Apocalypsis: Book 3 (Exodus) (37 page)

BOOK: Apocalypsis: Book 3 (Exodus)
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I shrugged.  “Why not?  We’re all strangers, and we get along just fine.”

“Maybe we won’t once we live together,” said Gretchen.  “Bianca snores, you know.”

“That’s okay,” I said.  “Peter has gas.  We’ll all just have to learn to accept each other and our issues.”

Peter sighed heavily.  “We need a name for our town.  Happyville is too …
ugh
.  I can’t even think of a word.”

“Dorky?” suggested Winky.

“Goofy?” said Gretchen.

“Delusional?” added Ronald.

“Okay!  I get it!  It’s a stupid name!  Geez, pick a new one, already.”  I hid my smile behind my hand, pretending to pick my teeth.

“What happened to Apocalypsis?” asked Peter.  “I liked that one.”

“I don’t know,” I said.  “Maybe it’s too depressing, to be reminded of what got us here.  I’d like something more hopeful-sounding.  Something that stands for what we want this place to be, not what’s already happened to us.”

It went quiet as everyone tried to come up with a more suitable name.

“See?  Not so easy, is it?”

“Eden,” said Jamal.

“Too religious.  Plus that’s what the Amazon girls are calling their place, I think.”

“How about
New
New York,” said Bianca.

Ronald frowned at her.

“What?” she said, pouting.  “I liked New York.”

“Buzz!
  Try again,” said Peter.

“Bryn, what’s your last name?” asked Ronald.

“Mathis.  Why?”

“Well, lots of towns in the United States were named after someone, using their last names.  Like Washington, for example.”

“Mathisville,” said Peter, thinking about it.

“Mathistown,” suggested Jamal.

“Mathis City,” said Winky.

Hearing my name over and over like that in this context made me think of my dad.  If it weren’t for him, I wouldn’t even be here.

“What about Derek Mathis City?” I said, not entirely convinced it was any good for a city name, but feeling like I wanted to pay homage to my father.  “I know it’s stupid, but that was my dad’s name.  And he was the most amazing person I ever knew.”  I got choked up at the end of my sentence, unable to finish and tell them what an impact he’d had on my life.

Bodo squeezed my hand and reached over with the other to rub my arm.

“I don’t have a problem with that,” said Gretchen.  “It’s not stupid, to try and remember the people we loved and who tried to take care of us.”  She looked at the others.

“Bryn’s dad did a lot for her.  For all of us, really,” said Peter.  “Without the training he gave her, I’m pretty sure we’d all be dead right now.  Every single one of us.  It’s had a trickle-down effect, protecting each of us at one point or another.”

“Fine by me,” said Ronald.  “Our daddy was a good guy too.  Maybe we can name a part of this place after him.”

“What was his name?” I asked, wiping the tears from my cheeks.

“Gerald.  Gerald Williams.”

“Good idea.  This can be the Gerald Williams building,” I said.

Everyone nodded.

“I want to name da gardens after my mudder,” said Bodo.  “Da Birgitta Ruster Gardens.”

“Lily should have something with her name on it,” said Peter softly.

“How about the hospital?  I’m sure we’ll have one,” I suggested.

Peter nodded.  “She would have liked that, I think.  The Lily Heggenburger Clinic.”

A full two seconds went by before three people snorted.  Then the rest of us, save Bodo and Peter, started giggling.

“What?” said Peter, offended.  “It’s a perfectly good name.”

“Heggenburger?  Is that seriously your last name?” I asked.  “I can’t believe I didn’t know that before now.”

“Yes,” he said, lifting his chin.  “I’ll have you know it has a distinguished history.”

“I like it,” said Bodo.  “It’s a nice Cherman name. 
Hegen
meanss cherish or maybe … harbor.”

“What about the burger part?” asked Bianca, clearing her throat, trying to get serious.

“A
burg
is a town and a
burger
is a person who lives in a town.  So,
Heggenburger
, dats a person who liffs in da town of harbor or cherish.  Kindt of like dat, but not exactly.”

I nodded my head.  “Sorry, Peter.  That name is actually pretty cool, and perfect for a hospital.  I’m sorry I laughed.”

“Apology accepted,” he said in his haughtiest voice.

“Anyone else?” I asked.

Everyone shook their heads.

“Maybe tomorrow,” I said, yawning.  “For now, I’m going to bed.”

“This early?” asked Jamal.

“Yeah.  I’m exhausted.”  I looked at the guys.  “Are we going to do lookouts or guards?”

“Buster will be our guard,” said Peter, lying down and pulling him close.  “G’night guys.”

Everyone settled in, and I indulged in a nice long kiss with Bodo.

“I’m glad we finally made it here togedder,” he whispered.

“Me too.”

“And you luff me now.”

“Yeah.  I do.”

“Good.  You are Mrs. Bodo den.”

“Whatever you say, Mr. Bryn.”

“I’b aboud do gag on the sugar, guys,” said Winky.

I kicked her gently with my foot.  “Shush.  I’m trying to sleep.”

The last thing I remembered thinking before I fell into a thankfully dreamless sleep was the fact that we’d finally found our safe haven.

***

I sat up straight, yawning as I took in my surroundings.  The lobby had a shimmer of light coming in from the rising sun.  Everyone was still asleep, a couple of them snoring lightly.

“Wake up, everyone!” I said cheerily.  “The first day of the town of Haven has begun!”

Peter sat up and rubbed his head.  “Haven?  I thought we were calling it Derek Mathis whatever.”

“I thought about it and decided that Haven was more accurate.  And easier to say and remember.”

“What’s she saying?” said Jamal, sitting up and pushing on his brother.  “Get up, Ronnie.  Time to do the dirty work.”

“She’s renaming the town again,” said Bianca.  “But I like it, so I’m not complaining.”

“Haven works,” said Gretchen, standing and stretching her long frame.  She was bone-thin and much taller than I had realized before.  She was no longer slouching or looking cowed, and it make me smile.

She caught me staring and reached up to touch her hair.  “It’s my hair isn’t it?  I know, it’s terrible.  This was Bianca’s brilliant idea.”

“No, it wasn’t,” she complained, standing up too.  She was a couple inches shorter than her friend.  “It was Jenny’s idea and I just seconded it.”

“Oh sure, blame it on the unconscious girl,” said Jamal.

“I’m not unconscious,” came a soft voice.  “Just resting my eyes.”

I stood and nudged Bodo with my foot.  “Come on, sleepy head.  Let’s get this over with.”

“Food first,” said Peter, dragging a backpack over to him.  He pulled out a loaf of hard, stale bread.  “Someone hand me a knife.”

Winky sat up, moaning and holding her face gingerly.  She took one hand away from her nose and reached into her boot, pulling out a knife and handing it over to Peter without looking.

“Thank you,” he said, taking it and trying to slice the bread.

“Give that to me before you cut your leg open,” said Ronald taking the bread and knife away.  He put it on the blanket and sawed pieces off for all of us.

We stood around crunching our old bread, smiling at each other.

“Lap of luxury,” said Peter.

“High style,” agreed Gretchen.

“Better than caviar,” said Jamal.  “I think.  I’ve never had caviar before, actually.”

We all laughed.  It felt like a great start to a new day and a new life.

After we all did our business outside, we came back together in the lobby and decided to travel as a group.  Peter volunteered to stay behind with Jenny and all of our supplies.  I made him take a gun and keep it in his lap.

“You don’t need to kill anyone who comes to the gate.  Remember, they can’t get over,” I said, looking at him closely, making sure he was paying attention to me.

“But if they shoot at you, then you shoot back,” said Winky, her voice back to normal, now that the swelling in her nose was down a bit.  Her face looked awful, but I was pretty sure her nose had been saved.

“Yeah, yeah, okay.  I got it.  Just go see what you can find,” he said, waving us off.

We started in the hallway to the left of the front desk area.  In the beginning, we had to use keys, but most of the doors after the front section were open.  They were the bar-type, the kind used to keep prisoners in their area.  We passed room after room of sterile-looking spaces, all of them painted a weird green color, some of them empty and some with desks and chairs.  A couple looked like waiting rooms.  None of them had windows.  The ones that looked like offices had thick wired glass separating them from the hallways.

We went through a triple set of doors and found ourselves in one of the prisoner wings.  It was empty.  We whispered as we walked around the different levels, taking metal stairs with holes in them that made bonging sounds when the sneakers of our friends hit them.  The moccasins were as silent here as they were in the swamp.

“Where are all the bodies?” asked Jamal in a hushed voice.

“Maybe there aren’t any,” said Bianca, whispering.

“No, they’re here,” said Ronald.  “Just not
here
here.  They couldn’t have disappeared into thin air.”

We found a big, industrial-sized kitchen with a connected lunchroom.  The place could have easily held a couple hundred people.

“Could you imagine the place filled with canners?” asked Jamal.

I shuddered involuntarily, because I could.  I was so glad we’d gotten here before them.

“Come on, let’s go back,” I said.  We’d reached a dead end.

“Wait a minute,” said Ronald.  He’d gone into the kitchen, poking around.

“Come on, Ronald, I’m getting hungry,” whined his brother.

I heard a banging around, the sound of Ronald’s gagging coming just seconds after.  Then a horrible smell hit me.

“Oh, shit, what
is
that?” asked Gretchen, pulling her thin shirt up to cover her face.

“Help!  Help!” yelled Ronald.  “God, please, get me out of here!”

 Bodo and Jamal raced into the kitchen and came out pulling Ronald with them.  He was bent over and still choking.

I was totally confused, rooted to the spot.  “What the hell happened in there?!”

“He foundt da bodies.  Some of dem, maybe.”

Ronald lifted an arm weakly, gesturing in the direction they’d just come from.  “They’re in the walk-in fridge.  Stacks of them.  Everywhere.  Rotten. 
Gah!”
  He turned and threw up on the floor.

“Great,” I said, breathing through my mouth, pulling in Winky’s sleeve.  “Come on.  Let’s get out of here and figure out what we’re going to do.”

The smell followed us out into the main part of the prison and then into the guards’ area.

We joined Peter and Jenny in the front, and he greeted us first with an expectant smile, and then an expression that made it clear the stink had followed us out here, too.

“I take it you found something,” he said, screwing up his mouth into a tiny grimace.

“Yeah.  They were in the fridge.”

“It was sealed and I opened it,” said Ronald, taking big gulps of air and fanning his face.

Jamal was fanning him too.

“We needt to find some carts to wheel dem out of dare.  It’s gonna take a long time.”

“Can’t we just close it up and leave it?” asked Ronald weakly.  “You guys didn’t see it.  It’s
nasty
.”

“No.  It’s toxic waste,” I said.  “We just have to suck it up and do it.  And find a place way the hell away from here so we don’t contaminate our ground with it.”

“You didn’t happen to find any biohazard suits did you?” asked Peter.

“No.  But I wouldn’t be surprised to find some here,” I said, trying to think back to our tour and remember if I saw any storage closets with something like that in them.  “It’s a prison.  All kinds of crazy contingencies are planned for here.”

“Did you find guns or bullets?” he asked.

“Nope.  None of that, either.  It’s probably on that side,” I said, gesturing to the hallway to right of the front desk.  “We need to eat.  Then we can go see what’s over there in that section.”

“I’m already on it,” said Peter, gesturing towards the blanket he’d laid out with what looked like a sad little picnic.

I hugged him close.  “You are the bestest, Peter Heggenburger.”

He patted me on the back.  “I know.  Now eat.”  He pushed me away and went to sit next to Jenny, helping her get up so she could join us.  Her cheeks had some pink in them which was encouraging.

We finished lunch, none of us having much of an appetite with that smell still lingering, so we packed up our wrappers and cans and regrouped at the door on the right side of the lobby.

“Ready to do this?” I asked, looking at each of them.

“Yes,” said Gretchen, looking at Ronald.  “And may I suggest that we
not
open any fridges or other air-locked spaces this time around?”

Ronald nodded, looking chagrined.

“Okay.  Let’s go,” I said, leading the way into the hallway.

More of the rooms on this side were locked.  We cheered when we found storage rooms full of prisoner uniforms and slippers of every size.  I held up a pair at Bodo.  “All you need is a robe and you could look like a mental patient.”

Jamal was studying one closely, bending it back and forth.  “Flimsy.  I guess they didn’t want the prisoners to have anything that could be used as a weapon.”

Winky took the slipper she was holding and reached up, smacking Jamal on the back of the head with it.

“Like that?” she asked innocently.

Jamal blinked slowly a few times.  “I know you did
not
just smack me upside the head with a slipper.”

“Daaang, girl.  Our granny used to do that to us when she heard us cussin’,” said Ronald.

Jamal smiled and then mimicked an old lady’s voice.  “Do
not
take the Lord’s name in vain!  Do you hear me, boy?!”

Ronald went over and smacked his brother lightly in the shoulder with a slipper.  “Good times.”

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