“Let me go,” Reid said, staring into Marvin’s brown eyes.
Marvin was short, standing around five feet six inches, and he suffered from a rare form of Down syndrome called mosaic Down syndrome, or mosaicism, which left him with fewer symptoms than other forms. He still had many of the physical characteristics—a flat face, small ears, slanted eyes and slurred speech—but his mental acuity was far improved over others with his disorder. “Ma!”
“I heard you. Now stop shouting. The little girl is resting,” Hillary said, appearing in the doorway.
“He’s awake, Ma,” Marvin said, his stubby finger pointed at Reid.
“I want to see my daughter!” Reid barked.
Hillary stepped around and stood opposite Marvin. “Mr. Flynn, Hannah is resting right now. I can assure you that she’s safe.”
“What are you doing with us?”
“I know this must seem quite odd, but we’re here to help,” she said calmly.
“Taking me and my daughter prisoner doesn’t feel safe to me,” he snapped. He lifted his head and gave her a look up and down.
She was dressed in a white lab coat with a stethoscope around her neck.
“You’re a doctor?” he asked.
“I am,” she replied, a smile stretched across her face.
“What are you doing with us? What do you want?”
“Mr. Flynn—”
“How do you know my name?”
“I made sure to search your vehicle, very impressive, by the way,” she replied. “Once we brought you back to my office, I made sure to see if there was anything in the car of value. It appears that the car is the biggest prize of all.”
“What do you want with us?” Reid asked.
“I should introduce myself. My name is Dr. Hillary Cobb.”
“I don’t care who you are. I want to know what you’re going to do to me and Hannah.”
Marvin began to chuckle.
She gave Marvin an unpleasant look and said, “Go harvest the eggs from the chickens and prepare something for Mr. Flynn. I’m sure he’s hungry.”
“Okay, Ma,” Marvin said. He turned and exited the room.
Hillary pulled up a stool and sat. “I do apologize for how we met and that bump on the head, but I’m here to help people like your daughter.”
“How?”
“I don’t want to go into great detail, but eleven years ago I was on a team of scientists and virologists—”
“I don’t care. How are you going to help my daughter?”
“Mr. Flynn, yelling at me isn’t productive, but I do understand your frustration.”
Reid tensed his body and again tried to break free. “I want you to remove these. If you’re here to help me and Hannah, then untie me.”
“Removing those straps isn’t a good idea. If you behave yourself, I might consider it, but as far as your daughter goes, I’ve begun my treatment.”
“Treatment? What are you doing to her?” Reid exclaimed, his eyes bulging with anger.
“Mr. Flynn, I worked on a team years ago. We created the dog flu, and I believe I have the one cure for it with a current vaccine I’ve developed.”
Reid’s anger melted away when he heard what she’d said. “Wait, you created the dog flu?”
“Yes.”
“I don’t understand. Why? Why would you do something like that?”
“It’s too long a story to go into, but I feel that after all these years, I might have designed the one cure. You could say working on doing this has been my way of redeeming myself for what I helped create.”
“The dog flu is manmade?”
“Yes.”
“What kind of demented and sick person are you?”
“I was one member of a team, and when I joined them over a decade ago, I had no idea what we were doing. They kept us separate from the other members of the team. I was working on sequencing DNA, nothing more. I thought we were designing a vaccine for Ebola.”
“I want to see my daughter,” Reid said.
“In a bit,” she said then stood. “Mr. Flynn, I’m not here to harm you or your daughter. I know it might seem contrary, but I’m one of the good people. And if I’m right, your daughter will survive this.” She exited the room, closing the door behind her.
“No, come back. Hey, come back and take off these bindings. I want to see Hannah. I want to see my daughter!”
FIVE MILES WEST OF LOGAN, NEW MEXICO
Michael and Brienne stopped at the gate. His house was off in the distance; several dim lights shone through the windows.
“Why are we stopped here?” Brienne asked.
“My mom is going to be mad,” Michael said.
“I suppose she has every right to be. You up and left her alone with your grandmother.”
“All I want to do is make them proud of me, and again I’ve proven to be an idiot, weak, stupid—”
“Enough complaining. I’m hungry for some real food,” Brienne said. She climbed over the gate and waited on the other side for Michael. “Well, are you coming?”
“I don’t want to go back.”
She shrugged and started down the driveway.
“Where are you going?”
Not looking back, she replied, “I’m going to go get a hot meal and water. I’ll tell your mom you’re out here pouting.”
He grunted his displeasure, scaled the gate, and ran up to her. “You’d do that?”
“Yeah, I would.”
“But what if I just turned around and took off?”
She stopped, grabbed him by the arm, and spun him around so they were facing each other. “Then go, but if your mom comes looking for you and you end up getting her killed, all because you want to have a tantrum, then so be it. Or you can come with me and tell her you tried to find them but were unsuccessful. What you need to get into your head is you’re not a failure for not finding them, you just didn’t find them; that’s it. Stop making it more than what it really is. Your dad and brother could have gone in a million different directions looking for the medicine for your grandma.”
“Her name is Nana.”
“Whatever. Just stop pouting like a child. It took real grit to go out there. Yeah, you came up short, only because you were going to be hunted down, but that’s not your fault. Heck, you might walk in the house and find your dad and brother are home.”
He snapped his head in the direction of the house and asked, “Do you suppose they are?”
“They could be,” she said, though she didn’t believe it to be the case.
He headed down the driveway briskly.
“Now you want to go,” she snarked.
“They might be there. Dad might be there,” he said, his heart filled with hope.
She rushed up alongside him and once more stopped him. “Don’t roll in there with high expectations only to have them dashed, okay?”
“I won’t.”
“Good,” she said with a slight nod.
He continued on to the house.
***
Upon seeing Michael, Tanya raced up to him and wrapped her arms around his body and squeezed tightly. “Where have you been?” She glanced over his shoulder and saw Brienne standing a few feet behind him. “Michael, who’s the woman?”
“That’s Brienne.”
“But who is she? Can we trust her?” Tanya asked.
“Yes, we can trust her,” Michael insisted.
Tanya gave Brienne a wary stare for a second then turned her attention back to Michael. She pulled away and glared. “You scared me to death. What were you thinking?” she snapped, her tone angry.
“I went to look for Dad and Chase.”
“Why would you do that? Huh?”
“Are they here? Have they returned?” Michael asked, looking into the kitchen from the front room.
“No, they haven’t returned, and once I saw you were gone, I feared the worst about you too,” Tanya said.
Nana emerged from the hallway, a look of disa
ppointment written on her face. “You’re no longer my favorite.”
Michael smirked.
“Come inside and warm up,” Tanya said. She stepped out of the way so Michael could pass.
Michael entered the kitchen. He removed his jacket and said, “Sorry, Nana.”
“Don’t apologize,” Nana said, lowering herself into a chair.
Tanya stood in the doorway. She gave Brienne another glance and asked, “I suppose I should invite you in?”
“Your son sort of owes me,” Brienne said.
“Owes you what?” Tanya bristled.
“My life, Mom; she saved my life,” Michael said.
Tanya didn’t like strangers, especially attractive women who happened to show up with her son. “Since you saved Michael’s life, I should invite you in.”
“That’s mighty nice of you.” Brienne laughed.
Tanya got out of the doorway.
Brienne walked in and looked around the front room. It had been a long time since she’d been in a home that was still being maintained; even the smell reminded her of life before. “You have a nice home.”
“Come back to the kitchen. I assume you’re hungry,” Tanya said.
The two entered the kitchen, with Brienne stopping just at the arched entryway. She looked around the room and settled her stare on Nana, who, like Tanya, was giving her a once-over. “Aren’t you a pretty little lady?”
Brienne unslung her rifle and removed her pack. “Has it been that long since you’ve seen a woman besides…?” she asked, motioning with her head towards Tanya.
“You’re the first stranger this house has seen in nine years,” Nana replied.
Tanya returned with a steaming bowl of chicken broth, set it on the table, and said, “I have some bread. Care for a slice?”
The second the aroma of the broth hit Brienne, her stomach churned and hunger pangs came on strong. Her mouth watered as she sat in front of the bowl. She didn’t wait for a spoon; she picked up the bowl and began to sip loudly, soup spilling down her chin and onto the table.
Nana and Tanya stared at her.
“Been a while, eh?” Nana asked.
Brienne gulped the rest of the broth and set the bowl back on the table. Using her sleeve, she wiped her chin. “Yes, it’s been a long time since I’ve had hot food like this. Thank you.”
“Want some more?” Tanya asked.
“If you don’t mind,” Brienne replied happily.
Michael took a seat next to Brienne, a hot bowl of broth in front of him, yet he sat staring at her.
Tanya returned with a fresh bowl and gave it to Brienne, who this time used the spoon.
“Tell me about how you two met?” Tanya asked.
“I went into town to find Dad, when—”
“I want to hear it from her,” Tanya said, putting a slice of bread next to Brienne.
Given her cue, Brienne explained how she’d been just outside town and was merely scanning the town when she saw Michael coming towards it. She mentioned how the men were pursuing him and she took it upon herself to kill them. Unsure of how they’d act, she left out the incident with the young man, who she now thought could have been Michael’s brother.
“You must be a dead shot,” Nana said. “We need to keep her around here.”
“Did you happen to come across a man, middle-aged, average height, he would have been traveling with a young man?” Tanya asked.
“No,” Brienne answered. “I only saw Michael and those men.”
“Do you think those men might have something to do with them not returning?” Tanya asked.
Before Brienne could answer, Nana blurted out, “Of course those hooligans could have something to do with them not coming back. He was attacked the last time he went into town; that’s why his trip was foolish. He risked his life along with Chase’s just to save an old dying woman.”
“Mom, please don’t talk like that in front of Michael,” Tanya snapped. Her nerves were already frayed with Michael missing; having Nana be so coarse just added to her pain.
“The boy should know the truth,” Nana fired back.
Tanya slammed a bowl down on the counter, shattering it into pieces and cutting her finger. “If you believe you’re dying, then die already.”
The room grew quiet.
Nana’s lip quivered. She wanted to say something back but held it. Unable to sit in the room any longer, she got to her feet and shuffled out of the room.
Michael hopped up and went to her. “Let me help you, Nana.”
“Leave me be,” she said, dismissing his help.
Brienne dismissed it all and kept eating her broth.
When Nana disappeared, Michael swept back into the room and said, “Why did you have to say that to her?”
Tanya spun around and fired back, “Just the other day you were talking about that, now you’re defending her?”
“She’s old—”
“She’s the reason your dad and brother are missing,” Tanya replied, her voice cracking with emotion.
Michael went to Tanya and put his arms around her. “I’m sorry, Mom.”
“I just want them home. I’m so worried,” Tanya cried.
Brienne clenched her jaw tight. She wanted to say something about what she had witnessed, but each time she came close, she relented. Was it better for them to know they were dead or not? People said they liked closure but was that really true? Some people like to have hope and are fine living with the thought that their loved ones are still out there somewhere. She glanced at Michael and Tanya embraced. She felt for them while also feeling a sense of jealousy. They might have lost two family members, but they still had each other.
Tanya wiped the tears from her cheeks, shot Brienne a look, and said, “I’m sure you wish you weren’t here to witness all this drama.”
Brienne gave her a smile and answered, “Life is hard, I know.”
“Where are you from?” Tanya asked.
“Originally from Seattle but was living in Yuma when the shit hit the fan,” she replied.
“Do you mind if I ask why you’re traveling?” Tanya asked.
“I’m heading home,” Brienne said.
“What’s it like out there?” Tanya asked. “Will told me stories, but he only went as far as Snowflake.”
Brienne sat back and wiped her mouth with her sleeve. “You’ve never left the farm?”
“No.”
“And you?” Brienne asked Michael, who was still standing next to his mother.
“Today was the first time,” he answered.
“Hmm, how do I describe it? It’s surreal, actually, at least that’s how it was right after. I kept thinking it was all a nightmare I would wake up from, but each time I opened my eyes, I saw the same thing—death, decay, chaos, with sprinkles of hope when I’d encounter a kind person. The cities are to be avoided at all costs, especially those that were nuked. What’s most shocking is just how vast the destruction is. You just can’t fathom that the entire world as we know it has been plunged into this, from Europe all across the US.”
“You’ve been to Europe?” Tanya asked.
“That’s where I was when it all happened,” Brienne replied. “I knew I shouldn’t go, but with the economy in shambles after the outbreak, then the war with China, I took a contracting job at a base in Germany. I wasn’t there for a month when the bombs started raining down. That was nine years ago. I’ve been trying to get home since.”
Tanya’s expression changed from curiosity to shock. She cleared the distance from the counter to the table and sat next to Brienne. “Oh dear, you’ve been out there all this time trying to get back home?”
“Yeah.”
“Do you have family?” Tanya asked.
“I did when the bombs dropped,” Brienne answered.
“Children?”
“A son, he’d be about Michael’s age now if he’s alive.”
Tanya reached out and touched Brienne’s hand. “I pray they’re aliv
e.”
Brienne recoiled. She wasn’t accustomed to human touch. Feeling awkward, she said, “Is your plumbing working?”
“No. If you need a bathroom, we have a pit latrine outside around back,” Tanya said. “Michael, do you want to show her where it is?”
“Sure,” Michael said.
“No, that’s fine. Just tell me how to get there,” Brienne said.
“I suppose it’s easier to just go out how you entered the house, turn right, and follow the porch around. It’s in the backyard about fifty yards away,” Tanya answered. “Michael, get her a lantern to take with her.”
“I’ve got a flashlight.” Brienne got up quickly and rushed out of the kitchen. She followed Tanya’s directions and found the latrine, but she didn’t have to use it. She just wanted an excuse to take a break from the conversation.
Finding a log, she sat down and thought about Dustin and her husband, Jake. There wasn’t a day that she didn’t think about them and wonder if they were alive. Her thoughts then shifted to whether she’d want to know before arriving in Yuma. If someone knew, would she also want to know? Would knowing give her closure, and if she did know, then what? Would she still need to go back to Yuma, or could she go somewhere else? What about her parents in Seattle? Maybe she could try to find a new home, somewhere safe, somewhere like where she was. They seemed self-sufficient and isolated. This could be a good place to make roots if they invited her to. She did often wonder if they were alive, and part of her journey home was to find them, dead or alive, because she did need to know. She wouldn’t have been making this journey if she knew they were dead. And what about Michael? Would he continue to go and try to find them? Or would Tanya eventually make the trip in hopes of finding her husband and son? She knew she would. Filled with purpose, Brienne went back into the house.
“I hope you found it okay,” Tanya said. She was back at the counter, cleaning up the debris from the broken bowl.
“They’re dead,” Brienne blurted out.
Tanya and Michael both snapped their heads in Brienne’s direction. “Who’s dead, your family?”
“No, I think your husband and son,” Brienne said.
CHAPTER FIVE
Seven Days: A Post-Apocalyptic Novel Page 13