Fall of Houston Series | Book 2 | No Other Choice

by Payne, T. L.

  Gus stopped, and Will nearly ran into him. He looked past Gus to see the empty prescription medicine shelves. There was nothing left. What hadn’t been taken was floating in the water. Will left his basket on the prescription counter and rushed past Gus. He picked up the plastic pill bottles trying to find antibiotics, but all the labels had gotten wet and were unreadable.

  Will cursed and threw a bottle across the store. How were they going to locate the meds Isabella needed? He’d hoped to at least find enough to treat her fever.

  “How about a triple antibiotic?” Gus asked, holding up a tube of a topical cream.

  “I don’t know. If Isabella’s burns are already infected, will that do any good now?” Will asked.

  “It can’t hurt,” Gus said. “I’m taking it anyway. We’ll likely need it at some point, I’m sure.”

  “I wish we could find clean gauze. She needs to keep the wound clean and wrapped,” Will said.

  Will pushed aside a floating dog toy and grabbed a large pill bottle. He twisted the lid and looked inside, hoping the pills themselves might have their name on them. They didn’t.

  “Here,” Gus shouted. “This says it’s for burn care.”

  Will grabbed it from him and read the factory-applied label. “Silver sulfadiazine antimicrobial wound gel. Use in the prevention and treatment of burns and wound infections.”

  “I had a vet prescribe that for my dog once. Buster decided to jump the fence and follow our car all the way to the mall. He was sitting by the car when we came out but his paws were burned to a crisp. They treated him with the same thing,” Gus said.

  “What she really needs is a doctor,” Will said.

  Guilt crept in. He should have taken her straight to the hospital instead of detouring to go get Kim’s car. If they’d gone directly to get Isabella medical treatment, they would have avoided all the ugliness that came after. They might even be sitting at a Red Cross shelter right now instead of combing through a looted-out pharmacy for the lifesaving medication they needed.

  “Let’s grab as many of these bottles as we can. Who knows, we may find a doctor or nurse around nearby that would know what’s inside. Someone might need their cholesterol-lowering drugs or thyroid medication,” Gus said.

  “Good idea. I’m going to look for trash bags,” Will said, thinking that all the doctors and nurses would likely be at the hospitals. They would have been at work, preparing to receive casualties from the destructive storm. Taking Isabella there might still be an option. They’d have generators. FEMA usually brought in large ones after hurricanes to run things until the power company could get the electricity back up.

  “Where is the nearest hospital?” Will asked.

  Gus looked skyward, thinking. “There’s one in the Third Ward, and there’s one in Pasadena.”

  “Pasadena is at least ten miles away. I can’t imagine us doing that on foot. What about the one in the Third Ward?”

  “That’s ten miles as well.”

  Will cursed under his breath. The risk of being exposed to toxins in the water was worse than just handling her burns at home. Will continued stuffing pill bottles into trash bags.

  “That’s too far to go on foot in this shit,” Will said.

  “I agree.”

  “Well, I think I’ve got all I can carry. Let’s get back and see if we can figure out what to do with it all. Hopefully, we can find someone who can tell us which bottle contains the antibiotic Isabella needs,” Will said, also hoping one of the bottles would contain sleep-aids to help him get some rest. He was beat.

  Seven

  Isabella

  Day Six

  Isabella reclined on the sofa with her arm propped on pillows. Cayden had wet a towel and placed it on her forehead. He was a good kid. Will was lucky. All the teens she knew were so self-absorbed they’d be useless in situations like these.

  Cayden sat on a stool at the small kitchen island with the book they had found for him in his hands. He seemed small for his age, but what did she know about kids?

  Her mother and father had been on at her to settle down and give them grandchildren. At thirty-two, most of her friends already had two or more. Isabella had come close to getting married a few times but she had rotten taste in men. Kevin was a perfect example. Selfish, lazy, jealous, and misogynistic. The overflowing trash can reminded her of their argument the night before. Kevin had opened several cans of food and was feeding his face even after they’d all agreed that they should ration.

  The argument had quickly turned personal—as usual with him. He’d called her names—tried his best to make her feel small and stupid. This time it hadn’t worked. Not after all she’d been through since the lights went out. The worst part was his attack on Will. He’d accused her of sleeping with him and claimed she was only on his case because of her new boyfriend. That had always been his way of gaslighting her. She prayed that Will and Cayden hadn’t heard anything he’d said.

  Their fight should have made her decision about whether to go with Will and Cayden easier, but it hadn’t. She was finished with Kevin; that wasn’t the issue but there were so many other things to consider. Mostly, it was the fear of the unknown. She’d been out there. She’d seen how ugly the world had become already. Isabella wasn’t sure how much more brutality and desperation she could handle. What bothered her most was, she was afraid she’d be the one that messed up and caused Will, or God forbid, Cayden to get killed. She knew that Will would depend on her to help keep Cayden safe. He’d trusted her with his son’s life back at the law office. She’d never forget him pleading with her to take care of his son if he didn’t come back. What if something had happened to Will? How in the hell would she have protected Cayden?

  On the other hand, life at Will’s sister’s sounded so much better than the one she faced here in her apartment. Isabella tried to imagine life without modern technology. How could one live long term scavenging from empty apartments and grocery stores? How long before they were looted out. Then what? She didn’t have a clue about how to provide her own food. She couldn’t hunt and there was no way she could rely on Kevin or any of their neighbors for her survival. Not really.

  Did she have any choice? What was she really afraid of? She watched Cayden as he continued to read. She liked the kid. She couldn’t bear the thought of something happening to him. Could she do it—for him? Could she leave her home and go back out there to help Will keep him safe? He needed an extra person to watch their backs. She was grateful that her dad had been a gun guy and had taught her to shoot at an early age. She’d never imagined how important the skill would become.

  Isabella sighed, glad she had a little more time to decide. But, when the floodwater went away, she’d have to be prepared with an answer. She just prayed she would do the right thing.

  “Do you like the book?” Isabella asked.

  “Yeah. It’s really good,” Cayden said, bookmarking his page. “I know you picked it out.”

  “No. Your dad did. I found Harry Potter, but your dad picked Ready Player One for you. He said you used to read a lot with your mom.”

  Cayden’s eyes fell to the book. “Yeah. She liked for me to read to her in the car when we took long trips.”

  Isabella’s heart broke for him. She’d never lost anyone she’d cared about and even though her mother drove her crazy at times, Isabella couldn’t imagine ever losing her.

  “Your dad really loves you. I know it’s tough being a teen. I hated my parents at your age and—”

  “I don’t hate him,” Cayden interrupted. “I don’t. I just…”

  “You don’t know what to say?” Isabella asked, finishing his sentence.

  Cayden nodded.

  “You two need each other. He needs you, Cayden,” Isabella said. It was so sad to watch Cayden and his dad tiptoeing around each other instead of talking things out. They were both hurting. There had to be a way to get them to open up to one another. Will was too closed off. If it were going to happen, Cayde
n would need to initiate it.

  A knock on the door startled her. Cayden stood and Isabella held up a hand to stop him from opening the door.

  “Who is it?” she called.

  “Lloyd. I’m looking for Kevin.”

  It surprised her that the bandleader had knocked on the door rather than use the key Kevin had given him. She rose and walked to the door, peering through the peephole. Lloyd was alone.

  “He’s not here,” Isabella called through the door. “I thought he was with the band.”

  “We haven’t seen him since last night. We need him. We want to practice our new song.”

  “He left after our fight. I assumed he’d followed you guys downstairs,” Isabella said, opening the door a few inches.

  “We went to a party at the apartments across the parking lot. We haven’t seen him,” Lloyd said through the crack.

  “I don’t know where he is then.”

  “Well, if you see him, will you tell him we’re looking for him?”

  “Yeah, but I doubt I’ll see him.”

  “He didn’t mean all that, you know. He just says shit when he’s mad,” Lloyd said.

  Isabella’s face flushed. It hadn’t been the first time that the band had witnessed them fighting. Kevin seemed even more of a jerk when they were around, like he was trying to prove his dominance or something.

  “Don’t defend him.” Isabella lowered her voice. “I’m done putting up with his drinking and cheating on me.”

  Lloyd was quiet for a moment. “Does that mean you’ll give me a shot now?” He laughed.

  “You drink even more than Kevin and I’ve seen you with the ladies.”

  “If you change your mind, I’m just downstairs.”

  Isabella waved her hand in the air. “If you leave the building, watch out for that gator.”

  “I’m not worried about that. I’ve been around gators all my life. Stuart is going to catch him and make gumbo for everyone,” Lloyd said.

  Isabella wrinkled her nose. She’d heard that alligator meat tasted good, but she wasn’t about to eat anything that had been swimming around in that nasty water.

  As Lloyd walked away, Isabella said, “When you see Kevin, will you tell him to come get his clothes.”

  The bandleader gave a thumbs up, and Isabella closed the door.

  “I’m sorry you and your boyfriend broke up,” Cayden said.

  “I’m not,” Isabella said, returning to her position on the sofa. She added another pillow to prop up her arm. It was throbbing now and she was afraid to look. The chills and fever told her that it was infected as Will suspected. It was a wonder that they weren’t all sick after wading through the bacteria-laden water. Isabella pulled the fluffy blanket she kept on the back of the sofa over her and tried to sleep, but her mind wouldn’t shut off. Images of all the dead people she’d seen in the last few days played on a loop in her mind. Gunshots rang out, and Isabella hit the floor.

  “Cayden, get down!”

  “Who’s shooting? Is that my dad?” Cayden asked, crawling toward the open window.

  “No, Cayden. Stay away from the windows and doors. We have to stay low. Bullets can easily penetrate these thin walls.”

  The gunfire continued. It sounded as if it were moving closer. Isabella wasn’t sure what to do. She needed to protect Cayden. He was her responsibility. She crawled to the kitchen and reached onto the counter to retrieve her pistol. There wasn’t anything she could do about the fighting outside without leaving Cayden alone. But if the battle came to them, she needed to be ready to defend them.

  “We need to get to the bedroom and see if your dad left any ammo,” Isabella said. Crawling with her injured arm down the short hall to the guest room was so painful she became light-headed. Sweat poured off her. Hold on! Just hold on.

  “It’s in the nightstand,” Cayden said.

  Isabella moved along the bed and pulled open the drawer. “There’s only one 9mm magazine,” she said, stuffing it into the back pocket of her jeans. She edged close to the window and peeked into the parking lot below. A young man was running between buildings on the opposite side, followed shortly by two other men. The first man turned and fired.

  “That’s Rudy,” Isabella said, jumping to her feet.

  “Who’s that?”

  Isabella stared at Cayden, unsure if she should tell him that Rudy had left with his dad and Gus.

  “My neighbor,” she said, opting to leave that information out for now. Isabella and Cayden moved back into the hall. “Stay here,” she said. “I need to make sure there aren’t people with guns coming up here.”

  “No. You said we should stay low.”

  “I’ll only be a minute. One quick peek and I’ll be right back.” She gave his shoulder a little squeeze and headed for the door in a low crouch, her chest pounding, fearing what she might find on the other side of the door. If something happened to Will, it would crush Cayden.

  Standing to the side of the door, Isabella turned the knob and eased it open. She peered through the crack but saw nothing but the empty landing. Relieved to not find a lifeless Will sprawled out on the stairs, Isabella puffed out a breath of air and reached to slide the chain across the door. She slowly opened the door and stepped outside.

  “So much for the safety of a gated community,” a familiar female voice said.

  Isabella glanced to her right. Her neighbor stood in her doorway, a blunt in one hand and a bottle of beer in another. Isabella wasn’t a bit surprised. Most of the building’s residents had continued to party even after learning that there had been an attack on the country and that the lights weren’t coming back on anytime soon.

  “Did you see Will and Gus down there?” Isabella asked.

  “No, just Rudy. He must have pissed off his dealer,” the bikini-clad woman said.

  Isabella glanced back inside her apartment. She needed to find out what had happened to Will. He could be out there, injured or…

  “I’m sorry about Kevin,” the woman said.

  Isabella shook her head. “I’m not. It should have happened a long time ago.”

  As the young woman turned and closed her door, Isabella crept to the top of the stairs and scanned the green space between the buildings. She saw no one. She listened. The gunfire had stopped. She hoped Rudy had escaped and that Will and Gus were all right, but the not knowing was torture. She wanted to go check it out, but she couldn’t leave Cayden. All she could do was wait. She sucked at waiting.

  “Is it over?” Cayden called from the doorway.

  She pivoted to face him and tried with all her might not to let the fear show.

  “I think so,” she said, waving for him to get back inside. “We should avoid going to the windows, though, just in case.”

  As Isabella closed and locked the door, she gave one last glance toward the stairs wishing she’d see Will finally ascending them. She didn’t know what she and Cayden would do without him, and she hoped to never find out.

  Eight

  Savanah

  Day Six

  Jason wasn’t a fan of Savanah’s plan to spy on their neighbors in the gated community of Spring Hill. If she hadn’t been convinced that they needed the information, she wouldn’t have considered leaving her children with the Bertrands. But she wanted to see exactly what they were up against.

  Trees lined the gully that ran behind all the properties between Savanah’s farm and the gated community. They could remain hidden in the brush until they had to cross the road that led to the subdivision’s south side. There, along the shorter side of the perimeter wall, they’d be able to see the front gate and be able to tell who was leaving and what they carried with them.

  All was going to plan until the Jacksons’ dog caught wind of them. At a different time, Savanah would have rolled on the ground laughing as Bruno yanked on Jason’s pants leg as he hung from a branch.

  “Bruno. Down!” Rod Jackson yelled as he approached. “What the hell?” he asked as Jason climbed down
from the tree.

  “What are you guys doing?”

  Rod was tall and stocky. Even dressed in pajamas and slippers, he still looked intimidating. His jet-black hair was longer than he usually kept it, and it looked like he hadn’t shaved since the lights went out.

  Jason glanced at Savanah. She debated lying to Rob and saying they were looking for one of her goats. They escaped her fence regularly and made their way to Rod’s garden, so it was a believable story. Instead, she decided to tell him the truth.

  “Why on earth would you do that, Savanah?” Rod asked.

  “They killed the Johnsons and attacked the Bertrands. I’ve got Mr. and Mrs. B at my house now. We need to know what we’re up against. We have to find a way to stop them from picking us off one by one.”

  Rod shook his head. “It’s a crazy idea.”

  “That’s what I said,” Jason agreed.

  “If we know how many of them there are,” Savanah said, “we can form a plan to stop them,”

  “I can tell you how many. A whole neighborhood full. There’s like thirty or forty houses back there.”

  She hadn’t seen it since they started construction and hadn’t been happy that a developer had purchased the property. She disliked all the trucks tearing up their road and the increased traffic with people speeding by her farm. But, other than the drunk teens plowing through her fence trying to do donuts in her field, she’d not had any trouble with anyone from the new community.

  “I need to see it for myself,” Savanah said.

  “Well, shit. Let me grab my rifle, and I’ll walk over there with you,” Rod said.

  At least ten minutes passed and Savanah thought Rod had changed his mind. She was just about to leave without him when he appeared at his back door. He was loaded down as if he were going into combat. Gone were his PJs and slippers. He had changed into tactical pants and a T-shirt topped with body armor, helmet, leg holster, and enough ammunition in pouches on a tactical vest to take on a whole army.