The Renegade

by Amy Dunne

  *

  The vehicle finally stopped and the engine turned off. Alex tensed, waiting for something to happen.

  “Just hold on a minute, miss. I’ll check what David wants to do with you,” Scott said.

  She sensed him move; a moment later the door slammed. The two men from the front also got out. There was no way she was going to just sit and wait for David to tell her where to go. She needed to check on Murphy, make sure he was alive. Her hands gripped the material of the bag and tore it off. The light from inside the compartment made her wince. She fumbled with the handle and finally managed to open the door. Her surroundings momentarily took precedence.

  She was in an open-air car park filled with army vehicles of different sizes, including two large petrol tankers. High chain-linked fences topped with vicious-looking barbed wire cordoned off the expanse. Beyond the first fences ran another set, and even a third beyond that. Clearly they wanted to keep people out, but Alex shivered; she felt incarcerated rather than protected.

  “What’s she doing here?” David said, pointing at her.

  “Where’s Murphy?” she asked, running toward the group of men. “Please let me go with him.”

  Four men were holding a makeshift stretcher made from a large splintered piece of wood. Before Alex could get to Murphy, David spoke. “Take him to the medical centre. See what Evelyn can do.” He flicked a hand in Alex’s direction. “She can accompany him. I want two men on guard outside the door. Keep armed and vigilant.” He turned toward Alex. “If you do anything untoward, they have my permission to shoot you first and ask questions later.”

  Alex ignored him and rushed to Murphy’s side. She gasped and held his hand, as cold as marble. As the men started walking, Alex kept pace beside them. She was too absorbed in Murphy to take notice of the surroundings.

  “Joe. Where’s Evelyn?” one of the men shouted.

  An elderly man rushed up to them, his expression concerned as his gaze flickered from Murphy to Alex. “I’ll go find her. You get him into the medical centre.” He rushed off in the opposite direction toward an impressive-looking building.

  Other people gathered around and silently watched as they passed. It felt strange seeing so many other survivors after months of being isolated. They all looked clean, well fed, and happy—under the circumstances. A few of them made the sign of the cross with their hands and bowed their heads as if in prayer. Perplexed, Alex turned her attention back to Murphy.

  The men slowed their pace as they reached a different building. A sign identified the building as the medical centre. Alex let go of Murphy’s hand and rushed to the heavy doors. She pulled with all her might but the doors remained locked. “Why can’t we get in?” she asked, looking each man down in turn. All except Phil looked away.

  “We’ve got to wait for Evelyn. She’s the doctor,” he said with a sneer.

  Before Alex could reply, a figure appeared from nowhere and rushed past her. A loud metallic click sounded before the figure threw open the doors. Alex spun around and glimpsed the back of a woman with a mass of red curls before she disappeared inside.

  “Move, then,” Phil said. “Unless you really want to finish him off?”

  Alex stepped aside and the men rushed Murphy inside. She followed behind, her legs weak. The lights overhead clinked as the bulbs flickered to life. The room wasn’t huge, but it had everything a medical room should have: two medical beds; a table holding a variety of shiny instruments; heavy, glass-fronted metal cabinets showcasing various boxes and bottles; a powerful ceiling-mounted light attached to what looked like a magnifying glass.

  “Lift him onto the bed with the light,” an authoritative voice said.

  The men did as they were told, although in Alex’s opinion they could have been a lot gentler. She finally saw the woman, but only the back of her. Long curly red hair was tied back into a bun. The woman stood about five feet two inches in height. She wore faded jeans and a short-sleeved T-shirt. Over the sound of splashing water, Alex glimpsed the woman’s pale freckly arms slathered in soap.

  A young boy ran over to the redhead and reached around her waist, drawing the blue plastic apron strings to the back and tying them. The woman turned the tap off with an elbow. She covered her hands and arms with a clear gel before slipping her hands into the blue pair of latex gloves.

  “You can all leave now,” the redhead said, turning around to face them.

  Alex drew in a breath; the woman was beautiful. Her eyebrows and eyelashes matched the red ringlets of hair. Freckles sprinkled over her pale skin. Vibrant blue eyes sparkled with sharp intelligence and met Alex’s gaze head-on. The connection was intense. Alex felt her legs buckle and her heart flutter simultaneously.

  “I said, get out,” the woman said, finally breaking eye contact. “You’re messing up my clean and sterilized room.”

  “David wants two of us to stay,” Phil said, folding his chunky arms.

  “I don’t care what David said. This is my domain. Get out. Now,” the woman said hotly.

  After a shuffling of feet and a clearing of throats, all the men except Phil left the building. The woman walked past him without giving him another glance. She bent over Murphy, her back to Alex again, and started doing something.

  “Jamie, wash your hands and get an apron and gloves on, pronto,” the woman said. The young boy didn’t hesitate in doing what he was told.

  “I’ll be outside,” Phil said, purposely shoulder-barging Alex. He added in a whisper, “And I’ve got a bullet with your name on it.”

  Alex watched him leave. She didn’t know what kind of place she’d been brought to, but she wasn’t keen on their welcoming committee. She turned around to check on Murphy and the redhead. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

  The woman looked over her shoulder, her expression grim. “Are you medically trained?”

  “No.”

  The woman winced. “Then I’m afraid not.”

  Alex shoved her hands into her pockets and shuffled her feet. She hated being so useless.

  “My name’s Evelyn,” the woman said with a weak smile. She nodded to the boy. “This is my son, Jamie. There’s a lot I probably ought to warn you about, but right now your friend takes priority. Sorry.”

  “I’m Alex. His name is Murphy. Can you help him?”

  The woman didn’t look back. “I’ll do everything I can. I’ve got to be honest—he’s not in good shape. Why don’t you wash up in the sink?”

  Alex nodded, even though Evelyn and Jamie weren’t looking at her. She walked over to the sink, rolled her sleeves up as far as they could go, and slathered her hands with the medical disinfectant that smelt of strong alcohol and stung the sore patches of her skin. She let out a little gasp of surprise as hot water poured from the tap. It had been so long since she’d been able to access hot water easily. Normally, it took time to source, ration, and then boil the water on the stove. It was always a time-consuming process.

  As the water turned pink and the temperature bordered on scalding her skin, she felt guilty for using so much of it. It took three applications of the disinfectant and some serious scrubbing to remove all traces of blood and mud. Her hands were bright red and tingly by the end, but cleaning them made her feel better. She dried them on a few sheets of green paper towel.

  Not knowing what to do, she moved a few steps closer and watched Evelyn and Jamie work together. The boy didn’t look shocked or upset. He was so small, his head barely reached the table. He had a plastic step stool that he moved around with his feet to raise him. He barely spoke, other than one-word answers, to confirm he’d heard Evelyn’s instructions, or to ask simple questions such as why and how. It didn’t seem right, having a child so close to the gore. His expression worried Alex. He didn’t look complacent, but also didn’t look horrified. His innocence seemed to be long gone. His brow burrowed in concentration and he nibbled his bottom lip as he took everything in.

  “Are you sure he should be in here? I mean, he
’s just a kid,” Alex said, trying to hide the disdain.

  “I’d never do anything to hurt or upset him. He’s my son. I love him more than life itself,” Evelyn said, turning to face her. A fierceness radiated off her as she looked into Alex’s eyes, her chin held high. “During the Red Death, before I found and adopted him, he saw unspeakable horrors, things no child should ever have to witness. This”—she gestured to Murphy with her stained gloves—“is important. There isn’t a time or place for childhood innocence anymore, especially not here,” she said bitterly. Anger coloured her cheeks. “I’m the only one who knows medicine and how to treat people. If something happens to me, everyone in this place would be helpless. I need to pass on what knowledge I can, and it needs to be the younger generations that learn, so that in years to come they stand a fighting chance. So, although you think this is harsh, unfair, and inappropriate, it’s also essential for our survival.” Tears glistened in her eyes, threatening to spill at the slightest provocation. “It’s the only way I can keep him safe,” she said in hoarse whisper, “and that’s all that matters.”

  Alex nodded, struggling to swallow over the lump in her throat. She felt rocked to her core. Everything Evelyn said made sense. Once again, she was reminded that the world had irreparably changed. “Of course. I’m sorry.”

  Evelyn held their eye contact for a few seconds longer. A host of emotions flickered across her face too quickly for Alex to decipher.

  “Put on an apron and a pair of gloves. I’ll need your help to move him. And you can tell me what happened to you both.” She turned back to Murphy and asked Jamie to use a pair of scissors. Together they cut through the layers of clothing, revealing the wound.

  Alex didn’t hesitate to do as Evelyn asked. It felt good to do something productive, something that might help save his life.

  “Help me lift him onto his side,” Evelyn said.

  Alex purposely refused to look at Murphy’s face. She gripped his arm and leg, and together with Evelyn, rolled him.

  “Can you hold him in place?”

  “Yeah,” Alex said, watching as Evelyn cut through the remaining material and discarded it. She examined the exit wound but Alex couldn’t see it from where she stood.

  “It passed through.”

  “Is that good?” Alex asked.

  “I’m not sure yet. There’s still the possibility of serious internal damage. Plus, with all of the dirt, there’s a high risk of infection. But I think the biggest risk by far is his loss of blood. He desperately needs a transfusion. Do you know what type he is?”

  “No.”

  “Is there anything in his belongings that would say?”

  “I don’t think so. Shit,” Alex said, shooting an apologetic look at Jamie. “Sorry.” For the first time, Jamie looked genuinely appalled. If it wasn’t such a horrendous situation, she might have found the irony funny. “Is there no way to test his blood type?”

  “This isn’t that kind of facility, plus we don’t have the equipment, I don’t have the expertise, and there’s not enough time. I’m going to try and stanch the bleeding. But without a blood transfusion, he’s not going to make it.” Evelyn blew out a frustrated breath, making a wispy curl dance above her forehead. “I don’t see any other option than to try a blood transfusion. If it’s the wrong type, he’ll die. But if we don’t try, he’s definitely going to die.”

  “What’s the most common type?” Alex asked, close to begging.

  Evelyn met her gaze. “O positive.”

  “So he’s probably that, then?”

  Evelyn shook her head. “Not necessarily. It’s not that simple. That’s the most common type, but it’s still less than forty per cent of the population. He could just as easily be A, AB, or B negative like me.”

  “I’m O negative,” Alex said, gritting her teeth for a second while she shifted position to relieve the burning in her shoulders. “I know it’s not the positive type, but surely being type O is better—”

  “Are you certain that you’re O negative?” Evelyn asked. “This is really important.”

  “Yeah,” Alex said, taken aback. “Why?”

  “You’re the best shot he’s got. O negative is the type that’s used universally as a red cell donor match.”

  “What do we do?” Alex asked.

  “Keep him on his side. I’ll pack both wounds and then we’ll get you set up. I can’t promise you this will work.”

  Alex nodded. “We’ve got to try.” She tried to ignore the aching exhaustion settling into her arms, shoulders, and back. “I owe him that much.”

  “It’s going to take me a few minutes to find everything and get set up. I know we’ve got some of the equipment, but I think we’re going to have to hand-pump the blood. But we’ll do this together.”

  Alex didn’t trust herself to speak. She felt an unmistakable connection with Evelyn forged with unconditional trust. And trust wasn’t something that came easily in this new world.

  *

  The blood continued to fill the plastic bag, but Alex couldn’t bring herself to watch any more of the ruby droplets. It made her queasy. Fortunately, the bag was nearly full.

  Evelyn continued to work on Murphy while Jamie used the hand pump to take Alex’s blood. Evelyn explained everything she did but Alex wasn’t sure if this was for her benefit or Jamie’s.

  Evelyn gave Murphy painkillers and antibiotics before cleaning and investigating his wounds. She showed a sixth sense about Alex’s queasiness, distracting her by asking questions. It took a while, but Alex finally opened up as to how her journey had started. The words started to flow, and the more she spoke, the easier it became. It was only when she mentioned rescuing Paddy that she began to worry about his safety. How could she have forgotten about him? Guilt made her sick to her stomach. She’d abandoned him, and God only knew what was happening to him now.

  “Scott’s a good lad. He’ll look after him. You don’t need to worry,” Evelyn said calmly.

  “How big is he?” Jamie asked, perking up with childish delight.

  “He’s still quite small, but he’s growing every day.”

  “What does he like to do?” Jamie asked, so rapt with attention he forgot to use the pump. Alex nodded to the pump and he quickly began again, his cheeks blazed with colour. He looked up, his expression apologetic and beseeching.

  Alex smiled and returned her gaze to Evelyn’s back. “He loves playing, although he hasn’t mastered the rules of fetch yet. He likes to eat, sleep, and he can’t get enough belly rubs to satisfy him.”

  “Does he do tricks?” Jamie asked.

  Alex shook her head. “We just haven’t had the time to teach him any.” She felt bad. They should have taken time. But in hindsight, there were many things she wished they’d done differently.

  “Can I meet him? Please?”

  “I don’t see why not. I think he’d love to have a new friend. But it depends on whether it’s okay with your mum,” Alex said, expertly shunning responsibility. Jamie’s grin and enthusiasm were nice, but they made her feel all the more exhausted.

  “Mum, can I?” Jamie asked, jiggling up and down on his knees. “Please?”

  Evelyn’s gaze shot from him to Alex. Her lips curved in an easy smile that intensified her beauty. “Thanks for that.”

  Alex shrugged. “I don’t make promises I can’t keep.”

  “Mum? I really want to meet Paddy. Please?” Jamie asked again, jiggling with more surplus energy. Alex wondered if he actually needed the toilet.

  “As long as an adult is there to supervise—Scott, Alex, or me—then yes.”

  “Yes!”

  That sorted, Alex continued reeling off the story of their travels, picking up from how Murphy had persevered and saved her life, all the way up to the shooting. At moments she wondered if she should stop being so honest. She didn’t know Evelyn. It usually took time for her to develop a sense of trust, but that didn’t seem to be the case with Evelyn.

  Evelyn finished p
acking the wounds and turned her attention to Jamie. “I need you to go to the mess hall and get a cup of milky, sugary tea and something sweet for Alex to eat. Without it she might faint. You’ve got to be as quick as you can. Don’t talk to anyone. Don’t stop. Get the drink and food, then run straight back. Okay?”

  Jamie nodded. His chin hitched and his chest puffed out proudly. “Okay, Mum.”

  “Good boy. When you get back I’ll show you how we’re going to do the blood transfusion.”

  “Yes.” Jamie fled from the room, his thin legs pumping, giving him surprising speed. As soon as the door closed, Evelyn rushed to Alex’s side, startling her.

  “Was Gemma with a young lad called Ben?” she asked, her tone a whisper that was barely audible, her urgency palpable.

  Alex hesitated. She’d promised herself that she wouldn’t reveal Ben’s presence. But looking into Evelyn’s eyes, she couldn’t bring herself to lie. Something inside willed her to tell Evelyn the truth. “Yes. He was badly beaten when we were attacked, but he fled before these lot came.”

  Evelyn’s face drained. “It’s no good. They know he’s involved. They’re not going to stop searching for him and if they find him, he’s as good as dead.”

  “I don’t know where he went,” Alex said a little pathetically. “But I really need to talk to Gemma. We have to sort our story. We need to be consistent.”

  Evelyn shook her head. “You’re not going to be able to get near her. I’m sorry. She’ll be under lock and key for the foreseeable future.” Her brow creased and something akin to determination flickered across her face. “I should be able to convince them to let me check on her. I’ll try and talk to her and tell you what she says. It’s a long shot.”

  “Thank you.”

  Evelyn gave a humourless smile. She bent down and checked the plastic bag of blood, then gently touched Alex’s hand.

  Surprised by the intimacy, Alex flinched and then felt foolish. “Sorry. Instinct.”

  “I should have asked first. Please may I check your pulse?”

  Alex nodded. This time, as the softness of Evelyn’s fingers caressed the inside of her wrist, a pleasant shiver scuttled out across her flesh. Her heart buckled in her chest and she wondered if it would affect her pulse. Her cheeks warmed at the thought, as she feigned calmness.