Sympatico Syndrome Trilogy Box Set

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Sympatico Syndrome Trilogy Box Set Page 43

by McDonald, M. P.


  “Where’s Jake?” Hunter’s voice held the same fear as Cole’s. Then he spotted a shaggy blonde head hauling a load of wood down the steps from the first home under the watchful eyes of two more men with guns.

  “What are they doing?”

  Cole shook his head. “I’m not sure. They all look able-bodied. They don’t need him to carry firewood around.”

  “And what about Sophie? What do they want with her?” Hunter’s eyes were clouded with fear and anger when Cole turned to reply.

  “I don’t know.”

  “Let’s go get them.” Hunter started to rise, but Cole hauled him back down behind the bushes.

  “We will, but we need to figure out how many we’re dealing with here first.”

  “Shit. I knew I should have brought my bow. I could take these guys out before any of them even knew anything was happening.” Hunter’s eyes narrowed at Cole.

  It had been Cole who had told him to leave it because they already had enough to carry. The bow and arrows would have tangled with Hunter’s pack. Plus, rifles had seemed safer. He nodded though, conceding his son’s point even as it worried him how easily the idea of taking out people had slipped from Hunter’s mouth.

  “Let’s circle around to see what’s going on closer to the homes.”

  Hunter didn’t respond, just followed Cole.

  It took them twenty minutes to reach the road that led to the driveways of the homes. The mailbox of the A-frame read, “The Carsons”. The other mailbox was just a red box on a pole.

  “Now what?” They had crept through the undergrowth of forest that bordered what had probably been an immaculate front lawn at one time.

  Cole wished they had brought one of the vehicles and noted the address on the mailboxes. He didn’t yet know the street name, but they could find that out when they backtracked.

  Gates across the driveways, clearly put up recently, connected to a fence that enclosed the fronts of both homes. The fences appeared to have been pulled from other homes and connected together from the difference in the colors of the wood and styles. It wasn’t a pretty fence, but it was effective and there was no way they were getting in from the front. Exploring their options from the woods, they found that the homes were built on the edge of the bluffs and there was no way they could get to the homes short of coming at them along the beach.

  “Dad, I’m going to climb the tree and look into the yards.”

  “Good idea.” He took Hunter’s rifle and stood guard as Hunter shimmied up the tree. The kid always could climb like a monkey.

  It seemed like he was up there for a long time, but Cole took notes on what he saw from his vantage point as well. Garbage piled along the side of the fences. Cartons, cans, bottles and empty snack bags. From what he could tell, the people inside had been living on junk food. He could be wrong, but the empty chip bags told another story.

  Hunter descended from his perch in the tree, and dropped lightly to the ground beside Cole. “I saw some old ladies moving around inside the house. It looked like about five, plus a few more old guys.”

  “Old? Like me old?” Hunter’s idea of old and Cole’s were probably very different.

  “No… not old like you, but really old. Like probably seventy-ish?” He licked his lips and pulled out his bottle, tipping it to get the last few drops to run into his mouth.

  Cole handed him his own bottle of water. “Here. Try to leave me a sip if you could.”

  “Thanks.”

  “Did you see anything else? Any kids?”

  Hunter shook his head. “Nope. No kids. I saw a couple of dead rabbits lying by the door. I guess they’re hunting or trapping rabbits.”

  “I’ve been looking at their garbage and I don’t see many bones, so if they’re hunting, they don’t seem to be catching much.” He pointed to the pile of garbage on their side of the fence. It looked as if someone on the inside simply pitched stuff over the fence from the number of wrappers and bags that had caught on the pointed fence posts.

  Hunter wrinkled his nose as he studied the pile. “Shit. I think I ate better at college—and I lived off of ramen, peanut butter and jelly, and the occasional fruit snack.”

  Cole shook his head, but he smiled at Hunter. “I had a feeling… ”

  “These guys are living off chips and snack cakes.”

  Sobering, Cole nodded. “That’s how it seems. I could be wrong though.”

  “They looked pretty skinny. Especially the women.”

  “So we’ve seen five men and five women, all senior citizens.” Cole tried to figure out what to make of that. In pandemics, the old and the young tended to die first. Sympatico Syndrome had been different from the beginning though.

  “Yeah. Everyone was really bundled up inside, and I don’t smell anything cooking, do you?”

  Cole sniffed. Hunter was right. There was no scent from anything cooking. It had been something he noticed right away on the island. It seemed to smell perpetually of smoke, fish, bread and soups. They didn’t eat like kings, but something was always cooking. “Good catch.”

  Hunter’s expression dissolved into a look of horror. “You don’t think they’re planning on eating… ” He didn’t finish. Or maybe he couldn’t finish as he appeared ready to bolt into the compound.

  “Whoa, what are you talking about? Planning on eating… what?”

  “Sophie! And Jake!” His eyes wide, he tried to shrug off Cole’s restraining hand.

  “No, I’m sure they’re not going to eat them.”

  “Really? How do you know?” His voice started to rise and Cole tugged him deeper into the cover of the forest.

  “Okay, you’re right, I don’t know, but I highly doubt it.”

  “But you don’t know.”

  Cole bit his lip, his gaze fixed on the compound. He didn’t know for sure. Hunter could be right. “Let’s watch a bit longer. We know already that we’re out-manned. They’re at least one gun-up on us.”

  “What are we gonna do?”

  “We’ll get Jake and Sophie. Don’t worry. I think we might have to go back to the island first though, and come back with Sean, Joe, and Elly.”

  “That’ll take too long! I can take out a couple of them from up in the tree, and you can get the guys on the beach. They won’t be expecting us.”

  “Look, son, I know you want to go in there guns blazing, and part of me does, too. Believe it or not, but I think of those two as part of our family. I’d do everything in my power to save them the same as I’d do for you, but what if we go in there and accidentally shoot Sophie or Jake? Or one of the old guys shoots them before we can kill them all?”

  Hunter’s mouth set in a hard line, his jaw squared. “I’m not leaving here without them, Dad.”

  Cole met his son’s gaze. “I get it. I do. And if it’s possible, we’ll do what we can today, but let’s step back and watch for a bit, see what’s going on down on the beach where the kids are.”

  “I told you there are no kids—”

  “I meant Jake and Sophie. They’re kids to me.”

  Hunter looked away, but followed when Cole urged him south into the forest. His plan was to go down and cross the road where they couldn’t be seen, and head north until they were on the other side of the compound and see what was over there.

  19

  Hunter’s stomach rumbled and his mouth felt as dry as the sand covered dunes beneath his feet. It had taken them what he guessed to be about an hour to circle around to a spot where they could observe the beach. The way the bluff jutted out, it blocked some of their view so they’d had to widen their circle and sneak up by going down to the beach and hugging the edge where it met the bluffs.

  He pulled his jacket tighter as the wind swept in off the lake, biting through his jacket. The air temperature was probably around mid-forties, but the wind made it feel twenty degrees colder. He hadn’t felt it so much in the forest, but out here in the open, he shivered. He glanced at his dad, and couldn’t tell if he was c
old. If he was, he wasn’t showing signs of it. Hunter straightened his shoulders. If his dad could handle it, so could he. He glanced longingly at the water, though. The sound of the surf teased his parched throat with relief only feet away, but it might as well be a mile. Once out of the shelter of the bluff, they’d be visible for a long distance on the shore if anyone happened to be looking that way.

  The closer they came to the compound, the closer they were forced to the bluffs until it felt like they were almost trying to climb them. The part that jutted out protected them somewhat, but it also blocked their view.

  His dad halted, holding out his arm to keep Hunter from moving past him. “What?”

  Holding a finger to his lips, his dad cupped his other hand behind his ear.

  Hunter focused, trying to hear something, and caught bits and pieces of conversation. It sounded like it was coming from only a few yards away. Eyes wide, he looked at his dad. Now what? If they moved forward, they risked being seen, but they couldn’t stay here forever.

  His father scanned the area, finally pointing to a dune on their left. It was only about a body length from them, but it was wide, and Hunter glanced to his right and realized it must have formed from sand washing down the side of the bluff to deposit on the beach. It was almost a berm of sand that stretched close to the water’s edge, its height tapering to the water. A few clumps of grass grew out of the top and sides of the dune. His dad held up three fingers, and then pointed at the dune again, his eyebrows raised. Hunter nodded. On the count of three, they would run to the dune.

  They were the longest three strides of his life as he bolted across the short distance, diving behind the cover of the dune. He sat with his back against the dune and examined his rifle to make sure no sand had lodged in it.

  His dad hadn’t come with him, but one look and he saw why. He’d been covering Hunter, his rifle at the ready. When no shouts of alarm were raised, his dad caught his eye and pointed to himself and raised the three fingers again. Hunter turned and got into a crouch, his rifle ready should he need to stand and fire. He nodded his readiness.

  When his dad landed beside him, Hunter stayed in the crouch, listening. All he heard were the snatches of conversation. Away from the bluff, he could understand the voices better, something about ‘the boy’ and he was sure they were speaking about Jake. His jaw clenched as he struggled to understand what was being said. The sound of the waves threatened to drown everything out. The good thing was that the people who were speaking would also have to contend with the sound of the water.

  His dad inched past Hunter, practically crawling as he moved further down the dune. The height of the dune wouldn’t let him crouch. Unsure, Hunter started to follow him, but his dad waved him back, cupping his ear again, and Hunter understood he was to keep listening. His dad pointed two fingers at his own eyes then pointed the fingers towards the compound. He would try to look at the house. Hunter gave him a thumbs up.

  “What are we gonna do with that boy? He’s gonna be hell to watch.” The voice was male, but was shaky, as if the man had tremors, but in his voice. Maybe he had them in his hands, too. Hunter could only hope.

  “I don’t know. Go ask Pat—it was his stupid idea to take them. Like we need more mouths to feed?”

  The first guy coughed, making Hunter wince and fumble his mask from his pocket, hooking it over his ears with one hand. After coughing, the man said something Hunter didn’t catch because the second man spoke over him. “… Pat thinks we need them to survive the winter, but I got news for him—we’re never gonna live unless we go find some food in town.”

  The second voice was deeper and rich. Solid, like a newscaster or something. For a moment it gave him a sense that everything would be okay, then he shook off the feeling. He’d been conditioned to feel that way over the years. It was funny how the media had done that so well. It made it even more disappointing when some of those same celebrities fell into career ending scandals. The voices had inspired such trust.

  “But what about the virus?” the first man asked.

  “Yeah? What about it? It didn’t seem to stop Pat from taking these kids. He must not be too worried.”

  “I guess not.” There was the sound of shuffling in the sand, and Hunter flattened himself against the dune. “But I don’t want to get close to either of them.”

  “Me neither. Pat wanted me to guard the boy and make him haul wood. I said hell no! If he wants wood hauled, he can either do it himself or watch the boy do it.”

  “It will be nice to have someone else do all the heavy work.” He coughed again.

  “Maybe, but what about the girl?”

  “She seems strong, and if she has babies, it’d be nice to have children around.” There was a wistful tone that caught Hunter off guard, but he scowled. Children?

  “You already sick of seeing my ugly mug every day?”

  The first guy chuckled. “Well, you gotta admit, she’s a lot prettier than you.”

  “Like you could do anything with someone like her.”

  Both men laughed, then the first said, “It’d be fun to try.”

  “Well, Sally would kill me if I touched her, but hell, if it wasn’t for Sally, I’d be at our cabin up north so it’d be kind of her fault if anything happened.” He laughed but then sobered. “I just wish this was like last winter up at our cabin. I haven’t said anything yet, but I might just see if I can get enough gas to get back there.”

  The first man joined in. “If only all of this had happened with some warning. I could have stocked up more. I was just getting ready to go to town when the virus hit—then I stayed away until you all showed up.”

  The second voice became gruff. “Well, Sally was worried about you. I tried telling her you’d be okay. I said, ‘Sal, Kurt’s gonna be fine.’ But she worried about her baby brother.” He chuckled.

  There was a pause and Hunter looked at his dad, but he hadn’t seemed to hear the conversation; his attention focused through the scope of his rifle. Was he getting ready to fire? Hunter tensed, unsure what he should do, but then realized his father was using the scope to see better, slowly pivoting the barrel from left to right. A clump of grass hid most of the barrel, but he worried it would be seen if anyone was looking.

  His dad turned to Hunter and mouthed Jake and Sophie’s names, pointing over the dune. Then he made an okay sign with his fingers. Hunter let out a deep breath. Then his dad held up his hand, three fingers raised, mouthing, ‘men’.

  His dad took another look, then scooted close to Hunter, whispering, “Jake and Sophie look unharmed, but both are wearing handcuffs. They must have put them on Jake after he brought that wood down. They have them just sitting there on the bench. The same guy who held a gun on Sophie earlier is talking to them. Neither of them seem to like what he’s saying, shaking their heads and saying no, from what I can see from my poor lip reading.”

  Hunter recounted the conversation he’d heard, his voice so quiet his dad had to lean in close to hear him. “I don’t think those guys are all that gung-ho about Pat’s plan, whatever that is.”

  “And I bet Pat is the one talking to Sophie and Jake.”

  “Could be. We gotta get them out of there. They said some creepy things about Sophie.” The thought of Sophie with any of these old guys made him want to vomit.

  His dad was still for a moment. “Okay. Here’s what I think— we should back off for now, and come back at first light, get them when they’re all confused with sleep.”

  “No—” before he could complete his protest, his dad clamped a hand over Hunter’s mouth.

  “Shh!” He pointed back to the bluff, and said, “On the count of three, go. I’ll cover you.”

  Glaring, Hunter nodded. They did the reverse of what they’d done before, and trudged back through the sand, not speaking until they were well out of range.

  “Dad, we can’t leave them there. They have plans to get Sophie pregnant!” He tugged on a clump of grass, using it as a foothold
to get up the hill. While it wasn’t a sheer drop like the bluff had been, it was a steep incline and his calves burned.

  “Those old men?” His dad looked askance at him, grabbing a different tuft of grass, and grunting as he pulled himself up.

  “That’s what it sounded like. Besides, we don’t know that there aren’t some younger men in there who we just haven’t seen yet.”

  “Exactly. That’s why we need to watch the house. We can take turns. One of us needs to find some food first though.”

  Hunter reached the top and looked down. “We probably should have brought some fishing poles.”

  “Hey, remember what Sophie taught us. We can find food in the woods, and we have the cans of tuna.”

  They kept an eye out for any of the group from the compound, but the area where they scavenged was over a mile away through the wood and even farther if they walked the winding road along the bluff.

  Hunter followed his father down a hill on the west side of the road into a ravine. A creek meandered through the bottom of the ravine and they followed it. He looked into the water, hoping to spot a fish, but his dad pointed. “Look over there.”

  Following his dad’s gesture, his gaze caught on a scattering of broken shells along the far bank. “Yeah?”

  “Sophie told us about them yesterday… or rather that’s one thing she looked for when looking for freshwater clams.”

  His dad showed him what he’d learned and they used a stick to pry eight of the clams from the creek bottom. Then his dad reached down and pulled a dirty yellow plastic grocery bag from where it was partially buried beneath dead leaves. Only the handles had been sticking out. He shook it, then handed it to Hunter. “Here, wash this out the best you can, then fill it with some water so we can keep these guys fresh.”

  Hunter did as he was told, finding one more clam as he washed the bag, then put all nine in the bag. The plastic had a tiny hole on the bottom, but as long as they stayed near the creek, they could fill it as needed.

  While he did that, his dad looked through the undergrowth, as though searching for something. Every few feet, he reached down and plucked something from the earth.

 

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