Marilyn took Honey and Cherokee went to round up the other horses. Chase and Sonya went through what they had in the Hummer and the trailer to determine what would be best to take. As they sorted through the gear, Sonya talked about her father.
“He was sort of an orphan. It made him tough, you know? His mom was pregnant at sixteen. She never told anyone who the dad was, at least not that he knew. She wanted to put him up for adoption, but his grandmother said no and took him in. His mom ran off then, and he only saw her once in a while. When she did come over, she ignored him like he wasn’t even there. He said his grandparents loved him a lot, but he was a high energy boy and they were pretty old. He ran a little wild. They shipped him off to live with an uncle for a while. That’s where he learned woodworking. Then he came back to his grandparents.” Chase listened to Sonya talk. She was working quickly, and he was working as well, but he knew time was very limited. He kept one ear cocked for the sound of approaching motors.
“When he graduated, he joined the army. He was infantry. He was only in three years and then got out. He was in Desert Storm, but he never talked about it. I think he saw some messed up stuff. When he got out he went to work in a cabinetry shop for a guy for almost minimum wage. He said he ended up being better than the guy he worked for, but was still getting minimum wage. The guy pretty much had Dad doing all the work. Dad didn’t really mind. He said he didn’t need much. Then he met Mom. They fell in love. She worked at the library part-time. She loved to read. Dad did too. That’s how they met. They got married.”
Chase wished Marilyn would hurry. They were almost done packing gear. It was mostly packed in duffle bags. They weren’t taking much. Bare essentials. All the dry food they could take, not much canned. No water. There was the pump at the old farmhouse and that would have to do.
“They lived pretty poor for a while. Dad started pushing for a raise. He threatened to quit, and the guy he was working for took him up on it. Dad had a few tools and he did some handyman work around town to keep them fed. Then my grandma and my grandpa died in a car wreck. Other driver’s fault. Dad got some settlement insurance money and their house and what little money they had. He built a woodshop and went into business. He did pretty good. I was born in there somewhere. We had a happy little perfect family, I think. Dad said it wasn’t perfect, but it was close enough for him. Better than he expected for himself. Then Mom got cancer.”
Chase piled up what he hoped they would be able to take outside of the shed where he’d parked the trailer. The Humvee still sat in the open. He had something of a plan for it, something that might buy them time. Where was Marilyn? He was scanning the pastures he could see, looking for her, when he felt a touch on his arm. Sonya was looking up at him.
“I know you were only half listening,” she said. “That’s okay. It made it easier to talk.”
She finally had his full attention. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I was listening. Your dad sounds like a pretty interesting guy.”
“He is. To me, anyway. If there’s any way possible, he’s still alive. I know he is. He’s tough, and with all he’s been up against in his life, he never quit. Thank you, Chase. For listening, and for helping. You never had to, and you’re always here.” She hugged him around the waist and he wrapped her in his arms, crossing them over her back. She felt so small, but he knew she was her father’s daughter. She was tough, too.
They stood like that until Marilyn rode up, three horses following her and Honey behind them.
“There’s one missing.” She climbed down from Cherokee and stood with one hand on the horse’s neck. “I want to get some grain in them before we go. They’re still kind of thin. We can’t push them too hard,” Marilyn said. “Where’s the stuff we’re taking?”
“Right here,” Chase said, indicating the pile. “Bare minimum. I don’t think we’ll need it very long.”
Marilyn looked at the pile. “Good enough. We can each carry a little something with us, and we can use one of them as a pack horse. I’ve been riding bareback, but we’re going to need saddles. Especially you guys. We’re lucky it’s not too far.”
“I think it will be even shorter if we stay off the roads. I looked at the map. We go across country, it shouldn’t be more than ten, fifteen miles. And we’re in no hurry once we get a little distance from here.” Chase eyed the horses doubtfully. “I haven’t really ever ridden a horse. Mules at the Grand Canyon once. Ponies when I was little. How are these guys?”
Marilyn smiled. “Good news is none of them are guys. Counting Cherokee, three mares and one gelding. And these are workhorses. When they know what they’re supposed to do, they do it. But you’ll have to be pretty clear on what you want them to do. I’ll talk you through it.”
“Okay,” Chase said. “Let’s saddle up. Before we leave, though, I want to do something that I hope will throw off the collectors for a little bit.”
Chapter 17 – Marilyn
The saddles were in the stable in a tack room bigger than some barns Marilyn had been in. Most of them were racing saddles, but there seemed to be a little of everything. Marilyn thought there had to be at least $25,000 worth in the room, but probably even more if the saddles were worth what she thought they were. She wanted lighter gear. There were some western saddles, probably belonged to the ranch hands, but there were some English saddles, too. Lighter. They wouldn’t be riding that long, so she thought they would do just fine. She rounded up blankets and halters and everything she needed. The horses were good solid horses. They didn’t give her any problems. Sonya tried to help, but she was too skittish and the horses felt it. They shied when she approached them with any kind of gear, and when they shied she flinched, and that made them more nervous. Marilyn ended up saddling them all. Chase had taken the Humvee and left, saying he would be back shortly.
“Sonya, you have to be confident with horses,” Marilyn told her. “If they think you don’t know what you’re doing, it makes them nervous.”
“But I don’t know what I’m doing,” Sonya said.
“They don’t have to know that. There’s always a break-in period between a horse and a new rider. You have to get used to each other,” Marilyn said, tightening the girth on the gelding. “But you have to be consistent. These horses are probably pretty smart. Once they figure out what you want, they’ll do it. We’re just going to be walking most of the way, so we won’t need anything fancy.” Marilyn demonstrated how to use the reins and all the other commands the horses might be expecting. Sonya nodded the whole time, looking nervous.
“Which one, uh, well, which one is nicest, do you think?” Sonya asked.
“My uncle swore up and down that geldings were best,” Marilyn said. “He said mares can have too much personality. Ready?”
“Sure,” Sonya replied, looking anything but ready.
The gelding stood rock steady as Sonya awkwardly climbed on. Marilyn showed her how to mount. Marilyn had Sonya just sit while she saddled Cherokee and the other mares. She selected the larger and older looking of the two remaining horses for Chase. As she finished up with the last mare (she used a western saddle, thinking the saddle horn would be good to tie the gear on) she watched Sonya and General (her name for the gelding). What she had hoped for was Sonya would grow more relaxed, more comfortable, and it worked. As she finished, she heard the Hummer return. Marilyn mounted Cherokee and led Chase’s mare and the horse they were going to use to haul gear out into the area in front of the main stables. Sonya and General followed along, Honey sticking close by.
“Yipee-ki-yi-yay,” Chase called as they approached. “Let’s load up, and while we do that, I’ll tell you my plan.” They loaded the gear on the horses, and Chase explained. “We need the Collectors pointed in the opposite direction. I’m going to take the Hummer and hide it in plain sight. You guys cut across the fields and meet me. By road, it’s about two miles to that housing area behind us. And there are a lot of houses there. I take the Hummer and park it over there. They’ll hav
e to go house to house to make sure we’re not there. I’ll go through some of the houses and make it look like we’ve stayed there. Then we head across country to the old farm.”
“Then what?” Sonya asked. Marilyn looked at her, thinking that she was asking too much too soon. Chase confirmed this by looking annoyed.
“Then I think about it,” he said shortly. “One thing at a time, okay?”
“Then we think about it,” Marilyn said. “Come on, Sonya. Chase, we’ll meet you over there.”
Chase climbed in the Hummer, backed up to the building with the trailer, and hooked onto it as they watched. When he took off, he drove quickly, recklessly. Marilyn hoped he was just trying to create more dramatic tire marks for the Collectors to follow, but she was afraid he was really venting his anger. She and Sonya rode for a bit, Marilyn watching Sonya. She was slumped in the saddle, and while Marilyn wished she was happier, the distraction Sonya seemed to be feeling actually made her a more relaxed rider. Her body was naturally balancing, keeping her in place without overreacting to the shifts of the gelding’s gait.
“He’s feeling a lot of pressure, you know,” Marilyn said.
Sonya nodded. “I know. I don’t mean to put pressure on him, but I can’t seem to help it. One minute it seems like everything is going good, and then next I say something and he’s off like a rocket.”
“I think we’ve probably got a day or two at most before they find us,” Marilyn said. “Maybe more. He’s going to do his best. We’ve got to support him. We don’t have to ask him, but we can suggest stuff. Wait for him to come to us, though. He’s not the same Chase he was before. I think he can be eventually, but he’s going to have to work through it, and we don’t have time now. We have to take him how we can get him.”
Sonya sighed. “You’re right.”
Marilyn smiled at her. “You want some good news? I think you’re a natural rider. We’re almost there, and you haven’t fallen off once.”
Sonya smiled back at her, but the sadness didn’t really leave her eyes.
They reached the fence dividing the ranch from the housing area. A gate with a lock on a small access road separated the two, but Marilyn was prepared. She had brought bolt cutters and cut the chain. After leading the horses through, she tried to arrange the chain so that it still looked locked while Sonya kept watch for creepers. None approached them. The humidity was still high and the sun was still hot, but once they entered the scrub-brush lined trail between the two, a few trees had grown tall enough to provide a little shade. Honey flopped down on the packed dirt of the access road, and Marilyn and Sonya stopped in the shade, dismounted, and waited for Chase, idly slapping at mosquitos. The horses grouped together and waited patiently with them. When Chase pulled into sight, they remounted.
Chase drove slowly through the subdivision, and they followed him. After taking a few turns and diving deeper into the maze of streets with nearly identical houses, he stopped when a lone creeper staggered from between two houses and approached the vehicle. He opened the door, stepped out, reached back in and pulled out his staff. He quickly dispatched the creeper.
“Will the horses stay?” he asked as Marilyn and Sonya approached.
“I can tie them off to the Hummer, but I don’t think they’d go anywhere anyway. They seem to be following Cherokee, and she’s with me,” Marilyn answered.
“Okay, do that and let’s get to work. Open the doors to the houses, as many of them as you can,” he explained. “If there’s a creeper inside, lure it out into the yard and put it down. We want to leave evidence that we were here, might still be here. If you’re not ready to do that, just skip the house.” He looked pointedly at Sonya. She lifted her chin defiantly.
“Sonya and I will work as a team. Honey will help,” Marilyn said. She had picked up a fireplace poker from the main house. Heavy, but not too heavy, and the point was surprisingly sharp. Sonya patted her pistol. Marilyn nodded. “Just if I get in trouble,” she said.
Chase took one side of the street and they took the other. Many of the doors were locked, but a surprising number weren’t. Marilyn remembered what had happened at her house. The sickness had caused people to want to congregate together. They had probably left their houses to go where they felt safe, churches and schools and shopping centers, not thinking about coming back. Maybe not thinking at all. Once the sickness took hold, normal thoughts seemed to stop. The fungus was in control.
From across the street came the sound of breaking glass. Chase had found one that was locked. Moments later, he was backing up into the yard, staff at the ready. Marilyn watched as Chase dispatched another creeper with confident efficiency. They had all come a long way from running in fear each and every time they saw a creeper. She had her opportunity two more houses down. She knew a creeper was inside when Honey had ducked her head and tucked her tail as they approached the door. Marilyn swung the poker like a club, shattering the creeper’s skull, instantly dropping the creature. Sonya stood by with drawn pistol.
At the end of the block, Chase called, “That’s enough. We need to get going.” They walked back up the middle of the street together. Marilyn noticed that Chase was walking close to Sonya. Say you’re sorry, she thought to him. Don’t try to show it. Say it. But he didn’t. When they came to a white house on Chase’s side where he had broken a window, he stopped. “Come here. I want to show you this.”
Inside, there was a fine layer of dust over everything. In the entry, the mummified remains of a creeper leaned against one wall of the entryway. The skin was torn where the door had struck it. It appeared to have been an older woman, still wearing a fuzzy pink bathrobe and one slipper, although the robe was stained with black spots showing how she had rotted before drying up.
“She was trapped. Remember the ones at the church at the wall? They did the same thing. And the dust turned the reverend,” Chase said.
“So we shouldn’t even be breathing in here,” Sonya said.
“I gave it time to settle, I think. But this stuff is what infects people that aren’t immune and makes them sick, kills them, and turns them into creepers. And it can get to us, too, even if it doesn’t kill us.” Chase said. “I think I’m starting to get an idea.” He stepped into the house and through the living room. They watched him from the doorway. He returned from the kitchen with a small plastic container and lid.
“You’re going to touch that stuff?” Marilyn asked.
“I’ll be careful,” he said. He pulled his t-shirt up over his nose and squatted by the creeper’s body. With a magazine he had picked up in the living room he pushed the dust around, creating a small pile. The dust rose up around him a little. Sonya and Marilyn backed away, out onto the porch. Scooping with the container and pushing with the magazine, Chase partially filled the container.
“What are you going to do with that?” Sonya asked.
“I’m not completely sure,” Chase said. “But this stuff will scare the Collectors more than three kids with guns.”
“Double seal that stuff. Find a plastic bag or something,” Sonya said. Her voice was shaky, and Marilyn realized Sonya had been the one most affected by the reverend after he was changed by the dust. She remembered the moment in the church when the reverend, whitened eyes gleaming in the darkness before the storm, had called on Sonya and Sonya had almost gone to him. When Chase finally came outside, Sonya insisted on him rinsing his hands.
“That may be going a little overboard,” Chase said. “I was up on the wall with the reverend. We’ve all been exposed to this stuff every day. It’s part of the atmosphere now. Think about all the creepers who have gone duster. Think about how many will be going duster. I think they do it when they can’t sense any possible other forms to infect, or when the fungus has completely used up the body it’s in. I think, from what the Chief said, that they do it when there’s a lot of other forms to infect, too.”
“I don’t care about any of that,” Sonya said. “I just know that the reverend changed, and
I know I don’t want to take any chances. So even if I’m being too careful, so what? I’m too careful. Sue me.”
“It’s probably not a bad idea,” Marilyn said. She wanted them to get along for the next day or so. She had a feeling that things were about to get very bad, and they needed to make the next few days as good as possible. She was relieved when Chase smiled.
“Works for me, too,” Chase said. “One of my worst nightmares is to have my body taken over, or lose control. Like possession, or drugs, or insanity, you know? So go ahead. Be too careful. I’m not sure anyone can be too careful anymore.”
Chapter 18 – Sonya
Chase impressed Sonya. When they mounted the horses, he walked up to the big mare Marilyn had picked out for him to ride and climbed on without hesitation. The mare sidestepped a little when he got on, but his reflexes and athletic ability compensated and he was quickly in the saddle. Once he was firmly seated and had the reins, she settled down.
“You sure you haven’t ridden before?” Marilyn asked.
“I told you. Ponies at birthday parties when I was little and mules at the Grand Canyon. That’s it,” Chase answered. “You’re the leader, Marilyn. Best I can tell, the old farmhouse is almost due east of here, maybe a little north. We want to stay off the roads. That should keep us away from creepers and Collectors. Tree cover is a good thing, or we can stay close to fence rows.”
“Okay,” Marilyn said. “We go east. First we have to get out of this subdivision.” She led the way, walking Cherokee down the middle of the street and leading the packhorse. Sonya and General fell in behind them, General naturally following the other horses with little prompting from Sonya. Chase brought up the rear on the unnamed mare and Honey seemed inclined to stay close to him. The street ran north and south, and Marilyn headed north. When that street came to a T, she turned left, and then right again on another cross street. They reached the northern edge of the subdivision. Several of the houses had privacy fences, but they found one with a yard backing up to a field and only barbed wire separating them. Marilyn climbed down and cut the barbed wire, and they rode out into an open drainage area alongside a road. A patch of trees gave them some cover as they rode east, but soon they came to a larger road blocking their path. Chase called for them to stop. They listened carefully, and in the distance, back toward the ranch, the sound of motors broke the silence. Ahead of them a few creepers shambled along the road, but they were scattered.
After Everything Else (Book 3): Creeper Revelation Page 12