Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3 (14 page)

“Okay, that’s enough for me, leave the bike,” Graham said, and awkwardly grabbed the tote with the guns balanced on top in his right arm and reached down and pulled Bang up in the other. He ran the rest of the distance to the truck, with more of the pack in pursuit behind them.

Graham opened the front passenger door, pushed Bang in roughly, and then stuffed the bin in right behind him. He then jumped in himself and quickly closed the door.

As they looked out the windows they saw a large coyote come to the rise, followed by a Rottweiler barking insanely. Sheriff growled in their direction, the fur on his back standing on end. Somehow, domestic dogs had gone so far as to join with the wild packs. The girls were shouting and crying and Graham turned around to them, waving his hand up and down, trying to calm them.

“It’s all right, we made it back,” he said. “Whew, that was too close!” He climbed over the bin, and lifted Bang back to the passenger side. “You’re pretty good with that bow and arrow, buddy!” he said.

“Those are bad dogs,” Bang said, pointing. “They’re coming over here,” he cautioned.

The girls’ cries started to increase as they remembered their drive the day before. Graham started the engine and circled around, even though the dogs were many now and they were jumping and snarling at the truck.

He sped down the main street and turned left toward the apartment complex beyond. The dogs gave up the chase before long. “Okay, girls, can you give me some directions here? Which building is it?” Graham asked.

Marcy pointed to a gray building with white trim and looked up through the back window at the second floor pointing north. “That’s it, number B204,” she said.

The building itself was fairly new, built within the last two years or so; behind it there were several more, still under stalled construction. Graham stopped the truck and let it idle right in front of the breezeway that led to the stairs of the building; he looked out the back windows and didn’t see any vicious canine brigades. He turned off the engine and then turned back to the girls. “I think I should go up there first. Do you have a key?”

Macy pulled at a lanyard around her neck that held a key hidden within her shirt. She took it off and handed it over. “It’s the first door on the left there,” she said, pointing to the second floor.

“Don’t forget the rifle. It’s in his closet,” Marcy added. She paused, then said, “His name is Brian.”

Graham nodded to them, not sure what else to say; he looked deep into Marcy’s eyes, and then Macy’s. He took the lanyard and said, “Keep the doors closed, and if there are any issues, honk the horn. I’ll just be a minute.”

All three nodded in unison. Graham looked at the dog and said, “You’re in charge, Sheriff,” and the shepherd returned the look with smiling eyes. Graham saw Bang grin back at the dog, then switch his gaze to the girls’ faces. The kid sobered quickly. After one quick survey of the world outside, Graham stepped out and silently closed the door, taking his rifle with him.

When he approached the building, Graham noticed debris scattered around the concrete breezeway. What looked to be cheese crackers and cereal were strewn all over.

The door to the apartment wasn’t locked or even fully closed, and Graham had a bad feeling about what lay inside. He pushed the door open a little and looked around, holding his rifle up as he entered. The smell hit him right away, pushing him back out the door. He looked down at the truck below and then pulled his jacket back up over his nose and mouth. He entered again and pushed the door against something lightly blocking it. He looked around the door itself and found a large unopened bag of sugar, just lying there wedged against the wall as if someone dropped it on his way out. The place was a mess, and the smell was terrible. Someone was dead in there somewhere. Though Graham couldn’t see the body, he had no doubt that the girls’ father had perished.

The lights to the kitchen on his right were blinding. He kept his rifle out and peered around the counter, scattered with cans of corn, a box of gelatin, and another of pancake mix, opened and spilled of its contents.

Nobody’s in here
, he thought. Then he looked over at the couch in the little living area, covered in tossed clothing. On the wall above the sofa he recognized two photos of the smiling girls, Macy and Marcy. One was a gold-framed picture of the girls and their father on what looked like a family fishing trip; each proudly held up a fish.

Graham made his way over to the bedroom and pushed the door, which was slightly ajar. He opened it farther with the end of his rifle.

What he saw wasn’t a victim of the pandemic but a bloody massacre. Two decomposing bodies were sprawled on the bed. The odor even seem to latch onto his eyeballs. He dry-heaved, then pulled the coat closer to barricade his senses further if it could. There was a man, or what looked like one, with a gunshot wound to the face and blood spray covering the wall behind him. A naked woman lay across his middle, face down; she appeared to have taken a shot to the back of the head.

Graham looked around quickly for any rifle within the closet and around the room, but it was clear the place had been ransacked, and a rifle would have been among the first things taken. He quickly made an about-face and ran toward the living room. He picked up the two pictures he’d seen on the wall and left, closing the door behind him as best he could. He looked down at the truck below and dreaded what he had to do now.

Checking below the stairs for any predators, Graham walked around to the driver’s side and entered the truck. He was glad to have fresh air to breathe into his lungs, even if it was cold and damp. “Here, I thought you might want these,” he said, and handed the pictures over to the girls who had wide, questioning eyes. “He’s not alive; I’m sorry,” he said.

Marcy said, “I want to see.” She looked beyond Graham, staring out the windshield.

“Let me tell you something, Marcy. You don’t want to see that. I’m telling you,” he said, shaking his head.

Macy cried now, and tears ran down Marcy’s face too. “I don’t know if I can believe you if I don’t see him,” Marcy said.

Taking a deep breath and fully understanding her statement, Graham said, “I know, but, Marcy, I don’t think he died of the virus. I think he was killed for supplies.” Then he added, “There’s food all over, like someone tried to cart it all off at once. I think he was shot in his sleep. He didn’t suffer. I’m sure your dad wouldn’t want you to see this.” Marcy let the tears roll, sobbing and holding her sister. Now they knew for sure, but the truth held no hope, and they were alone in the world together.

Graham let them be and turned his attention to the road; he needed to make distance between this place and the place he would be take them. He headed back out to the main road and scoffed at his own habit of putting on the loud turn signal, flipped it off, and turned left. They all looked at the parking lot in front of the market, the blue trash bin still smoking in front of it, as they headed out and they saw a black crow nibbling at bits on the pavement. No one said a word as they headed to the other end of town, where the final makeshift gate remained, blocking their freedom.

Graham put the truck in park and looked around before heading out to move the barrier. He didn’t feel the need to reclose it now, and when he got back into the cab, they drove on without looking back.

What should have taken them five hours to drive had culminated into a full day, a rescue, a murder, surgery, and a discovery that would remain with Graham forever. He looked back in his rearview mirror at the girls, and farther to the dog looking out the back window, then over to the boy looking up at him, and realized how much his life had changed in forty-eight hours with the death of his original family and the accumulation of this new one in such short order.

His Nelly would have loved each of them, and he was sorry she wasn’t here now, especially knowing she would instinctively know how to comfort the girls grieving in the backseat.

“Bang, why don’t you open the bin and get the map out for us,” Graham said to the boy. He did, and Graham saw how the boy smiled up at him whenever he asked for his help.

The trip north was a winding one, through forests, over hills, and into valleys. In most ways it seemed like any drive through the countryside in the fall—until Graham noticed that the brown cows who usually grazed in open fields were eating the tender green blades along the roadside and sometimes lounging on the warm blacktop road.

It had only been a day since Graham and Bang had left his home, but it felt like a week or more; Graham could feel the soreness in his shoulders from so much exertion earlier in the day. Pushing the memories of the awful day from his mind, he looked in the rearview mirror at Macy and Marcy, each gazing out her own window, but each also holding the other’s hand at the center of the backseat. He knew he’d have to stop in an hour or so to change Marcy’s bandage and find something in the back to eat.

When they got to the cabin they would have to take an inventory of their food and then look in town for more. He remembered there was a little store, though he was sure it was mostly open only during the summer months. He hoped they still had some supplies in there.

It had only been an hour since they’d left, and everyone was caught up in quiet thought.
Too quiet
, Graham thought. He reached over and turned on the radio, which emitted static at first. There were no search buttons on this thing. He turned the tuning knob slowly and tried to find some sign of life.

Macy said out of boredom, or curiosity, “What are you doing?”

“I’m checking to see if there are any news broadcasts or anything out there. Did you girls listen to the news after all this happened?” he asked.

“Yeah, but we were waiting for Dad . . .” Macy said; then she looked over at Marcy.

“We thought we should stay where we were so he could find us,” said Marcy. “Then, when he did not call back, we thought we should go find him.”

“The first broadcast said to go to the high school near where we lived, but then the next day it said not to. So we didn’t really know what to do,” Macy added.

“Yeah, I think everything happened so fast that there was a lot of confusion. And then it ended,” Graham said, raising his eyebrows as if to say he had no other answers and then pausing with a catch in his throat. “Anyway, here we are now.”

They were silent once again except for the sound of the static Graham made with the radio knob and the noise of the engine propelling them farther north on the wet highway.

Marcy began to nod off, and Graham saw Macy made her sister more comfortable so that she could fall asleep. He felt again he’d done the right thing; these twins needed each other, and he had saved them. Finally he found a beeping sound that was not static and tried to fine tune the station further. A woman’s dour voice began repeating an announcement he’d heard parts of before.

“This is a public service message. This pandemic was a weaponized attack starting in China. Due to faulty security measures, it quickly grew out of China’s control and spread globally. There is no one left to blame now. Fewer than 2 percent worldwide show immunity to this virus; some will try to hide from its effects, but those who are survivors most certainly are carriers.”

Then came the part he had not heard earlier but had suspected would turn out to be true.

“This means,” the sober voice continued, “if you are a prepper and successfully hid from the virus, you are still in jeopardy and should remain separated from any immune survivors or you will succumb to the pandemic after all.

“Additionally, The Charters of Freedom, including the US Constitution, the Declaration of Independence, and the Bill of Rights, have been automatically secured in a high-security vault, located beneath the Archives building on Constitution Avenue in Washington, DC. They should remain so until all borders are secure and the population has succeeded in creating a republic once again. Until that time it is best to leave them where they remain.

“This is a difficult world you live in now. Food and shelter should not be a survival issue in the short term, but you should educate yourselves and the younger generations on growing crops, hunting, fishing, and basic medical care.

“Due to the lack of public services, your biggest enemy now is Mother Nature, including wildlife, weather, fires, and even humankind. Gather and take care of the young, because they will need your guidance. Above all, live peacefully.

“This concludes this public service message.”

Graham looked forward through the rain-streaked windshield, down the long winding road as they made their way through Falls City. There was the familiar alert beeping, and then the message began again. Graham reached over and turned the radio off. He did not need to hear it again; he was still trying to comprehend what he’d heard the first time. He looked over at Bang, who was now fast asleep with his head lolling onto the side armrest.

Graham looked into the rearview mirror and saw Marcy asleep, her head on Macy’s lap. Macy looked directly at him with a worried expression in her vivid blue eyes. Sheriff must have been asleep too, because Graham had not seen even the tops of his ears over the seat for some time now.

Macy still stared at him. “Do you have any questions, Macy?” he asked, not knowing what she was thinking but seeing that she looked terrified.

“Does this mean it’s all gone? Everything?” she asked, as if trying to comprehend the incomprehensible.

Graham swallowed, “Macy, it means we have to take care of each other now. There are no schools, no police, and no hospitals anymore. No grocery stores or farmers, for that matter. It means we have to do all of those things for ourselves now. At some point the fires or weather will hit the power stations and there won’t be power any longer or gas for vehicles. No iPhones, computers, or video games. It means we have to think differently and make new rules that make sense to us in these times.

“We left the city because of the animals coming in after the smells and because people can no longer keep them at bay with everyday noises. Not to mention the fires that will soon come in and consume all the buildings and houses; there’s no fire department to put them out. That’s why I decided to head out to the cabin, because I know the area and I’ve hunted and fished there every year since I was a kid. It’s where my great-great-grandfather who was a logger lived, way back when. There’s an old apple orchard a few miles away too, so I know we can grow things there. It’s been done before,” he said.

Graham looked back at Macy again and thought she looked a little more hopeful and a little less terrified.
I’d better keep pushing these guys to think ahead and not look behind them or we won’t get through this
, he thought.

“We’re going to try to stop up here in Carnation and get some gas,” Graham said. “I’ll change Marcy’s bandage and give her some more medicine. We can get something to eat and hopefully find a bathroom. Sound good?”

“Yeah, especially the bathroom part,” Macy said with a faint smile. “Graham?” she said. Her tone led him to believe she wanted to ask more questions.

“Yeah?”

“Thank you for saving Marcy. You could have left us there. I just wanted to thank you for helping us.”

Graham just looked Macy in the eyes through the reflection in the rearview mirror and nodded solemnly.

~ ~ ~

Macy hoped Graham knew how grateful she really was. So she would not cry, she looked out the window as the gray rainy day gave way to a few patches of blue sky in the late afternoon, set against the autumn hues of the landscape that rushed by.

She was caught in a vicious cycle. She kept feeling as if she and Marcy were on a normal road trip with Mom or Dad, but then she would look up and see a stranger named Graham driving, a forcible reminder of why she was there. Then she would remember all that had happened that day, and the weeks before, as it replayed in her mind. Macy looked back out the window to get away from it all until she felt like she was on a road trip, once again.

Graham slowed as he approached the little town of Carnation on Highway 203. There was an apparent attempt at a roadblock as he went into town, with a few vehicles parked in the road. Graham just drove around them on the soft shoulder. There were no signs up or any other warnings, so he just assumed it was an early attempt by the residents to keep traffic out of their town. He drove a little more slowly, dodging a parked semi truck just before the Tolt River bridge.

They passed a baseball field, and Graham felt a pang of sorrow as he remembered the little league team he’d helped coach last spring at the insistence of his brother-in-law. He had not heard from that side of the family at all; he’d tried to call them when Nelly passed away, but no one ever answered. He shook it off and continued looking straight ahead.

Carnation was a typical little northwest farming community. The main street led past a pizzeria, an Ace Hardware store on the left and a Mexican restaurant on the right. He noticed a little nondescript gas station and pulled up to one of the pumps. Not certain if they would work, Graham got out quickly and slid his credit card through. To his surprise, his card was accepted as if all was right with the world. He filled his tank while he looked around and noticed a few dogs lingering in front of the Mexican restaurant, but they did not seem to be paying him any attention. He finished, hopped back in the truck, and continued driving down the street.

Two raccoons scrambled across the road ahead of him, which caused the loitering dogs to take chase, and Graham let up on the gas to slow the truck as they ran in front of him and across the street. Once they were out of sight he continued on, not wanting to stop anywhere close to the animals while he looked for a decent bathroom.

Toward the end of town on the right was the Carnation Elementary School. Nothing but farm fields were farther down the street. He assumed the school doors were locked but pulled into the circular parking lot and got as close as possible to the front doors, providing for an easy getaway if they needed it. Part of him felt he was being paranoid, thinking of every contingency, but after the events of the past two days he just could not be too safe.

Graham put the truck in park, and Bang woke up and looked around, stretching. “Is this a school?” he asked as Macy woke her sister and even Sheriff popped his head up in back cargo area.

“Yep, but don’t worry, we’re just here to use the restrooms,” Graham said. “If we can, that is.” He looked around for any dangers that might lurk before he grabbed his rifle and opened the door. “You guys stay right here until I call you, and keep the doors closed.”

They all looked around through their windows for any signs of life as Graham approached the double glass doors. He was certain they’d be locked, but when he reached to try the right-hand door, it opened freely.
Thank God, I don’t have to shoot my way in
, he thought, and turned back to the kids, who watched him expectantly. He held up his hand to tell them to stay until he checked the inside of the school.

He walked in onto the blue rubber flooring. Hardly making a noise, he peered around the foyer, beyond what must be the office window, for the closest possible bathroom. The hall was a cheery place, with lots of natural light coming in the windows and had probably been remodeled recently. It smelled like crayons and disinfectant, like any elementary school. Graham knew the schools were shut down early in an effort to prevent the spread of the virus, but could not figure out why the doors had been left open. He listened intently and looked up and down the halls but did not leave the sight of the kids beyond the doorway. He noticed boys’ and girls’ bathrooms signs near the office, along the wall next to a water fountain, and walked back out to the truck after surveying the landscape for any possible dangers.

The coast appeared to be clear, so Graham opened Macy’s door and motioned to Bang to follow. “Close it lightly, and be quiet. We don’t want to attract any attention,” he said. Macy grabbed the first aid supplies for Marcy, as well as the empty water bottles. Bang took his bow and arrow, as always. Graham reached in, picked up Marcy, and called Sheriff out over the seat. Again, the dog did not respond and just looked up at him confused.

Macy patted her side and said, “Come, Sheriff.” He jumped quickly out of the back and onto the pavement.

Graham shook his head, confounded as to why the police dog didn’t know common commands. “Bang, lead him into the building,” he said.

The dog happily trailed the boy, sniffing at the new surroundings as Macy followed along.

“The bathrooms are right over there. Let’s get in and out and be quiet about it,” Graham said.

He could tell from their expressions that the kids felt as out of place as he did, sensed a wrongness. The need to be cautious in such a pleasant room, untouched by their new circumstances, went against the grain; it just did not seem right, juxtaposed as it was to the happy, colored balloons and the laminated cutouts of brown squirrels that were stapled to the walls. Marcy huffed a little, but no one said anything about it.

Sheriff sniffed the hallway from side to side but stayed close by the others. Graham took Marcy into the girls’ bathroom. He opened the swinging door and peered inside. There were two white wall-mounted sinks to the left and three stalls behind them; all appeared safe. He put Marcy down on her good leg and helped her over to the first stall. Macy came in right behind him. “When you’re done, let me know and I’ll come back in and change the dressing by the sink,” he said, letting the door close behind him. He and Bang went into the boys’ bathroom and did their business, leaving Sheriff out in the hallway. After they had washed up, Graham went over to the girls’ door and knocked lightly. “Are you ready?”