Cady’s silence didn’t help. Bailey slowed, growing silent and pensive to match her mother. She pulled her hand from the freezer, letting the door close softly as she turned back to the counter. “Mom? Where’s the vaccine?” Suspicion darkened her eyes. “What did you do? Did you throw it away? Mom, say something.”
Truth or lie time. She couldn’t turn back from this decision just like she couldn’t walk away from giving Bailey that shot last night. Cady squared her shoulders, throwing back her head. “I got my way.” Let the blocks fall where they may.
Confused, Bailey furrowed her brow. “But your way was me getting the vaccine. That’s what you wanted.” She blinked rapidly, considering all the options. After a moment, she folded her arms and studied her mom. “No. You wouldn’t have given it to me without me knowing about it. You… That’s violating my personal rights.” Bailey’s blinking worked to clear the tears from obstructing her view. They traced lines down her adolescent cheeks.
Cheeks that, thanks to Cady, would thin even more and have a chance at seeing adulthood.
Immediately on the defensive, even though she’d already decided that Bailey had the right to be upset, Cady’s hackles raised. “Girl, you need to figure out that you might not like me all the time, you might not even love me very much, but you are my world and I’ll do whatever I need to do to protect you. We aren’t friends. I’m your mom – that will always, and I do mean always, come first. Do you understand that? I honestly don’t care if you like me or not. I don’t care if you love me. As long as you’re alive to make that decision, I’m good. Do you understand that? I love you enough for both of us.” Cady refused to cry. She had made the right decision. She stood by it. She couldn’t care what Bailey thought.
“But, Mom, this isn’t fair.” Bailey shook her head, ready to argue more with Cady.
Holding up her hand, Cady tucked her chin and lowered her voice. “No, you know what isn’t fair? Beth Stark finding out she has cancer and having to deal with it without telling her children because her husband didn’t want to be inconvenienced. What isn’t fair is your grandpa dying of Stage IV cancer and Grandma not telling us he has it so we can say goodbye. What isn’t fair is the fact that I was even put into the position of having to choose between your or me.”
Cady couldn’t stop. All of the injustice piled upon her, breaking through the breach and splitting into the tension between them. “You think I want to miss out on you growing up? Or the fact that the world I’ve raised you in won’t even be here, so I can’t even protect you with standard knowledge. What’s not fair is that I had to choose between watching you die or you watching me die. Neither is an option. I have plans in place so that you won’t have to deal with me dying.” She thrust her finger at the countertop and ground her teeth together. “Not being able to call my closest friend and warning her about what is happening isn’t fair. Not reaching my parents to see how they’re doing, isn’t fair. None of this is fair.” She pulled back, slapping her hand flat on the counter. “You got a vaccine that no one else on earth gets to have. You get to benefit from that. I would stop whining about not fair and accept it.”
Jerking back from the verbal assault, Bailey bit her lower lip, half-shrugging. “But if you loved me, you wouldn’t have taken my choice from me.” She shook her head in a tight side-to-side motion as if she couldn’t move too much.
Sighing, Cady added with extreme patience. “No, honey, again, I’m your mother. I’m not your friend. You’re not old enough to make your mind up and someday, I’ll get to say I told you…” But reality dawned on Cady. No, she wouldn’t. She wouldn’t get to say anything like that to Bailey. Because Cady had given her daughter the shot that would save her and left herself exposed to the virus that would most likely kill her.
She’d made that choice. Now she had to live with it and so did Bailey.
Bailey huffed, spinning away from Cady and disappearing into the pantry past the fridge. Boxes rattled around, shuffling and shaking in the pantry. She emerged again with a box of raisin bran cereal and granola bars. She ignored Cady as she poured herself a bowl for breakfast then passed her mom to get to the table.
Slapping the counter, Cady turned, claiming a seat at the table across from Bailey. “Look, I know you’re upset. I get it. But when you’re a mom, you’ll understand.” Their time was limited, they couldn’t waste it by being petty. Not that Bailey’s emotional upset was petty, but Cady had to believe her daughter could move past it. She had to. There wasn’t time for anything else.
Bailey paused in her movements, lifting her gaze to pierce her mother. “You betrayed me. I don’t know how I can recover from that.”
“Oh, for the love, Bailey. This isn’t a teen drama. You better figure out fast how you’re going to get over it. I’m teaching you how to take care of yourself and this place after I die. I don’t have a lot of time to do it. Who knows when we’ll get exposed to this virus.” Cady leaned over and drew scratch paper and a pen from the lazy Susan in front of her.
She continued, as if Bailey had agreed to move on. Cady honestly didn’t care at that point. The timeline urgency had shifted. “We’ll start by fitting you with your own gun. I’m so glad I learned from Scott. I feel safer already. I need to practice more, but I think you’ll pick it up fairly fast. He told me that as long as you make it a habit – wearing one and handling one – it will become natural right away. I’ll probably get you the Slim. It’s small enough you can handle it, but big enough to be taken seriously.” Cady tapped the end of the pen on her front tooth and stared into space over Bailey’s head. “Yeah, that’s what we’ll do. Hold on.”
Bailey stared after her like she had no idea what was going on. She ducked her head and took a bite of cereal, chewing mechanically.
Cady left the table, leaving her note-taking supplies. She disappeared into the pantry as well, but pulled up the floor to get into the crawl space. She dropped down into the space and ducked as she crouch-walked to the end of the space and took a right. Everything she’d been collecting was down there – well, most of it.
She would be stupid to leave her home with how fortified it had become with supplies.
The backup gun safe had a dial lock. She spun in the code and withdrew a Taurus Slim with a blued finish. She grabbed a box of ammunition and returned to the entrance of the crawlspace. Extra holsters that weren’t the fanciest but were more practical had been stacked beside the opening, furthest from the air vents in case of flooding. All items were protected in a waterproof container. If she could, she would feel pride at what she’d hoarded. But no matter what she’d been prepared for, she’d dropped the ball on the most important thing – making sure Bailey was a part of her preparations. She should have forced the issue instead of letting Zach’s derision keep her back.
Climbing out of the hole, Cady returned the door cover to its place and made her way to the table. She handed the piece carefully to Bailey. “You need to make sure you’re always carrying this. We’ll go out and practice more shooting and handling after breakfast. Keep the barrel away from you and don’t ever hold your finger on the trigger until you’re ready to shoot.”
Bailey narrowed her eyes, but Cady waved her hand, cutting her off. “Look, I don’t really care, if you’re mad at me or if you like guns or not. You want to survive? Great, I just made it possible. I don’t want you to get sick and I had the means to make sure it won’t happen.” She rounded the table and approached Bailey. “Let me check the injection site and then you can take your anger out on the targets outside, okay?”
“Mom, I really don’t know if I can handle you dying.” Baily fought tears, her efforts more than noticeable as Cady watched her.
“I understand.” Cady nodded. If she dwelled on her decision and actions any further, she’d go crazy. “But it’s over and done with. Let’s make the best of it.”
Bailey pushed at the gun Cady had set on the table. “Do I really have to learn this stuff?” She was back to a petty w
hine that sounded like she was really trying to be normal.
“If you don’t, this will all be in vain, Bailey.” Cady didn’t want to consider it an option. Everyone dying wasn’t something she wanted to tolerate, but the virus was out and she’d done everything she could to make sure her daughter was safe.
Who knew who else she could’ve saved.
Chapter 2
Scott
Scott leaned forward, pushing seek on the Bronco’s radio through yet another channel of fuzz. Finally, sound other than static greeted his newest search and he leaned back, glancing at Jason. His nephew had his ankle crossed over his knee, tapping his fingers on the top part of his boot with a rapid staccato that screamed frustration.
The light from the dash and Jason’s random phone checking illuminated the cab in the near-midnight darkness. They’d been driving north and neither had been able to even think about sleeping. Multiple stops to let Ranger pee had slowed their progress as well.
As if trying to come up with something to say, Jason pointed toward the radio. “Do you think they have this song on loop?” Jason shifted in his seat. He checked his cell phone, swiping the screen and answering a text. His face tightened as if he fought tears and he looked out the window.
The same song had been playing on the station since they’d left Boise a few hours ago. They should have been out of range of the station, but the faint waves reached the boosted antenna of Scott’s Ford Bronco.
Scott wasn’t dumb. He could see a longing in Jason that only loss would bring about. “They probably do have it on loop. I’m not sure how many people care about the songs on the radio when they’re sick and many will…” He didn’t need to say it. The word they were both avoiding like the germs they’d already been exposed to. He didn’t want to bring up his sister’s death – Jason’s aunt -when they had both just found out as they were pulling from the drive.
Glancing at Jason’s phone, Scott shifted up and back on his seat. Broncos were the best for practicality purposes, but not for comfort. “Who are you texting?”
“Grandma.” Jason pulled his cell closer to his face and texted furiously. After a moment, he glanced up at Scott. “Uncle Scott, can we go back? Please? Grandma said she’s all by herself. I asked her for a selfie and she looks worse. I know she’s sick. We can’t leave them there.” His lower lip quivered as he begged his uncle to return for the rest of their family. “I mean, why did you come down anyway?”
When they’d left, Scott had taken the back roads, uncomfortable with what may or may not be construction stalled on the highway north. They hadn’t gotten far and he rubbed at his sleep-deprived eyes. Blinking hard to find focus and not to clear the tears out of his eyes – that would be his story, if asked – he studied the trees they passed and the lighter, almost non-existent traffic.
Why had he come to Boise? He’d wanted to bring his family home with him, back to north Idaho where he was prepared for just about anything in the wilds north of Coeur d’Alene. He’d wanted his family together, but his mother had sent him on his way with only his nephew in tow. He wanted to get back home, because there was nowhere else he would feel comfortable getting sick and dying at.
That’s what he had to look forward to. He’d been exposed and the sickness was proving to be more fatal than originally assumed.
His sister had already died in the hospital. She’d been pregnant and gone into the hospital sick with the virus Scott’s neighbor, Cady Warren, had warned him about.
Cady had been involved with the man who had invented the virus, the end of the world sickness. Scott still hadn’t wrapped his mind around that one.
But Jason had a point. If Scott wasn’t going to try to bring his parents back with him, then why had he gone down there? He’d already been exposed to the virus, multiple times, and he wasn’t sick feeling – not yet. There was nothing to lose and his family to gain.
He’d given up too fast. Scott knew better.
True, he didn’t know what the exact incubation period was, but he had to have felt something by then. Rumor had the time between exposure and symptom onset at three days, but in Scott’s non-scientific mind other factors had to have a play in that – like immunity strength, fatigue, nutrition, and other things he didn’t know about. He was exhausted, that alone should have shortened his incubation period.
A sign caught the light from his headlights, declaring an upcoming rest area and grabbing his attention. The reflective green sign told him to take the next right in three-quarters of a mile.
The decision wasn’t a hard one, but it was one that required putting Jason in danger and himself. Heading back into the depths of an urban area during a pre-apocalyptic period was not what was taught in the prepper handbooks. No, you were supposed to get out and get out fast. Heading back in wasn’t an option and he’d never seen it covered in any of the resources he’d scoured.
He took the exit, stopping in a parking spot and clenching his hands on the steering wheel. Scott would be endangering his nephew, if they returned. But at the same time, Jason had been exposed multiple times already. They both had nothing to lose except peace of mind.
Scott turned toward Jason, his jaw tight with resolve. “Let’s go back, but be prepared. Grandma and Grandpa haven’t been feeling well. We can’t force them to come with us, but we can try.” He pierced his nephew with his gaze, hoping he would understand the severity of what they were going back to. But that was hard to expect, even Scott wasn’t exactly sure what they faced.
While it had only been half the night, evidence that things were getting worse fast was evidenced in the dying availability of the radio channels, the worsening selfie from Mary, and the traffic that they passed and could count on one hand. Where was everyone? Wasn’t the freeway supposed to be packed with empty cars and wrecks and so much destruction at the end?
Not this apocalypse. Everyone was home. All the cars were parked in their driveways.
That fact made him feel even worse. Nothing could have prepared him for this. He couldn’t have prepared Jason for anything with his weak warning. Scott cleared his throat and hardened his tone. “Jason, I need to hear you say you understand. We’re going back and Grandma and Grandpa aren’t any better. They might not want to go with us. Do you understand me?”
“Yes.” Jason’s voice cracked but he nodded, his smile hopeful but nervous. A flash of fear cracked behind his gaze.
Good, Scott hoped he was scared. Fear would keep him on edge. Nothing else but being alert would keep him alive, if there were looters or crazy people out.
Scott reached down and felt for the cool metal of his shotgun. He just had to make sure it was still there – like a security blanket, but with a whole lot more fire.
They turned back to Boise, the moon shining through their windshield instead of through the back.
Taking a side road, Scott maneuvered them onto the highway to make fast work of the trip back in.
The time passed fast and in no time signs alerted to travelers to the mere miles left to Boise.
On the outskirts of the large city, Scott pulled into a service station. At a pump, he pulled out his wallet and approached the double doors to the convenience store. He needed coffee and Jason would need something with caffeine and sugar to stay awake.
At the doors, he glanced back at the truck and waved at Jason. Turning to push on the door, he stopped. He pushed again, studying the rectangle of the panels side by side. Pushing on the door again, he couldn’t understand why he couldn’t open it. Peering through the glass, he shaded his view with his hand. “Hello?” The open sign glowed neon green, indicating the station was definitely open. He stood back and stared at the light as if it would answer some magical question even he wasn’t aware of.
After a moment, the light flipped off. Scott jerked back, blinking at the now closed sign. What gas station was closed on such a normally busy highway? He checked his analog watch. Had he missed the open hours by a minute or something? He blinked at th
e glow-in-the-dark face of his watch. No, it was twenty-two after the hour. He glanced at the door, a placard declaring it was open twenty-four hours.
Confused at what was going on, Scott peered inside again. Maybe he’d missed something. There were some lights on in the back, but they only dimly offered any light to the front and it was minimal compared to the parking lot lights that made it difficult to see inside the glass.
The sight of a double-barrel shotgun pointed at his head had him lifting his hands slowly and backing away from the door. The shotgun jerked to the side and Scott nodded, but paused before turning away. “I need gas.” He called out, pointing toward his rig. “I can pay. I just need gas.” He didn’t want to break into his gas stores, not at that point. Not when he still had to make it into Boise and then back out.
A whiskered man came into view from the darkened depths of the gas station. A scowl hid any sign of understanding from his expression. He called through the glass with his gun aimed squarely on Scott. “You need to use your card – debit or credit, I don’t care. I’m not letting you in here. You might be carrying.”
“I am carrying. I understand. I’ll do the credit on the island. Thank you.” Scott nodded slowly, turning back to his rig. Jason moved to unbuckle his seatbelt but Scott shook his head imperceptibly and mouthed, “Stay there.”
He inserted his debit card and filled his rig. The gas tanks on the top needed to be topped off as well as the custom rear-tank he’d added a year ago. He had a sinking sensation he wouldn’t be able to get gas again until he got closer to home, if at all.
180 Days and Counting... Series Box Set books 1 - 3 Page 25