by Amy Cook
“Alright, honey. Hard part’s over, we’re in the city. But until that dandelion gunk on your head goes away, we gotta head for quarantine.” Amiel suddenly became aware of the people warily walking by them, their stares fixed to her forehead. Her eyes widened.
“Why are there so many people on the streets? It’s after dark.”
“Ain’t no curfew here,” Tandy stated gruffly. Amiel’s eyes shifted back to the Dallas citizens in wonder. Nearly all of them wore plastic looking suits and gloves, some even wore face coverings.
“What are they wearing?” Amiel whispered to Tandy.
“Protection suits, or at least that’s what they call ‘em. Don’t do much good under a Rabid attack I’d warrant. Plastic’s too thin to stop them sharp nails and teeth. But it keeps any blood or spit splatterins off ya from a distance I suppose.”
Amiel blinked, surprised, though she knew she shouldn’t be. Back home, everyone had walked around in regular clothing, not concerned about the infection entering their haven, though they had had a curfew to ensure safety. Apparently different cities held different methods of safety precaution. She had a feeling she’d be finding many more differences between the cities in her stay in Dallas. She noticed people walking the streets had their eyes always shifting one way or another, as though constantly on guard. And those that passed by never failed to look at her forehead, their gazes turning murderous. Amiel pulled her bike forward, following Tandy’s lead.
“There’s really no curfew?”
“Nope,” Tandy replied stiffly.
“I’ve never seen so many people out at night.” She shivered under a particularly baleful glare directed to her forehead. “They seem pretty angry about this yellow stuff on my head. Half of them look ready to shoot me.”
“More than half of ‘em would, if given the chance, honey. This ain’t y’all’s sweet home town where law and civility are still mostly encouraged. Stick close.” She didn’t need further encouragement. Traveling close together, they set out to find the quarantine, the guard at their heels until they were safely locked within the quarantine gates.
Chapter 11
Tandy
Quarantine was a group of seedy old hotels with broken or no furniture at all in the rooms. Tandy was on his guard the entire time, wary with the knowledge that any of the people around them could be infected, moments away from awakening and rampaging. One of them possibly his young companion. The soldier girl had screened Amiel back at the rest stop, but Tandy knew all too well how easy it was for one to become infected. All it took was one tiny splattering of blood or saliva getting into a cut, your eyes, or mouth, and them readers were hardly accurate. He prayed she was safe from the infection, that the gate monitor had simply misread her DNA. In the short time he’d come to know the girl, he’d grown to love her. If he had a daughter, he would be proud to have one like Amiel. The idea of having to see her become a Rabid…to have to kill her himself…it would rip him up inside more than he cared to admit.
Amiel obviously sensed the trepidation in the air, too. She stayed in the closet of their dingy, one bedroom. She left her gun and knife sitting on the broken coffee table, far from her reach. He tried to coax her out several times, but she wouldn’t budge unless it was to use the bathroom. Her reply always came in the form of a wan smile, fear shining in her eyes but a stubborn set to her jaw. Tandy knew she stayed there in an effort to keep him safe from her. He let her be, sliding protein bars and water pouches under the door now and then, hoping he was doing the right thing. He was never much good with women. The only one that had given him the time of day was his eccentric and charismatic Alana. Of course, half of their marriage Alana had been living who knows where. Tandy glanced toward the closet door, hoping the girl’s future was brighter than his wife’s had been.
When the 24 hour mark had passed, Tandy slowly approached the closet door. He hadn’t heard a sound from the girl all day, and the latest food and water pouch still sat half way under the door, untouched. The hairs on his neck rose as he stared down at them, hand gripping the knob painfully tight. With a shaky sigh, his free hand reached for the holstered gun at his hip. The trusty revolver was always cocked, ready for action. He prayed this was not one of the times he would need to rely on the speed and reliability of it. The knob squeaked slightly as he turned it, the light from the flickering lamps illuminating the closet inch by inch as the door swung open. His heart seemed to stop as the light fell across the small huddled form in the corner, knees pulled to her chin, head bowed to rest atop them. She appeared asleep, but he had been around enough Rabids to know you never let your guard down. Tandy frowned as he took stock of the closet. All of the food and water packets he’d slipped under the door lay unused at her feet.
“Amiel.” She made no reply to his quietly spoken word. He tried again, louder this time, finger poised over the trigger. “Honey, wake up.” She startled slightly, raising a groggy head til her eyes met his own. He stared hard but couldn’t see through the mess of hair in her face to see if the mark was still there.
“Tandy?” Her voice was rough with sleep, but her sleep clouded eyes sharpened in the dim lighting as they fell on the gun pointed toward her. “Is it true?” she asked, her tone completely devoid of any emotion. He shook his head slightly, voice low and cautious.
“Can’t see through the birds nest on your head, honey.” She straightened, slowly lifting a hand to her forehead and pushing the hair to the side. The gun in Tandy’s hand suddenly felt lighter as he holstered it with a relieved, albeit shaky, laugh.
“No more dandelion gunk.” A brilliant smile burst across her face and she flung herself into his arms.
“That’s good, because yellow was definitely not good for my completion,” she joked, pulling away with tears glistening in her eyes. Tandy scooped up a packet of water and food, handing them to her with a stern expression. Grinning, Amiel eagerly moved to grab the packets when her gaze suddenly went blank, pupils dilating, skin turning pallid.
“Oh no…Tandy…I think I feel the blackout coming,” she gasped. Dread settled in Tandy’s gut. Truth be told, he was shocked they hadn’t had to deal with something like this earlier, considering they were in a hotel packed with the potentially infected. He grasped her tightly to his side with one arm, giving her a rough shake.
“Not now. Fight it! Don’t know how many of ‘em are comin’. If we gotta run, I want ya with me, not goin’ exorcist on the entire hotel.” She gasped, blinking blearily, she shook her head.
“Can’t…stop…” The plaster wall at the back of the closet exploded, and Amiel let out that familiar pained scream. Ears ringing, Tandy yanked the gun from his holster, landing several well placed bullets in the Rabid’s head as it tried to crawl through. It lay sprawled half way through the wall, seeping carnage all over the floor. Tandy looked to Amiel only to find she’d gone limp in his arms. Tossing the unconscious girl over his shoulder, he moved quickly around the room gathering their materials. Shoving their bags out onto the fire escape, he gently added her to the pile before going back to grab her weapons off the coffee table. The old metal groaned beneath their combined weight, and he grabbed hold of the railing with a curse. Tandy hated heights with a passion. Reaching down he gave Amiel a shake, rougher than he probably should have, but he was desperate to get off this death trap and he couldn’t carry their stuff and her down at once. He couldn’t leave her alone because Rabids seemed to come outta the wood work around her. He sighed as a pair of very normal looking eyes finally blinked up at him. No exorcist lady, good news.
“Time to leave, honey. If there’s more of ‘em in there, the commotion’ll have ‘em runnin’ straight for us.” She nodded, shakily buckling her weapons into their rightful places on her body. Grabbing her duffel, she glanced back into the room. Her eyes grew stormy at the sight of the dead Rabid on the floor, but thankfully nothing else happened. Maybe her particular brand of crazy only extended to live Rabids. Silently, they climbed down the fire esca
pe. Neither of them wanted to voice the fact that had Amiel not left the closet when she had, she would have been trapped in that tiny closet with a Rabid. After checking through the quarantine gates with a one beep blood screening, they were given a pair of plastic suits and the guards strongly suggested wearing them. Tandy was not happy about wearing the crappy things, but rather than wasting time arguing with the uptight guards, he put it on and urged Amiel to do the same. In no time he and the girl were out of sight of the Yellow Hotel, neither of them eager to ever see it again.
With the afternoon sun all but faded, the first thing they did was seek out a real hotel. When they had two adjoined rooms secured, and their bikes safely stowed in the compound behind it, Tandy tossed the plastic suit in the trash and grabbed the hotel phone. He smiled as he saw Amiel through the open connecting doorway collapse on her bed with a happy groan. Quietly as possible Tandy trailed the long cord of the phone into the bathroom, intent on keeping this conversation from Amiel’s knowledge. A deep voice on the other end of the line answered just as the lock on the door snicked into place.
“Harley.” Tandy smirked at the gruff answering technique preferred by his second son. While gruff, his tone was quiet, which likely meant he was currently on the hunt.
“Harley, how are ya boy?”
“Pops?” The surprise in his son’s voice momentarily eclipsed Tandy’s smile with guilt. It had been far too long since he’d last called.
“Ya, it’s me. Still kickin.” Harley laughed quietly on the other line.
“As if there could ever be any doubt of that. Y’all are tougher than that jerky you make, Pops.” Tandy smiled fondly at the teasing barb. It never failed to surprise Tandy that the years spent in the upper states with Cajun, had softened Harley’s Texan drawl. It used to be worse than Tandy’s. But it was still there, and that was enough for Tandy.
“Y’all oughta know, since ya got the same genes as me, boy.” Harley gave a noncommittal grunt. “How’s your brother?”
“He’s a love sick fool, as usual.”
“Well, good. It’s about time he settled down.”
“Of course. I forgot I was talkin’ to the King of love sick fools,” Harley replied dryly, which only made Tandy smile larger. He’d missed his son’s sarcastic humor.
“Listen, Harley, I’m in town right now. But only for another day. Y’all got a minute for your ol’ Pops? ”
“Always.” He paused. “Sun’s almost down,” he reminded Tandy subtly.
“We’re safe, don’t worry. Hotel Aspus.” After a moment of silence, his son finally replied.
“We? Still got a customer with ya?”
“Yep.” He wasn’t about to give any further explanation, or he’d send Harley runnin’ the other direction. Harley and girls didn’t mix well.
“Alright then. We’ve got some new recruits that need broke in. I’ll chump one of ‘em into takin’ the last few hours of my shift. I’m just a few blocks away, be over in a few.”
“Nah, not tonight.” Tandy tried to sound nonchalant, but Harley coming over right now didn’t exactly fit into his plans. “Dog tired from the trip. Had some rough patches ‘long the way.”
“What kinda rough patches, Pop?”
“I’ll tell ya ‘bout it tomorrow, round four o’clock. Let’s meet at that outdoor bar, the Runt Horse. Yeah?”
“Sure thing, Pop. Want me to call Cajun up, too?”
“I’ll visit him and his girl after our chat’s over. Somethin’ personal I wanna talk to ya ‘bout first.”
“Everythin’ alright?” Harley probed, a hint of worry in his tone.
“Course!” The phone was silent for a long moment before Harley’s trademark grunt came from the other end of the line.
“Right. Tomorrow then.” The phone call ended just as abruptly as it had begun and Tandy shook his head with a laugh. Amiel was gonna have herself a knight with rough edges, but he’d do well enough. Walking over to her room, he knocked on the open door. With a groan she pulled herself into a sitting position.
“Hey, what’s the plan?” she asked, tiredly climbing off the bed
“I know ya’ll are tired, honey. How ‘bout we get some grub, then head off to bed. Tomorrow we can hunt ya down a place to stay for keeps before I head out.” Her face paled slightly at the mention of his leaving, though a steady smile was quickly forced into place. It was clear that despite her excitement to be free, the idea of doing it alone terrified her. To be honest, he felt uncomfortable with the idea of leaving her alone here, too. She was too green in the horn for something on so grand a scale, and definitely too green for Dallas. Good thing he was setting into motion a plan that would mean she wouldn’t truly be alone.
“That sounds wonderful, thank you,” she replied sweetly.
“I’ll order some food while y’all get cleaned up. I’m starved, could practically eat a buffalo.” With a girlish giggle Amiel hurried off to the shower, eager to be clean the way girls always are. Tandy took a quick scrubbing and five minutes later was done. The food arrived soon after that, a mouth watering tantalizing scent in its wake. Tandy stared longingly at the food and hoped the girl hurried up. His manners dictated he waited for her, but he remembered just how long his wife had always taken in the shower and he’d been looking forward to a hot meal tonight. To his surprise, Amiel joined him just as that thought crossed his mind, and not a moment too soon for his growling stomach. They chowed down, and he watched in silent humor as she dug into the food with as much greed as he did, damn near clearing every speck of food from the table. He sent her off to her room with a secret grin, eager to get his plan underway the next day. He’d never tried his hand at matchmaking, but he’d always had a secret soft spot for it. How hard could it be anyways?
Chapter 12
Amiel
After six hours of sleep, Tandy and Amiel roused for a late breakfast, and then set out to find her an apartment. She wanted to find the cheapest one available in order to stretch out her funds, but Tandy insisted on the more upscale apartments. ‘Upscale’ here did not mean the same thing it would have meant to Malinda Hilden. Upscale to Malinda was sparkling clean, fabulously furnished expansive floor plans. Upscale in Dallas meant a large complex, safely gated with extensive security fences, and armed guards to keep the peace. The rooms were not too clean, or furnished, but it was safe and that was what mattered most these days. Size wise they ranged from studios, to three bedrooms. Amiel chose the least expensive, a studio sized apartment. She didn’t need anything more than that anyways.
Pleased enough with her choice, Tandy took her out to eat. It was around four, so it wasn’t quite dinner or a late lunch. The time had flown by with all of the arrangements, leaving Amiel in a dizzying state of disarray. She hadn’t even noticed just how starved she was. Tandy insisted they go to a quaint out-door café, which sat across the street from an odd little bar named the Runt Horse. Yet for some reason Tandy kept fidgeting in his seat, glancing furtively at the Runt Horse, leaving Amiel to wonder if he had preferred to eat there instead.
“Do you want to eat over there? I don’t mind eating in a bar,” she offered, pushing her chair back. Tandy jumped, banging his knee on the table, startling Amiel and the other nearby patrons.
“Ow, confound it all!” he growled, rubbing his knee with one hand, motioning her to sit with the other. “Sit yourself down, honey. This place had a real nice menu last time I came through, been lookin’ forward to it all week, really. My gaze just gets to wonderin’ when I’m thinkin’, is all.” Her brow rose at his off toned reassurance, but she sat down nonetheless. She’d done plenty of weird things on the way to Dallas so Tandy was entitled to a few weird moments himself, wasn’t he? They ordered some food off the menu, and sat drinking tea while they waited for the food to arrive. The tiny tea cup looked almost comical held in the giant paws of Biker Man.
The loud roar of a motorcycle saved her from a giggle at Tandy’s expense, drawing her attention to the street as the rider p
ulled up to the bar across the street. The rider wore no helmet, and large aviator glasses covered half of his features. Something about him seemed odd, until she realized he wasn’t wearing the typical plastic protection suits. She’d seen only a few people walking the streets without the suits, Amiel and Tandy among them. Tandy had made it clear that he held no love for the suits, stating they would do little good for protection, and only hamper their ability to reach their lifesaving weapons in a dangerous situation. As such it wasn’t entirely surprising that a fellow biker would also choose to steer clear of the suits. Besides, while Amiel knew nothing about this man, seeing him waltzing around in a plastic suit would have been rather comical.
She couldn’t help but admire the leather jacket that stretched across his broad back as he moved, his faded ripped jeans adding a whole ‘bad boy’ appeal to his appearance. She couldn’t tell from this distance, but she thought he was sporting a tattoo on the side of his neck, which only further shouted ‘bad boy’. He suddenly froze, head turning toward them, and Amiel gasped. She couldn’t see his eyes behind those glasses, but she could certainly feel them. The wind whipped his shaggy blond hair around the edges of his stern, stubbled jaw. His brows drew down in confusion and he took a step toward them, sending Amiel into a panic. She quickly turned her head back to Tandy, nervous that her unabashed staring had angered the biker and he was headed over to cause trouble. She turned to find Tandy’s head shaking in a subtle but obvious way, giving the biker a straight forward warning not to join them. She swallowed hard, holding the tea cup to her mouth.