Suffer the Children (40 page)

“Doug’s on his way over to the doctor’s house to talk to him. He’s been drinking, and I’m scared it could get a little rough. Your house is on the way, so I was wondering if you might come along. I think if you were there, Doug wouldn’t do anything crazy.”

“Really,” said Ramona. It was a ridiculous request.

“I really don’t think he’d do anything if you were there.”

“That’s comforting.”

After a long pause, Joan sighed and said, “I’m sorry I called. It was a stupid thing to ask you to take a risk for me.”

Ramona forced a smile. “I’d love to help you!”

Mitch would have to wait.

“Oh, thank God.”

“For a pint of medicine.”

“We don’t have any medicine!”

“You said you had a friend who was donating.”

Joan’s voice turned hard. “If he donates, you can have it all.”

“I’ll be ready. Honk when you get here.”

Ramona hung up and went to the basement door. She put her ear against it and listened.

She heard fingernails gently scratching at the wood. She recoiled at the sound.

“Josh,” she whispered. “My little man.”

Even after everything, he could still terrify her.

44 days after Resurrection

Joan slowed her Dodge Durango just enough for Ramona to open the door and drop into the passenger seat. Then she took off.

“Thank you for coming,” Joan said.

“No problem. I was glad to get out of the house. Mind telling me what’s going on?”

Joan did. She told her everything. Ramona took it all in without a word.

“We were settled,” Joan finished. “We were going to let the kids go. I just don’t know what Doug thinks he’s accomplishing.”

“It sounds to me like he’s fighting for his family,” Ramona said.

Joan wondered about that. While it was true Doug never went around looking for a fight, he certainly didn’t mind an excuse to get into one. “Getting drunk and losing control is not fighting for your family. He’s fighting for himself.”

Ramona shrugged. “You’re talking about method. The result is the same.”

Joan narrowed her eyes at that. She glanced at Ramona. Why wasn’t she backing her up? “He can pick a fight with somebody else. That doctor and his wife helped us more than I could ever put into words. I won’t have Doug going over there and beating up the guy for it.”

“I’m going to tell you something personal that is a little painful to
say, so listen carefully,” Ramona said. “Before Herod’s syndrome, I failed Josh. I failed him so many times.”

Joan hated this kind of talk. “No, you didn’t—”

“You don’t know me, Joan,” Ramona said, almost shouting, then resumed at her normal volume. “You really don’t. I’m not like you. I’m a single mom, and even if I weren’t, I still wouldn’t be like you. Even if I didn’t have the job.”

“There’s nothing special about me. You’re—”

“
Listen
,” Ramona said, shutting her up. “This is not like before, where we lied to ourselves and other people all the time. We’re past all that now, don’t you think?”

Joan stared at the road and nodded.

“There were so many times I was too tired to play with him. Too distracted by work to really listen. Too irritated by his tantrums and sickliness to be
present
. Understand? But not now. I look back sometimes, and I can’t believe what used to matter to me. The things I used as excuses to get away. Not now. This is a different time. A purer time. I’ve never known such clarity. The only thing that matters is blood.” She added, inspired, “The blood that binds.”

Joan shook her head. “No,” she whispered.

“You don’t see it. Doug sees it. Many other people do too. More every day. It’s almost impossible to get blood now. People have their backs up against the wall. There’s a war coming. What’s the word?
Fratricide.
Things are about to get even simpler.”

Joan gripped the wheel. “It’s not going to be like that. We’re not savages.”

“It takes time for things to break down. But they will. They already are. For most people who have children, there’s only one choice left. Let their children die, or kill for them.”

Joan thought about what she’d seen on the TV. American soldiers shooting at each other. “What about you, with all this tough talk? Are you going to fight in this war?”

Ramona said, “Who says I’m not already?”

Joan realized she didn’t really know the person in the car with her.

“So let’s all kill each other,” she said bitterly. “What about me? Would you kill me? I asked you for help tonight because I thought we were friends.”

“Friends,” Ramona said, as if she’d never heard the word before. She didn’t say anything more for a while. “We have a bond, Joan. We bonded after the children died.”

“I feel—”

“But I didn’t push you out of my body. I didn’t make you from nothing. I didn’t give you years of my life. We’re not the same blood. Do you think anything can compare with that?”

“I see you’ve thought it all through,” Joan said.

Ramona turned to look at her. Her eyes gleamed in the dark. “What else is there to think about?”

“But it’s crazy. All of it. It’s crazy.”

“
Crazy
,” said Ramona. She clearly hated the word. “It’s not
crazy
, Joan. It’s survival.”

They drove the rest of the way in silence.

44 days after Resurrection

Doug pulled up to the curb and killed the engine. He sat in the dark for a while, watching the Harris home. He was a little surprised by the digs. He’d expected to find the doctor and his cute little wife living in a big fancy mansion instead of this modest Tudor house.

He flicked his smoke out the window and lit another. Leo Boon sang:
Look away from the cross to that glittering crown.
Yes, sir. Yes, sir, indeed. He turned it off and took a long snort on his flask, closing his
eyes as he swallowed, breathing through the burn. From the seat next to him, he picked up the cold black crowbar—the weapon that had brought him luck during his first blood heist—and hefted it.

Empties spilled out of the truck with a clatter as he opened the door. It was time to have a little talk with the good doctor, man to man. He thrust the crowbar in his belt behind his back. He emptied his flask with a final pull and tossed it into the truck. Then he approached the front door of the house along the neatly shoveled walk.

He’d scrapped the idea of going in there with a plan. The idea of throwing the dice excited him. His face was killing him. He was tired of the constant pain. He wanted to lose control and let the winner take all. Doug was prepared to gamble everything he had, but that was nothing to a man like him, a man who no longer had anything to lose.

He rang the doorbell. A shape moved in the window. The porch light turned on.

“Open up, doc,” he said quietly, displaying calm before the storm.

44 days after Resurrection

David turned on the porch light and stepped back, the reassuring weight of his gun in the pocket of his bathrobe. His heart galloped in his chest; his breath came in shallow gasps. Cotton-mouthed, he peered out of one of the curtained windows framing the door.

“Mr. Cooper, is that you?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“What happened to you? Are you all right?”

“I got mugged a few days back. For my blood. I got a great, big cut on my head.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. If you drop by the office tomorrow, I could take a look at it for you.”

“I didn’t come here for that. I came here to talk to you about my kids.”

David checked the lock. He placed his hands against the door and leaned against it. “I’m afraid I’ve said everything I have to on that subject.”

“Five minutes, doc. It’s important.”

“Go home, Mr. Cooper.”

He almost added,
Or I’ll call the police!
It only reminded him how isolated he was. This was how Ben felt, he knew, just before he died. Like his back was pushed against the wall so hard he couldn’t breathe.

Before he could stop himself, he slammed his palms against the door with a loud thump. “Go home, I said!”

The police had terrorized him for days. Now this overbearing giant had showed up at his house trying to bully him. David was tired of being pushed.

Nothing happened. He waited with his head pressed against the door. He heard nothing. He glanced at Nadine, who stared at him from the couch, her hands covering her mouth. She shook her head.
Don’t open the door.

David shrugged. “I guess he left.”

He staggered back as the decorative window on the left shattered, spraying glass across the hardwood. Moments later, a hand reached in and groped for the lock. David stared at it in dumb shock. The inconceivable was happening. His home was actually being invaded.

The hand found the lock, which turned with a click.

The door opened, and Doug Cooper stepped into David’s house, reeking of alcohol and gripping a crowbar.

44 days after Resurrection

The doctor reeled away from him, looking pathetic in his bathrobe and slippers and old T-shirt. Without his tie and lab coat, he was just a tired, middle-aged man. The nurse sat on the couch wearing oversized men’s pajamas. She gaped up at him with doe eyes.

Doug closed the door behind him. His boots crunched on broken glass. He felt a little silly after briefly inspecting the damage he’d done, but it was too late to turn back now. He was already committed. The dice were still in the air.

“I’m sorry to bust your window, doc. But you weren’t listening to me. I need you to listen.”

The doctor and his wife just stared at him. Doug hadn’t expected that. He felt even sillier.

“Here’s how it is,” he explained. “You take blood from my friend. Two pints. Then I’ll be out of your hair for good. You’ll never see me again.”

“Mr. Cooper,” David rasped. “You’re the one who’s not listening.”

Doug scowled. “What the fuck did you just say to me?”

The doctor licked his dry lips. “We helped you. We helped you, and this is how you repay us. By breaking into our home like a common criminal!”

“You do my friend, and we’re good. I’ll call him right now.”

“We’ve done enough. All we want now is to be left alone!”

Doug shook his head. “You heard the news. A substitute is on the way. We hang on a few more weeks, and we could have our kids back forever. They’ll grow up. Maybe our son will even be a fancy doctor like you.”

“Whatever they’ve got, they said it’s not going to be ready for a month,” the doctor told him. “Then they have to start production. There are
millions
of children. It could be months, even years, before you see a drop of it. It’s a lie, Mr. Cooper. A lie to give you false hope.”

Doug blinked. The doctor was making sense.

But none of it mattered.

“Don’t care,” he said. “We want our two pints. It’s the only chance we’ve got. Our kids are about to pass on. They need the medicine. It has to be done soon. Tonight.”

“And how are your kids, Mr. Cooper? What are they like now? Are they changing?”

He tightened his grip on the crowbar and snarled, “Don’t you talk shit about my kids.”

The doctor was going to say what Joan said. They were changing. They were monsters. They weren’t worth saving. Doug could take it from his wife but not this man.

Behind him, the door opened wider, and in walked Joan with Ramona Fox.

“Doug!” she said. “Doug, no more of this! You did enough here. Come home with me!”

“It’s too late for that, Joanie.”

It truly was. When he turned back, the doctor was pointing a gun at his face.

44 days after Resurrection

David felt new confidence holding the gun. One of the first things he’d learned during his firearm course was never point a gun at a human being unless you were willing to shoot him dead. He was okay with that right now. Either way, he’d already taken back some control of his life by simply exercising the choice.

Nadine stared at the gun. “I’ll help you, Mr. Cooper. I’ll draw your friend’s blood.”

“No, you won’t,” David told her, his eyes locked on Doug Cooper’s.

“But the
children
—”

“Are
dead
!” David said. “They’re gone!”

“No,” Nadine said with a shake of her head. “That’s not true.”

“The children are becoming vampires. Isn’t that right, Mr. Cooper?”

“They’ve gone wild,” said Joan. “Tell him, Doug. They barely even know us anymore.”

“I know them,” said Doug.

“Doug, listen to me,” his wife said, persisting. “This is crazy, what you’re doing here. Crazy and pointless. He’s right. We don’t need the blood. Come home to me, babe. I need you home.”

“Stay out of this, Joanie.” The big man took a step closer. “Let’s try that listening again, doc. Because what I’m going to say is pretty important. Here’s how it is. Either you take my friend’s blood, or I’m going to take yours. Right fucking now.”

“All for a few hours with children who don’t even know you anymore,” David said. He kept the gun leveled at the man’s chest. “Is that worth a man’s life, Mr. Cooper?”

“I think we’re on a first-name basis now, doc. And yes, it is. Even yours.”

David remembered to flick off the safety.
Red means dead.
“Then the real parasite is you.”

Nadine sobbed. “David,
please
—”

I can’t shoot
, David thought. He took a step back and wiped sweat from his forehead. The gun trembled in his hand. Doug matched him by taking another step closer.

If I give in, this man will own me, and so will Herod.

“
Doug, stop this right now!
” Joan screamed.

A wave of calm washed over David.
He actually wants me to do it.

“This doesn’t have to happen,” he said. “You can still walk out of here with your life.”

Doug inspected the crowbar in his hand and looked David in the eye. “This is my last chance.”

I just wanted to help people.