The Land of the Shadow (31 page)

He nodded so she set up the microscope. It had a flashlight clamped beneath for illumination.

“Do you see those circular rings? Those are the parasite. But Justin, I can’t tell which one it is. My equipment just isn’t that precise.”

Justin considered. “She hasn’t had any convulsions or breathing problems, except for that one collapse in the field, but that could have been a simple faint induced by the heat.”

“Her other tests—the few I can do, like glucose—all came back normal.” Stacy picked up a small clipboard covered in scribbles. He presumed they were notes about Carly’s results, but there was no way he could read it.

“No sign of it being a complicated form as of yet.” Justin sent up a silent prayer of thanks to whatever gods might be listening.

Stacy rattled off the names of three drugs. “They combat the most common strains of malaria, so chances are they’d work. But we don’t have any of them.”

He knew that.

Stacy laid down the clipboard. “I spoke to Laura on my way over here and asked her to look for any cinchona trees or pinckneya in the area from which we could make quinine. We’ll find something, Justin. I’ll keep looking.”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Justin helped her pack up the microscope and locked the door behind her when she’d gone. Carly never locked doors, he reflected, but Justin always did. Sam followed him as he checked all of the doors and windows to make sure they were secure.

“Watch the house,” he said to the wolf. Sam stared back at him for a moment with those eerily sentient amber eyes and then laid down, his posture still but alert. Justin crouched down and gave his ears a rub before heading back downstairs.

He should have been out working on the siege preparations, or helping to harvest the oats, or helping with the increased patrols of the Wall, but Justin couldn’t bear to leave his spot beside Carly’s bed.

Days had passed. Weeks maybe. He wasn’t sure. Time had ceased to matter except as it marked the cycles of Carly’s illness.

When the fever broke, she’d recovered briefly, and felt better for two or three days. She’d wanted to get up then, wanted to send him out to do the thousands of things that begged for his attention. At her urging, Justin had answered the door—it seemed someone was always knocking with a question, a complaint, a plea for advice.

Pearl was handling the security aspects, and very well from what he heard. Grady and she clashed on occasion, but they managed between the two of them. Stan was handling the oat harvest, and Miz Marson was supervising the threshing. The Reverend had taken over for the social duties Carly had always taken on, resolving minor conflicts, doling out advice, and making sure people who were struggling had caring support. He’d come by a couple of times to pray for Carly. Justin wasn’t much of a believer in prayer’s efficacy, but he knew the Reverend was, and if it made the old guy feel better, Justin was willing to allow it.

Justin should have been out searching for drugs, traveling far distances to find the medication that would cure Carly, but he couldn’t make himself leave her side. He cursed himself a thousand times and told himself he was failing her, but his fear held him in place. Her illness, the threat of Marcus’s group . . . he was afraid of what might happen in his absence.

The surrounding countryside was stripped of drugs—anything useful, that was. The narcotics, of course, had vanished almost immediately, but people had since discovered the value of other medicines as trade goods. The antimalarial drugs needed to cure Carly might be in someone’s backpack, however no travelers had come to Colby for a while . . . not since Marcus’s group had settled in the area.

Pharmacies . . . doctor’s offices. He didn’t know how far afield he would have to range to get the drugs, how long he would be gone. Anything could happen in that time. Anything.

He held her hand, more for his own comfort than hers, as though he could keep her from slipping away if he kept a tight grip. Her hand was dry and hot within his own, and her fingers twitched in her dreams, but other than that, she was silent and still, her only movement the light rise and fall of her chest.

She had always teased him for his paranoia that something would happen to her—his insistence on security, the smoke alarms . . . all of it—and now to have her attacked by the most insidious enemy of all? One he could not fight or protect her from?

Carly believed everything happened for a reason. So, what lesson was he supposed to gather from this? He wanted to scream and rage at the universe: “
I get it. You can take her from me at any time
.” He knew that they lived in a state of constant vulnerability. He knew that he had no control over their fate. It was a lesson he was pretty sure he had already memorized.

He heard a rattle from upstairs, the sound of someone trying to open the door, and then a knock. Sam’s claws clicked on the linoleum as he went to investigate, but there was no growl. Justin laid Carly’s hand down on the bed and pressed a kiss to her forehead before going upstairs. His urge was to ignore it, but duty pulled at him, reluctant though he may be to leave Carly’s side.

He opened the door to find Mindy standing on the porch. Dagny was in her arms, and she let out a squeal of delight when she saw him. Justin took his daughter into his arms and peered down at her tear-soaked and reddened little face.

“What’s all this?” he asked and pulled up the hem of his T-shirt to dab at her cheeks. Dagny’s breath hitched with fading sobs.

“Well, to put it politely, she threw a fit,” Mindy said. “A knock-down, all-out screaming fit. She cried so hard, I was afraid she’d make herself sick. She wanted her mama and dada and wouldn’t take no for an answer.”

Dagny hiccupped. Justin finished wiping her face and gave her a kiss on the forehead. “Poor Daggers. Your whole little life has been tipped upside down. Come on. We’ll go see Mama.”

He carried her down the stairs and sat down on the edge of the bed. Carly opened her eyes when Dagny squealed. Justin let her go, and she crawled across the bed to her mother and patted her cheek with more eagerness than gentleness. Carly caught her waving arm and used it to draw the baby to her for a snuggle.

“I’ve missed you.” She cast a worried glance up at Justin. “Dagny can’t catch anything, can she?”

“No, if anything, her germs are more of a risk to you with your battered immune system.”

“I’ll risk it.” Carly smiled, and it made his heart ache when he realized he hadn’t seen that smile in a long while now. “Lie down with us.” Carly patted the edge of the bed, and Justin wasn’t going to turn that invitation down. He lay down on the edge of the bed, Dagny between them, jabbering and laughing. No one would have guessed she’d been bawling a few minutes ago.

It didn’t take long before Carly was worn out. He took Dagny back upstairs to Mindy, who’d taken the opportunity to snoop through all of the cabinets. “You didn’t tell me you were almost out of food.”

Justin shrugged. “Carly can only stomach soup right now, and I’ve been eating the leftovers. Without Kaden here, our grocery needs are about a tenth of what they were.”

Mindy grinned. “I’m convinced that boy has a tapeworm. Maybe two.” She took Dagny back from Justin, though the baby gave a shriek of protest.

“Sorry, Daggers,” Justin said softly. He wished he could promise her she would come home when her mother was better, but when would that be? He followed them to the door. Dagny wailed and writhed in Mindy’s arms, reaching back over her shoulder toward Justin. His heart ached, even as he forced himself to go back inside.

“Justin?” Pearl tapped on the door frame. He turned back around.

“Hey,” he said.

“I’m sorry, I haven’t had a chance to get over here.” She gave him a little apologetic smile. “How’s Carly doing?”

“She has malaria,” Justin said. He was too tired to try to soften it.

Pearl nodded. “That’s what the Reverend told us. I wanted to ask you if there are any medicines I could go look for that would help her. I could check the nearby clinics and pharmacies.”

“Cleaned out.”

Pearl chewed on her bottom lip, then snapped her fingers. “I may know of one that hasn’t been hit.” She went into the kitchen and returned with a phone book.

Justin wondered why in the world Carly would have kept such a thing. “Where did you find that?”

Pearl gave him a little grin. “In her cabinet, under
p
for
phone book
.” She flipped through the pages and then pointed at a line.

“What’s this?” Justin asked. He peered at the line of dark print and then closed one eye to try to force it into focus.

“Oh, sorry . . . forgot. This is a listing for Rutgers Supply Company. It’s outside of Blanchard. I told you I had an aunt living down here, right? Well, her son worked for Rutgers.”

“What is it?”

“Distribution center for a mail-order pharmacy company. My cousin drove a forklift there. They supplied several mail-order firms, so it seems like they should have a variety. It’s worth a shot, anyway.”

“Okay, but they’ve probably been looted to the bare walls.”

Pearl shook her head. “I don’t know about that. It doesn’t say
drugs
anywhere in their name, and I drove by there with my aunt once a few years ago. The building itself is nondescript, tucked away off a side road in the middle of nowhere. If people didn’t know it was there or what kind of business it was, they might never realize it was even there. It’s a chance, Justin. Maybe the best chance we have in this area.”

Justin suddenly understood what Carly had meant when she said hope could be a terrible thing. He glanced back to the partially-closed basement door, and the pain of being separated from Carly now was like a fist in his gut. But he had to do it.

“How long do you think it will take me to get there?”

“You’re not going,” Pearl replied.

He stared at her. “Of course I am. Who else—”

“You can’t. You’re needed here. Carly needs you, and the town needs you in case there’s an attack.” Pearl stood and laid the phone book on the counter. “I’m going.”

“But you don’t know what to get.”

“Make me a list. You give me the wagon, and I’ll fill it up with anything that looks interesting. If this is happening to Carly, I have a feeling we’re going to encounter it with others, so we’d better stock up.”

Justin hesitated, and Pearl sighed. “Justin, you’re needed here. Carly needs you, but the town needs you even more for defense. If Marcus is waiting for a perfect time, it would be while you’re gone.”

“You could do it,” Justin said.

“Yeah, I could lead them, but I wouldn’t have their trust the way you do. That only comes with time. You stay here, where you’re needed, Justin. I’ll be back before you know it.”

He followed her toward the door. “Wait.”

She watched as he opened one of the closets, pulled back the carpet and lifted out the floor board. From the cavity below, he pulled out a submachine gun and a small duffle bag. He handed both to her. “Full auto,” he said, “so watch your ammo. One pull on the trigger will empty your clip.”

She smiled at him. “Thanks, Justin. From your personal stash—I’m touched. I’ll head out today. The sooner she gets those meds, the better. I’ll go grab my bag from home and come back in an hour or so.”

He didn’t reply. Words had escaped him. He still hadn’t worked out how to tell her how grateful he was by the time she came back.

She followed him out of the house and across the wide expanse of lawn to the barn. Shadowfax and Storm were grazing, both of them fastened to what appeared to be dog tie-out lines screwed down into the soil.

“Carly’s idea,” he said, casting Pearl a rueful smile over his shoulder. “She’s paranoid about these horses getting hurt.” He unfastened Shadowfax and led her into the barn where the wagon waited. Pearl helped him harness the horse, partially to demonstrate to him that she knew how to do it, and then climbed up to the driver’s seat.

“I’ll take good care of her,” Pearl said.

“I know.” Justin patted Shadowfax on her shoulder, and the mare lowered her head to snuffle at him.

“Twenty-four hours, tops.”

“Seventy-two,” Justin said. “After that, I’m coming after you.”

Pearl gave him a small grin. “Just to get the horse, right?”

Justin shook his head. “To get my friend.”