The China Pandemic (19 page)

When Graham awoke a few hours later and saw Macy sleeping still, he slipped off to the shower. He’d wake her when he was done so they could get their errand underway. He wanted to get the platforms built before the day was over and this night’s watch began.

After Macy was in the shower herself, he wandered into the dining room where Tala handed him a cup of black steaming coffee.

“This is going to be an adjustment for all of us,” she said.

“You don’t look so perky yourself,” he said.

“Well, Marcy scared me to death last night. I’m surprised you didn’t wake up. I heard her call out and I ran over there to find her trying to climb up a Madrona tree where a raccoon had chased her.” Graham choked a bit on his coffee at the thought.

They were both chuckling as Macy came out of the bathroom. “What’s so funny?” she asked.

“Oh nothing much, but ask your sister about raccoons when you see her,” he said, then turned his attention back to Tala. “Who’s where right now?”

“Marcy is taking her turn fishing with Bang on watch there and Ennis is by the entrance,” she said.

“Okay, that’s good,” he said. She’d made more biscuits and he went to grab one. She wrapped several in a cloth napkin and he went out onto the porch to enjoy his breakfast, waiting for Macy to get ready.

The morning mist gave way to blue skies just like the day before. They took the new truck and drove slowly with the windows down, listening and watching for anything to move as the dirt road gave way to pavement. At one point, Macy held up her hand to alert Graham to stop as a parade of four turkeys crossed in front of them without any sense of haste, puffing their black and white feathers out. They bobbed along with their red gizzard necks to the other side and into the brush beyond. A captive audience, they sat and watched the display.

“Should we go after them?” Macy asked.

“Not today, but we will soon. One turkey could feed us a week at least. My mother used to save the turkey carcasses after Thanksgiving and then boil them to make broth. We just have to be careful not to take too many of them at once.”

As he pulled up onto the blacktop driveway, Graham half expected the paperboy to pedal by and toss his bundle nearby at his feet. That’s how normal it all still felt here now, and he had to find a way to reconcile this vision with their current circumstances.

He listened and then waved for Macy to come along. They unlocked the door and he had Macy keep watch at the window while he went into the kitchen to retrieve the radios. It was quiet in there, too quiet, unlike the other day when they’d all been busy scavenging.

He opened the cupboard and saw the radios right away. These weren’t the cheap toy models either. Probably a Costco find. There were three units, perfect for their current needs. He also grabbed the charger base, just as Macy screamed, “Graham!”

He dropped everything, pulled up his rifle, and ran for her. He found her staring out the corner of the window, trying to be inconspicuous, “Come here,” she waved frantically.

He looked out the window and a drab green camo-painted jeep parked out front along the street. One man dressed in a dark blue hazmat suit with a respirator got out of the driver’s seat and stood guard while the passenger exited and went to the back.

“What the hell?”

As they watched through the window, the man in the back struggled with something. Macy turned the deadbolt, as if that would help against an intrusion. The driver could clearly see them observing, but made no motion to do anything but guard the jeep. Then, he shouted to the guy in the back and out came the man carrying a body, zip-tied at the hands and feet and with a black sack tied over its head. The captive person struggled.

“Shit,” Graham said.

“What are they doing?” Macy asked.

“I don’t know, honey,” he said.

The man carried the uncooperative body with some difficulty. He walked partway up the grassy yard and placed the body on its side while the driver aimed his weapon in their direction. The other pulled out what looked like a note and held it up for Graham to see, then dropped it on the body and walked away. They sped off quickly. By the time Graham got down the long drive, there was no sign of them.

He kneeled down by the body and untied the black bag over the head, pulling it off, revealing a blond boy of about sixteen struggling against the gag still in his mouth. When Graham tried to help him, the youth jerked away as much as the ties would let him, fear flaring in his brown eyes.

“I’m not going to hurt you,” Graham said.

The boy shook his head violently from side to side and pulled back again, tears forming in his eyes.

Graham pulled out his pocketknife and grabbed the back of the boy’s head, shoving it forward to release the gag.

With bruising on his cheeks and bloodshot eyes, the young man had clearly been abused.

“Are you a Prepper?” he asked as soon as he was able. His lips were cracked and bleeding, making it difficult for him to be understood. His mouth was probably dry as a bone inside, too, Graham thought.

“What? A Prepper? No,” Graham said, and reached for the note when he heard Macy approaching.

“Stay back, Macy,” he said. “Just wait there,” he said again.

He read aloud, “‘We took this boy after accidently killing the man he was with. He’s a carrier like you. We cannot keep him with us. We are making a goodwill gesture by turning him over to you. In return, we expect you to adhere to the attached map marking our territories. One encounter will kill us all. We voted to let you live. One act of defiance and we will exterminate all of you.

‘D. Harris, President, Cascade Prepper Assoc’.”

Graham folded the note, put it into his jacket pocket, and reached for the boy’s hand with the pocketknife. When he flinched away again, Graham said, “Now look, I’m trying to untie you, all right?”

After his arms had been freed, Graham helped him bring them around to the front. He knew the boy’s muscles must ache from struggling against being held in that same position. He cut the ankle bindings.

“Can you stand?” he asked him.

“I don’t know. My legs are really weak,” the boy said.

“What’s your name?”

“What’s yours?” the boy shot back.

Macy came around before Graham could answer and said, “Look, kid, he’s trying to help you. Don’t be such a loser.”

“It’s okay, Macy,” Graham said to her.

“Mark. My name’s Mark,”

“How old are you, Mark?”

“Sixteen.”

Graham touched his cheek. “Did those guys hurt you?”

“No, not really. I tried to get untied and fell face first on the floor of the shack they had me in,” said Mark.

“Did they feed you?” Graham asked while he and Macy helped him to the truck.

“Once a day they gave me an MRE. They said it was all they could spare on me,” Mark said.

“How’d they come across you?” Graham asked.

Mark lowered his head, breathing hard and Graham saw that he was trying not to cry.

“Macy, go in the house and get those radios and the charger that goes with them,” Graham said.

When she’d run back up the drive, Graham gave the boy’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. Tears filled the kid’s eyes.

“Umm, Mr. Bishop was the only one left here, so I stayed with him after my folks died. We saw these guys coming door to door one night from across the street and they were wearing blue hazmat suits. Mr. Bishop, he shot at one of them but missed. I told him not to. He didn’t listen and the one guy shot him. He was standing right beside me!”  Graham watched with sympathy as Mark turned white at the recollection of the terrifying ordeal. Mark turned his face away.

“Was he the man I found dead in the Camp Office Building?” Graham asked.

“Yeah, that’s where I dragged him and he died there on me. There was blood everywhere. I tried to stop it with my hands, but I couldn’t. Then I heard the guys arguing and they broke the door open and dragged me out of there. They blindfolded me, and the next thing I knew, I woke up tied to a chair in a wood shack somewhere. That was at least two weeks ago. Two different people came in every day in those suits, blindfolded me, took me somewhere to do my business, and then took me back into the shack. They gave me water in a bag with a straw and an MRE thing. They made me eat all of it quick, tied me back up, put me on a cot and left me till the next day. I heard one of them say I was a carrier and too dangerous to keep around,” Mark said.

It looked to Graham as if his statement drained everything out of him. It would be a while before the boy was healthy again, but he could see that he possessed an inner strength and was sure he’d be all right in the end. He heard Macy coming behind him. After she had put the equipment into the truck, she helped Graham walk Mark over to the cab. He practically lifted the emaciated boy into the seat and Macy stayed with him while Graham locked up the house again.

When he got back to the truck, Macy held the boy up who shook from the cold. “Why’d they do this to him?” she nearly yelled.

“We are carriers of the virus and they are still susceptible to it,” Graham explained.

“They almost killed me. I could hear them arguing about doing it,” Mark said through chattering teeth.

“That is the million dollar question. Why didn’t they? You were a great threat to them,” Graham said, as he put the truck in gear and drove back to the cabin.

They pulled up and took the boy inside. Graham watched anger flare in Tala’s dark, expressive eyes as she treated the bloody marks on Mark’s wrists and ankles, and exclaimed over his poor condition. She gave him a glass of water, told him to sip it slowly, and when it stayed down, made him a cup of hot tea. A few minutes later, she broke a couple of leftover biscuits, moistened them and fed them to him bit by bit. They sat him by the woodstove and piled extra blankets around him

Bang went up to him shyly and showed him his bow and arrow. Mark held it, felt the smooth wood, and smiled at the boy. He told him it was good and asked him to show him how to use it sometime.

Ennis called Graham outside to discuss the situation.

“What the hell happened to the new stray?” Ennis asked.

Graham explained in detail about the boy’s delivery and showed Ennis the note with the territory map.

Both men were breathing hard and angry. The old man had his hands on his hips and scuffed the ground with his boot. “This ain’t right,” he said after a bit.

“They should’ve killed him and us too. Why didn’t they?” he asked Graham.

“I don’t know. They sure as hell have the equipment and reason enough to do it. Why’d they keep the boy and go to the trouble to seek us out to keep him alive? We carry the virus that with one contact could wipe them out completely,” Graham said.

“Do we know where their camp is?” Ennis asked.

“I can only assume it’s somewhere in their territory.” He ran a finger around the edge of the map, “They kept the boy blindfolded so he doesn’t know where their base is.”

“You think he’s the one that left the bloody handprints at the Camp Ground Office,” Ennis asked.

“Yeah, the kid told me the guy he was with shot at one of them, and then they returned fire and killed him. They took him and kept him in a shed all this time, with these low temperatures at night. It’s a wonder he survived without even a blanket,” Graham said.

“It just don’t make sense.” Ennis said.

“I know. For now, I say let’s just get that kid past the hypothermia and fatten him up a little. It’s going to snow soon and getting through the winter might prove to be a bigger enemy than the Preppers at this point,” Graham said.

Graham started to walk away towards the cabin when Ennis called out, “We only have room for one more, Graham, so no more strays.”

Graham nodded and remembered to asked, “Who’s on watch?”

“Me and Marcy,” he said.

Ennis shuffled off to his hideout at the entrance in the woods, while Graham pulled out the radios and connected the battery packs, testing them to see if they worked properly.

~ ~ ~

Tala kept pouring warm tea into Mark, worried about dehydration. A bit later, she gave him some of the dried venison, and told him to eat it slowly. He tried to pull a chunk off with his teeth, winced, then tore it with his fingers into small pieces and chewed it with an expression on his face that made it clear he savored every bit of its sweet taste.

“When you want to, Mark, the bathroom is this way,” Tala pointed. “I’ve set out some clothing on the counter in there for you. You can take a warm shower if you like.”

The young man looked at Tala and said, “Thank you,” in a way that she knew he truly meant it.

She could see the pain in his young eyes. Like the other survivors, he’d suffered deeply, been through and witnessed too many things for a person his age. For a person of
any
age, she amended the thought. She stroked his head and, at first reluctant to receive caring of any sort, he jerked away. She murmured softly to him until he relaxed leaned against her, allowing her to hug him. He was sixteen, still just a boy, like her brothers had been.