Endemic Rise of the Plague (41 page)

“I don’t know,” Dave explained, “We heard the gunshots and rushed over to you. We thought you were dead. Infected were running toward us, we had to leave you there. When we got back to the alley, all we could see were Mara’s tail lights going inside the gates. Maybe she was scared and thought Angora was the only way of The Port.
How did you survive? You had no pulse and infected were all around.”

“It’s a long story. I’ll
explain, I promise.”

Roxy knelt down petting Rogue for a moment while thinking.
Why would Mara go back to Angora? She said we were all in danger. Unless she was lying, but why would she leave, just to go back? And why take Kate?

“You don’t think that she was after Kate all along, do you?” She stood up, looking to Dave.

“Why would she be?” Dave asked doubtfully.

“There was something that Mara said to me when we left Angora and in the video store, that is starting to make sense. She told the guard at the gate that we needed to get my sister to Angora before she is bitten or infected, and that she could be the key to a cure. Because Kate is probably a carrier, because she’s my sister,” Roxy said.

“That makes a little bit of sense,” Hank chimed in. “They won’t do anything to her if they need her. She probably doesn’t even know what’s really going on.”

“Yeah, but where would we even begin to look for her?”
Roxy kicked the dirt.

“Angora Headquarters, in Blue Falls. It’s about three hours from here. I can take you there now,” Shotgun said
, motioning to the El Camino.

“Let’s go then, what are we waiting for?” Roxy said
, chewing the last bite of her steak and tapping the bed of the El Camino. Rogue obediently hopped into the back.

“Let’s hit it,” Shotgun said.

Hank slid into the driver’s seat, while Shotgun took the passenger side. The rest loaded up into the back, as Hank turned over the engine. He pulled out of the rear dirt parking lot onto the interstate.

“We’
re going to get Kate back Dad, I promise. If they need her like I think they do, they aren’t going to hurt her,” Roxy said, grabbing her father’s hand.

“I know we’ll get her back. I am so glad that you are okay. I thought we lost you last night. You seem so grown up right now. I just… I’m so proud of you,” Joe’s eyes filled up with tears, but he wouldn’t let them fall, as he squeezed her hand. “You’re eyes…they’ve changed. And what are you doing eating meat? Do I need to call PETA?
Kidding aside, you haven’t had meat in years Roxy, it could make you sick.”

“Dad, I have a lot to tell you,” Roxy said, trying to figure where to start the conversation.

“Well, we’ve got a long ride ahead of us to get caught up,” Joe ran his hand through his hair.

“Hey guys, there’s something on the radio about what happened in the Port,” Shotgun announced after opening the custom rear window as the car sped down the interstate
, beginning the long road ahead to Blue Falls to reunite with Kate.

Maggie busied herself wiping a booth that had contained a young couple, a few minutes prior at Dizzy’s Café. Having seen a handful of strangers come through, Maggie thought this morning had been different from most. Strangers were rare around these parts and to see five in such a short time—sent Maggie’s mind into overdrive. She
pondered where these people had come from. While none of them admitted to being from Port Steward, she had her doubts, after what had happened there, the night before.

The front door opened, interrupting her thoughts.
Who could that be now?

“Good Morning John Thomas!” Maggie exclaimed, joyfully eyeing a regular. “I sure am happy to see a familiar face. Go ahead and take your usual seat, and I’ll get you your coffee.”

John sat on a stool at the counter, his shoulders were sunk forward, and his head hung down as if he were sulking.

Tossing her wet towel into the tote of dishes,
Maggie heaved the tote to her hip and made her way behind the counter. Dropping the tote of dishes in the sink, she wiped her hands on her apron before pouring coffee into a cup and setting it before her patron.

“Is everything alright John?” She asked, as she leaned over the counter.

“Yeah, I guess so,” he said in a raspy voice, taking a sip of coffee, “Great cup of joe, as usual Maggie.”

“Can I get you your usual breakfast?” Maggie asked.

John nodded, his glazed-over eyes drifting off toward the west windows.

As Maggie wrote up the ticket for John’s usual meat mania omelet with cheesy country potatoes, she eyed her customer with regard. In general, John
has always been a spirited fella that stops by each morning for breakfast, before getting back to work at his peach orchard. He certainly was not himself this morning, and now that Maggie gave him a thorough once over, he looked pretty dirty. She placed the order on the trolley and spun it to the back. Wanting to find out what could be troubling John, her gut told her to leave it alone, for now.

Making her way to her other customers, she topped off Tommy Joe’s coffee cup as he sat alone in the booth just inside the door, reading the newspaper. She could see the revolver in Tommy Joe’s waistband. It caused her no alarm though; he always had his revolver on his side. Living out in the country has its hazards. Most ranchers around these parts carry guns on them.

Moving over to mister and misses Anderson in the corner booth, they requested milk refills for their two preteen boys as they kept trying to get their cell phones to work. Lastly, she made her way to her last customer in the diner, Andy Martin, who had just walked in and taken his regular seat, in the booth next to Tommy Joe’s. She poured coffee into his empty cup, confirming that he wanted his usual breakfast. Andy made mention of his phone line being out since last night. Maggie thought it a strange coincidence that the Anderson’s were having trouble with their cells too, but didn’t give it much thought.

Ding
, sounded from the back counter. Maggie fluttered back to the order window and retrieved John Thomas’ breakfast. She placed the plate before him and offered a brief smile.

John
rocked in his seat back and forth, his eyes half open. For a minute, Maggie thought he might be drunk. She quelled the thought, assuring herself that John Thomas had given up liquor nearly fifteen years ago. Surely he hadn’t fallen off the wagon.

“Now John Thomas, you are not
lookin’ well. You tell me what’s wrong right now, or I’m gonna to call Doc Wilson this instant,” Maggie mothered him.

“You know, I just think I’m hungry. That’s all,” he muttered.

“Well, I do not believe you John Thomas, so I’m callin’ the doctor,” she pulled out her cell phone, looking at him, giving him one last opportunity to offer an explanation. Glancing at her phone, she noticed the words
No Service
where her antenna bars normally were located.
Now that’s strange.

“Okay, okay, put down the phone,” John began with an uncooperative sigh. “I came across a drifter last night. Found him in the orchard and damn near shot ‘em. He seemed decent enough, so I told him that he could stay over in the barn for the night.
Didn’t want the coyotes to get ‘em for Christ’s sake. ‘Cause then I’d have to clean up after them, that’s all.”

Maggie looked at the old man as he paused
. Time had sure taken its toll on him, and he’d had his share of grief, losing his family in a fire more than two decades ago. He was a kind and generous man, Maggie could see that in him. But he damn sure didn’t want the world to know it, cloaking his generosity and kindness in sarcasm and negativity.

“This morning, that little bastard broke into my house, busted right through the window,” John continued, “And would you believe that he tried to fight me? We tussled a bit. I ain’t as young as I used to be, then—he
bit me on the ankle, like a dog! He was crazed or something, I tell you. I shot him, dead. I tried calling the sheriff, but my phones ain’t working. I was on my way to the sheriff’s office, when I started to feel real bad, sick or something. Figured I needed a bite.”

Maggie listened in awe.
Sweet Christmas, I’ve got to call Delores and Barbie and tell them about this. Strangers be damned, now this is a story.

“Oh my goodnes
s John! I am just glad that you’re alright. Eat up and head over to the sheriff, but you should stop by the clinic and get checked out, to make sure you’re okay,” Maggie insisted.

“Will do,” John said, taking a bite of potatoes.

Maggie’s mind reeled as she walked over to the Anderson’s booth and placed two full glasses of milk on the table. Retrieving the empties, she returned them to the sink. She heard a loud thud behind her and spun around to see that John had passed out. He was faced down, with his head on his plate, body slumped forward onto the counter.

“John!” Maggie shouted as she raced around the counter.

Maggie approached him from behind, not sure what to do next. She reached a shaky hand to his neck, but couldn’t find a pulse. Tommy Joe and Andy rushed to John’s aid.

“Let’s get him on the floor,” Andy said
, looking to Tommy Joe.

Andy grabbed John at the shoulders, Tommy Joe took the legs and they carefully laid him on his back. Andy felt for a pulse,
then shook his head at Tommy Joe and Maggie.

“I know CPR. Tommy Joe, call nine, one, one,” Maggie slid over to John’s right side.

Tommy Joe dashed around the counter as Maggie tilted John’s head back and felt for a pulse once more. She couldn’t feel anything. Leaning over John’s mouth and nose, she listened for breathing. He wasn’t breathing.

“Phone’s not working, Maggie. There’s no dial tone,” Tommy Joe announced. “Does anybody have a cell phone?”

Maggie lifted her head from John’s face, when she heard something. It sounded as if he were gradually exhaling. Stealing a quick glance at him, he still looked the same. She leaned in further, to listen for breathing, hearing the same sound as before. Confusion fell upon her well-worn face, as she wrinkled her forehead, attempting to decipher this incident with John Thomas.
What is that noise? Is he choking?
Her expression quickly turned to an agonizing grimace.

Maggie felt a torturous burning sensation in her ear and in the side of her slender face. It was in this moment that she realized that John’s teeth were fastened to the side of her head. She cried out in pain as she slapped her hands on John’s face and head, but his grip would not be loosened.

“John!” Andy shouted, after jumping back, appalled at the sight before him.

Andy leaned in, squeezing John’s shoulder and neck in an effort to get John to release Maggie’s ear. Suddenly, John jerked his head away from Maggie, ripping her ear from the side of her head. He opened his mouth and began chewing the ear, while glaring in the direction of Andy with a feral expression. His eyes were completely black and peeled open, as though in absolute
rage. Blood dribbled down his pale chin. Clenching his fists, he hollered painfully through cracked lips, much louder than anything Maggie had ever heard.

Maggie shrieked in terror, gripping her head as blood began to spurt through her fingers. She looked at Tommy Joe who had now dropped the phone and was rushing over to her. Turning her eyes to John, still on the floor, he lunged
forward, thrusting himself at Andy, biting down on Andy’s throat with such speed and strength that it remained hard for Maggie to believe this was the same man that sat at her counter just moments before.
What has happened to him?

Tommy Joe
shouted at John, while yanking on his shoulders, but was unsuccessful at moving him. Tommy Joe backed up, dug out his gun and shot John in the back of the head. John’s body collapsed over Andy.

Maggie pulled her apron up to her face, pressing it tightly against the wound, staring down at John in revulsion. Andy lay on the floor saturated in blood, his eyes fixed open. Maggie tried calling 9-1-1 from her cell with a trembling hand, but she still had no reception. As she dropped the cell, she saw John’s body slide off of Andy’s on to the floor beside him. Andy sat up, teeth snarling, glaring up at Tommy Joe with blackened eyes…

Outside the small diner called Dizzy’s Café, a mixture of screams, growls and gunshots could be heard as the Anderson family fled from
the diner. They raced to their hybrid compact car, Misses Anderson holding a bloody towel over her bitten wrist. Mister Anderson pulled the car out of the parking lot and onto the interstate.

A Note from the Author…

Thank you for reading the first installment of The Rise of the Plague Trilogy.
The second installment is well underway. More information will be released as it is available, on the websites and through social media.

Writing has always been a passion for me. There is something about submersing yourself into another world that has intrigued me for my entire life.
Authors would be nothing without loyal readers, so I extend my deepest appreciation to you for reading this title. It is my hope that you’ve enjoyed reading
Endemic: Rise of the Plague
, as much as I have enjoyed writing it.

Sincerely,

Jeannie Rae