Apokalypsis | Book 5 | Apokalypsis 5

by Morris, Kate

  “Wren!” Elijah called out and attempted to hold her up.

  Roman jumped in to help. “I got her.”

  He looped an arm around her waist, then gave that up because she seemed way too weak to walk. He swept her into his arms and just carried her. She was sort of tall, but skinny as a rail and didn’t weigh much at all. Her body was like a wet rag in his arms, just lifeless and deflated like her hopes of rescuing her uncle.

  “Thanks,” Elijah said as Tristan led their way with his gun out front as if that were the usual way to enter and exit a hospital. The soldier that had helped them sent Tristan a nod that he returned. They passed by a group of people who were on the ground being handcuffed by two police officers and three soldiers.

  “Let’s get home,” he said outside and rushed toward the truck where Alex and Spencer were smoking cigarettes. “Let’s move.”

  Tristan jumped in the driver’s side again, and the rest got in after helping him heft Wren into the back next to Elijah, who cradled her. Alex was about to question them, but Roman shook his head. Elijah’s brother got a knowing expression on his face and nodded in return before flicking his cigarette away. Abraham rode in the front middle next to Tristan, who he seemed to greatly admire and look up to. Roman was beginning to understand why.

  “Man, let me hold her, brother,” Alex offered Elijah and pulled her onto his lap.

  “Thanks,” Elijah stated with sincerity.

  It freaked Roman out a little if he were being honest with himself that Wren was just being passed around like a deaf-mute. She wasn’t saying anything. Wasn’t crying or mumbling or doing anything at all. Her eyes seemed vacant and glassy like she was just checked out.

  Spencer rode up front, and Roman chose the last seat in the back next to Elijah, who looked exhausted.

  He told Tristan where to go, but soon, he had it figured out and let Roman know he was familiar with the rest of the way.

  “Hey, you look familiar,” Roman said to Elijah. “You play for Massillon?”

  “Yeah,” he answered quickly but added, “Well, I did.”

  “I get it,” he said, remembering that nobody’s lives were normal now. “Quarterback, right?”

  “Not anymore,” Elijah said quietly as if his dreams were crushed.

  Roman knew this guy was talented. His team had easily whipped Roman’s, and everyone talked endlessly about Elijah’s team’s undefeated season. It was understood that Elijah Brannon was slated for the NFL. All the local schools talked about him and the Massillon Tigers team on which he played. Hell, even ESPN covered their games, and their games were always broadcast on a local channel every Friday night. Not anymore. He was right. That was all behind them now.

  It wasn’t long before he felt the quarterback’s head fall softly against his shoulder. The guy was still breathing, so that was good, although it sounded wheezy and wet.

  “I want everyone to go home, secure your places tonight and get some damn rest,” Tristan ordered as he finally turned onto the road that would take Alex and Elijah home. Roman had seen their farm from a distance when he’d been in the woods a few weeks ago. He’d assumed it was empty. “Tomorrow, we’ll meet at three and have a meeting. Call it an allied forces meeting, if you will. We have a lot to cover.”

  “Hey, little brother,” Alex said, nudging Elijah’s leg gently. He met Roman’s eyes over Elijah’s blonde head. “Sorry.”

  “No problem, man. He’s been through hell, I figure.”

  Alex nodded as if he felt the weight of the world on his shoulders that weren’t quite as wide as his little brother’s. Elijah Brannon was the biggest person in the truck. And that said a lot. Roman was tall, but he wasn’t as thick and muscular as the quarterback. He was six-three, but he topped out at one-ninety-five on a good day. The quarterback probably had a good thirty or forty pounds on him and maybe an inch in height.

  “How much experience you got tending wounds like his?” Spencer asked from the front seat.

  He was quiet most of this night, but Roman suspected he and Tristan were both in the Army and probably friends before this all started. He seemed like an easy-going person, whereas Tristan was just all intensity and brooding, hard stares.

  “Not much,” Alex answered honestly.

  “None of us are doctors, but I might be able to help a little,” Spencer offered. “I’ve got a little combat experience tending wounds in the field. I can stay the night and help if you want.”

  “That’d be great, man. I appreciate it.”

  Tristan dug everything out of his pockets and handed them to Spencer. “Nurse gave us that stuff. It should help. Morphine, anesthetic, bandages.”

  “Great. Thanks. I can figure it out.”

  Roman also had zero experience, but he’d been studying as much as he could get his hands on the last few weeks, which wasn’t a whole lot. When the satellite worked on those rare occasions to bring in a channel, which was only one now, they were playing PSA’s on emergency care since so many of the hospitals were not in operation anymore. They offered depressing, updated stats on the dead and infected, news from the United States and around the world, and now the First Aid and self-care tutorials. He was pretty sure they wouldn’t be covering anything as intense as administering antibiotics in a shot or performing surgery like the doctor tried on her uncle tonight.

  Suddenly, Wren startled awake. “Jamie!”

  “Shh, it’s okay,” Alex cooed to her. “We’re home.”

  “Home?” she asked confusedly.

  Alex replied, “Back at the farm.”

  She slumped but sat away from him, on the edge of his knees as if she didn’t like Alex very well. From what Roman could figure out about the man, he seemed emotionless and cold, except for where his brother was concerned.

  “We’ll meet at our place,” Tristan said as they exited.

  “We’ll be there,” Alex returned. “Thanks for everything tonight.”

  “Tomorrow, I’ll get her guns and ammo to you guys when you come over,” Tristan promised.

  “Thanks again,” Alex said.

  Spencer offered a nod to Tristan before closing the door. Roman watched as they helped Wren to the house through the deep snow, her dog plodding along. Their small group of four just got whittled down to three. He knew the feeling. Brian was his best friend, and Harper was the adult of their group. They were all adults now, though. Jane’s father wasn’t doing so well, and Roman’s parents were both dead. Everyone’s groups were barely making it.

  Tristan drove him home next, although he offered to walk from their drive, which wasn’t too far. He’d insisted.

  “You did well tonight,” Tristan offered.

  Roman didn’t know how well he did. He shot and killed two men. That was something he had to carry now. “Thanks.”

  “You did, too, Abraham. That light show was just the trick we needed.”

  “Thank you, sir.”

  Tristan turned the conversation to him again, “How’s her dad?”

  “Not good,” Roman answered. “I don’t think the meds are working.”

  “Great,” Tristan commented sarcastically. “Get some rest if you can. Tomorrow, we’ve got a lot to work out.”

  “Thanks for the lift,” Roman answered and got out near the log home that was now their little community’s home. He tapped the roof twice, and Tristan pulled away.

  Jane was up and sitting at the kitchen table with a steaming mug between her small palms. The sun was just starting to rise as he went inside.

  “You didn’t wait up all night, did you?” he asked her.

  “Couldn’t sleep anyway,” she said and hugged him, to which he held her at arm’s length.

  “Let me get changed and cleaned up. We ended up at a hospital. Electric working?” he had to ask since nobody used lights at night anymore.

  “Oh,” she said softly. “Um, yes. I think so. It was.”

  Roman sneaked into the room he shared with his little brother Connor and grab
bed clean clothing. Then he showered, scrubbing his arms, hands, and face until they felt raw. Once he was dressed and had toweled his hair, Roman joined her in the living room after checking she’d locked the doors. She looked like a breath of fresh air and had a matching mug of hot tea waiting for him.

  “Thanks,” he said and finally hugged her. Jane felt like she always did, small, vulnerable, delicate, and that worried him like nothing else. She asked how it went, and Roman explained everything. She teared up and shook her head at the news of Jamie, who none of them even knew. Jane was like that- big hearted and caring, even though nobody was ever kind to her, especially at their former school. “How’s your dad? Any better?”

  “No,” she said and shook her head. “I’m afraid, Roman. If he can’t wake up enough to eat solid food, what then?”

  “We’ll figure it out.”

  “He did drink some. I gave him a blue Gatorade I found in the pantry. I made him sip some chicken broth.”

  “Good. That’s good, I think,” he said unsurely.

  “You should go to bed. You’ve been up for so long.”

  He smiled gently and slipped an arm around her back. “Let’s just rest here for a while. I’m not ready to turn in. Too keyed up.”

  “’Kay,” she agreed and actually snuggled closer, which was unusual for Jane. “I was so worried about you.”

  He kissed the top of her head. “I was worried about you being here without me. Noah still tripped out?”

  She nodded. “I don’t know what to do about him.”

  “We’ll figure that out, too.”

  “Didn’t you see the car out there?”

  “What car?” he asked and sat forward slightly.

  “I have some news,” she said with a soft frown. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

  “What’s going on? What car?”

  Jane sighed and sat up to swivel and look at him. “My mother’s here.”

  “What?” he hissed and sat up, too.

  “Sorry,” she apologized. “She’s upstairs asleep in the same room as Dez.”

  “Maureen?”

  She nodded. “I’ll tell you all about tomorrow.”

  His head was spinning.

  “Let’s just snooze. The sun will be up soon anyway.”

  He could tell she was exhausted as she slumped against him and snuggled. “Yeah, for now, let’s just snooze.”

  Within minutes, she was asleep against him, and Roman was left awake to ponder all that had happened in the last forty-eight hours and all that was still to come. He had a bad feeling that he couldn’t shake, and it wasn’t because he’d just witnessed a man die or helped rescue another from evil men. It had to do with their new houseguest.

  Chapter Eight

  Jane

  Jane made a late breakfast around noon, nothing special, just pancakes and some eggs Avery had given them. As usual, the aromas drew in a crowd. Roman was just coming in, stomping his feet to rid his boots of snow.

  “How’re the horses?” she asked as she deposited a plate of pancakes on the table.

  “Good. I think. Seem good,” he answered with a grin. “What do I know?”

  “You know plenty now,” she answered, returning his smile that was so infectious.

  “Why the fuck are you here?” Stephanie blurted behind her, making Jane whip around. Then she turned the other way to find Maureen standing at the threshold of the kitchen.

  “Why? I’m Jane’s mother, and I won’t be putting up with bullshit from some little bitch like you,” Maureen returned with anger and venom.

  “Hey, watch the language,” Roman said assertively and indicated his little brother coming down the stairs. “Both of you.”

  “Who are you?” Maureen asked impatiently. Then she lit a cigarette.

  “No smoking,” Jane stated and snatched it from her mother’s lips. “Dad’s sick. You aren’t smoking…anything in here.”

  “Oh, aren’t we just the one in charge!” Maureen exclaimed and cocked her head sideways, sending her dark hair cascading over one shoulder.

  Jane had seen her do this move many times to entice and manipulate men. Her mother was still beautiful, but like most beautiful women, she knew it and used it like a weapon from her arsenal of so many others.

  “Sit. Let’s eat,” Jane commanded everyone as Connor came down the stairs and hugged around her waist.

  “Yours?” her mother asked snidely.

  “Sit,” Jane repeated with less patience.

  Once everyone, including Dez and Noah, was seated at the table, Jane introduced her mother. Then she introduced everyone to her in return, explaining who they were.

  “What’d you all come here for?” Maureen asked.

  “Might ask the same of you,” Stephanie returned with a snort and took a huge bite of pancake as Maureen shot daggers across the table. Last night after her mother’s arrival, Jane had sent Stephanie to bed.

  “Seems awfully crowded around here. How you gonna feed all these people all winter?” her mother asked her.

  “We go out, go on trips to town to find supplies. That’s how,” Roman answered for her.

  Jane’s stomach felt weak and queasy, a feeling she often had around Maureen growing up. She’d always made her nervous. There had never been that comforting, motherly bond with her. Maureen always pushed her away, explaining that she didn’t want her to grow up weak, that she was toughening her up. Jane realized after moving in with Nana Peaches that Maureen was just incapable of kindness.

  Roman patiently explained their trips, their new friends, and how they’d escaped the city.

  “Yeah, well, I came there looking for you,” Maureen said to her as if she were angry. “Where’s my mother?”

  “Nana Peaches is dead, Maureen,” Jane said, her voice cracking on the word, ‘dead.’

  “Well, shit. How? Virus?”

  “We’ll discuss it later,” she answered and indicated Connor, who was listening with rapt attention.

  “Why? ‘Cuz of the kid?” she asked on a snort. “You’re gonna baby him and make him a sissy. Life’s hard, harder now.”

  “We’ll see to Connor’s care,” Roman said assertively. “Don’t worry about it. He’s my responsibility.”

  “Pfft,” she said, rolling her eyes as if he were an idiot.

  Jane cut her mother off before she could be rude to Roman again, “How did you get out?”

  “Get out of where?” Noah asked.

  “The clink,” Stephanie interjected, which made Noah cough on his water.

  “Oh, sorry.”

  “She’s a murderer,” Stephanie added.

  “Aren’t we just little Miss information?” Maureen commented in a vindictive way. “And so what? Asshole got what he deserved. So keep that in mind, toots.”

  Stephanie just laughed once, haughtily, and continued eating.

  “You didn’t answer,” Roman reminded her.

  “There was a break,” she finally said after staring daggers at Stephanie, who seemed oblivious. “A riot.”

  “And you escaped?” she asked her mother.

  “Basically. Wasn’t like they were gonna be able to keep the place open much longer. They brought infected people there. Idiots. That spread it in the prison. Pretty soon, there were more infected than inmates. Some people hatched a plan—”

  “You mean, you hatched a plan,” Jane said, knowing Maureen so well. She was probably running her whole cell block within the first twenty-four hours of being there.

  She just chuckled in answer. “Anyway. We got out. I found a car and came here.”

  “By yourself?” Roman asked.

  “Not at first,” she answered without explaining.

  For Jane, she didn’t need to explain. She knew her mother so well. She probably stabbed people in the back with false promises if they helped her get away. Then she kicked them to the curb when she was done with them.

  “Let’s get this cleaned up. We have a lot to do before the meeting,”
Roman said, standing up and taking his and Connor’s plates to the kitchen as if he were irritated.

  “Testy,” Maureen said, craning her neck to see Roman retreating.

  Jane didn’t like the look in her mother’s eyes. It was interest. Maureen slept with younger men. She also slept with older ones. Probably women in prison. She had no limitations, and from Jane’s experience, no standards, either.

  “I want to talk to you,” Jane told her and also retreated. “Can you guys manage putting away the leftovers and cleaning up?” she asked her friends and Stephanie. Noah nodded, Dez mumbled something, and Stephanie rolled her eyes.

  “Fine,” she said on an exaggerated sigh.

  “Roman,” Jane said to him in the kitchen. “Let’s go upstairs. I need to talk to you and my mother alone.”

  She led the way without waiting for confirmation from either of them. Once inside the guest bedroom, which was where Destiny and her mother used to sleep and where her mother had slept last night, Jane shut the door.

  “Have a seat,” she said to Maureen.

  Roman perched against the desk near the window.

  “What’s up?” Maureen asked.

  “You can’t stay here,” she said bluntly.

  “Excuse me?”

  Jane raised her chin slightly. She’d never stood up to her mother before, so this was weird.

  “You can’t stay here,” she repeated. “Not with Dad out like he is. You have to go.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “The house is in my name now with Dad being down,” she answered her mother’s crude expletive. “I want you to go. There’s a farmhouse not even a mile from here where we’re keeping horses we brought. You can stay there. The heat’s on. It’s gas.”

  “Who do you think you are?” Maureen asked angrily and stood.

  “We’ll take you there and get you settled. We’ll give you food, too. In exchange, you could help out with the animals over there. If you don’t want to, that’s fine, but you won’t get supplies from us if you can’t help, too.”

  “Listen to me, young lady,” Maureen started.

  Jane interrupted her, “No. I won’t. I used to have to listen to you all the time. I was left abandoned until Nana Peaches came for me when you were locked up. That didn’t work out so well for me. I’m in charge of me now. When Dad comes around, he can make the decision as to whether or not you can stay in his home. For now, you can’t stay here.”