The beam of light illuminated dark wood paneling and a tile floor that looked like something out of the sixties, but what drew Hunter’s attention was the long workbench that wrapped around the whole back of the room forming a U shape. He crossed to the bench scanning the beam across the pegboard on the wall above it. It was apparent some of the items had been taken by the homeowners because he could still see the outlines of some of the tools. A thick coat of dust lined a shelf at eye level, but even so, he could make out a lighter layer of dust in some places where items used to be.
A few boxes and tools remained, and Hunter tried to read the labels, but some were so old the print wasn’t legible. He took everything he found. The items strained against the plastic. As he reached the top of the stairs, his gaze caught on a hook just inside the back door. A keyring with two small keys. He snatched it and shoved it in his pocket. He’d just bet one was for the garage. He moved through the house to the front door, but just as he reached for the knob, someone knocked.
Heart hammering, Hunter pulled out his gun and peered through the peephole.
10
“Jake, wait,” Elly whispered, holding her arm out to block Jake from entering even further.
“What’s wrong?” He bumped into her arm and dropped into a crouch, the straight end of the hook pointing outward.
She nodded at the water, dropping her hand on her own weapon, the leather flap holding it in place unsnapped. “Look. It couldn’t have been poured more than a few hours ago. The spilled part hasn’t even evaporated yet.”
Jake’s eyes darted to hers, then to the water. “I’ll go check out the house. Stay here.” His voice was low, barely above a whisper.
“No, we stick together.”
He nodded but went first. She crept after him.
The kitchen opened into a living room. She sniffed. Urine, feces and something rotten, but it didn’t smell like death. A creak from the ceiling drew their attention. Someone was moving around up there. When they reached the staircase, she stayed at the bottom of it as Jake explored the short hallway. He peeked into each room. A door at the end of the hallway wouldn’t open. He took a step back and, using the heel of his foot, kicked it wide. Immediately, he recoiled and turned his head away, before he reached for the doorknob, pulling the door closed again.
Concerned, she raised her eyebrows. He met her eyes, but just shook his head as he eased open the remaining door in the hallway. The stench of urine and feces ramped up, and her eyes watered. The bathroom. Jake took a quick look but shut the door. “Nobody alive down here.” He glanced at the closed door at the end of the hall that he’d reacted so strongly to.
She didn’t ask what was behind it. She didn’t have to. Instead, she took the lead up the stairs, stopping every few steps to listen again. At the top of the steps was another bathroom. The door was partially open, and dried yellow stains marred the blue and white tile. Gun in hand, she edged the door completely open. A bucket of water sat beside the toilet, but the filthy water in the bowl was up to the rim of the toilet. Toothpaste smeared the sink, and she noted a small pink toothbrush with princess decals on the handle tucked behind the faucet. A green toothbrush with a Star Wars logo hung from a built in toothbrush holder.
The bathroom was situated between two doors. One was open, an unmade bed visible. Clothes, toys, and dirty dishes lay strewn across a dingy tan carpet. She glanced behind her. The room with the closed door was right above the living room. She took a deep breath, and gripped the handle, tilting her head to Jake. He nodded that he was ready. She twisted the knob.
Nothing. Jake motioned to the floor as he dropped low and peered around the door. Then he stood, pushing the door open all the way. The room was in the same state as the opposite bedroom with toys, clothes, and dishes scattered around. White curtains and a Disney princess poster on the wall hinted at it being a little girl’s room.
Then she heard it. A whimper.
“Hello?” Elly knelt and looked under the bed, the source of the sound. She pushed a dirty comforter out of the way. Dark, matted hair framed a thin, pale face. Watering blue eyes stared back at her. “Hey, hon. It’s okay. I won’t hurt you.” She held a hand out, but the girl drew back.
Jake dropped to his belly and pushed halfway under the bed. “Hi, Princess. I’m Jake. What’s your name?”
Something hard hit Elly’s back, and she grunted as she rolled to the side, gripping her gun and her finger twitching on the trigger.
“Leave her alone!” A boy, no more than eight, raised the hook Jake had set aside. “Go away!” The hook was bigger than the boy.
She rolled again, taking her out of range as Jake backed out from beneath the bed and his hand extended, palm facing the child. “Whoa. We’re not gonna hurt anybody, are we, Elly?”
Elly scrambled to her feet and rolled her shoulders. Damn, the kid had a hell of a swing. “No. We thought the house was empty. All we were looking for were a couple of pillowcases.”
The boy tried to keep them both in his sights, but Jake moved to the left and Elly edged to the right. While she had his attention, Jake grabbed the shepherd’s hook from the boy. They didn’t want to hurt the kids, but that didn’t mean they could let the boy bash them with the heavy wrought iron bar.
“Hey, give that back!” The kid jumped for the hook, but Jake held it out of reach.
“It’s mine, anyway, little man.” Jake flashed Elly what she assumed was a smile from the way his eyes crinkled.
The laughter fled his expression when the boy’s tough façade crumbled and his lip quivered.
“I promised Zoe I’d protect her.”
Jake went to one knee and focused on the boy. “I’m Jake, and I swear nobody I know will ever hurt Zoe.” He shifted the hook to his left hand and extended his right.
The boy looked from Elly to Jake, his expression wary even as tears escaped and raced down his gaunt cheeks. She imagined all of the horrors these children had to have seen and experienced the last several months. Her own eyes flooded at the thought. “Jake’s telling the truth. We wouldn’t ever hurt a kid.”
Zoe peeked from beneath the bed, her eyes huge and glued to her brother. He looked at her then at Jake. “You promise?”
Jake nodded, making a couple of passes across his chest with his finger before putting his hand out again. “Cross my heart. I swear on it.”
The boy took Jake’s hand. “Now it’s official. If you break your swear, you’ll go to hell. That’s what my daddy used to say.”
“Your daddy is absolutely right, and I sure don’t want to go to hell.” Jake nodded solemnly and stood. “What’s your name, little man?”
“Lucas.”
That’s all he gave them, but Elly decided that a last name didn’t really matter anymore. “I’m Elly.” She held her hand out, and Lucas gave it a quick shake, then crossed to the bed.
“This is Zoe. She’s six. She don’t talk no more, but she used to all the time. Our mommy called her a chatterbox.”
A lump came to Elly’s throat. She hated to ask, but she had to. “Lucas, do you know where your mom and dad are?”
Jake caught her eye and jerked his head towards the other end of the house. Damn it. The room with the locked door.
“Our mom got sick. One day she went to her room and said no matter what, to not go in there, so we didn’t.”
“You haven’t been in there at all?” She found that hard to believe.
“Nope. We both wanted to, but Mommy made us swear—plus she locked the door.” The boy looked down, biting his lip. When he spoke again, tears pooled in his eyes, but his voice was defensive. “She left us food and stuff—she made sure we had a lot of it. But now it’s gone.”
She curbed her instinct to put her arms around the boy’s bony shoulders and offer comfort. It was clear he didn’t want anyone to think badly of his mother.
“Where’s your dad?” Jake asked.
Lucas shrugged. “Mommy said he’d come for us, but he never did.
He’s a truck driver.” He picked at a scab on the back of his hand, his head bent as he added in a soft voice, “We’ve been waiting a long time.”
Elly motioned for Jake to come closer. “Lucas, I’m just going to talk to Jake for a minute, okay?” She tugged Jake a few feet away from the kids. “Was that their mother in the room?”
Jake nodded. “Yeah, what’s left of her.”
“I’m surprised the stench hasn’t permeated the air, but maybe the smell of rotting garbage, feces and urine helped cover the odor.”
“You didn’t get the whiff I did. Trust me. Even through the mask… ” He shuddered.
“I’ll take your word for it, and it doesn’t matter much anyway. I’m just trying to calculate how long these kids have been alone. How have they survived?” She glanced at the children who sat on the edge of the bed. Lucas had his arm draped over his sister’s thin shoulders. Both children were dangerously thin. “We can’t leave them here. They’ll die.”
Jake nodded. “I know. Think it’d be okay if we brought them back to the island?”
“What choice do we have? If they don’t starve to death, they’ll freeze to death in the winter.”
“What about the virus?”
Elly sighed. “I’ll question them; see if they’ve had contact with anyone recently—they’ve been getting water from somewhere, so at least one of them has left the house.” She crossed her arms as she sorted through the issues they would have to deal with, but what choice did they have? Enough people had died. “Of course, we’ll have to put them in isolation. The cabin next to ours is empty.”
“Good. I don’t think I could walk away from them. They’re so little.” Jake turned to look at the children and Elly had never seen him so serious.
Elly approached the children and squatted in front of them, her hands loosely clasped. “Would you two like to come with us? Jake and I live with a family on an island in the bay.”
Lucas straightened, the arm around Zoe tightening. “I told you, we’re waiting for our dad.”
Nodding, Elly smiled. “And you have done an amazing job of taking care of your sister while you’ve been waiting. I don’t know many adults who could have done as well.” The words weren’t empty praise. Elly was impressed. The bucket on the table in the kitchen and even the one in the bathroom was proof that the boy had done the best he could. He’d obviously tried to keep the toilets working and have fresh water to drink.
Jake stood beside Elly and added, “We can leave a note for your dad so he can find you when he comes back.”
Elly cast him a warning look. Giving details about the island didn’t sound like a good idea. “How about we leave a note saying we’ll come to check back every week or so? That way when he gets back, your dad can know that you’re okay and then he’ll wait for when we come back to check.”
Zoe lifted her face to her brother, her eyes wide, almost pleading. Lucas looked at her, then Jake and Elly. “Do you have food?”
“We do. Jake and I have gone fishing most days, and we have some goats, two who give a little milk. And we just found some chickens. They’re out in your shed right now. That’s why we need the pillowcases.” Elly put the edge of her hand against the side of her mouth as if dispensing a state secret. “Jake’s chickens kept pooping on him!”
Playing along, Jake acted affronted. “Hey, wait a second. I’m sure yours would have pooped on you, too.” He winked at the boy.
Lucas cracked a tiny smile, and Zoe stared at Jake, her expression turning to something Elly suspected would become hero-worship if given half a chance. Jake dropped to one knee and angled his head towards Elly. “I was just like you guys back when everything got bad. Yeah, I know I’m bigger than you two, but I was all alone—I didn’t even have a brother or sister like you guys have, and my mom had died, and my dad lived way down in Florida. I’m not even embarrassed to admit that I was scared and lonely.”
He had their attention. He had Elly’s, too. She heard the sincerity in his voice and felt her throat tightened. He went on, “And then Elly found me, and we’ve been a team ever since.”
Lucas turned his gaze onto Elly, then back to Jake. “Is she your mom now?”
Jake’s head dipped and his voice cracked. “Almost. Maybe like the best aunt a kid could have.”
She placed a hand on Jake’s shoulder under the pretext of using him to lever herself to a standing position, but she gave it a squeeze. “I don’t have any kids, but if I had a son, I’d want him to be just like Jake. Everything else was terrible, but teaming up with him that day was the best thing to ever happen to me.” She sniffed, daring a quick glance at Jake. He stood, making her angle her head upward. He simply nodded.
Lucas stood and pulled Zoe to stand beside him. “We’ll go… but only after we leave a note.”
11
Cole leaned against the truck. What the hell was taking Hunter so long? It was at least twenty minutes since he’d gone around the back. Worried his son was in trouble, maybe hurt, Cole pushed off the truck and cast a look around. In all the time he’d waited, the only movement came from birds and squirrels. Satisfied all was quiet, he abandoned his post and went around the back of the house.
The backyard was empty, but he noticed the broken window, and it wasn’t hard to guess how Hunter had gained entry. There was no way Cole was going to be able to enter the same way, not with his injury, so he circled back to the front of the home and climbed the steps of the porch. He paused, already winded from the excursion. Damn, he must have lost more blood than he’d thought. Black dots sprinkled his vision, and after knocking, he braced his good shoulder against the wall beside the door and tried to blink the dots away.
The door eased open a crack and the barrel of a gun poked out of the slit. Startled, Cole stumbled back a few steps. “Jeez, Hunter! It’s me!”
“Dad! You scared the shit out of me!”
“Who the hell were you expecting?” He hadn’t meant to sound harsh but didn’t have enough breath left to apologize.
Hunter shook his head but reached out and gripped Cole’s right biceps, steering him toward a wicker chair on the corner of the porch. “Sit.”
Cole did, letting out a sigh. “I was just worried when you were gone for so long. I saw you went in the back—”
“So you knocked on the door? What if there was someone in here looking to do harm? They could have killed me and finished you off when you knocked on the door!” Hunter’s eyebrow raised in that manner that seemed familiar, and then Cole remembered Brenda used to do the same thing when she was exasperated with him. It made him smile, but that just made the eyebrow arch even higher.
“Sorry, Hunter. It’s just you look like your mother right now—when she was angry with me, that is.” Cole drew in a deep breath and cradled his left elbow to take the pressure off his shoulder.
Hunter bit his lip, his eyes pensive. “I wish I remembered Mom better. I used to watch the home videos of her, but I can’t remember the last time I did. And now I can’t… ” He shook his head. “But still, Dad, you should’ve kept watch out there, where I knew where you were. What if you’d collapsed?”
“I wasn’t close to collapsing, and there’s nobody else around. I’d bet it’s been months since anyone has set foot on this street.” He tilted his chin towards the front yard. “With the length of the weeds, anyone would leave a path through them, and sure, they could use the sidewalks, but look at all the leaves, Hunter. They’re undisturbed.”
Hunter glanced at the yard. “Okay. Fine. I over-reacted when I answered the door, but I’d just seen you leaning against the truck a few minutes before.”
Cole rolled his eyes. “And you couldn’t bother to open the door and holler out to me that all was clear?”
“So, we’re even.” Hunter reached into his front pocket and pulled out some keys. “There’s not a whole lot in the house, but I got what I could. But, look! I think these are the keys to the garage!” He grinned as if he’d just found the prize
egg at an Easter Egg hunt. “I’m going to load up everything I found so far, and you are going back to the truck.” He darted into the house but left the door open, and Cole could see through to the kitchen as Hunter gathered the drawstring on a trash bag.
“Sure. Someone needs to stay and guard it against the hordes of thieves about to descend.” Cole stood, locking his knees to keep from swaying.
“You sound like you’re disappointed that there aren’t hordes of thieves.” Hunter looked like some kind of post-apocalyptic young Santa Claus in his faded red hoodie with a white trash bag filled with what at any other time would be considered junk, slung over his shoulder.
“Not exactly… just wishing there was someone else out there.” He gestured to his shoulder. “I mean someone who isn’t shooting at us.” Cole followed Hunter down the steps and to the truck, reaching into the cab to retrieve his water bottle. He snagged Hunter’s as well, tucking it in the sling, and gave it to him when he returned to the back of the truck.
Hunter pulled off his gloves and tucked them in his back pocket. “Thanks.” He drew the back of his hand across his mouth when he was done, his expression pensive. “You know, I’ve been wondering… why were they shooting at us, Dad? They didn’t even know who we were.” His mouth twisted as his face took on a hard look Cole had never seen him wear before. “And after those two guys took Sophie, I can’t help wondering if all the good people died.” Bitterness and fear laced his tone.
Cole sat on the edge of the bed of the truck and sighed. “No, I’m certain there are still good people out there. We made it, after all, and I’d like to think we’re good people.”
Hunter shrugged, his gaze fixed on the interior of the truck as if he was lost in a memory.
“Come on, Hunter. The virus wasn’t picking and choosing based on a person’s moral character.” He meant the last bit as a joke, but when his son only sighed in reply, Cole knew it fell flat. He tried again. “Listen, I know about diseases and there’s never been one yet that picks victims based on social morality, generosity—or lack of it— or any other personality trait. It’s all biological—the virus’s only goal is to replicate itself and continue to survive. That’s it.”
Sympatico Syndrome Trilogy Box Set Page 36