by J. Thorn
Melissa pulled back enough so that she could look into my eyes. Hers glimmered with tears and her smile made me feel warm. She glanced over at Teresa, her smile changing to a Cheshire grin. “You’re just mad ‘cause I beat you to the punch.”
“True,” Teresa conceded. “Now get your skinny butt off of him so I can give him a hug!”
“Fine.” Melissa kissed me again, this time more deeply as she slowly unwrapped her legs and lowered herself to the floor.
“Welcome back, Steve.” Teresa made an exaggerated show of stepping directly in front of me. She enveloped me in a hug which I gladly returned.
Can somebody change so much in just a couple of weeks? I wondered. This sixteen-year-old girl that I had found hiding in the bathroom of a small convenience store that first day had transformed in amazing ways. A few years older, and she’d have been the one leading this group. I had no doubt about that.
“It’s good to be back.” I kissed her on the cheek. “Dr. Zahn already filled me in,” I said taking the burden of such a terrible secret off her shoulders.
“What?” Teresa spun around on the doctor with what sounded like genuine anger.
“Whoa!” Dr. Zahn put her hands up. “Ummm, no. Melissa, I think we should step outside for a moment.”
“I so don’t understand women.” I glanced at Melissa fully expecting Doctor Francis Zahn to tell her exactly what to do with that suggestion.
“Yeah, right.” Melissa kissed Teresa on the cheek and gave my hand a squeeze. What the hell?
The two left, and I could see Aaron, Ian, Jamie, and Billy on the porch in a cluster. The door closed, and I turned to Teresa with a look of confusion. I knew about Randi. In fact, according to Dr. Zahn, I knew more than she did. So what the—
“I’m pregnant.”
“Hell.”
“What?” Teresa had very tactfully put herself between me and the door.
“Sorry,” I apologized, and shook my head. “Just finishing a thought out loud.” I looked her over. Was there really a difference in the girl I was seeing? “Congratulations? I mean …dammit, I don’t know what to say here.”
“I’ll take the congrats,” she said, glancing over her shoulder at the group gathered on the porch. “You aren’t going to be all weird about this are you? I know you’ve had a few issues with me and Jamie.”
“Teresa,” I stepped close and took her in my arms hugging her, “the world is a crazy place right now. A sixteen-year-old mother is the least of our problems.”
“I’ll be seventeen in November,” she said with a smile looking up at me.
“WOW! Just a year away from being old enough to vote.”
“Funny.”
“I take it by the congregation outside that this is common knowledge?”
“Only with our original group.” Teresa laid her head on my chest and exhaled. “Things have been weird here with you gone.”
“You mean Randi?”
“Well…” she paused. “It’s not just that. It’s a bunch of things that just seem strange.”
“We’ve got some things to talk about I guess.” I rested my chin on the top of her head.
“Yeah, but can we wait? I just want to enjoy today. You’re back. This is a good day. We don’t get enough of those.”
“Abso—”
“We’ve got incoming survivors!” Ian announced as he threw the door open. “Three by the looks of it. On foot and armed.”
“Of course,” Teresa said with a sigh. She and I followed Ian out onto the porch with the others.
“Is that a—” I squinted.
“Flamethrower,” Dr. Zahn confirmed.
14
Death Knocks
“Set down your weapons,” I repeated, a little louder this time.
The three individuals huddled together for a moment, then one stepped away, hands in the air. It wasn’t the one carrying the flamethrower. He began peeling off an impressive assortment of weapons: blades, bludgeons, and firearms.
“What’s he got?” Dr. Zahn whispered, “An entire armory strapped to his body?”
Finally finished, the man began walking up the entrance road between the earthen berms on either side. He kept his hands open and held above his head. Keeping my pistol, I went down to meet him. Twice I saw him turn and say something over his shoulder. I couldn’t hear the words, but I knew the tone: keep quiet and behave.
Ten yards or so apart, we both stopped. I looked the man over. Black, almost as dark as Barry, a tight mat of dark, kinky hair, average height, slender like a runner, missing his left eye and not wearing a patch—at least not at the moment.
“I see you folks got this place set up pretty good,” the man broke the silence. “We ain’t lookin’ for any trouble. Actually found this place on a map at a rest area not too far up the road. Figured it might be worth checking out. If you folks don’t want us here we’ll be on our way. But would you mind if we filled our water bags in the stream first?”
“Looking for a place to settle?” I asked, unable to keep myself from glancing past this man to the one up the road holding the flamethrower.
“Such as it is,” the man nodded. “The name’s Jonathan Saunders. Formerly Sergeant Saunders, United States Marine Corps.”
“Long ways from any major bases aren’t ya, Sarge?” I asked.
“I was working as a recruiter in Boise,” the man smiled.
“The others?” I nodded my head to the couple standing in the middle of the entry road looking just a little edgy.
“Pair of soldiers I ran into at a FEMA center that only managed to hold out for ten days,” the man explained. “A couple folks inside were bit. Probably on the first day before the CDC finally copped to what was happening. Protocol hadn’t been put in place yet to isolate potentially infected persons. One night everything went bad…fast. The three of us made it out.
“They keep flamethrowers like those at FEMA stations?”
“No,” the sergeant chuckled. “We hit an armory. Thing’s been empty for a week, but Sanchez thinks it looks scary and will keep bush-leaguers at bay.”
“Sanchez is a smart guy, my people are in a tizzy.”
“I’ll pass that along…?” his voice left an open question and I realized that he’d introduced himself but I hadn’t reciprocated.
“My name is Steve Hobart,” I said, and decided to close the remaining distance. I offered my hand.
“Nice to meetcha.” The sergeant smiled and took my hand; solid grip without trying to pull some sort of pressure test.
“I guess I don’t have to ask what you have to offer if you stay.” I glanced over my shoulder. We’d gained an audience. It looked like everybody had come to see what was up. Would we ever reach the point where newcomers don’t cause a big stir?
“I’d be happy to tell my men to disarm,” the sergeant offered.
“That would help, but I’d also need you to let our doctor give everybody an exam. I hope you can appreciate that we couldn’t just take somebody’s word that nobody is bitten,” I explained, trying not to sound apologetic. For some reason I felt it was important to play the role of leader here.
“And if somebody is bit?”
“We quarantine them until we can be certain.”
“Certain?” The sergeant’s expression and tone told me that he didn’t know about the possibility that a person might be immune. I explained briefly about Curtis Sheppard.
“Well, I’ll be,” the sergeant breathed.
“So, I’m sure there are other details that we can deal with, but would you and your men like to stay?”
“I have little doubt, but if you give me a moment,” Sergeant Saunders said, then nodded and turned to his men.
I decided that it would be good to go back up to my people and fill them in. I didn’t anticipate any problems. Still, it felt like the proper thing to do. After all, we’re a group and I wasn’t really like the boss or anything. Right?
“So?” Dr. Zahn led the frontal
assault of the inquisition. “What’s the deal?”
“Is that a flamethrower?” Jason piped up.
“I’ve invited them to stay, and yes it’s real, but the tanks are empty,” I answered. “I told their leader, Sergeant Saunders, that they would have to submit to a full screening by Dr. Zahn.”
“Are they really soldiers?” Emily pushed to the front. I saw a look of hope and expectancy on her face. Her dad, a CDC upper management type, had whisked her to a military outpost: Serenity Base. That’s where we’d eventually found safety; even if only for a brief while. When things looked bad, Emily’s dad, Randall Smith, asked me to bring her with my group—along with one of his doctors, Dr. Francis Zahn—when we evacuated. When we saw soldiers, I imagine she thought that maybe her dad might by with them.
“They’re from Boise.” I knelt in front of a nine-year-old girl and stared into eyes that betrayed her mother’s Asian heritage. Well, that and her straight, black hair. “One is a Marine, and the other two are soldiers. I don’t think that they knew your daddy, sweetie.”
“Okay,” Emily said and stepped back beside Thalia.
I only had a moment to puzzle over the awkward reunion with Emily; we’d really started getting closer in the days leading up to my most recent departure.
I took the task of introducing all of my people. There were twenty now…Wow! When did that happen? The names ticked off as I had each person step forward: Dr. Zahn, Teresa, Thalia, Emily, Melissa, Ian, Billy, Jamie, Aaron, Sunshine, Chloe, Fiona, Brad, Jillian, Molly, Jason, Paul, George, Curtis, and me. A post-apocalyptic Mousekateer roll call. And with the exception of a handful…all murder suspects.
“My name is Jonathan Saunders. I think we can dismiss the title of sergeant at this point.” The man stepped forward and shook the nearest hands available as he spoke. “These two are Jesus Sanchez and Jake Beebe. I’ll let y’all decide which is which.”
Jake had center stage now that Jesus had unloaded the flamethrower. At about six-feet tall and well over two hundred pounds, he looked like every stereotypical farm boy. In a word: big. As he greeted those around him, I wasn’t surprised at all to hear a lazy Southern drawl.
Once the initial introductions concluded, I told Teresa and Ian to show our three new arrivals around. I whispered to Dr. Zahn that I would meet her after dinner to discuss the issue. I made eye contact with Melissa. She followed my gaze. Emily had pulled away from the group and was standing alone, staring at the ground. She nodded and grabbed Thalia by the hand saying something that made the little girl smile and nod eagerly. Everyone drifted off to whatever tasks that had been interrupted by this excitement leaving me with Emily.
“Hey, little one.” I sat down on the edge of the porch letting my legs dangle. I patted the spot beside me.
Nothing.
“Aren’t you gonna welcome me back?” I asked.
An indistinct mumble.
Obviously this tactic was a bust. This further instilled the belief that I knew absolutely nothing about being a parent. I sat quietly for a moment, pondering my next destined-to-fail move when I noticed her shuffle a few baby steps my way. Okay, I thought, I’ll take the shy-forest-creature approach. In other words, sit still and quiet and let her come to me.
A few minutes later she trudged over and sat down beside me, hands folded in her lap. I put my arm around her shoulder and she collapsed into my side, crying. No…not just crying; I’d never considered the difference between crying and all out sobbing. Emily was sobbing. I did the only thing I could possibly do and not screw it up. I sat quietly.
***
“So how do we go about this?” Dr. Zahn asked.
We’d walked out on one of the increasingly overgrown nature trails to ensure a little privacy. For now, I felt it best to keep this between me and her.
“I guess I should have watched more of those CSI shows,” I said with a shrug, “because I am at a total loss on how we should conduct a murder investigation.”
“Well, it’s not like I can rely on forensic evidence.”
“And questioning people…I wouldn’t have any clue on what to ask or how to judge if anyone is telling the truth or not,” I admitted.
“We’re gonna have to bring in some of the others,” Dr. Zahn said.
“We agree on Teresa and Ian.” I still have a tiny reservation about him, but my gut said he wasn’t the killing type. And if he had in fact done time, as I had suspected, perhaps he could be of some assistance. “I think we need at least one more set of eyes.”
“Two,” Dr. Zahn countered. “I’ll concede Melissa, partially because I’m fairly certain it’s not her, but also because there’s no way I could expect you to keep something this big from your sweetheart. But…I’d like to bring in Curtis Sheppard.”
“The immune guy?” I asked totally surprised by this choice.
“I’ve gotten to know him a little better in your absence,” Dr. Zahn explained. “He’s very bright and I trust him.”
“Replacing Dave are we?” I instantly regretted the statement. It’s one of those things that sounded witty and clever in my head, but fell out of my mouth like a lead balloon.
“Don’t be vile, Steve,” Dr. Zahn scolded.
“Sorry,” I said and meant it. Really? How could I joke like that? I killed Dave Ellis after his actions had almost cost Thalia her life. No, let’s be honest; I murdered Dave Ellis. That should mean that, had I not been gone, I would be a perfect suspect in the Randi Jenkins murder case. We had our moments. “So, tell me about Curtis. Why him?”
“He’s not one of our core group; and I think he’s fair-minded. He’ll be the one checking out each of us as we check out everybody else,” the doctor stated.
It made perfect sense. If we didn’t bring in somebody outside of our little click, it might look bad later when the investigation was revealed. And eventually it would have to be.
“You want to tell him?” I asked.
“I’d prefer you to do it.”
“Umm…” That was puzzling, but I wasn’t going to open my mouth again. I’d already said something stupid once.
***
“…and Dr. Zahn is certain?” Curtis stopped and turned to face me. I’d made the excuse of asking him to give me a hand cutting down some trees for firewood. If we wanted it seasoned and ready it would be best to start now. “Who would want to kill that nice woman?”
“Well, that is what we are going to find out,” I said. “But the problem we have, is that if only those of us from our original group do the investigating—”
“It will look shady,” Curtis finished my sentence. “Yeah, I could see that. So who do you suspect?”
“That’s the problem,” I admitted. “We don’t even have the slightest clue.”
“So I’m supposed to just keep my eyes open for anything suspicious.”
“Pretty much.”
“And who do I report to?”
“Dr. Zahn, Teresa, Ian, Melissa, and me.”
We found a fallen tree and went to work with a two-man saw. Then, using a splitting maul, we quartered or split the pieces and made a big pile. Everybody would help haul and stack it behind the house. It was a labor-intensive evolution, but it needed doing. Two more trees took us the rest of the day.
Afterwards, we went to the stream to clean up. By the time we got back to the house, dinner was being served: canned ravioli and mostly stale wheat crisps in an institutional-sized box with generic black writing stamped on the off-white package. There was a lot of chatting going on with the three newest arrivals coming right on top of my return. Fortunately, I didn’t have to do much talking. Mostly, I just nodded and smiled.
Thalia spent the entire meal sitting in my lap. Well, on the right side anyways. Emily plopped down on the left. It earned smiles from both Melissa and Teresa. I was so exhausted that I think I actually nodded off once or twice.
Halfway through the meal, Aaron came down from the tower and Sanchez took his spot. I guess Saunders and his
men were already integrated into our routine. Jillian excused herself and went out to relieve Ian. I’d been told that a small tower had been constructed and concealed by branches at the head of the road that entered the campground. A small light was rigged, and if flashed, could be seen by the tower on top of the house. This smaller tower was only manned at night. Yep, they’d done just fine in moving forward in my absence. I found that all to be strangely comforting.
After dinner, I sat as long as I could, but eventually I hugged the girls and excused myself. My first day back had been too much. Just as the place had moved ahead in my absence, it instantly swept me up upon arrival. I hadn’t even been able to really have some time with Melissa. I wanted to talk to Teresa some more about the baby thing…and Jamie too for that matter. I needed a little time with Thalia and Emily. Hell, I needed a little time to clear my own head.
***
“Steve!” I sat up looking around completely disoriented. Being woke up from a dead sleep while it is still pitch-dark really sucked.
“Steve!” the voice hissed again.
I turned my head and tried desperately to make out anything in the blackness. The slightest hint of moonlight coming in from the front brought my eyes to the doorway that opened to the visitor’s center and main entry room. I felt for Melissa who I expected to find beside me and was hit by another adrenaline bolt to the gut and bladder when I felt nothing but rumpled sleeping bag. I got up and felt my way through the room; my toes acting like unwilling curb feelers. I probably cursed a dozen times before I made it to the figure—correction, figures—waiting for me in the doorway.
“We’ve got a problem,” Curtis’ voice rose to just above a whisper.
“Where’s Melissa?” Trouble was not something I wanted to hear about when the woman I might very well be in love with was not beside me in bed when I woke up.
“Right here, Steve,” her voice shaved about twenty beats a minute from my heart rate. I felt her hand on my arm.