"Maybe she's developed a taste for humans," said John with a smile.
"It's my understanding that human flesh tastes horrible."
"Oh my God," said Harry, closing his eyes.
"How would you have such an understanding, Fred?"
"Read a book about the crew of a ship that was in a storm. Everybody ended up on a raft of some kind. But, they didn't have any way to cook the meat. So -- hard to say. Maybe we taste better done medium well."
"Now, who's making jokes?"
"Just trying to explain the obvious, John."
"Oh my God," said Harry, wagging his head from side to side. "I was alone with her last night. Outside. Alone."
"Guys. Like I said, she's a dangerous predator and she's alone with our people."
"Fred, our people are rarely alone."
"She goes out in the back yard and gathers plants with Marceau all the time."
"Oh my God," said Harry.
John looked at Fred and raised his eyebrows.
Fred shrugged his shoulders and said "It would be easy to lure Marceau into the woods and then when she's bending over looking at a plant, Sarah could whack her in the head with a rock and drag her off. Maybe bring her up here. She would tell us that Marceau was acting strangely and wandered off into the woods. She could say Marceau ate the wrong bit of grass and went crazy. We'd go off into the woods looking for her and she'd be alone with somebody else."
"Oh God," said Harry, who had turned pale. "No, it can't happen. No!"
"OK, OK. We'll go back. Bring the clothes and I'll take the gun. And the leg bone."
"Bones," said Fred.
"Whatever."
"Oh God."
It was time for John to do something, so he grabbed Harry and slapped his face, hard. "Harry, snap out of it! This isn't helping. We need you to be alert. At least, act like yourself. You can't let on anything is wrong until we confront Sarah. understand?"
Harry bit his lips together and took a deep breath, letting it out slowly. "I'll try. Stiff upper lip and all that rot, as Elspeth would say."
"Good."
They hurried back to camp, but it still took two hours of hard marching through the undergrowth. When they arrived back at the lodge, Marceau and Sarah were in the back lawn on hands and knees.
"Hey Sarah, Marceau. Looking for salad greens?"
"Oui, we were short two plates. Sarah has been a great help. I am always mixed up with what is good and what is not. By the way, I need to talk to you, Jean. In the kitchen. Uh -- about the stove. It is important."
"Sure. Hey guys, watch what Sarah is doing, closely," John said as he winked at Fred. "And see if you can learn anything."
Sarah looked up and smiled at Harry. "Hi Harry. You're back early. Hunting not good?"
John followed Marceau into the kitchen where she took a plate of salad from the old cabinet near the window.
"See these?"
"Yes. What's up?"
"Sarah picked them for lunch. They are all poisonous," she said, picking up a leaf. "They look almost identical to plants we normally eat. She pulled another leaf from another plate. See, you can see little difference. You would have been dead in two hours. And, it would not have been a pleasant death, Jean."
"Me. Why me? What have I done? You sure?"
"All the salads are different. You like a few wild onions. Fred likes more wild onions. Elspeth only wants wild onions in the dressing. We keep them in a certain order in the cupboard. This one was to be yours."
"You don't think it could be an accident?"
"No, I first noticed it when I knocked over the plate and everything fell in the floor. I recognized the plants and thought I had made a mistake. A terrible mistake. Mon Dieu. I threw it all away and told Sarah I would fix another. She said she would do it and she made the same thing again. With the same poisonous plants."
"OK, I understand. I'll take care of it right now. First, I'll go to the barn and find some rope."
John returned with the rope to where Sarah was still looking for plants and the guys were watching. Harry was wiping his eyes. John looked at Fred and said, "Grab her!"
As Fred held her arms, she at first squirmed and then gave up, saying, "Hey, what are you guys up to? I haven't done anything. I'm under eighteen, this is illegal."
"You're right about that, Sarah," said John.
After Harry carefully tied her hands and feet, tears in his eyes. John opened his pack and removed the leg bone and the gun and tossed them onto the ground. Fred placed the clothes next to the gun.
"Is that my gun. I lost it. Thanks guys for finding it for me. Now untie me. I'll see if it's OK," she said, looking at Harry, who was wiping his eyes. "Come on, Harry. Joke's over. Untie me, so I can check my rifle. You can do it. For me. Please."
"Whoever found it, put cartridges in the magazine. Isn't that nice, too? Now you have bullets to shoot at whatever or whomever you want. And look at the clothes we found in a cave. I'm guessing they would fit you perfectly. The leg bones, on the other hand, would not."
"What are you guys saying?"
"The leg bone was cooked over a fire only a day or two ago. The carcass it came from also had both arms missing. A young boy. Tied to a tree for days, maybe longer, from the marks on his other leg and around his middle."
"I can't believe this." Her eyes spanned the group and finally landed on John. "Are you guys accusing me of being a cannibal?"
"Being a cannibal isn't hard to understand if you were starving to death." John's voice had more than a hint of anger when he spoke. "But you've been with us for a week or so. You had plenty to eat -- and drink. No reason to capture people -- and cut off limbs -- and eat them -- one at a time."
"You mean, beans and rice every day and an MRE on Sunday? Some grass to help keep our bellies full. That's not plenty to eat. That's one step from starvation. My father and grandfather always had meat at every meal."
"The food has been better than that. Much better. But that one step away from starvation is enough. You only need one step. Starvation is something different. Far worse. Then, today you attempted to poison my salad." The anger in John's voice was becoming greater. His voice was becoming louder. His tone was becoming stronger. He was shouting as he said, "You figure that if I'm out of the picture, the others would be easy? Is that it?"
"Yes, John. Yes. You were all easy." Sarah lost her girlish smile and her tone matched John's in strength and stark ruthlessness, seeming far older than she was. "Every time one of you guys looked at me, you were thinking about humping me. Just like my wretched Grandfather. After I hit thirteen, he couldn't keep his hands off me. Every time my father was away, we had our 'special time' together. He didn't die from the virus. He was resistant to it. As soon as my father came down with the plague, I put an arrow into my Grandfather's heart and left. I was never so happy. And I wish I had put that arrow through your heart, too."
If looks could kill, John's heart would have stopped at that moment. Sarah's expression had turned to one of pure disgust.
"I suppose that explains a lot," said John. You are a great actress to be able to hide so much hate."
"And the women. They all wanted me to be their daughter. To take care of me. Well, I don't need anyone to take care of me. I didn't need my own mother and I don't need them. I don't need any of you. I can handle myself. John, I knew that you and Cho didn't trust me. From the beginning. You made too many trips back to the area where I had my camp. I knew you were suspicious. I thought you would figure it out. I'm surprised it took you so long. Even though I despise you and all men, I kind of admired you. We are a lot alike. We don't trust anybody, not really. We don't like people, not really. And we prefer to be alone."
"Sorry. I like all these people," said John, "and I trust them all," looking at Fred, who was shaking his head.
"So what are you going to do? Take me into the woods and let me go? Tie me to a tree for the animals to eat, one piece at a time?" She laughed a strange laugh. "No, that
wouldn't be civilized. Or maybe you'll just shoot me. You could have a firing squad. No, that would waste too many of your precious bullets. I'm not worth one of your bullets."
Pierre walked out of the house and pulled a small box from his pocket and removed a syringe and a vial. "Marceau told me about the salad. I heard everything here. I'll take care of this. Hold her, tightly."
"Yes, that's it. The humane thing to do. Drug me to death."
While John was talking, Sarah was twisting her arms and managed to free herself from the ropes, which Harry had tied loosely to avoid hurting her. She jumped up, kicked John and ran off into the forest.
"I'll take care of her," said Harry. "It's my fault."
Harry ran after her, followed by John and Fred, both with guns drawn. Harry zigzagged through the forest, keeping Sarah in sight until she ran into a tree and fell backwards onto the ground. She looked up at Harry as he stood by her feet, tears in his eyes.
"You could have had me, Harry. You still could. Just let me go. We could have a lot of fun together," she said with a smile. "This is your chance. I can make you really happy."
Harry wiped his eyes. "You tried to kill John. You killed a young, defenseless boy and ate parts of him. He was in agony watching you cook and devour his arm. His leg. You would eventually kill me and eat me too."
As he finished talking, she pulled a knife and jumped up, plunging the knife into his leg, saying, "That will at least slow you down," as she turned to run away.
Harry pointed his revolver and fired all six shots. "Oh God. What have I done?" he said wiping his eyes. His legs trembled and he fell to his knees.
"Saved us a lot of trouble," said Fred, running up. "We'll take you back to Pierre," he said wrapping a rope around Harry's leg and lifting Harry to his feet. "Maybe Pierre will give you a good discount as a repeat customer."
John grabbed Harry's other arm. "We'll come back and clean up this mess later. I was going to ask her a question right before she escaped. Something I've always wanted to know."
"What's that," said Fred.
"What do humans taste like, cooked?"
"John, you are a great guy, but you have the weirdest sense of humor."
* * *
Sarah was buried on a hill a few miles from the compound. It was a mile from the camp she used and on a different path to avoid stirring up bad thoughts if anybody decided to use the cave as a bug out location. The remains of the young boy she cannibalized were reburied beside her. In spite of their concerns about her, she had taught them to find greens for their salads and knowing her had made their lives better in ways, but obviously, stranger in ways too. Many tears were shed during the ceremony and they took turns making speeches. Everyone mentioned something about her they liked.
When everyone had spoken, George brought the speeches to an end when he said, "You know, you all talked about all the things you liked about Sarah. I'm sure there was something about us that she liked too, or she would have, if she had the opportunity and a big enough bottle of ketchup."
Chapter 43 - Another Trip to Town
After a day of chopping wood, some of the group gathered on the porch to look at the stars.
"Fred and I have been talking about another trip to town. What do you say, John? You want in?"
"Sure, Charles, why not?"
"Me, too. John need protection. Shoot like baby. Not hit big side of barn."
"Cho, you missed the taxi driver in China. You're not a great shot either. Besides, that would give us four people in the Dark Death Dealer. No room for anything else. Right Charles? Sorry, Cho. Need room for our treasure, if we find any."
Charles threw a crooked smile in Fred's direction. "We're way ahead of you, John. George and I found a trailer and took a hitch off one of the cars we used for the barrier fence. After our last trip and our need to gather cloth, we decided we should have more cargo capacity. Depending on what's in the trailer, it only drops our range a little. As long as we don't carry any engine blocks around. So, Cho goes. Or at any rate, I'm not going to be the one to tell her she doesn't."
"Damn right, you not, fèi wù."
John raised his eyebrows and shrugged at Cho. "I give up. When do we go? I'm a little tired right now, but I'll be fine for tonight."
"Me too, also."
"Tonight it is. The Dark Death Defier is all charged and ready to go. We'll go at midnight. We should take a rifle and a shotgun in addition to our sidearms."
A minute after midnight, the lights in the barn went off and the door opened. That's all anyone on the outside would see unless they had the eyes of an owl. The Dark Demon slipped out into the night like a ghost and wound like a snake through the barricade in the front of the lodge and through the outer gate. Twenty minutes later, they were stealthily cruising along the main street of what was once the wealthiest section of the small town.
John stiffened, looking all around the exterior of the car, and sat upright in his seat. "What was that noise? Does the car have a problem? We don't have a good backup plan for car troubles. If the car dies, we'd have to wait for somebody to miss us or walk for several hours in the dark."
Cho tapped John on the arm. "I bring radio."
"I'm glad somebody's thinking." John lightly touched Cho's hand. "I wasn't." He turned to Fred. "Maybe you should install a CB in the Dark Demon sometime, Fred. They have a fair range. Maybe we should also look for another electric car. Wouldn't have to be fancy, just electric. We could use it for rescues or daytime use. Think about it."
"Sure. Sorry about the noise, John. I should have mentioned it. George and I installed a sound system." Fred motioned to the sides, rear and then front of the vehicle. "We put microphones outside so we can hear what's going on without rolling down the windows. Would have helped us last time. This noise sounded like gunfire." Fred craned his neck across the steering wheel. "Some distance away. Looks like straight ahead. I'll slow down and darken the interior. We can open the windows and listen."
"You're right, Fred." John pointed to something in the distance. "Straight ahead. I can see gun flashes. We should move out of the line of fire and go on foot. Pull the car into a driveway to keep anyone from seeing or shooting it. We'll use the houses as cover and make our way closer."
They crept from house to house, dodging shrubs and lawn ornaments. The tall, unmown grass made walking difficult. A furry creature scampered across John's foot, its tail brushing his shin. Shaking it off, he hoped it wasn't a rat, although a badger or a skunk would be worse. The crescent moon provided a little light, casting light shadows on the pavement ahead. After a few minutes of walking, they could hear voices. Fred pulled out a small parabolic microphone from his tool bag and shared the earphone with John. A voice became audible.
"You said, they didn't have any guns. You idiot, you'll get us killed."
"If we don't have something to eat, we'll die. Which way do you want to go, fast or slow?"
A nervous voice replied. "I don't want to die at all. I want you to pick a better target."
"Next time. Let's just get this over with. I can see a figure in the top right window."
On instinct and without thinking, John readied his rifle, aimed and fired at the man talking. The man slumped to the ground. The second man turned around and John fired the second shot.
"John, you much better. What happen?"
"I'm better with a rifle. It takes a lot of practice to be good with a pistol and I don't want to waste bullets." Turning his attention to Fred, John continued, "What's going on with the house?"
The earphone picked up a voice from the house.
"They stopped. Somebody over beside the Jenkins' house shot them. I see four of them by the edge of the house."
"Night vision goggles," Fred whispered. "I wish we had some. Everybody move back behind the edge of the house."
"Somebody find me a stick," John said pulling out his handkerchief. Cho broke a branch from a tree and John attached the handkerchief and began waving it where the people i
n the house could see it. "We took care of your attackers. Are you OK? Do you need any help."
Silence filled the night. After a moment a voice said, "Who are you?"
"My name's John Thompson. We have a farm outside of town. We were scavenging for food and clothing. We didn't think anybody was still alive around here. We saw the fight and I hope we picked the right side. We can leave and not come back."
"He sounds alright, Kevin. Tell him to come over. We'll have a talk."
"I don't trust them. Could be together with the men shooting at us. They could be playing dead."
"Kevin. Stop being stubborn. Four of them could kill us sooner or later anyway."
"Hey, you out there, John Thompson. My wife says you can come in, but I'll keep my gun on you."
John looked at his group and whispered, "I'll go. You cover me. If they shoot me, on my tombstone write, 'If he was so smart, why did he do such a stupid thing?' "
John made sure that his shoes made a noticeable sound on the pavement as he walked to the house, his hands high in the air. No need for them to think that he was anything but friendly.
He entered the open door and, inside, by candle light, John could make out the forms of a man, a woman and two teens, a boy and a girl. The woman said, "Hello, John, I'm Kate Karam and you talked to my husband Kevin. These are our children Kenneth and Kay."
"That's so lame, Mom," said Kenneth. He studied John and finally said, "I use my middle name, Paul."
"It's cute," said Kay. "Everybody calls me KK."
"Don't mind them," Kate said, extending a hand in friendship. "I'd offer you some coffee, but the sun's down and our solar power isn't working now."
John shook hands with both Kate and Kevin.
"The batteries are dying. They are a couple years old," said Kevin. "I bought the cheap ones to save money. I never thought this kind of thing would really happen."
"Nobody ever does," said John. "Well everyone. As I said, we have a group of around a dozen. We live fifteen miles from here on a farm, to the east. How is it you are all alive and not affected by the plague, if you don't mind my asking."
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