the pillow.
She winced as she touched the bandage on her head. “Now I know how you felt after your encounter with Crazy Ted.”
He chuckled. She was going to be fine.
“What about those two creeps?” she asked, suddenly concerned. Her voice had a tinge of fear in it.
“They’re both dead. You really impressed me back there. You’re a tough girl.”
“They’re both dead? You mean I…killed someone?”
Sandy whimpered and gave her hand a short lick.
“You had to—just like I had to. You had no choice,” he said, remembering his initial reaction after he had shot Crazy Ted.
“Where are they now?” she asked.
“Don’t worry. I took care of them. We’re completely safe.”
“If they got in, how can we be safe?” she asked.
Michael swallowed the lump that formed in his throat. “I’m sorry, Lorie. It was completely my fault. I screwed up. I forgot to close and lock the garage door.”
Lorie took his hand in her own. “It’s not your fault, Michael. Things happen. You’ve done so well keeping everyone safe…especially me.”
Whenever she touched him like this, he felt an electrical charge surge through his body. It was like every nerve fiber he had was on fire. Just like now. “One mistake is all it takes,” Michael said, not allowing her to let him off the hook.
“Like I said,” Lorie repeated, squeezing his hand, “it’s not your fault. If you need to blame someone, blame those creeps who broke in. It’s their fault that this happened.”
Michael looked down at his hand enclosed by hers. She had such delicate fingers. He never wanted to see her hurt again. “I do have something to show you that may help you forgive me,” he said, standing up.
Sitting up, Lorie tried to grab his hand again, but he moved away. “Michael, there’s nothing to forgive!”
He crossed to the bedroom doorway and turned to face her. She was confused by the big smile he had on his face. He reached out with his right hand and flipped a switch. The overhead light came on, and the ceiling fan started to rotate.
Lorie cried out with glee. Laughing and watching the overhead fan start to speed up, she beamed at Michael. “We have electricity?”
“Yes.”
“But how? Is all the electricity back on?”
“No,” he replied. “Just us.”
“How?” she asked again.
“My parents had a whole-house generator installed a few years back after a category four tornado left all these homes without electricity for days. It was very expensive, and they had to pay even more to insulate it from noise so the neighbors wouldn’t complain.”
“What makes it run?”
“It runs on propane. We have a huge—I mean, huge—propane tank buried out in the backyard. We can probably run the generator for weeks, or even months, on that tank.”
“Oh my!” Lorie exclaimed, still looking at the lights in disbelief.
“And one more thing,” Michael said, smiling. “We have a well pump hooked up to the generator too.”
“So, you’re telling me that we have running water?”
“Yes.”
“Hot water?”
“Yes.”
“Hot shower?” She looked at him expectantly.
“Yes,” he answered again. He had never seen her smile so big. Despite her injury, she jumped up from the bed, dashed across the room, and gave Michael a big hug. His happiness shifted to concern as she started to sway to one side.
“I shouldn’t have jumped up so fast,” she admitted as her dizziness began to subside.
“No, you shouldn’t have,” Michael said as he led her back to the bed. “You need to take it easy for a while until you heal. Don’t worry about anything. Just rest.”
“You know you aren’t going to stop me from taking a nice, long, hot shower, right?”
“I wouldn’t even dare to think about getting in your way,” Michael replied. “The tub in the master bath might be a better option for you. You don’t want to get that wound wet just yet.”
“That sounds great,” Lorie said dreamily.
“I’ll try to make something for us to eat. Just pray that it’s edible.”
He left her in the bedroom and went to the kitchen. Although everything in the refrigerator and freezer was spoiled, his parents had a small supply of freeze-dried and canned food stored in the basement. He was sure they had taken what they could pack with them, but there should still be some food left. And now, with running water and a working stove, he might be able to successfully whip up a nontoxic meal…other than macaroni and cheese.
While trying to get a meal together, he heard Lorie get up and cross over into the master bedroom. He heard the water run as she filled the Roman tub. Smiling to himself, he figured that Lorie would be in seventh heaven about now. Good, he thought, she deserves a break from this insanity.
He looked out the back door and saw that night was falling. Lorie was still preoccupied in the bathtub, so Michael went through the house and turned on a few of the lights. Then he went outside and made a quick inspection of the perimeter of the house. He could not see any light escaping from the inside. Good, he thought, and went back into the house. He locked and barred the back door once again.
By the time Michael had finished making an edible (he hoped) meal, Lorie emerged from the bedroom. She looked like a flower that had just emerged in the morning dew of spring. She was absolutely radiant. Even her blond hair was back to its normal shininess.
“Wow! You look fantastic,” Michael blurted out before he could stop himself.
“Thanks,” she said sheepishly.
“But, how did you…” Michael started looking for her bandages.
Lorie smiled at him. “We girls have lots of secrets. No one man can handle all of them.” She moved some of her hair that she had expe
rtly used to hide the fresh bandage.
“Incredible,” he exclaimed.
They sat down and ate dinner. While cleaning up, Michael said, “You know that the washer and dryer are working now. But if you’re going to use them, just let me get a quick shower. I’m sure I stink by now.”
“I was wondering what that smell was,” Lorie said as she crinkled up her nose, a smile spreading across her face.
After finishing in the kitchen, Michael rechecked all the windows and doors one more time. He wondered if he was being too obsessive about it. But after what had happened, he could gladly accept being OCD if it meant being safe. He turned off the lights as he went. He didn’t want to waste electricity if he didn’t have to.
Finally satisfied, he peeled his clothes off and stepped into the shower. As the hot water cascaded over his skin and washed away the sweat, Michael felt grateful. He owed this shower and everything to his parents. Their meticulous planning and preparation had saved him.
Stepping out of the shower and drying himself off, he was surprised at how much a simple hot shower could revive the body and spirit.
Putting a clean fresh set of clothes on, Michael went looking for Lorie. She was in the bedroom getting ready to go to sleep.
“Good night, Lorie,” he whispered through the open doorway.
“Michael, come here,” Lorie called.
Wondering if she was okay, Michael went into the bedroom and stood by the bed.
“Stay with me tonight,” she said.
A surprised “Umm…” was all he could manage.
“I don’t want to be alone…tonight,” she said.
Not knowing exactly what she meant, Michael stood there, caught between what he should do and what he wanted to do.
She reached out and grabbed his arm. She moved over, giving him room as she pulled him slowly toward her.
Feeling all resistance melt away, Michael let her pull him. He crawled into bed fully clothed and lay next to her.
Satisfied, Lorie snuggled up next to him. Sandy took up her normal position at the side of the bed.
At this moment, Michael couldn’t be happier. Lying next to Lorie, he felt that the universe was in perfect order. Even though everything outside the house was all wrong, right here and right now, everything inside felt so right.
Influenza: Viral Virulence Page 24