Family Reunion "J" (14 page)

When Auddy and Danny had shown up, he saw them on the closed circuit TV. He had been stuck in the office for three days. He had water but hadn’t eaten anything, his dad had gone bonkers, and there was no escape Doug could figure out. When Auddy called him on the intercom, he saw his chance and took it.

He piped the intercom to the hallway where his dad was prowling. The second time, Auddy had used it. His dad went nuts trying to get at the speaker above the back door. He unlocked the back door from the office and Danny had taken the bait. When the door opened, his dad attacked. That they had survived was just dumb luck.

Now he had a woman, his dad was taken care of, and soon he would kill that stupid shit Danny. That bitch Auddy had snubbed him after only a few dates. He’d show her what she had passed on. He got hard just thinking about what he was going to do to her. She would love it though, just like the skank he took at his cousin’s party. The dumb bitch couldn’t even speak English, worked at one of the resorts cleaning rooms. She had said no, but he could tell she wanted it, and boy had he given it to her. He chuckled at the thought of her screams as he’d fucked her.

Auddy felt Danny’s arm move. She had dozed off and now it took her a minute to remember where she was and what had happened. She raised her head and looked at Danny squinting against the fluorescent light. She saw Danny’s eyes flutter. She sat up. “Danny? Can you hear me?” She gently lifted his head and poured some water into his mouth. He managed to get it down, so she gave him a bit more. When she raised the bottle a third time, he reached up with his hand and weakly grasped her arm. He licked his lips and tried to say something. She bent her head to his and listened closely. It sounded like “dog luct doo.” “What Danny? What are you saying?”

He strained, raising his head off the table. “Doog locd dooer.” Then he passed out again.

She sat there repeating the words over and over in her mind.
Doog locd dooer, doog locked dooer, something about a lock.
Then she said it out loud. “Doug locked door.” Her heart began to race. Doug had not locked the door. Doug had
unlocked
the door. The buzzer was the remote electronic release of the back door’s lock. The door had buzzed, which is what prompted them to open it. He had purposefully lured them into letting his dad out to save himself.

The hair on the back of her neck rose up and she felt flushed. She looked up and for the first time saw the camera in the corner of the room. She tried not to look directly at it. Doug couldn’t hear what she had said. She wondered if the picture was good enough that he could read her lips when she had said it. She went to the sink and poured water from a bottle over some paper towels, more to give herself time to think and turn her face away from the camera than any other reason. She turned back, went to Danny, and mopped his face where the bandages allowed. “Just rest Danny, I’m here,” she said.

Doug watched her from the office. He had seen the whole exchange. Danny coming around, her waking and giving him water. The way she sat unmoving for a couple of minutes, then she said something. What did she say? He could have sworn her lips formed his name. He stood and retrieved the syringe he had prepared earlier. It contained enough morphine to stop Danny’s weakened heart. Time to end him.

Auddy heard Doug coming down the hall. She tensed, then forced herself to breathe.
You can’t let him know you know
she thought as he walked into the room.

“How’s our patient doing?” Doug asked in a cheerful tone.

Auddy’s mouth was as dry as cotton. She blurted out, “Good, he was awake for a minute,” then bit her lip.

“Well, that’s great,” he said as he produced the syringe from his shirt pocket. “My dad was a prepper. He had these antibiotics stashed just in case the government crashed and the world went to shit. Who’d have ever thought it would really happen.” He moved toward Danny.

He heard the hammer click back on the revolver. “Don’t even think about it, Doug.”

He turned to see Auddy pointing the pistol at his chest. “Auddy, come on, what are you doing?” he said, taking a step toward her. “We have to make sure his wound doesn’t become infected.” He took another step.

He lunged at her over the table. She stepped away, but he was able to knock the gun downward. She’d been holding it with both hands and he now had her right wrist in his left hand, the syringe in his right. Instead of fighting him, she pulled the gun down and away from him with her left hand. He swung his right hand down, sinking the needle into her arm. She screamed as the warmth of the morphine entered her arm. Doug smiled at her just before she shot him in the throat with her left hand.

Both his hands went to his throat, trying to stanch the blood flow, but it pumped out between his fingers. He stood up and walked to the end of the table, let go of his neck, and reached for her. Her next shot hit him dead center mass. He stopped, sat down heavily on the floor, kind of bounced a little, made a squeaky noise, then toppled over.

Auddy threw up on him, adding to the mess, then promptly collapsed where she stood.

Julian was pleased with the distance they’d covered since leaving Shaun’s place in West Virginia. The Jetta’s fuel mileage was excellent and he figured they’d make it all the way to the CDC with some still left in the tank. They were about fifty miles from Atlanta and it was getting late. Soon it would be dark.

Back in his lab, the tests that he’d performed on Eddie gave him more data than anyone else on the planet concerning effects of the vaccine on those who’d reacted negatively. He’d lost his laptop during the ensuing chaos of society’s breakdown, but he had the data on a solid-state drive. He must get that into the hands of the scientists and doctors at the CDC.

Several things, both physiological and psychological, occurred with the patient. One of the physiological effects was photophobia, a hypersensitivity to light. He tested the skin cells, all of which showed an absolute absence of melanin. The tiny robots were supposed to go dormant and become inert zinc molecules after consuming a certain number of cells infected by the virus. The nanites modified the immune system as intended, but the T-cell population had inexplicably skyrocketed. They found normally pigmented skin and effectively killed the melanin-producing melanocytes, which meant that exposure to the sun became a problem for the patient. It also meant that Julian and Simon needed to find a safe place to hide now that the day had run its course.

He looked for a small abandoned property. Small, because he knew the turned had a predilection for larger buildings that allowed a pack to nest in complete darkness. Abandoned, because if there were no human inhabitants before the event, there was less of a chance the turned would be there.

He spotted a little cottage off the interstate that didn’t have any cars parked next to it. He had already passed the off-ramp that led to the home. He found an emergency vehicle turnaround across the median a mile up the road, reversed course, and exited I-85.

Simon stirred, then his eyes opened and he looked at his father. Daddy never let his whiskers get very long except at Christmastime, when he would take a whole week off to spend with him. “Is it Christmas, daddy?”

Julian completely missed the reason for the question and thought that perhaps his son was having a dream before waking. “No Simon, it is June, summertime. Were you having a dream of Christmas?”

This confused Simon. “No daddy. You only let your whiskers grow at Christmastime.”

Julian laughed. “I am sorry son, but no, it is not Christmas.”

“I wish it was Christmas, then we could all spend the day playing in the snow, you, mommy, me, and Angelina. Where are mommy and Angelina, daddy?”

“They had to go away, Simon. They did not want to, but they had to. I did not want them to go, and I know you did not want them to go either, but nonetheless, son, they are gone.”

“Will we ever see them again daddy?”

They both had tears running down their faces. “I do not know Simon, I do not know. Maybe when we have to go too.”

“I want to go now, daddy.”

Julian stopped the car, bent over, enveloped his son in a hug, and wept. “No Simon, it is not time for us to go yet.”

“I love you daddy. I miss mommy and Angelina, but I will not leave you alone daddy.”

Julian sat up and looked at Simon. “Thank you Simon, I will not leave you alone either, that is a promise.” He could see the relief flood the boy’s countenance.
How could I be so dense?
Julian thought.
He is terrified I will die and leave him on his own.
“Are we good, son?” He held his fist out to Simon. Simon bumped it with his own little fist. “Yes daddy, we are good.” Julian wiped his eyes and drove to the little cottage on the frontage road.

They parked in the circular dirt driveway and both got out the driver’s side. Julian called out, “Hello, is anyone there?” There was no response. The wooden porch was painted gray, the paint worn and chipped. Lace curtains were visible inside the windows. A breeze blew and the chimes that hung at the corner of the house tinkled together.

Julian bent and opened the gate that attached to an arbor covered in dead grapevines. He pulled Simon along by the hand.

“Daddy, I do not like this place.”

“It is a lovely little house, Simon. Come on.”

The porch protested his ascent by squeaking as Julian climbed toward the front door. The window rattled in its frame when he knocked on the door. After a moment, he tried the door and found it unlocked. Again, he called out into the front room, “Hello, is anyone there?” When there was no response, he beckoned Simon to follow. Reluctantly, the boy climbed the stairs and came to stand behind his father.

Julian pushed the door open and took a few steps inside. The house felt hollow. His footsteps disturbed the fake Persian carpet, giving off little puffs of dust that danced in the streaks of sunlight beaming in through the west-facing windows. Pictures lining the mantel showed a family’s march through its own personal history. An old black-and-white photo of a young couple getting married began the story. Several more depicted the eventual addition of first one child, then over time, three more; another picture of the couple well into their golden years; then a picture of only the woman, looking out through the sad eyes of a widow.

Julian did a cursory search of the entire house, upstairs, ground level, and basement, proving his earlier gut feeling that the house was empty. Satisfied that they were alone, he proceeded to make a more thorough search of the place.

The main floor was composed of a living room, dining room, kitchen, and parlor with an attached bathroom. There was nothing of import in any of these rooms. The kitchen cupboards were bare other than dishes and some spices. He went upstairs and found two more bedrooms and a bath that serviced both. He surmised that the sparsely decorated first bedroom was a guest room. The other room smelled like an old person and had a well-lived-in feel. In the closet he found an old revolver. It was loaded, but he could find no additional bullets anywhere. He went back downstairs and found Simon sitting on the floor looking through a photo album.

“Do you think this family had to go away too, daddy?”

Julian wanted to scream at the child, to lose his pent-up guilt for turning the world upside down with his medical meddling, for ruining the chance that his son would ever feel safe again. He took a deep breath. “I think that only the mother lived here, Simon. Maybe her son came and got her and they are all together at his home. Come with me, it will be cooler down in the basement.”

It was cooler in the basement, but that wasn’t why Julian wanted go down there. He found a hammer and some nails and nailed the door shut behind them. They followed the flashlight beam down the stairs and looked around the basement. What Julian really wanted was to find the water heater. He hoped that it would provide them a much-needed drink. Mr. Pierce had given them some bottled water but they had exhausted that earlier in the day.

What they found was even better than rusty water from an old water heater. Georgia is known for its peaches, and they found a row of shelving full of quart jars of canned peaches. They sat on an old musty mattress, ate peaches, and drank the sweet juice until they both were full. Then they set up camp among the old woman’s junk that had accumulated over the years. Julian nailed a couple of boards over the only window and they settled in for the night.