This Shattered Land - 02 (40 page)

BOOK: This Shattered Land - 02
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“I
want you to know I’m proud of you, son. You’ve had to deal with a hell of a
lot, and things are only going to get harder from here on out. Just remember
what I told you. Remember to believe in yourself, and never forget to believe
in the people who care about you. That’s the best advice I can give you.”

He
took his hands from my face and pulled me into a strong embrace. I hugged him
as hard as I could, blinking back tears and trying to breathe through the lump
in my throat. He even smelled like he did when I was a kid, expensive cologne
and hickory smoke.

“I
love you Dad.” I choked out.

My
father leaned back and held me by the shoulders. “I love you too, son, and I’ll
always be with you.”

He
gave me one last smile and then turned to walk away. I tried to follow, but my
legs wouldn’t move. I struggled in vain, rooted to the spot.

“Wait,
Dad, don’t go!”

It
was too late. The fire dimmed into a dull orange glow, and my father’s
silhouette vanished into the gathering darkness. My sight went dark, and I felt
myself falling…falling… and then—

“He’s
waking up.”

 

 

 

Chapter 13

 

The Journal of Gabriel Garrett:

Scar Tissue

 

Things
have gone about as well as I could have hoped for since we got here. Brian’s
leg is on the mend, and my shoulder is healing up nicely. Eric, however, was in
serious trouble for a while there. The bullet that tore through his side caused
significant internal bleeding and put him at risk of a life-threatening
infection. Our supply of antibiotics kept the wound from festering, but he came
frighteningly close to dying of blood loss. The doctor spent a couple of hours
working to repair the damage by stitching him up on the inside where the
bleeding was the worst. Thankfully, he remained unconscious throughout the
operation.

The
reception we received from the people of Hollow Rock has not been universal.
Some folks were kind to us, and put us up in an unoccupied doublewide trailer
inside the town’s security perimeter. Others regard us with suspicion, and have
made it clear they do not want anything to do with us. Steve vouched for our
honesty by telling anyone who would listen how we took out nearly two dozen
Free Legion raiders, but we still get suspicious stares when we walk down the
street. Most folks are content to leave us well enough alone, and that is just
fine with me. I don’t want to be here any longer than it takes to get my group
healthy and ready to move on.

 The
local sheriff, a lean, hawkish-looking man with a stern face and a big pearl
handled Colt revolver, took our cart into custody for ‘inspection’. I advised
him that I knew exactly everything that was inside of it, and would be doing a
thorough inventory when (not if) he returned it to us. He smiled at that and
assured me nothing would be taken, so long as it didn’t pose a threat to the
community. We shook on that. True to his word, he had one of his deputies
deliver it back to us the next day.

Doctor
Allison Laroux (pronounced la-roo) was not at all what I was expecting when she
met us at the front gate. Maybe I’m just stupid, but I always picture doctors
as old men with white coats and sour expressions. Doctor Laroux is a
brown-haired little slip of a girl who prefers jeans and work boots rather than
scrubs, and wears a big Taurus pistol on her hip everywhere she goes. She
handled Eric’s surgery with a confidence and clear-minded intelligence that
belied her youthful appearance. A couple of days later she told me that Eric
would most likely make it. I thanked her, and asked her what I could do to pay
her back.

“I’ll
leave that up to the Mayor.” She said. “If it were up to me, we wouldn’t ask
for anything, but it’s not my decision to make.”

“They
don’t let you decide what to charge for your services around here?” I asked,
feeling a little uneasy.

She
laughed and waved the comment away. “Of course they do, I just don’t charge
anything. The Mayor understands how valuable a doctor is, even one who only
graduated from med school three years ago. The town voted on a referendum last
year to allow her office to charge travelers a fee for any services provided by
the town’s registered citizens. Almost everyone voted in favor of it. She
doesn’t usually invoke it unless someone has something that the town
desperately needs.”

I
didn’t like the sound of that. “Like what?”

Allison
smiled at me. “Used to be weapons, but we have plenty of those now. These days
its medicine, antibiotics, valuable job skills, things like that.”

I
groaned inwardly. Sheriff Elliott had no doubt discovered our large cache of
medical supplies and painkillers. We’d planned on using them mostly for
ourselves and for trade, but not this soon into the journey. If the Mayor
decided to confiscate it, there would be nothing we could do to stop her. Not
without bloodshed, at least.

“I
take it I should expect a visit from someone on the Mayor’s behalf?” I said.

The
young doctor shook her head. “No, she likes to handle things like this face to
face. She’s out of town for another couple of weeks visiting family over in
Bruceton, but I’d expect her to want to see you as soon as she gets back.”

“Great.”
I grumbled.

“Don’t
worry Mr. Garrett, Liz is a reasonable woman. Everything will be fine, you’ll
see.”

I
nodded. Allison patted me on the shoulder and went off to make her rounds.

We
still had a good supply of food in the cart, but had little need to utilize it.
As soon as the Sheriff found out that Tom had a general contractor’s license, he
offered him a job doing repair work around town. Tom happily accepted. The work
suits him, and he seems much happier than he’s been since I first met him. He
never looked very comfortable in tactical gear, but he looks right at home in a
tool belt. In exchange for the work he provides, the Sheriff pays him with his
choice of food from the town’s ample supplies. Thanks to Tom, we’ve eaten
better in the last few days than we have in weeks.

Two
days ago, Tom brought home a sack of potatoes, vegetable oil, and two whole chickens.
Doctor Laroux stopped by to let us know that Eric had healed enough to receive visitors,
and joined us for a dinner of fried chicken and French fries. I set aside a
plate for Eric and walked over to the clinic after supper to give it to him.

The
clinic was multi-use medical office space before the Outbreak. The townsfolk
consolidated the medical supplies into the basement of a nearby building to
keep them temperature controlled, and put beds in the rooms for patients. Eric
was the only person there when I stopped by other than the security guard
working the night shift. I wiped my boots on the mat in front of the entrance
before walking inside.

“Stop
and state your business.” The guard said, standing up from behind his desk. He
was clean cut, armed with an M-4 carbine, and wore a Marine Corps digicam
uniform with a sheriff’s deputy badge over his left breast pocket. His nametag
read ‘Cohen’.

“Just
bringing some food for my friend.” I said, holding up the foil covered plate in
my hand.

“You
one of the people that just came into town?” He asked.

I
nodded. “Yeah. ‘Bout a week ago.”

“Haven’t
seen you around.”

“Doctor
Laroux told us not to come around ‘till she gave the word. Said she was worried
about infection.”

“What’s
your name?”

“Gabriel
Garrett.”

The
guard relaxed, letting his rifle fall back down to his side. “So your Tom’s
friend. Come on in.”

I
crossed the small lobby and stopped in front of the desk to offer him a handshake.
“That uniform you’re wearing really belong to you?”

He
smiled. “Just got back from my first deployment when the shit hit the fan. I
was visiting with my folks when everything started. The Corps tried to call me
back, but…” he shrugged.

“Hey,
you won’t find any judgment here. I’d have done the same thing.”

Cohen
seemed relieved at that. “Is it true what Tom said about you being a sniper?”

I
nodded. “Used to be. Now I’m just trying to get by, same as everybody else.”

The
young deputy regarded me in silence for a moment, then jerked his head toward
the hallway on my left. “Your friend is back that way, room nineteen.”

“Thanks,
I appreciate it.”

“No
problem.” Cohen sat back down behind his desk. I started down the hall.

“Me
and some other guys have a poker game every Saturday night at Mike Stall’s
place,” Cohen called over his shoulder, “right down the street from where you
and your friends are staying. Ol’ Mike makes his own hooch. You’re welcome to
join in this weekend, if you want.”

I
stopped and turned halfway around. “I might do that.”

Cohen
gave me a thumbs-up, and resumed his vigil.

Eric
sat propped up in his bed by a pile of pillows. His skin had regained its
color, and his eyes were clear as he watched me walk into the room.

“Well
you’re a sight for sore eyes.” He said, grinning and staring at the plate in my
hand. “Whatcha got there?”

“Got
some crispy chicken and French fries. Figured an Irishman like yourself
wouldn’t want to miss out on fresh potatoes.”

 “Damn
right I wouldn’t.” He peeled the foil from his plate and dug in. I took a seat
on a straight-backed chair and watched him eat.

“Oh
my God,” He said, leaning back with a half-eaten drumstick in one hand and
chewing on a mouthful of fries. “I’m in heaven. I’ve died and gone to heaven.
There’s only one thing that could make this more perfect.”

“Biscuits
and six pack of cold beer?”

He
paused. “Um…that’s actually two things. I was going to say a glass of water.”
He pointed to a pitcher on a small table across the room.

I
got up and poured some of the clean water into a red plastic cup. Eric took it
from me and washed down his chicken.

“So
how’s Brian? His leg healing okay?” He asked.

“Doing
just fine. He’s a tough kid.” I replied.

“Damn
right. His parents should be proud.”

“They
are, believe me.”

Eric
set his plate down in his lap and stared at me for a long moment. “How’s
Sarah?”

“She’s
doing fine. Spends most of her time doting on her little boy.”

“And
Tom? How’s he making out?”

I
chuckled. “The Sheriff put him on retainer as a contractor for the city.
Already rebuilt half the damn town.”

My
friend nodded. “That’s good. I hate to say it, but he just doesn’t seem like a
fighting man to me. Not that he’s a coward or anything, I just think he’s
better at building things than shooting.”

“I
agree.” I said. “He’s already made a lot of friends around here. You can thank
him for your dinner next time you see him.”

“Allison
tells me you guys are all staying together not far from here.” He replied,
setting his plate down on the table beside him.

I
nodded. “Yeah, we are. I gotta tell you though, I’m starting to feel like the
fifth wheel around there. I get the feeling Tom and Sarah wouldn’t be too
heartbroken to see me move out.”

Eric
looked down for a moment before he responded. “They owe you a lot. So do I, for
that matter.”

“None
of you owe me anything. I did what I did because it was the right thing to do.”

“That’s
not true. None of us would be alive if it weren’t for you.”

I
didn’t know what to say to that, so I just shook my head and stared at the
floor.

“Enjoy
your dinner, bud.” I said as I stood up to leave. “Doc says you can get out of
here tomorrow. I’ll come by to get you in the morning.”

Eric
nodded. “Okay. See you then.”

I
stepped back out into the darkening evening and waved to Cohen on my way past
the front desk. The streets were quiet and empty on the walk back to my
temporary home. Tom and Sarah sat on the living room floor playing Monopoly
with Brian by candlelight as I stepped through the front door.

“Hey
Gabe!” Brian said, holding up a gamepiece. “Wanna be the racecar?”

I
shut the door behind me and gave him a weak smile. “Not tonight, amigo. I’m
beat. Gonna get some shuteye.”

“How’s
Eric?” Tom asked.

“Doing
fine.” I replied. “I’m going by the clinic tomorrow morning to get him.”

“Will
he need help getting here?” Sarah asked.

“No.”
I said, shaking my head. “He’s doing pretty well. He should be able to get here
under his own power.”

We
shared an awkward silence for a few moments. I could tell what Tom and Sarah
were thinking; they wanted their space. I understood. I resolved to talk to Eric
about it again after he’d had a couple more days of rest.

BOOK: This Shattered Land - 02
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