After The Virus (Book 1): After The Virus

by Archer, Simon

  I had to admit. The kid was cute. She had wispy hair coming in that looked to be maybe a shade of strawberry blonde, and bright green eyes. Charlie, the fire station mutt, and Sasha, the little black welcome center dog, were absolutely fascinated by the infant and very concerned about me. Even Ghost and Pepper stayed close.

  By around 10-hundred hours, after Jackie had handled the chores and the livestock, I sighed and called her in.

  “Need anything, Henry?” she asked.

  “First,” I said. “I think Irene is wet. Second, I think we need to call our friends.”

  The young woman nodded and took the baby from me to check.

  “Hey,” she said. “You’re right. You must have an instinct for these things.”

  “Right,” I snorted.

  “What do you want me to tell them?” she asked as she headed for the spare bedroom.

  “Tell them what happened,” I said. “I don’t want this asshole to ambush them. Warn them that whoever he is knows his way around IEDs too.”

  “Right,” she called. “Give me a few minutes to straighten out Irene and put her to bed. Then I’ll drag the radio out.”

  “I was kind of thinking,” I rambled. “That we probably need to see if we can bring in some more cows, and maybe some pigs. Are pigs low-maintenance?”

  “Insomuch as you keep them in a pen and feed them,” she replied. “They go feral pretty quick if you let them into the wild, though, so we’ll want to be careful.”

  “Got it,” I said. “Have you got any more of the Percocet?”

  “I’ll bring it out.”

  A few minutes later, she brought me a couple of pills and a glass of water, then went into the porch to start the generator. The light next to the couch bloomed, and I had to squint for a moment. Was it really so dim in the house without the electrics? I really needed to get solar installed.

  God, but there was so much to do and so much pressure to get done right now. Jackie couldn’t help nearly as much as I needed her to since she needed to care for Irene. Well, I could do that, too, but my skills ran more handyman and less domestic. At least the child was cute and fairly quiet for being a month old at the most.

  I had dozed off when Jackie nudged me and knelt down on the floor by my legs. She had the radio.

  “Are you up to calling?” she asked. “I can do it, but I don’t know these people.”

  I nodded and took the unit. She’d already powered it up, and I checked the channel out of habit, then picked up the microphone, pressed the button, and said, “This is Homestead calling Atlanta CDC. Is anyone listening, over?”

  I waited a minute, then repeated the call. This went on a few more times until the speaker crackled to life. “Homestead, this is the Arizona Rattlesnake. I copy. None of the rest of these idiots knows how to operate a radio, over.”

  Jackie stifled a giggle. It was Bruce Gassler, the old survivalist. Of course, he’d be the one to answer.

  “Copy that, Arizona. Looks like we’ve got a bad egg out here and could use some help. I’m a bit busted up, plus the son of a bitch seems to have IED and military or paramilitary experience. Over.”

  “Well, damn, son,” Bruce said over the radio. “Might take me a few hours to organize a posse, but I’d be happy to help. Anything’s better than babysitting, over.”

  “I was babysitting a few minutes ago,” I said. “A real baby, too. Over.”

  “I remember you mentioning something about that,” Bruce said. “If you’re busted up, I’ll corral one of the doctors. Other than that, dealer’s choice? Over.”

  “Dealer’s choice sounds good, Arizona,” I replied. “No guarantee he stuck around after we butted heads, but I want to be sure. Over.”

  “We’ve got your directions, Homestead. Should see you by afternoon. Over.”

  “Copy that, Arizona. Homestead out.” I leaned my head back. The room was spinning, and I felt sick to my stomach.

  “Here,” Jackie said gently and took the radio from me. A few minutes later, she joined me on the couch. “Is there anything you need, love?”

  “Well,” I said slowly. “I’m not really hurting so much now, but I’m really sick to my stomach.”

  “My bad,” she sighed. “I should have fed you first.”

  “It’s okay,” I told her. “It’ll pass, then I can try to help you with stuff. We should get more animals.”

  “Well, the goats are multiplying,” she said with a smirk.

  “What?” I blinked. None of the goats should have been pregnant or even ready for breeding.

  “Goats are smart, but you know that,” she replied. “Seems like a few from somewhere nearby decided they were done with being cooped up and came to visit, then stayed for the food.”

  I laughed and winced as pain shot through my torso.

  “Don’t do that,” Jackie put a cool hand on my forehead.

  “I need to do something,” I told her. “I can’t really afford to stiffen up, and I really think this is just bruising and maybe some strains.”

  She caught my face in both hands and turned me gently to face her. “That might be true,” she said softly. “But I can’t afford to lose you, so I don’t want you to take any risks, or even do your usual overworking, until Estelle can have a look at you.”

  “I really am fine,” I protested, then sighed as Jackie held her ground. “But okay, dear.”

  “Good,” she told me, then looked up at a plaintive wailing from the other room. “Feeding time. Would you like to do the honors?”

  “You know what,” I replied. “Sure.”

  Within a few minutes, I held baby Irene in my lap, helping her suck away at a bottle of formula. Jackie took the opportunity to get started on other chores. At least I could be useful.

  Irene was a mostly quiet infant and looked up at me with wide, green eyes while I held her. The wisps of strawberry blonde hair that decorated an otherwise bald scalp stuck out from her little head in every direction. While I was feeding her, she grabbed one of my fingers in a surprisingly strong grip for something so small.

  Well, damn. I guessed I was smitten.

  Jackie moved fast. It wasn’t long before she came and got the baby from me, which was good, since the bottle was pretty much empty, and I was pushing the limits of my knowledge of infants. She took the baby and the bottle and separated them before plopping Irene on her shoulder to pat the kid’s back.

  Oh, right. Burping.

  I shifted on the couch a bit, and it wasn’t so bad with the drugs taking the edge off, but I still felt limited. Despite that, I figured I’d try to learn something about baby care while I was stuck here, so when Irene took the kid into the bedroom, I pushed myself up off the couch and followed.

  “Should you be doing this?” Jackie asked as I darkened the door of the room. She had done a number on the second guest room while I was gone. There was a nice crib, a little dresser, a portable bath, and a changing table. Right now, the burbling, contended infant was getting cleaned up and changed.

  “I figured I’d try to get a handle on-” I waved a hand at the whole scene. “That.”

  She laughed, then, and motioned me over, then carefully walked me through the basic steps.

  “All of this from babysitting?” I asked, once Irene was clean and changed and starting to doze off in her crib.

  “And helping out with baby cousins,” she replied. “I think mom wanted me to settle down and have kids after college, so she had a long-term plan to get me properly trained.”

  “It’s a useful skill,” I said. “I never had much to do with kids of any sort. No siblings, and just my Grandma here for family. If we had any cousins, they were kept pretty much under wraps.”

  “Still, you know a lot about farming and mechanical stuff, so maybe between the two of us, we’ll make a competent team.” Jackie smiled at me, her eyes bright. “Want to move out to the porch? It’s kind of a nice day.”

  “Sure,” I replied. My body wanted to move, but pain kind o
f limited my options. Still, I did get back up and get out to the wicker chair without too much difficulty. Jackie followed me after a few minutes with a couple of open beers. She handed me one and flopped into the rocking chair with the other.

  I wasn’t about to complain. One beer with the painkillers wouldn’t be a problem. I just couldn’t overindulge.

  Out in the yard, the dogs played, running around, chasing each other. It seemed to be some variant of either tag or kill the pup with the pinecone. I couldn’t be absolutely sure. The rules seemed to change depending on which dog took the lead.

  Goats watched from the pasture, lined up along the fence like people at a football game, while the horses frolicked in the background. The bull and the cows were all huddled together, somehow managing to look offended by all the racket. Only one pig was visible, a half-sized youngster that seemed to think he was a goat.

  “All the animals accounted for?” I asked.

  “They were at breakfast,” Jackie replied. “I’ve kept an eye out for any sign of the coy-wolf and his pack, but so far, nothing.”

  She reached over and took one of my hands, twisting to look at me as she took a drink of her beer. I smiled back, raised mine in a salute, and took a swig myself. Cool, bitter liquid ran down my throat like liquid happiness, and I let out a soft sigh of satisfaction.

  “That’s a nice bike, by the way,” Jackie said, tearing her gaze away from me and looking out at the Hellcat which sat near the steps up to the porch.

  “I know,” I said. “I should find a way to put it in a garage or a shed or something before the weather makes too much of a mess of it.”

  “We’ve got some tarps in the meantime,” she told me. “I can get one out and cover it for you.”

  “I’d really appreciate that,” I said and smiled warmly. “You do realize that as much as I like all the attention and help and stuff, that you don’t have to try to please me all the time.”

  Jackie blushed a little and shrugged.

  “Maybe I like it,” she murmured.

  “That’s one thing.” I took another swig of my beer. “But if you ever decide you don’t, I won’t get mad.” Really, I did love the little things Jackie did, but she seemed to have this subservient streak mixed in with the willful mischievousness that I’d come to adore. Sometimes it felt a little weird to me to take advantage of it.

  “Henry,” she began. “Love, I don’t mind at all. I enjoy doing it because seeing you happy makes me happy. It’s not like I’m abandoning my will or something.” Jackie made a sour face. “Just please stop questioning me about this stuff. Let me be what I want to be, and if part of that means attending to you, just enjoy it.”

  “I’ll try,” I said, then stretched and groaned as about half of my joints decided to pop loudly.

  Jackie winced and studied me with concern on her face.

  “I’m really not sold on this ‘okay’ diagnosis,” she told me with a straight face. “I think I want a second opinion.”

  “You’ll get it soon enough,” I said. “I’ll wager Bruce and whoever he drags along will be here a little after noon, barring incident.” Even if there was an incident, I’d lay my money on the old survivalist and whoever came with him. Still, I wanted to get back out there, recover my tools from the corpse of my Dodge, and then hunt that bastard down.

  Normally, I was a live-and-let-live kind of guy, but he’d tried to kill me unprovoked, and I couldn’t let that stand. I spared a look over at Jackie. She leaned back in the rocker, her feet on the porch rail, and drank her beer. I stretched out a bit and nursed mine. My imagination worked overtime, playing through scenario after scenario where I hunted down and killed that asshole.

  Maybe he’d left the area, but somehow, I suspected not. He didn’t seem like the type to flee without having the last word, so to speak. We’d have our reckoning, I just knew it.

  32

  I was right about the CDC group’s arrival time. Not too long after noon, the distinctive rumbling growl of Bruce’s deuce-and-a-half caused ears to perk all throughout the canine community of our little farm. The big truck slowed and eased into the turn, then rumbled down to a stop in front of the house, surrounded by madly barking dogs.

  “I’m on it,” Jackie said, bouncing to her feet. She walked down and whistled loudly. Immediately the dogs stopped and backed off, all but Suzy. The pack leader planted herself between the vehicle and the house and waited, alert and on guard.

  Angela disembarked first, wearing her full guard kit, right down to body armor and helmet. She waved to me and then turned her attention to Jackie. The two women exchanged meaningful looks while Bruce clambered out of the cab, followed by Estelle.

  Something passed between the two closer women, and they moved close and began whispering while the survivalist and the doctor marched over to me.

  “Hurry it up, Powers,” Bruce called over his shoulder. “We can make introductions later.”

  “Yes, sir,” she replied, and that gave me a raised eyebrow. Just a couple of days ago, Angie had barely been willing to give the old man the time of day.

  Both Estelle and Bruce wore body armor and riot helmets, which also got a curious look from me.

  “I wasn’t about to risk anyone getting hurt,” Bruce said as the doctor knelt down and began an abrupt examination of me where I sat in the wicker chair. “Not since there had already been an attempt on your life.”

  “Thank you,” I told him.

  “Be still,” Estelle ordered me as I started to get up.

  I froze.

  “Keep your eyes open,” she continued, pulling out a small penlight. I did just that, and she watched what happened when she shone the light in my eyes. A quick nod later, Estelle told me, “follow the light with just your eyes.”

  Once again, I followed instructions and was rewarded by a grumbling mutter.

  “Okay, Henry,” Estelle said as she rose to her feet. “Let’s get you inside. Do you need any help or anything?”

  “No, I can still walk,” I replied, shaking my head.

  “Good for you, son,” Bruce interjected. “Get your ass in there and do what the doctor says. I’m going to collect the other ladies and do a perimeter sweep. There’s a chance this bogey is closer than you think, or further away. It always pays to be prepared, though.”

  I nodded and got slowly to my feet. My head spun, and I just plain hurt all over. Noting my hesitation, Estelle gently took me by the elbow and led me into the house and the bedroom that Jackie and I shared.

  The doctor had brought an EMT bag, and she set it down heavily next to the bed while I got myself situated.

  “Since I don’t have an x-ray, I’m going to start with basic vitals and manual checks,” Estelle said, all business.

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said by way of acknowledgment. “Mostly I just hurt.”

  “Anywhere specific?”

  “Right along where my seatbelt caught me, and my face,” I replied, firmly convinced that she’d know if I lied. “I can walk, but not much is easy, since my whole torso hurts, and my joints feel like I hyper-extended them.”

  She nodded, got out a stethoscope, listened to my heart and my breathing, then checked my pulse before pulling out a manual blood pressure cuff. After that test, she wrote something in a little notebook and stuck a thermometer under my tongue.

  “I suspect you have a mild concussion,” the doctor told me. “I want to do some palpitations to see if there are any noticeable dislocations or breaks. No lie, it’s going to hurt.”

  “I figured,” I said.

  “You look like a raccoon,” she observed as she tucked some of her stuff back in the bag. “A cute raccoon, but still…”

  I sighed and rolled my eyes. So the doc did have a sense of humor.

  “Lie back and try to relax,” Estelle said. “I’m going to start on your arms and legs, then your ribs.”

  “Yes, ma’am,” I said.

  “I’m not that old,” she grumbled.

 
; In the other room, baby Irene started to fuss.

  “Of course,” she muttered. “I’ll be right back.” With that, she patted my hand gently and headed out. I just closed my eyes and wondered if I could nap through the procedure. Probably not, if it was going to hurt.

  Estelle stirred around in the guest room, or maybe it was the baby’s room now. I couldn’t make out what she said, but from her tone, she was comforting the little one.

  Our little family really did need a couple more people. It had grown a lot faster than either Jackie or I expected, with the baby, and maybe even Tommy when he was well. There were, quite simply, too many tasks, what with children, and animals, and all the other work that needed to be done. She and I could manage everything, but we wouldn’t be able to travel much at all unless we could get someone to watch the homestead.

  Maybe some of the CDC folks would be interested in the rural life, but I had my doubts. With five years of power and all their technology, they could be quite a resource for the area and any other survivors.

  While the animals would be problematic, I wanted to give serious thought to relocating to Atlanta with Jacky and Irene.

  “Still awake?” Estelle asked.

  “Mostly,” I replied, cracking my eyes open a bit. She stood in the doorway, looking completely out of place in the camouflage and her lab coat.

  “Did Bruce make you wear that?” I asked.

  “Yes,” she grumbled. “Dress appropriately, young lady, or stay behind and I’ll take a doctor who’ll follow orders.”

  I chuckled, then winced. “Ow.”

  “Okay, there is definitely something going on with your ribs,” she observed. “I’m expecting bruising, but there might be more.”

  “I’m all yours, doctor,” I said, closing my eyes.

  “Jackie won’t object?” she asked, dragging a chair over and sitting down to start checking my legs. Her touch was warm and firm as she went from ankle to hip, pressing as deeply as she could, and felt along the long bones.