“Yes sir, the one I use for school and the boots I wear to Girl Scout camp,” she said.
“I want you to go to your room and get jeans, socks, panties, and shirts. Put them on the bed with your backpack, okay?,” Bruce instructed. Bridgett took a long look at her mother and left to do as she was told.
When Bruce turned back to Karen, her breathing had changed. It was starting to sound raspy, shallow, and slow. Her skin had a light blue tint to it, and her body was really cold to the touch.
“Where is her birth certificate, stuff like that, in case this madness ever ends, and where is her father?” Bruce asked.
“Her father is in prison, and she has never seen him. In the kitchen on the counter there is a big Bible––it has all of our records in it,” Karen said softly. “I can’t say I’m grateful enough to you. I felt like they were going to kill me then rape my baby then kill her. If I get to heaven or hell, I will watch over you and your family for this. It is the only payment I can offer.”
“I will protect Bridgett, and I will show her how to protect herself. Rest at ease about her. I will do my best,” Bruce promised.
“I’m done, Mr. Bruce,” Bridgett said, running back into the room.
“Come here and tell your mama bye. She won’t be here much longer,” Bruce told her.
Bridgett came up to the side of the bed and kissed her mama on the cheek. “I love you, Mama, and I will always miss you,” she said, with tears running down her face.
“I will always be with you. Now you have to be my hero, okay, and remember your promise,” Karen said in a weak whisper.
“I will always keep my promise, Mama,” Bridgett said.
Karen looked up at Bruce and said, “She will be twelve in October, but she acts much more mature. She has already skipped a grade because she is so smart. Thank you, Bruce, for answering my prayer.” Karen closed her eyes as her breathing became shallower.
Bruce knew what was coming and had to get the girl out. He pulled her from the room, closing the door.
“We have to go now before your mama tries to hurt us,” Bruce said.
He walked her down the hall to Bridgett’s room, and on her bed were the clothes he told her to lay out with a blue backpack next to them. Grabbing several blue jeans, a lot of socks and panties, then shirts, Bruce threw them in the backpack. It was stuffed full, but they could fold them later. Walking out, Bruce looked on her dresser and saw a baseball glove. Beside it was a pair of batting gloves. He picked them up, putting them in the stuffed pack. He told Bridgett to wait there as he went into the kitchen to get the Bible. As he stepped over bodies, the rapist started to cry. Bruce stopped and looked down at him and grabbed him by one arm, pulling him down the hallway into Karen’s room.
“I can’t move my arm’s and legs,” the rapist said, crying.
“I know. I cut your spinal cord. When Karen turns, she will have a fresh meal,” Bruce said with an evil grin. As he reached for the door, Bruce stopped, grabbing one of the rapist’s fingers and breaking it. The man let out a cry as Bruce’s grin broadened into a smile. He could still feel pain, Bruce thought, opening the door and dragging the rapist in the room.
Leaving him at the foot of the bed, Bruce looked in the bed and could not see any breathing from Karen. Her skin was a much darker blue. Backing out of the room, closing the door, and walking to Bridgett’s room, Bruce stopped, picking up Bridgett in his arms. He saw a picture on the wall that was taken very recently of Bridgett and her mother, so he grabbed it. Then Bruce grabbed one just of Bridgett. Walking to the front door, he picked up the Bible. Just then, a thought crossed his mind.
“Bridgett, was there any more mean men?” Bruce asked.
“Yes sir, there were two more but they left a long time ago. They said they wanted to score weed,” she said, crying.
“Bridgett, you can’t cry now, there is evil outside this door. You crying can get us both killed. We both will cry for your mama later, I promise,” Bruce told her, looking into her tear-streaked face.
Bruce put her down before going out the door, looking at her, realizing she had never put on any clothes. “Bridgett, why didn’t you put on some clothes?” he asked her.
“You did not tell me to,” she said, wiping tears off her face.
Bruce pulled his scrub top off from under his vest, which was no easy feat, but he still did it quickly. He put the dirty scrub top on Bridgett along with the stuffed backpack. Giving her the small hiking boots to hold, Bruce kept the pictures and Bible in his left hand.
“When we go outside, I don’t care what you see, you do not scream. Do you understand?” he asked.
“Yes sir,” she replied with determination.
Bruce changed magazines in the .45 then he slowly opened the front door. He had only been in the house for forty minutes, but to his body and mind it seemed like years. Stepping onto the deck with his new shadow, Bruce closed the door gently. As they walked off the stairs, he heard voices coming toward him. Grabbing Bridgett, Bruce jumped over the railing behind the deck. They waited for a few minutes, kneeling down as two men appeared from the front of the trailer. Both had on baggy pants, and tattoos covered both of their arms. Each was laughing as they stepped up onto the deck, heading inside, as one said, “I hope there is some of that bitch left.” The other replied, “There was still the little girl,” which made both laugh. As one reached for the door, Bruce stood up. Taking aim at their knees, he fired four shots, hitting each one in the knees.
They both started yelling as Bruce jumped back over the railing. Running up to the pieces of shit, Bruce pulled guns from their waistbands. Giving each a quick pat down and not finding any more weapons, he jumped off the deck. Picking up the Bible and picture off the ground where he left them in his left hand, Bruce scooped up Bridgett with his right arm and ran. When he got to the fence behind their trailer, he sat Bridgett on top of it then swung himself over. When Bruce landed, he was looking down the barrel of Mike’s SCAR.
“I was coming to look for you,” Mike said, breathing heavily.
“Well, you found me,” Bruce replied, handing him the Bible and picture. Then, turning back, Bruce picked up Bridgett off the top of the fence.
“What happened?” Mike asked, seeing the dark look on Bruce’s face.
“Later,” Bruce replied.
Just then two screams filled the air. Mike spun around with his SCAR, pointing it at the back fence. “What the fuck is that?” Mike said in a quiet voice.
“Justice,” Bruce replied, pulling Mike into the trailer as the screams filled the air. Right before Bruce closed the door, he was certain he heard another muffled scream coming from inside the trailer he had just left.
Chapter 28
After Bruce shut the door, he went into the kitchen telling everyone what had happened. Mike had immediately wanted to go over and burn the corpses. Bruce told him justice was still alive.
Bruce introduced Bridgett to everyone. For the first time, he really got to see her. She had long blond hair with Shirley Temple curls. Her eyes were a dark blue set in a face that looked like it came from a doll. Granted, she was filthy like the rest of them, but he could see she was a pretty young girl. She was a little short for her age with a slight muscle tone to her body. He hoped she was as strong as she looked because they had one long hike ahead of them through hell.
After Bruce had left on his little excursion, Mike had pulled out all the gear, laying it out on the living room floor. They had waited in case they had to take off running again. Each of them knew that if they had to run much further, they would die. Nobody had anything left to give. Bruce looked up at Angela and told her to take a shower. Clapping her hands, smiling, Angela picked up Cade and left for the shower. Alex asked her not to use all the hot water. Then Mike informed him that they had hot water on demand; it would not run out.
Stripping down to his underwear, Bruce walked over to his pack, tactical vest, and SCAR lying on the floor. He was going to have to dump som
e gear to make room for the weapons they had picked up. Before he sat down, he looked over on the couch, and Bridgett was just sitting there watching him in his filthy scrub top. Shaking his head, Bruce walked to the back room, opening a dresser and pulling out a clean shirt. Turning to take it to Bridgett, he almost stepped on her as she followed behind him. Shaking his head again, Bruce reached down, pulling off the dirty shirt, and put the clean one on Bridgett. Then Bruce walked back to the living room, throwing the shirt in the pile of clothes he was going to put in the garbage.
He sat down on the floor to go through his gear as Bridgett sat down beside him looking up at him. “What?” he asked her.
“When can I cry for Mama?” she asked.
A lump caught in his throat. He held out his arms, and Bridgett walked over and sat in his lap. “When we get home, you and I will sit in the chair in the game room. Then we both will cry for your mama together. Right now you have to stay strong because we have a long fight ahead of us getting home. You have to hold that sadness in because if you let it out now, you might make a mistake and get us killed,” Bruce told her, rubbing her head. “Do you understand, Bridgett?” he asked.
“Yes sir. I have to be a hero for Mama,” she replied.
“What did your mama call you?” Mike asked from the kitchen.
“She called me Buffy,” Bridgett said.
“Like the vampire slayer Buffy?” Bruce asked grinning.
“Yeah, she said I could change the world like her,” she replied.
“Well then, Buffy, I have to say your mother was right. Now bring me your backpack,” Bruce told her.
As she got up, she hugged Bruce then got her pack, bringing it over to Bruce. Bruce asked Mike to throw him a box of Ziploc freezer bags. Bruce pulled out the wadded up clothes and neatly folded the pants, placing them at the bottom of the bag. Then he did the same with the shirts. Next he put all of her socks and underwear in a Ziploc bag, sealing it up and placing it in the pack. Bruce asked Buffy to bring him the Bible. Bruce went through it, removing pictures, Social Security cards, birth certificates, newspaper clippings, and other important family memorable items. When he had gotten all the papers out, he placed them in a freezer bag. The papers alone were about nine pounds of paper. He slid it to the side of her pack. Taking the family Bible was out of the question. It was twenty inches tall, twenty inches wide, and at least ten inches thick, weighing an easy twenty-five. The Bible alone would have taken up most of Bridgett’s pack with not much room to spare. Bruce was going to be close to his max carry weight after he added the weapons, so he decided to leave it here. Maybe one day he could come back for it for Buffy. Angela came into the living room with a towel around her head and Cade wrapped in a towel. Bruce told Buffy to go into the bathroom and get a toothbrush and toothpaste from under the sink. They always bought them in bulk, so Buffy went and grabbed them and put them in her pack.
As Angela was hitting Alex to wake him up to take a shower, Bruce was teaching Buffy how to find stuff in her pack by touch and placement. Alex woke up and walked down the hall to take a shower. Bruce told Buffy to get four bottles of water from the kitchen, and he put them in her pack. Then he started going through his gear.
He took out the two sets of BDUs. He would only take the pair that he would wear, leaving the second here. Then, disassembling one M-4 that had the M-203, Bruce placed it in his pack. When he got home, he would put the grenade launcher on his SCAR, but he did not have the tools here. Grabbing a ballistic vest, Bruce stripped the web gear off of it. Cleaning the blood off of it, Bruce then put his tactical vest over it, attaching the two together.
Next, the holster on his tactical vest that was on his chest for a cross draw, he cut the end out of it so he could put the .45 in it with the suppressor on. It would stick out with the added seven inches, but he wanted at least one of his pistols ready with a suppressor. The suppressor for the 1911 .45 he would keep in his pack for now. Grabbing his boots, Bruce put a new coat of polish on them. Then he disassembled the SCAR, cleaning it and putting it back together. With his pack and new tactical vest, he figured that they weighed about ninety pounds together after he put thirty forty-millimeter grenades in his pack. Then the SAW he would attach to the side of his pack, plus with the hand grenades he had, Bruce figured he would be toting roughly one hundred and thirty pounds of gear.
Mike had moved his gear into the kitchen, putting it on the table. He was going through his pack to see what he would leave also. He set up his pack almost identical to Bruce’s, so if one went down, the other would know where equipment would be in the other’s pack.
While the two were working on their packs, Angela was fixing something to eat. Cade was sitting at her feet playing with a book he had found. Alex came back from his shower and looked like he felt a lot better. Bruce told Mike to go ahead and take a shower. Looking at Bruce, Mike did not argue at all as he trotted to the shower. If Mike did not argue, Bruce knew that Mike was running on empty. They could get some sleep and hopefully leave tomorrow morning.
After Angela finished fixing something to eat, she started feeding Cade, who liked it a lot. Bruce got up to fix him and Buffy something to eat when he looked at the monitors to the cameras outside. There were two infected walking down the road in front of the trailer. When Angela turned to see what he was looking at, she took in a sharp breath.
Bruce assured her that they could not hear them in the trailer with the reinforced walls, and all the shutters were closed over the windows. Unless someone beat on the walls, they would never know they were here. The air conditioner was a quiet model and could not be heard unless you were standing next to it. Plus, with the power still on, all the trailers’ air would be running. He told her and Alex about all the work they had done here. Then Bruce started telling them about the farm when Mike walked in from his shower with a freshly shaved face and buzz-cut hair.
Mike told Bruce to go take a shower. As Bruce got up, so did Buffy, following him to the shower. Bruce looked down at her and said, “You can take a shower before me or after, but the bathroom is off limits until I get out.”
“You are not leaving me, Mr. Bruce,” she told him in a firm little voice.
“Buffy, you just heard me tell Angela and Alex that we are safe in here, okay,” Bruce tried to reason with her.
“I will stand at the door and close my eyes,” she said, looking up at him.
“Whatever,” Bruce replied. He was too tired to argue now. The others were just looking at the two, smiling.
Bruce took his shower with Buffy at the door with her hands over her eyes. After he had shaved his head, he got out and dried off. He told Buffy to get in and wash; he was going into the kitchen and would be right back. First he went to the bedroom and put on some lounge pants then walked to the kitchen.
When Bruce reached the kitchen, Mike asked, “Where is your little shadow?”
“In the shower,” Bruce replied then turned to look at Angela. “Angela, will you go and look her over and make sure those assholes did not hurt her?” Bruce asked.
Angela jumped up and headed to the bathroom. Several minutes later, she returned, reporting Buffy was all right and had asked where Bruce was. Bruce headed back to the bathroom just as Buffy was getting out and drying off. She wrapped a towel around her as Bruce grabbed a brush off the countertop and brushed her hair. After he had finished she put her t-shirt back on that Bruce had gave her. They both walked back to the kitchen, where everyone was sitting around the table in a daze. Looking at the exhausted group, Bruce told Angela and Alex to sleep in his room with Cade. He and Buffy would sleep on the couch. Mike offered to let them have his bed, but Bruce said he did not like it. As everyone headed to bed, Bruce looked at his watch; it was 3 p.m. He walked over to his messenger bag and dug out his cell phone.
He looked at the display, and it had one bar. Normally it would be full here. He typed a message to his Debbie. The first good thing in his life was her. Everything else that was good in his life
was because of her. From his kids to Mike and Nancy, it had been she who had come up with the idea of everyone going in together to get the farm. Yes, Bruce had wanted someplace to set up as a place to prepare, but it was Debbie who made it happen. She had followed him for his six years in the Army, four of those as a nurse. Then she only complained one time to Bruce for what he was turning into in the Army and with that one time he left the Army.
After he finished typing his message, the phone only said sending and stayed on that screen. Setting the phone on the bar, Bruce walked back to the couch and lay down. Just then a little girl squirmed in beside him, wrapping her arms around him. Turning on his side, Bruce put his arm under Buffy, pulling her off the edge of the couch.
“Who did you text, Mr. Bruce?” she asked.
“My wife, Debbie. I told her I was fine and I was coming home to her and the kids,” Bruce replied.
“Will they like me, Mr. Bruce?” she asked.
“Yes, Buffy, they will love you. You already have four older brothers and two older sisters,” he replied, pulling her close.
“Mr. Bruce, can I call you Daddy? I never had one,” she asked hopefully.
Bruce turned, looking down at her, and thought before answering, “Yes, you can call me Daddy if you like. You are part of our family now. My kids call Mr. Mike Daddy Mike and his wife Mama Nancy, and so can you, because family comes first.”
She reached up, kissing him on the cheek, and he pulled her closer to him as they both fell fast asleep in a world gone mad. Neither of them heard the phone chime several hours later that the message went through before the battery died. Everyone slept a dreamless sleep. There would be time enough for nightmares later.
Chapter 29
Bruce awoke to the sound of soft voices in the living room. Cracking his eyes open, he saw Buffy playing with Cade in the middle of the living room. They were watching a DVD on the TV, and Buffy was keeping Cade entertained. Bruce lifted his arm up to his face to look at his watch. It read 8 a.m. He plopped his arm back down––almost eighteen hours of sleep. Shit, that had to be some kind of record for him. Sitting up, Bruce saw Alex and Mike at the table drinking coffee with several spray bottles on the table between them as he pushed off the couch to join them.
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