"You know what's weird? There was a couple black kids with his crowd. They didn't seem to care at all. They stared at him just like the others did," Erik observed
Ted nodded. "I saw that too. I guess this Brotherhood isn't for everyone, huh?"
"What I don't get is why the Brotherhood hasn't come in here and wiped everyone out. If the Jocks don't have many guns and these guys keep theirs locked up—”
"Mostly it's because they have other things to worry about," said Roger from the other side of the room.
Erik spun as Ted cursed. "Dammit! Stop doing that!" Erik hissed. He caught Ted's look: Did he see the weapons being disassembled?
"Sorry," Roger said, smiling.
Erik took his hand off his knife, hoping to send the message to Ted that he thought Roger was harmless.
Ted cleared his throat. "Where'd you learn how to do that?"
"What? Walk around without being heard? Trust me. If you get captured by the Jocks and manage to escape, you'll figure out real quick how to walk around all ninja-like."
Erik straightened his shirt. "So what is it that the Brotherhood—”
"We prefer to call them Rebels," interrupted Roger.
"What is it the Rebels really want? What’s their goal?" asked Erik, ignoring the interruption. He remembered what the Brotherhood had done to Colonial Gardens. The Freehold.
Rebels was too dignified a label for them. Animals was more like it. They destroyed everything in their path, took what they wanted, and cared only for themselves. They were almost as bad as the Russians in his mind.
"The Klan for one," shrugged Roger. "They got a pretty big presence in Elkton, just across the border. Nobody likes to talk about it around here and the administration never said a word, but every year the KKK used to have marches down Main Street." He shrugged again.
"Most people just kinda laughed and thought they were a bunch a harmless rednecks getting drunk in the woods. But once everything went crazy, especially after the Rebels started making their presence known…the Klan showed up."
"Good Lord, what is this South Carolina in the 1950s?" asked Ted shaking his head. "This town is crazy."
"About that, yeah. They were pretty vicious. We heard gunfire and saw lots of burning crosses in the beginning…but once the Rebels got a hold of some guns, they began fighting back."
Erik looked at Ted. He gave them the guns to fight back. The Professor's an arms dealer running out of stock—that's why he's nervous about the Rebels and the Jocks.
Roger continued. "That was about the time one of them came and talked to the Professor and convinced him a truce would be in the best interests of everyone. For the most part, they keep the Jocks in line, too. Then all of a sudden we get a wave of refugees passing through from Philly and the Rebels just up and vanish."
"Why?" asked Erik. "That doesn't make much sense—it sounded like they had a pretty good thing going…"
Roger nodded. "That's what I thought, too." He shrugged. "I've heard a disease got to them or something. Others say they joined the refugees, or the army came and got them in the middle of the night. Nobody really knows. But like, the Klan has all but disappeared, too. To be honest, we haven't seen anyone but Jocks in the past few days. Maybe a week. I know I haven't, but I've been hiding in bushes and shit."
Ted nodded. "That's why the Professor’s all gung ho about getting your security up to snuff. He thinks the truce is about ready to collapse."
Roger shrugged. "I don't know, man. I just work here."
Ted and Erik shared a look. "Well, let's get this shit-show on the road." Ted hefted the duffel bag. "I take it you're the one leading me to the armory?"
"Yep. Follow me," he said. His flip-flops slapped his heels as he headed out the door.
"I'll see you later," Ted called. “Hi Lucy,” he added as he passed the girl on her way in.
Lucy stepped through the door, both hands clutching her canvas satchel and glanced around as if looking for someone. She found Erik and almost tripped on her own feet. "Oh, uh…hi…"
Erik stuck out his hand. "Erik Larsson. I don't think we were properly introduced."
Lucy shook it, her hand delicate and but clammy. "Lucy. Shelton. Lucy Shelton." She blushed. "Nice to meet you. I like your wife—I mean she's nice," the girl said quickly, her face even redder.
Erik glanced at the stairs and cleared his throat, trying not to smile. "Yeah, I like her, too. So how is she?"
Lucy blinked. Then she shook her head. "Uh...oh—Lindsay," she said, tucking a lock of jet-black hair over a pink ear. "Right," she said with a nervous laugh. "Yeah—the fever's getting a little worse. I didn't have any of the fresh stuff on me, just what I found in the stores. I think pretty much most of the Tylenol we have is expired. We're going to need to make a supply run."
Erik looked up the stairs. I can't leave Brin.
"I talked it over with Brin," Lucy said softly. "She's very pretty, by the way."
Erik smiled sheepishly. "Thanks. She's…uh, okay with this?"
Brin came down the stairs and gave him a meaningful look. "They'll be fine, Erik. I'll stay here with the kids."
Erik took a subconscious step back from Lucy. He felt naked without the comforting weight of his pistol or rifle. I can't leave her. I can't leave the kids. Ted will skin me alive. He glanced at Lucy as she moved over to chat with Brin.
I really don't want to be out alone with her, either. God, things are tough enough with Brin as it is…but we need the medicine. And it would be good to know where the hell they keep everything. At least I'll have some operational knowledge of what's going on here.
"Go," Brin said, snapping Erik back to reality. "I'll be fine."
Erik nodded. He ignored the smile on Lucy's face. "You're sure?" Come on, please say no. I'll go with the kids, you go with her.
Brin smiled, and it melted Erik's heart. It was the first time she'd smiled in what seemed like forever. Her eyes flicked to Lucy, and she took a step back toward the stairs. "I can still take your ass in a fight. I'll be okay—you might need her to help you out."
Erik swallowed. "I'll be back as soon as I can. " He leaned in to kiss her out of habit. She immediately jerked back, like he'd slapped her.
"I–I'm sorry–" he said, hands up to assure her he didn't mean anything.
Brin shook her head. "Don't worry about it," she said with a smile that didn't reach her eyes. She glanced at Lucy, then turned and stumbled up the stairs.
"That was weird…" Lucy said, her arms folded across her chest. "You guys okay?"
Erik turned, feeling the heat rise in his own cheeks. He cleared his throat and adjusted his sweatshirt. "It's fine. Let's get going."
"Okay," Lucy said as she stepped lightly over to the door. "You might want to grab a bottle of water. It's kind of a hike."
Chapter 48
The Farm
ERIK WIPED THE SWEAT from his brow as he stepped into the Ag Sciences building southwest of campus. The survivors had taken control of the university farm after the collapse and he had to admit, they'd done well for themselves. The main buildings sat secluded in a forest of oaks, colorful maples, and pines.
He looked back the way they'd come. The winding road disappeared through a dense canopy of bright reds, oranges, and yellows. From South College, the farm was completely hidden.
No wonder we didn't see it when we came up from the interstate.
He unfolded himself from the mountain bike Lucy acquired for him back on campus an hour ago. They'd walked into a chemical engineering building that had become a storage warehouse. Inside, they found a few student-survivor clerks. They found rooms upon rooms packed with unused chemistry equipment, bicycles, scooters, mopeds—even a SmartCar.
Lucy had led him south on a bike of her own and they'd pedaled steadily, bypassing the major intersections in favor of side roads.
"Anyone out and about is a target this far from campus," she'd explained over her shoulder as they sped south.
Erik
struggled to keep up—he hadn't ridden a bike in years and grunted a non-committal response.
"The couriers try to stick to the shadows, you know? We have to bring food and water and medicine north every day or so…"
"Why don't you just use cars?" Erik asked, gliding through a deserted intersection. He listened to his bike click-click-click in idle as they continued south. The noise carried a long ways. He kept his head moving, looking for threats.
"They're too loud—besides, the Professor wants to keep all the fuel in reserve…"
"Reserve for what?"
"Oh. Uh, for the generators at the farm and for the well pumps, that sort of thing. I don't really know," she said, weaving around some trash in the road. "I just do what I'm told, you know?"
Erik had wondered at the wisdom of making multiple trips north with food and supplies—commodities that were easily worth killing for in the outside world. As he stood at the entrance to the main Ag Science building, he shook his head. The Professor and his crew lived on the main campus while all their resources were here. Long term, that was a recipe for disaster.
"Wow," he said, staring at the stocked shelves, full-to-bursting with canned goods and pickled vegetables.
Lucy smiled and tucked that stray lock of black hair over her ear again. "Yeah, pretty cool, huh? This is just the tip of the iceberg. We're trying to dig a system of tunnels out behind the fields for the rest. Like cold storage." She looked away for a moment, almost as if someone had tapped her on the shoulder. "Oh. Well, I mean—that's what I've heard."
Erik wiped the sweat from his face to hide his grin. These people wouldn't know what OpSec is if it bit them in the ass. How are you guys still alive?
"So how long have you and Brin been married?" Lucy asked suddenly. Her face turned beet red and her hands flew to her face. "Omigod I asked that out loud, didn't I?"
Erik blinked, unsure how to react. "Uh…yeah."
She closed her eyes. "I am so sorry. I…sometimes when I get nervous I say what I'm thinking or I talk way too fast and I just end up making things worse, because I never think anyone will take me seriously because I'm—"
Erik laughed. "It's okay. Really."
She blushed again and covered her face in her hands. "I am so embarrassed."
How do I handle this? He reached out and awkwardly to pat her arm then stopped. "It's okay. Really. Lucy, you don't have to be upset." He laughed again. "Just give me a few minutes, I'm sure I'll do something that will have you laughing."
She sniffled and wiped at her eyes. "I'm sorry. It's none of my business, I just…Brin—your wife," she rolled her eyes. "Of course she's your wife, you know that…I mean, she seems so nice and cheerful, and then whenever I mention you or she hears or sees you, she gets all…"
Erik sighed. "Yeah."
"I was just—no. I'm sorry, I can tell by the look on your face you don't want to talk about this. This is stupid." She took a deep breath and smoothed her shirt. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be," Erik said, trying to be nice. "You were worried, and you spoke up. To be honest, I don't know what's wrong. We haven't been speaking much lately. Not since we…" his voice trailed off as he remembered the way Brin looked when she'd gunned down Stepanovich during their prison camp escape. It was the last time things had been anywhere near normal between them.
"It's none of my business. I'm sorry," Lucy said softly. She stepped back quickly when he looked at her. Clearing her throat, she gestured down the hall over her shoulder. “Anyway, the med lab is this way. We should, uh, we should get going."
Erik followed her in silence for a few moments. A change of subject was on order to clear the weirdness in the air between them. He had no feelings for her whatsoever, but it still felt like he was on a first date.
"You have a lab down here?" he asked, staring at the overhead lights. Holes had been cut in the ceiling and sonotubes installed, leading all the way to the roof. The lobby and most of the main hallways were flooded with bright, natural—energy-free—sunlight.
"How tall are those tubes?"
"Oh, those?" asked Lucy, looking up. "They go up through to the roof. We had to cut holes through the floors above us."
Erik followed her into a side room with a hand-painted red cross on the door and a sign that read "Medical Laboratory: Authorized personal only". His amusement over the misspelled signage ended with an open-mouthed gasp as he stepped into another well-lit room.
Electric instruments filled the lab. Lights, monitors, computers—computers!—hummed all over the room. Erik felt like he'd just walked into a dream. He turned around, ignoring the surprised looks from the men and women in white lab coats as they carried test tubes and trays of amber goo to and fro.
"What is this place?"
"This is where we make miracles," said a voice behind him. "Lucy, who is this?"
Erik turned to stare into the face of a man who's appearance screamed 'scientist'. From his rumpled lab coat, to his thick glasses and unkempt hair, and slight frame—Erik would have pegged him for someone who leaned over microscopes all day from a mile away.
"Dr. Norris, this is Erik," Lucy said, blushing.
The older man looked at Lucy for a long moment before turning his brown eyes on Erik. "You have a last name? Or do you just look like a Viking?"
"Larsson," Erik said, extending a hand. "Erik Larsson."
The scientist grunted, but took Erik's hand. The grip was strong but brief. "Don Norris. I'm the madman in charge of this facility. What can I do for you, Mr. Larsson?"
"Erik and his group have agreed to help us," announced Lucy before Erik could open his mouth. "I brought him here to pick up some antibiotics."
Norris stared at her. "Does Oscar know he's here?"
“Yes, sir."
“Oscar?” asked Erik.
“The Professor,” offered Lucy.
Norris frowned. “I refuse to call him by his title like it’s an actual title. I’m a professor too, but you don’t see me demanding people call me that.”
"I'm supposed to be helping you folks beef up your security," offered Erik. "As payment, the Profes—uh, he agreed to give us some medicine for my friend's daughter. She's got an infection."
Norris rubbed his upper lip, the pencil-thin finger making a scratchy noise. "How bad?"
Erik shrugged. "Bad enough—she's got a pretty good fever. Had it now for about 2 days."
"She's pre-septic," said Lucy, jumping into the conversation like a 5-year-old seeking attention. "I examined her myself."
Norris sighed. "Well, you'd better go take it up with Doc. She'll probably want to see the patient, too. In the meantime, let's get you some meds."
Erik followed the research scientist over to a massive refrigeration unit built into the side of the building. He unlatched the pad-lock and swung open the seven-foot door. Cool air poured out—it felt wondrous on Erik's skin.
Norris handed a few little vials to Erik. "Here you go. That's enough for a week."
"A week?" asked Erik as he took possession of the antibiotics.
"That’s what we've determined is the median time it takes the medicine to be fully effective for most simple infections." He stepped out of the giant fridge and shut the door like it was a bank fault—slow and careful.
"Do I need to keep it refrigerated?"
"No—we just keep it in there to prolong the shelf-life. It'll keep just fine for about a month at room temperature."
Erik slipped the vials in his pack. "Thank you very much, I—I don't know what we'd have done without this."
"You'd be digging a grave." Norris pushed his glasses up his wide nose. "It's what usually happens when someone gets an infection these days. This stuff works—but not for everyone and not all the time, mind you. This isn't amoxicillin."
Erik paused with that sobering thought. Even medicine wasn't a guarantee in the post-collapse world.
"So, you're some sort of security consultant, huh?" asked Norris, leading Erik toward the lab entrance.
"Got any pointers?"
Erik stopped at the doorway, aware he was being tested. "For starters, you've got to stop keeping so much food in the lobby. Anyone can see in—the windows aren't tinted."
"We ran out of space."
"If you don't cover those windows or move that stuff, you'll run out of food when someone breaks in and takes it all. There's enough food in there to feed a few families for a long time."
Norris nodded. "I've raised the same point before. Anything else?"
Erik pressed forward. "Secondly, you shouldn't let anyone in here—I mean anyone—who doesn't work here. Lucy, too."
Norris arched an eyebrow. "Why? We know her—"
"But you didn’t know me. What if I was armed?"
"Are you?"
Erik frowned. "No. But no one bothered to check—there's no security presence here at all. I could have had a pistol in this backpack and taken the whole place by myself. What you guys have here is more precious than all the gold and jewels in the world, Dr. Norris. You've got to protect it at all costs."
The scientist flashed a grin that disappeared as fast as it came. "You sound like me six months ago. You know why I'm not worried?"
Erik glanced at Lucy. "No."
"Because I'm one of maybe three people within a hundred miles—maybe a thousand miles—that has the knowledge, experience and equipment necessary to produce life-saving medication. You think anyone's going to mess with me? Next time they get a scratch who do they turn to?" Norris smiled. "Me."
“That’s exactly what the Pro—uh…Oscar said.” He pulled his hand up and pointed his finger in the shape of a gun at the scientists’ head. “And if this was a real gun, you’d work for me or you’d die.”
Norris snorted, but Erik saw the fear in his eyes. “Then if you really needed me, you’d be dead too.”
“We’re all going to die,” said Erik, lowering his arm. “Trust me—you don’t want to let someone who’s desperate get in here with a gun. I’ve seen stuff out there…things you can’t unsee.”
Norris led him out of the lab in silence, but made a show of securing the door behind him. He called out for assistance and a few dirt-stained students came running. Norris told them to go and fetch some weed-cloth to cover up the front windows of the lobby and they took off at a run.
Dux Bellorum (Future History of America Book 3) Page 30