The Weak Shall Die: Complete Collection (Four Volume Set)

by Taylor Michaels

  "Sound like you make up mind, already. John watch back, and front. Now John watch Cho." She pulled the covers back and smiled.

  * * *

  At four, Charles arose in the darkness and prepared his backpack. Leaving his cabin, he welcomed the cool of the morning. July could bring hot weather, even in the Blue Ridge Mountains. With the clear blue sky, today was going to be a hot day. The lodge was cooler than the cabins, and he was glad he told Sarah to meet them in the great room.

  "What's the story, Charles?"

  "What story, Sarah?"

  "How's John? Does he hold Iris's mistake against me. Do I stay or do I go? Are you going to leave me back where you found me? Is that why we're going? The kiss off," she said, smiling her best coy smile.

  Charles didn't want to have this conversation right now. It would be a subject better discussed with all the group present. "Why are you asking me? I don't make the decisions. We have a democracy. We vote."

  "All those people at dinner last night thought you were second in charge. Every time I asked a question, they looked at you before answering. It's John's place and he grew up here, but you are the eldest and the most experienced."

  "For a seventeen year old, you're pretty smart."

  "Not a bad guess on the age. My mother died in childbirth. I had to grow up quickly. It was just me, Dad and Grandpa, and a few of their friends. A bunch of old men and a kid. All my friends were old men. I had to be independent. Watch my back. I raised myself. So, what's the answer?"

  Charles kept getting the impression that Sarah's home life was more complicated than she was telling him. "If you want all the cards on the table, then fine. The group does vote on new additions to the group. We haven't voted yet. We need food. If you can help us with that and you can get along with everybody, then you're in. Otherwise, you're another mouth to feed and we have too many of those already. Your knowledge of plants could be valuable. It could be the difference between being hungry and being happy. If you're a good hunter, that would get you some votes, too. On the other hand, and John would probably not mention this, our lives have become brutal. If you can't handle it when someone outside the group attacks us and we have to kill him, then you should keep traveling. We have killed several up to this point, to survive. It hasn't been easy. You'll have to be tough. Do you have any skills, other than botany, foraging and hunting?"

  She mulled over what he had said for just a second. "If you're hungry, do I need any more skills?"

  "Maybe not. But, we'd like to know everybody's capabilities, in case something comes up."

  "You want the upper hand. Well, I will tell you this. My granddad and dad both told me when this virus broke out that I had to look out for number one. Number one is me." She patted her upper chest. "And I've had to defend myself, several times, even from the mutants. I killed a few."

  "You ran across other survivors, too."

  A cold stare overpowered a tear forming in the corner of her eye as she squinted. "Yeah, I ran into mutants. One mutant was my boyfriend, since grade school. He was going to kill my granddad and dad and take our food. He didn't think I'd harm him, but I hid a knife behind my back. When he came too close…" She abruptly stopped. She wasn't finished, but she was.

  Sarah was trembling and Charles wasn't sure what to do, so he acted on instinct. He put his arm around her thin body and told her she was safe now. Sarah quickly backed away, composing herself.

  "This looks like a quiet place," she continued as if nothing had happened. "How often does something come up?"

  "Almost every day. Looks can be deceiving," he said, staring into her eyes for a long minute.

  Sarah didn't flinch and didn't break off eye contact. "Yes, I know."

  The moment was broken when George opened the back door, "You guys ready? I'm hopin' another full stomach is in my future. I just spoke to Pierre. He thinks John will be out of sorts for a few weeks."

  The hunting trip went like most recent trips. No game was sighted. All three returned depressed.

  Chapter 40 - A Trip to Town

  Dinner was over and John and Charles were on the front porch when Fred walked out.

  "Hey guys. Good dinner, wasn't it. Marceau's cooking is better and better. Too bad we didn't find another turkey. What's up?" Fred nodded to each as he sat on the sofa beside Charles. As usual, John had grabbed the recliner. "How's the shoulder?"

  "Not bad. Pierre did wonders. He gives me a few injections each morning, antibiotics I think, and I'm fine. Only four days and I'm as good as ever."

  "No pain."

  "Nothing, Fred," said John. "And no side effects. Maybe, it has to do with how the virus has made me stronger. Maybe, I now heal faster, too. Maybe not. I don't know."

  "Good in either case."

  "Charles and I were just reminiscing. The good old days. Charles helped us keep watch on Dubai. Spying for us. He would send my stepfather a message whenever he heard or saw anything unusual and we would fly over to check it out. We had some good times and some tight times."

  "Too many tight times. And they kept getting tighter and tighter," said Charles, holding up his hand and bringing his thumb and forefinger closer and closer.

  Fred grabbed two pillows from one of the chairs and put them behind his back. "You know, it's been six weeks since the virus hit. I've been thinking we should try foraging in town, again. We've been through all the local houses and stores on this side of town. Everything within a few miles."

  "You mean the stores in the city, Fred?"

  He hunched forward and turned toward Charles. "I don't know. Maybe stores, but homes for sure. Since we haven't looked, we don't know. Could be something usable. Maybe somebody kept a stash of food. Collected it before they passed on."

  "Maybe somebody else has beaten us to it?"

  "Maybe they did, John, but then, maybe they died. The house of the last person in the neighborhood to die might be a real treasure trove. It might have everything the owner collected from the whole area. The virus hit only a few weeks after the panic. That means people only had a few weeks to consume everything they had. Many ate everything and starved, I'm sure, but somebody must have had more stuff than that put away. They wouldn't have to be preppers to have a month of food in their kitchens. We could start in the wealthy section north of town. Some of them might have kept a bunch of food. Even tools."

  "Do we have some breathing masks. Just in case?" said John.

  "A few."

  "How about some kind of suits? When the virus first started, I saw the Chinese go into a building wearing silver suits. When they came out, other guys in plastic suits washed them off with portable sprayers."

  Fred mulled it over for a second and then said, "You remember the painting above the fireplace? The sun shining on that gray ship sometimes makes it appear silver. It makes me think. The boat's not silver, the suit doesn't have to be either. We could make a suit from garbage bags, with lots of duct tape. That's one thing we have plenty of. Boxes and boxes," Fred said, waving his hands in the air. "We would be covered with bags and a breathing mask. When we came out, one of us would wash the other off with one of the sprayers I bought for spraying the garden. I could fill it with a solution of bleach and soap. We'll use another trash bag to store the suits." He paused before continuing. "You really think disease is still a problem?"

  "Yes. Maybe I worry too much. But, we have a good chance of making it now. Perhaps not a good chance of becoming wealthy or fat, but a good chance of staying alive. That's what we've been trying to do from the beginning. I don't want to take too many chances with what we already have, even though it's not much. If you're twenty points ahead in the fourth quarter, you don't take a chance on a wild play, right?"

  "More like six points ahead in the third quarter, I would say," said Charles.

  "You're right, Charles," said Fred. "It's not a done deal. The garden looks good. We should be able to preserve enough food, if something doesn't go wrong. But even if it doesn't, when you count the
calories, it's still going to be hard, making it to next fall. A whole year. And what happens if next year is bad for the garden? Too much rain. Not enough sunshine. Farming is a crap shoot. You never know what'll happen. Too wet or too dry and it's over. We're not out of the hole yet. It's not the fourth inning. And we're not twenty points ahead. I'd like some insurance."

  "An ace in the hole," said John, staring at the floor. "You want insurance. Well, I've done the best I can and this is it. Take it or leave it."

  "I want something to help us if our plans don't work out. Or if we're robbed. Or attacked and one of the storage cabins is burned down. We'd be in real bad shape if the lodge burned down. That old cook stove is not in the best shape. It's a gamble. Too many things could go wrong."

  "I know. I know. Things could be worse. What do you want me to do? I can't do magic. I've done what I can."

  "And you never know. Somebody could have put back a fifty pound bag of rice or beans. Somebody could have had a greenhouse. Even a little one. John, we all are sick of worrying about surviving. We worry every day about starving. We're hungry every day. We didn't have enough time to prep properly. Our present is not good and our future is not safe."

  John didn't know what to say. Fred was upset about his decisions and plans. He had heard grumbling more than once. Occasionally from George. It was difficult living day to day, not knowing if they were going to survive or be killed by a rival group. Not knowing if they had enough food to avoid starving to death before the garden began producing. Not knowing if a bunch of city people could raise a garden well enough to survive the winter. He was reaching a boiling point.

  John stood up and looked at Fred. "You think I've never thought of those things?" he said in a loud voice. "Is that really what you believe, Fred? That I think I have the monopoly on brains? That I think I'm the only one who cares about the group? About all these people I've gathered? I do worry about these people. I brought them here. I promised to take care of them. I worry about calories and about survival, and it drives me crazy. I worry constantly. Every minute of every day." He began to pace back and forth across the porch, first running his hands through his hair, then pounding his right fist into his left hand.

  "Hey John, take it easy."

  Charles was watching the two men carefully. Was this an argument or were they just letting off steam? His thinking was interrupted as John stopped pacing, turned and looked at Fred.

  "I know I haven't done the best job. You all blame me for our situation. I see it on everybody's face. The women, especially. They're scared, particularly Masako and Marceau. They don't complain, but I see it. And Cho, she's not as brave as she let's on. Sometimes it shows. I'm sure all of us feel like we're facing death every day. But, I'm doing all I can. I'm trying everything I can. I just don't know what else to do." John sat down and put his head in his hands.

  Fred was beginning to have another worry. Was John going to crack under all the pressure? If John could, then the rest were not far behind. John was normally a rock. He and Charles never seemed to have a nerve. Nothing bothered either one. This wasn't a time for confrontation, but Fred didn't want to appear weak, even though he was worried. If John cracked, who would take over? Or would the group split up? He rose and put his hands out, palms first. "Hey, that's not what I was insinuating. I was just saying that we all worry about what's going to happen to us. We don't blame you for anything. None of this is your fault. The virus or the panic. We've all been doing the best we can."

  John looked up and took a deep breath. "Yeah, I know. This whole survival business is driving me nuts. We really weren't prepared and now it's too late. That time passed quickly. One minute we were escaping pirates when we landed in Virginia and the next, we were escaping the panic. So, what's your plan?"

  Fred eased back into his seat and Charles felt the tight muscles in his body relax. Charles had been asking himself what he should do. If a fight started, should he let it go on or stop it and defend John. A fight would have let out some steam, but it could also tear the group apart. Luckily, it wasn't going to be a problem. Not now anyway.

  "We should take the Dark Defender," said Fred. "Today was sunny. Yesterday was sunny. It's all powered up. No moon tonight. It's perfect. We leave after dark. Just the two of us, unless Charles wants in."

  Charles thought for a moment and was still worried about John and Fred. They both seemed a little unstable. "Sure. I've been a little bored chopping wood. It does help remove aggressive tendencies. You both should try it."

  "I understand," said John. "It sounds like the three of us are going into town. What time, Fred?" John was trying to make sure everybody felt included in making decisions. If he tried to be a dictator and told everyone what to do and when, they would have arguments and somebody would leave. The group was lean, with little backup. If they lost an individual, they would lose some capability. It had to be that way to minimize food requirements and avoid starvation. Disagreements and fights had to be minimized. People had to get along, mostly.

  "I'll gather the bags and fill the sprayer. The car has enough space in the trunk for them. Even with the three of us, we should be able to carry several days of food in the Dark Demon. And if we have to go back for a second load, we can, John."

  "Not much chance of that, though."

  "Come on, John. No negativity. Somewhere, somebody has grabbed up food from all the houses around them. And if they're not around any more, then why shouldn't we have it?"

  * * *

  The next day, John talked to Marceau, who prepared their dinner before dark so they could take a nap before their nighttime raid. As the sun melted behind the mountains, filling the sky with oranges and reds, John and Fred awoke and made their way to the barn.

  "You do have some beautiful sunsets here," Fred said, trying to take their minds away from their current problems. "That's what I remember most about those vacations my family spent here at the lodge."

  "I thought that girl with the pigtails was your best memory. You two used to live out behind this barn. Whenever I wanted to go hunting, that's where I went to find you. And I always found you. And if the sun sets in front of the barn and you were behind it, how did you see those sunsets?"

  Fred smiled and lifted his head. "The loft was for evenings. Less creepy crawlies to upset Miss Pigtails. The view from the loft is even better than from here, John. And the straw was softer than the ground."

  "Every summer, my father would buy a dozen bales of straw. I'd help him haul them up into that loft."

  "So?"

  "We took the straw up, but we never brought it down."

  "Something tells me I wasn't the only one. What about you and Carla?"

  John paused and reflected, staring at the sunset. The reds, oranges and yellows streaked the sky with an iridescent glow. "Yeah. I feel bad about voting her out. Half of me wanted to cry and half wanted to fall down on the floor laughing. She not only deserved it, but she set herself up. She asked for it. She was always trying to manipulate me. I suppose she thought she could manipulate the group. She was trying to make us pity her, but she was sliding down the wrong side of that mountain. It was a crazy night. I must have had way too much wine. It was like seeing a car rolling down a hill and half of me wanted to run out and stop it and the other half wanted to just sit and see what it would crash into and how big the fireball would be. Looking back on it, I really am surprised it happened and none of us put a stop to it. I should have. Another of my leadership mistakes."

  "John, don't feel bad. You said it. She set herself up. She was worthless and she pushed the pity button one too many times," Fred said, opening the side door to the barn. "What did you ever see in her?"

  John let out a half-laugh, thinking back to a younger, happier time. "Back then, I wasn't worried about her personality. Besides, no matter what she said, she was the aggressor. I just followed the path she laid out for me. Just like the night we voted her out."

  They loaded the plastic-bag hazmat suits Fred
had made along with the sprayer and an extra gallon bottle of Fred's special disinfecting sauce into the remaining space in the trunk.

  "Can we go eighty miles on a trip?" asked John.

  "Yes. Of course. Originally, these cars were supposed to have a range of eighty. These batteries were a little old. That's why I always said the range was sixty. The extra batteries I took from other cars should give us another twenty. It depends on how fast we go and up how many hills. The northern section of town has lots of hills. We should watch the power meter closely. Turn back at no more than thirty, just to have a margin of safety."

  Charles sprinted into the barn, out of breath. "Sorry guys, I overslept."

  "Getting a little old, are we, Charlie boy," Fred ribbed him.

  "I can take care of myself. You'll never be as good as me, when you're older. Or younger."

  "John, I think he's almost ready to tell us some of those stories he's been keeping secret. Once he starts, I'll write them down and publish them. If we ever run across that much paper."

  When the daylight was completely gone, Fred piled into the back seat and John and Charles swung themselves into the front seats of the Dark Demon. John pushed the button and the lights went out and the garage doors opened. He slowly drove down the zigzag driveway and hit the button to open the front gate. After pushing the buttons to close the gate and the garage doors, he turned right, toward town.

  On the monitor in front, the scene was eerie shades of grey, from white to black. The infrared illuminators painted the road with white for a good distance straight ahead. Off to the sides, it was grey. Although the visible light was completely gone and everything outside was black to the eye, it was barely after sunset and the infrared from the sky would continue for another hour, showing the surroundings clearly. Any lights would show up as bright white spots, if any were out there.

  "Not a bad system for driving, but it's a little deceiving," said John.