by J. W. Vohs
Zach spoke quietly. “What about his eyes?”
“Charlotte’s right,” Gracie said decisively, “we can relax. He knows us, he’s talking—it’s Luke and it doesn’t matter what color his eyes are.” A wide smile bloomed across her face. “Charlotte, let’s fix a huge plate of chicken. Zach, you go find us a steak.”
Three hours after a red-dawn sunrise greeted the weary, grieving travelers on Lake Erie, their yacht pulled into the harbor on Middle Bass Island to find only one person awaiting their arrival. Brittany was surprised and disappointed to find that nobody from their families had come down to greet them; she would have appreciated the comfort of their presence after the trauma of the previous night.
The teen waiting at the docks grabbed their lines and tied them securely before offering an explanation for the lack of a welcoming committee. “Everyone’s gathered in the meeting center; they’ve been waiting for you. I’m supposed to take you there straightaway. Something really bad went down in Fort Wayne last night.”
Brittany’s heart leapt to her throat. “What do you mean by bad?”
The kid shrugged. “All I know is that the entire community was evacuating and they’re heading this way; you’ll have to ask somebody else for the specifics.”
Roberto had walked over to see what the conversation was about. “Fort Wayne is evacuating and coming here now?”
“Yep, that’s got everyone worried too. Evacuating the entire settlement by boat in the middle of a snowstorm. Plus, ever since you radioed us about your casualties, everybody’s been waiting to talk to you. We’re all sad about Father O’Brien and Mr. Bowen; I can’t really believe they’re gone.”
Roberto took off at a slow jog as tears sprang to his eyes. He didn’t want to look weak in front of Brittany, and the mention of Father O’Brien and Bruce had temporarily overwhelmed his emotions. “Well, come’on,” he called out over his shoulder, trying to sound nonchalant. “Let’s get this party started.”
Chuck was keeping frantically busy ferrying refugees from the Maumee out to the relative safety and comfort of Middle Bass Island. Fueled by prodigious amounts of coffee, and one surviving energy drink, the flights continued sporadically throughout the day and into the night. Jack and his team revised their plan and decided the convoy of watercraft should skip the stop in Defiance and continue straight to Middle Bass. Jack was anxious to talk to Lieutenant Heder and didn’t like the idea of putting it off, but it made sense to keep going as they raced against the coming storm.
David and Carter convinced Jack to catch a helicopter ride to Middle Bass early in the afternoon, so he could debrief the island leadership, use their equipment to try to check in with Vicksburg and Utah, and help coordinate the arrival of the refugees from Indiana. They both wanted to keep Jack as busy as possible so he wouldn’t have time to dwell on Andi’s abduction or his son’s fatal condition.
David and Christy took the lead position and kept the fleet moving downstream, taking advantage of the current and their small motors to steadily cover dozens of miles of the meandering river as daylight rapidly faded in the bleak winter sky.
“Do you think Father O’Brien will be waiting in the bay with a bunch of yachts by the time we reach Toledo?” Christy mumbled through chapped lips and benumbed facial muscles.
“Somebody from the island might be there,” David replied, “but I doubt that it’ll be our priest. I heard that O’Brien and Brittany had led a team from Middle Bass north to meet with some survivors from a big Canadian settlement.”
“I know,” Christy declared, “I’m the one who told you. And I’m counting on him being there with my cousin Michael, from Canada.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” David cautioned. “You’ve got about a one in a million chance on that.” He changed the subject, “How far you think we are from Toledo?”
“Forty miles, give or take a few. We should be in the bay by midnight, and cuddled in some bunks on Middle Bass by morning.”
David shivered. “I just can’t get used to the cold. I mean, I know I’ve lived a soft life and all, but I can remember some Thanksgivings that were like, sixty degrees outside.”
“The Utah weather guys were right, global temperatures have dropped. The really bad news is that we don’t actually know what the result of that drop will be this winter.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, just look at this river; a few more weeks and it’ll be frozen solid. If we do get back to Fort Wayne before spring, we’re gonna need a different evacuation plan.”
“Oh, no,” David groaned.
“What?”
“Christy, this river kept us safe in Fort Wayne. Sooner or later the hunters will figure out that they can cross the ice.”
Christy pushed her hair out of her face and looked at David with a stricken expression. “Has anyone thought about the waters icing over during this super-winter we’re supposed to have? Will the Ohio freeze up? What about all the river settlements down there?”
David slowly shook his head. “I don’t know, babe, I just don’t know. Everyone’s been so busy just surviving day to day; I have no idea if anyone’s considered the impact of frozen rivers.”
Christy voice went up in alarm, “What about Lake Erie?”
“You grew up in Cleveland; you tell me about Lake Erie.”
“Seems like it used to freeze over a lot more when I was a kid,” she explained cautiously. “And even when it is frozen, there’s still open water in some places.”
David nodded. “We’ll have to assume that Erie’s gonna freeze over this winter; we’ll probably have to deal with some hunter packs coming out onto the ice in search of food.”
“I’m not worried about a few packs,” Christy warned. “It’s that son-of-a-bitch Barnes who has me worried.”
On Middle Bass Island, Brittany and Roberto were answering questions about the Canadians. First, they’d been briefed about the attack on Fort Wayne and the subsequent evacuation of the populace that had resulted in several helicopter deliveries of sick and injured civilians to the island. They were told that the bulk of refugees were expected to arrive in less than twenty-four hours. They’d spent the next two hours giving a detailed report about their experiences in Sarnia. Roberto was tired of answering questions, and he was about to propose that they take a break when a guard ran into the facility and shouted that the chopper approaching from the southwest was carrying Jack Smith. The now-legendary fighter and leader had never been to the island, but his younger brother, David, was viewed as something close to the savior of the community on Middle Bass. By the time the aircraft touched down, Brittany, Roberto, and several local leaders were standing out in the cold with the medical personnel who’d greeted every landing helicopter, waiting to meet the man they’d heard so much about.
A tall, armored, hard-eyed soldier who bore resemblance to David was the first to exit the helicopter as the rotors slowed, but instead of walking over to introduce himself, he motioned for assistance as he opened the bay door. Brittany was the first to reach Jack’s side, arriving in time to help him lower a damp, shivering, elderly woman to the ground. A quick look inside the chopper revealed ten more older people in similar condition, and one teen nursing what appeared to be a broken arm. Within five minutes, all the suffering evacuees had been whisked away and were being treated at the islanders make-shift medical clinic. Jack was escorted to the community center, where he quickly explained to a packed conference room everything he knew about the attack on Fort Wayne and the progress of the evacuation.
“That’s basically it,” he finished up. “We need you to find some type of shelter for five hundred people, and provisions for two weeks. We’ll replace anything we use, and figure out a plan for winter without dragging you down with us.”
Brittany was cold, tired, and indifferent to the island’s established chain-of-command. “Hey,” she stated loudly so everyone could hear, “we’re all in this together. I owe David and his people everything
, my life, my little sister’s life. This entire settlement wouldn’t have survived without his help. You can stay here for the winter and not give it a second thought. We’ve been accumulating supplies from the mainland for more than three months; we’ve always been your backup location.”
Jack noticed that several other islanders didn’t appear to share Brittany’s opinion on hosting hundreds of hungry refugees, but everything she said was true. David’s group had saved her life, and that of her sister, before teaching the islanders everything they knew about the outbreak and fighting the infected. The survivors on Middle Bass had been scattered and hiding when David arrived. By the time he left, the island was clear of flesh-eaters, and the people knew that the world had collapsed. They’d understood that their survival would depend on how hard and smart they worked, as well as the alliances they forged. Father O’Brien had stayed behind to help guide the fledgling community, and under his tutelage they’d grown and prospered. Now, the time had come to repay their debt. If some of the islanders didn’t quite grasp that fact, Brittany sure did.
What Jack didn’t know was that all of the fighters on Middle Bass respected and admired Brittany, and they practically worshipped Father O’Brien. Brittany herself wasn’t aware of the influence she wielded in her community, but after she spoke a few members of the leadership council made it clear to everyone present that General Smith and the refugees from Indiana could count on the islanders’ unwavering support, no matter what they needed. The wise council members understood that, in this world, the character of your allies was a matter of life and death, and the Hoosiers were the best friends Middle Bass had left.
By the time Zach returned from his foraging, with Maddy by his side and a backpack full of steaks, Luke was gently snoring. He’d eagerly consumed two large plates of chicken, asked for an update about what was happening in Fort Wayne, and told Gracie he loved her at least a dozen times. About five minutes after he’d finished off the second plate of meat, he started having trouble keeping his eyes open. Gracie had told him to get some rest, and he’d dozed off almost instantly. Gracie had crawled in to bed with him and fallen asleep with her head on his chest.
“How is he?” Maddy asked warily. “Zach says he’s . . . different.”
“Was he always a blathering romantic, all mushy and lovey-dovey?” Charlotte asked.
Maddy looked confused. “No . . .”
“Then he’s different,” Charlotte stated firmly. “And he has one heck of an appetite.”
Zach studied Gracie and Luke for a minute before asking, “Do you think she’s safe laying there with him?”
Gracie opened one eye. “Don’t be stupid,” she whispered. She nuzzled Luke’s chest before sitting up and stretching. “What are you really worried about, Zach?”
Maddy answered for him, “We’re both concerned that he could still slip away from us. Nothing like this has ever happened before, and we don’t know that he’s out of the woods yet.”
“I know he is.” Gracie stood up, and Luke mumbled and shifted position under the covers.
Charlotte flopped on the couch and put her feet up. “If Zach and Maddy are worried, I bet a lot of people are going to feel the same way. I know that everyone was talking like they thought Luke could beat this thing, but I don’t think anybody really believed it would happen.”
Gracie had an idea. “Maddy or Charlotte, General Carlson and his troops were the ones who swore that a few westerners had survived bites through the treatment we gave Luke right after he was bitten; would one of you go find him and get him over here?” Before Zach could offer to make the trip, Gracie continued, “Zach, I want to make sure you get some sleep, and I want you here to talk to Luke as soon as he wakes up. I’m making you our official bodyguard.”
Charlotte smiled to herself at the irony of the situation, and offered to find Carlson or some of the other westerners. “I want to check on my kids anyway—”
“They were both sound asleep when we left,” Maddy cut in. “Lucy was just tired, but I think T.C. keeps typical teenager hours, you know, like a vampire . . .”
“Yeah, he’ll wake up by mid-afternoon,” Charlotte sighed. “I’ll be back soon; in the meantime, we should keep the news about Luke to ourselves.”
“Good call,” Maddy replied. As soon as Charlotte left, Maddy turned to Zach and Gracie. “Do you mind if we cook up some of that steak we brought? I’m starving.”
Zach began searching for a match to light the small gas stove in the cabin. “If one of you can find me some salt and pepper, I’ll get to frying some of these these babies.”
As the smell of roasting flesh filled the cabin, Luke woke up and called out for Gracie. She rushed to his side. “Hey, baby, how are you feeling? Can I get you anything?”
He propped himself up and looked around the room. “You’re letting Zach cook?” he joked in a weak voice. “Tell him I want mine rare, no seasoning.”
“Sure, baby, whatever you want.”
He squeezed her hand and added instructions, “Just sear the meat on each side for about a minute and then cut it into tiny pieces. You’ll probably have to feed me like you did last time.”
Gracie looked over at Zach, who stood waiting with a steak in each hand. “Did you hear? Make Luke’s steak rare, no seasoning. I’ll cut it up when it’s ready.”
Luke stared hungrily toward the kitchen as he waited with increasing anticipation. Finally, Gracie stabbed one of the prime cuts with a fork and began cutting it into pieces she’d consider safe for a toddler. Then she sat down next to her husband and waved a bloody morsel in front of his expectant face.
“Sure this is what you want right now?”
Luke opened his mouth in reply, looking like a baby bird waiting to receive food from its tardy mother. He didn’t even attempt to chew the first piece of flesh before swallowing, and Gracie pulled back with an expression of worry and a bit of frustration.
“I told you last time, slow down and chew; if you start choking we might kill you with the Heimlich Maneuver as weak as you are right now.”
“Okay,” he whispered hungrily. “I’ll slow down. But this is a thousand times better than that chicken.”
He took his time with the next bite, chewing a few times and enjoying the taste of the blood dribbling down his throat. Gracie smiled and speared another piece of meat. Ten minutes later, Luke had finished the first steak and indicated that he wanted more.
“Let’s give it a few minutes,” Gracie suggested. “Give yourself some time to digest what you just scarfed down. Besides, there are a couple people here who are pretty anxious to talk to you.”
“Can I at least have some water?” Luke smiled at Gracie.
“Of course,” Gracie replied as she reached out to take Luke’s pulse. “I’ll get you some in a second. Just be still for a minute so I can count.” She frowned a bit as she counted, and then shook her head and started over. Maddy and Zach stood behind her, silently staring at Luke.
“You guys are starting to make me nervous,” Luke offered. “I must look pretty bad.”
“Shhh,” Gracie ordered. “Your heart rate is ridiculously low. I want to check again.”
“I’m not going anywhere.” Luke took Gracie’s hand in his own. “I’d really like to talk to Maddy and Zach, and I’m still hungry for more of that steak.”
Gracie pushed Luke’s hair away from his forehead. “Fine, I’ll get you some water and more food.” She turned to her friends, “You two don’t get him worked up or tire him out.”
Zach saluted. “You’re the boss.”
Gracie playfully punched him in the shoulder. “And don’t you forget it.”
Maddy waved a water bottle and asked Gracie, “Can I give him this?”
“Hey,” Luke looked from Maddy to Zach, “She may be the boss, but I think I can speak for myself about some things.” He cracked a small smile. “So will you hand over that water?”
Maddy held out the bottle, but didn’t say a word. Luk
e took the water in his unbandaged hand. “Uh, could you get the cap off for me?”
Gracie rushed to his side. “Let me hold it for you—”
“Babe, I think I can do it if you’ll just get the cap off. Why are you all acting so weird?”
Zach sat down by his friend, “Dude, you know you’re supposed to be dead, right?” He reached over and took the cap off the water bottle. “How would you expect us to act?”
Luke’s arm shook as he lifted the bottle to his mouth and took a sloppy drink. He looked at Gracie, “Maybe a straw?”
She grinned, “I’ll see what I can do. Just let us take care of you for a while longer, superman.”
Luke locked eyes with Maddy, who was uncharacteristically quiet. She unconsciously took a step back, away from the piercing black eyes.
“Maddy, are you afraid of me?” Luke was clearly hurt. “Have I done something that I don’t know about?”
Zach began, “The only thing you’ve done is scare the crap out of us by almost dying. Now, if you saw your—“
“Face,” Maddy finished the sentence for him. “You look like hell. Plus I’ve got a cold coming on and the last thing you need is my germs.” She shot Zach a glance that told him to keep his mouth shut about Luke’s altered appearance.
Luke seemed satisfied by her reply. He leaned back on his pillows and started fiddling with the bandage on his hand. “If I can beat the zombie virus, I can probably survive whatever bug you picked up, but I appreciate you looking out for me.”
Gracie brought Luke a straw, then she felt his forehead with the back of her hand and straightened out his blankets before returning to the kitchen to make him more steak. “You have five minutes to talk, Zach. Then I’m making you both take a nap,” she raised her voice to be heard over the sizzling meat on the stove.
“I don’t remember her being this bossy,” Zach joked. “I guess that’s what happens to women when they get married.”