“Help me!” she cried through her vomiting.
“We can’t,” the group told her. “There’s nothing we can do.”
“Then just kill me,” she begged. “Just kill me.”
Everyone hesitated, looking around at each other. It was Fred, a former Marine, who took the shot. He was the only person who had killed anyone before, and he still wept like a baby when they donned hazmat suits and carefully wrapped the woman’s body before burial.
“Didn’t have a choice,” Buckle explained to Adam, who had not been there. “What else could we have done? Just leave her there to die slowly and risk all our lives? It was too late for any treatment.”
Adjusting to the fact that there was no end in sight was the hardest part of the Evers’ new life. Amy, who had her whole life been able to accomplish whatever she wanted to by fighting for it, had to resign herself to a relative helplessness. Her survival instincts had not been used at this basic of a level, but the skills she had used to avoid her father began to translate to avoiding blood pox. For her, this looked like learning new skills like sewing and shooting. Every morning, she practiced with a handgun and crossbow out in the fields, shooting birds out of the sky or empty cans from a fence. Like Adam, her skin darkened to a golden tan. Derek, as if making up for lost time, went on hunting runs with Buckle and Fred. Sometimes they were gone for weekends at a time; Derek became a master at starting fires, disappearing in brush, and skinning deer. Bailey the puppy grew quickly and by the time the last autumn leaves fell, she weighed 60 pounds. Derek never got Buckle to explain his reasoning for the name or if Jenna still crossed Buckle’s mind. He always found a way to change the subject.
Missouri never gets much snow. This year was no different and by the first of December, Mineral Point just had a paper-thin layer of ice and flurries. Buckle’s hives were wrapped up tight and all the vegetables from the garden had been picked, cleaned, and canned. Amy traded some of Buckle’s honey for winter clothes. The epidemic slowed down, but only because everyone who could get infected had become so. The water and electricity were officially shut off, making Mineral Point essentially a frontier town. Before the Internet crashed, Buckle read the death toll was estimated at 5% of the total population. Mortality rate was 85%. International travel to and from the States had been banned by the United Nations. The numbers were shocking; Derek and Amy could hardly believe that just six months ago they were eating barbeque while Buckle told them a crazy story from South America. Amy had never heard from Ming again after those last ten texts. Everything had changed.
“Can I go out to the woods with Roadie and Bailey?”
It was Monday morning around 1pm. Derek sat at the table with Buckle, cleaning their guns. Adam stood in the kitchen, the two dogs framing him.
“What are you going to do out there?” Amy asked.
She was melting snow. Before turning to Adam, she filled a glass and stuck in a LifeStraw.
“Hunt squirrels,” Adam said.
“What on earth for? We don’t need squirrel meat.”
“For lure-making. Pat said he’d show me if I brought him some squirrel tails.”
“Ok,” Amy sighed. “Just be careful. And go over the barricade, don’t climb the fence.”
She drank from the straw as she watched her son and the dogs leave the house. Derek looked up and smiled at her. She sat at the table with them, watching them work. Adam was only gone for about a half-hour when he came back. He was not alone.
“Guys, I found her in the woods,” he began to explain, but Buckle had already thrown back his chair in shock.
She looked about twenty, with only a thin jacket, tennis shoes, and a bundle she held against her chest. The woman’s skin was tinted blue. She looked around the house like a scared rabbit, as if she might start running any second. Buckle’s face turned red.
“What the hell!” he bellowed. “Why’d you bring her back here?”
“I’m sorry!” Adam cried. “I know the rules, but guys, she has a baby!”
Buckle was breathing like an ox. Amy rushed forward at the word “baby,” and led the woman to the couch. They started whispering furiously to each other, and Amy looked at the others.
“He’s right, she has a baby. And it needs to be fed.”
The woman started crying. Amy took the bundle from her and started towards the cellar before Buckle stepped in her way.
“Never show your supplies,” he said firmly.
He had calmed down a little, but his eyes were still crazed. Derek hadn’t seen him this way in a while, not since the infected woman climbed over the barricade and asked to be shot.
“Buckle…” Amy began.
“No. You stay. Cover her eyes.”
It seemed pointless now, but instead of going to the cellar, Buckle went out the front door. Derek watched him head towards the second entrance, which was in Fred’s house. Buckle knocked on the door. Derek wondered if Buckle would tell him what he was after, but Buckle returned through the front without Fred or any sort of altercation. Buckle tossed Amy the baby formula with a grunt.
“Lucky I got it,” he said, throwing himself in a chair to glare at the woman.
Amy said nothing and heated the formula on the wood-burning stove. The woman had stopped crying, but still looked terrified. Adam sat close by, his head down. When the formula was warm, Amy returned with a bottle - another of Buckle’s random prepping items - and gave it to the woman. She held it in her hand for a moment before almost dropping it. Amy caught it.
“Derek, get her some food and water. She’s almost passing out, she’s so weak.”
Derek avoided Buckle’s look and prepared some food. They already had some out for dinner, so he didn’t have to go back to the cellar. Canned peaches, some canned turkey, and tea would have to do.
“Is this ok?” he asked Amy.
“Great.”
Derek sat on the couch beside the woman and tried to hand her the food, but she wouldn’t take it. He looked to Amy for help.
“Geez, Derek, help her!” Amy said, exasperated.
“Ok, ok,” Derek replied.
He held out the bowl of peaches and spooned a small slice into the woman’s mouth. She chewed. Derek continued to feed her bites of peaches and turkey until the water was boiling. Adam jumped up to make the tea. Amy, who had been feeding the baby this whole time, patted its back.
“What’s your name?” she asked the woman.
“Megan,” she replied.
She looked better after the food and even managed to smile at Adam when he brought her the tea. Buckle still glowered darkly from his chair.
“What were you doing out there?” he asked, somehow making the question sound like an accusation.
“I got lost,” Megan replied. “My husband got sick and…”
“You’ve been exposed!” Buckle cried, leaping up.
“Oh, for God’s sake!” Amy shouted. “You didn’t react that way when you knew Derek was exposed! She’s not showing any symptoms!”
“No, I’m not sick!” Megan said. “I already had it. I got better.”
Buckle stood behind his chair, frowning. Her words hung in the air for a moment. The baby started to make sleepy noises. The dogs came over from where they had been lying by the stove to see what the bundle was.
“You..you’re a survivor?” Amy pressed.
“Yes. My husband and I both had it. I survived. He didn’t.”
“What about the baby?” Buckle asked. “Is it sick?”
“It’s not mine,” Megan admitted. “She’s my sister’s. She got exposed right away, months ago, and I took the baby when she went into quarantine. When things got crazy, Blake and I, my husband, took off. We’ve been in Georgia. That’s where we got sick. Britney was fine. Someone took care of her. When I got better, I took care of Blake. They didn’t want me to, but I had to. I watched him die.”
Tears started to form in Megan’s eyes. Derek looked at Amy, who was clearly fascinated by this news.<
br />
“She has immunity,” Amy said, almost to herself.
“We don’t know that,” Buckle asserted. “Besides, you know the rules. No outsiders.”
“My god, what do you want us to do, Buckle? Send her back out there with the baby?”
“We’ll give her some supplies.”
“They won’t last. That’s just prolonging the inevitable.”
Derek could tell Buckle was struggling. He made angry sounds and stomped off to his bedroom. Without any official word, Amy decided that meant Megan and the baby were staying.
“I’ll sleep out here,” Derek offered. “You girls can bunk together.”
Megan thanked Amy and Derek over and over again, and looked at Adam.
“Thank you,” she said to him. “Britney would have died out there, I just know it.”
It was only 2 pm, but Megan was exhausted. Amy took her to the bedroom where she arranged the blankets for her and brought a basket for Britney. Derek sat closer to Adam, folding his hands.
“Are you going to yell at me, too?” Adam asked, trying to sound like he was joking.
“You did the right thing,” Derek assured him. “Buckle is just wound up. You know how he is. But he knows it was the right thing, too.”
Adam shrugged. Derek patted his shoulder and rose.
“All settled?” he asked as Amy came out of the bedroom.
“I think so,” she said.
She glanced at Buckle’s bedroom door as she re-entered the living room. Derek made a face and she smiled.
“What was that about?” she asked.
“Rules,” Derek said. “I get it. I mean, he took a chance with us.”
“Everyone will understand,” Amy said. “I mean, it’s a baby.”
“I suppose it would be wrong to keep the baby and let Megan go.”
“What! Of course it would be wrong!”
“I know, I know,” Derek said, raising his hands. “I’m just thinking of what the others might suggest.”
“They’re not monsters,” Amy insisted.
She cleared Megan’s food from the coffee table. She considered giving the rest of the turkey to the dogs, but threw it into the double-bagged trash instead. Derek watched her, wondering what she was thinking about. Probably Megan’s story about getting better. Who knows if it was even true? They all stayed inside for the rest of the afternoon, Buckle included. He did emerge from his room for dinner, but said little. Adam apologized, but Buckle just mumbled something about Adam doing what he had to. He seemed uneasy, and instead of joining the family for their nightly board game, he stood at the window.
“Expecting someone?” Derek asked.
Buckle didn’t respond. Exasperated by all the moping, Derek sent Adam and Amy to bed and settled himself on the couch. They went to bed early and rose early in this new life. Buckle stood by the window for at least another half-hour, just staring.
“You’re creeping me out, man,” Derek said into the darkness. “Go to bed.”
For the first time in what seemed like an eternity, Buckle moved and went back to his bedroom.
Thank God, Derek thought, settling into his blankets.
The dogs slept tangled up together in the hall; everything seemed quiet and peaceful. Derek slept deeply for who knows how many hours, until the barking woke him. Derek shot up and saw lights through the window. Without his boots, he flung open the door and poked his head out. He caught someone’s arm as they ran past.
“What’s going on?” he asked.
“Somebody’s attacking the barricade!” Pat shouted, a flashlight in one hand, shotgun in the other.
Derek ran back into the house, grabbing his gun and shouting to rouse the house. Buckle was already up, two pistols in his hands.
“The barricade!” Derek cried.
Adam ran across the hall from his room to wake his mother. The dogs were barking hysterically, running in circles.
“Are you loaded?” Buckle asked.
“Yeah.”
Adam came charging down the hall, his face a ghastly white.
“They’re gone!” he screamed. “Both gone!”
Chapter 10
Derek rushed to the room. Sure enough, the bed was empty. He checked the windows, the bathroom, anywhere, for any sign of struggle or clues about where they might have gone. He heard a cry and saw that Britney was still in her basket. Derek picked her up, his head racing. Adam stood in the doorway, fighting back sobs.
“I bet that bitch took her,” Buckle said.
Adam and Derek both turned to him.
“What do you mean?”
“I think she was bait. Got Amy as some kind of hostage. Just walked out the door with her. Wanted to find out about our supplies. Now her gang is here and we gotta figure out a plan.”
Derek could hardly believe his ears. He stared into Britney’s face as if the baby might provide some answers. She just looked confused at being awoken. The only light in the room was the survival candle burning in the bathroom and another one on the windowsill. Outside, Derek could see people rushing around.
“I’m going out there,” Derek said. “I’m going to find her.”
“Don’t be stupid,” Buckle said. “They’ll get you, too.”
“I’m good at hiding,” Derek insisted. “I’ve hunted at night. I know what I’m doing now.”
“This isn’t hunting, Derek,” Buckle countered. “This is war!”
“It’s the same thing! Strike before they see you, right? That’s all there is to it.”
“Except deer don’t got guns!”
The brothers stared down at each other. Derek’s mind whirred. Buckle was right, but Derek was not going to just let Amy die out there. Hostage? No way that that would fly. This wasn’t a standoff. It would be a massacre, with one side winning. He could already hear gunshots. Adam bit his lip. He chewed so hard he drew blood.
“I’m going out there. I won’t do anything stupid, I promise. Get me the night vision goggles.”
Buckle could tell Derek was not going to give up. Shaking his head, he went down to the cellar and emerged with a pair of $500-dollar goggles. It was one of the most expensive “non-essential” prepping items Buckle had. It was pretty damn essential now.
“What can I do?” Adam asked, wiping the blood from his mouth.
“You stay here,” Derek said.
“What? I…”
“You stay here and shoot anyone who comes in who is not someone you know,” Derek finished.
He handed his son the shotgun. Adam suddenly looked very small. A lump formed in Derek’s throat and he embraced Adam, holding the shotgun out of the way.
“I love you, Adam,” he said in a hoarse tone. “You keep the dogs here. You know what you’re doing. You’re strong. Don’t forget that.”
Adam wept into his father’s chest. Derek held him tightly for a few minutes, and then began to pull away. Adam grabbed him harder.
“Buckle…” Derek said.
Buckle put his hands on Adam’s shoulders.
“Come on, son,” he said softly. “We’ll light some candles so you can see.”
After some resistance, Adam finally let go. After putting on his boots, Derek went out the front door without looking back. He could hear Adam crying, and it was almost too much to bear. He closed the door behind him. Leaning against the house, he put on the goggles. The night erupted into green. Crouching down, Derek crossed the street and ran off into the field past the barricade. The tall grass was dead, but still present enough that it provided some cover. He made his way to the fence that wrapped the whole town. There was barbed wire on top, but Derek knew the spot where the wire was loose, a secret put in place for situations just like this. He carefully removed the unsecured bail, which covered about two feet of fence, and clambered over. Derek headed off into the woods. He had no coat, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins was enough to keep him warm. For weapons, all he had was a knife in his boot. He prayed he wouldn’t have to use
it. Derek crept through the winter forest, searching for any sign of a camp. The snow crunched beneath his feet and while it likely imitated the sound of animal movement, in Derek’s mind it seemed like a harsh announcement of his presence. He would freeze every few moments, listening. Distant yells and gunshots met his ears. As he crept closer, the noise grew louder. A fire popped up in his goggles and Derek pushed them on top of his head to see.
Campfire.
Derek got on his belly, the snow itching his chin like icy fingers. He heard voices. Snake-like, Derek pulled himself along the ground until he could hear clearly. Four silhouettes circled the fire. Derek reached into his boot for his knife. He listened carefully, snow soaking through his shirt.
“We should go out there,” a female voice said.
“We’re supposed to stay here and watch her,” another woman’s voice insisted.
“Megan’s here! Besides, she’s not going to go running off into a gunfight.”
“I don’t trust Megan. She wasn’t behind the plan. That’s why she got picked to be the bait.”
There was mumbling and other sounds of arguing. Derek continued to creep forward, practically holding his breath. He got close enough to where he could identify who was speaking. The first speaker was sitting with her back to him, facing the fire. The second was across from her, her face illuminated. She looked about 40, with wrinkles too deep for her age and crooked teeth. She glared at the first speaker from over the fire. Both were armed. Derek tried to count the weapons, but could not tell which was Megan and which was Amy.
At most, there’s three guns, he thought. At least here. Who knows how many up there.
Derek retreated back into the woods until he felt covered enough to crouch behind a tree on his heels. His bare arms burned from the cold, but he didn’t notice.
Need to see how many there are.
Knife still in hand, Derek circled around the other side of the fire to a distance. He put his goggles back on and forged ahead. He could see a line of bodies not far from camp, standing guard. He could see the barrels of guns. If the women at the fire cried out, they would come running back in a hurry. Moving on, Derek counted fifteen or twenty more at the barricade. If he could distract the guards acting as a buffer, he might be able to overpower the three women and get Amy. He had to make the action at the barricade worse so they’d call reinforcements. Derek ran back the way he came, as quietly as possible, and back over the fence. He had no idea how much time had passed.
Band of Preppers: A Prepper Fiction Novel (Book 1) Page 10