Jacob's Odyssey (The Berne Project Book 1) (18 page)

There was no way for her to understand what it was like out there without having been out there herself. How could she? "Not with the bat," I answered.

She looked at me, uncomprehending. At least for a few moments. Then she grasped the essence of what I was saying. I knew she would never trust me now. That ship had sailed and I wasn't on it. "Not with the bat?" she said, incredulously. "What did you use?"

There was no reason to hold back now. "A gun," I told her. "I used it last night at your grandparents' house."

She suddenly looked pale and her body stiffened noticeably.

And then I wondered why I had been trying so hard to please her. She had nearly gotten me killed with her phone call. Of course, she didn't know that. I'd never said anything to her because I didn't want her to feel bad. But if she hadn't called me, I never would have had to use the gun. I'd just been doing my best to stay alive. Why was that so hard to understand? I thought it ironic that she would be upset with me for using a gun. Hadn't she been the one threatening to shoot me just last night?

Then I did something out of character for me. I got angry. Really angry. Anger was an emotion I'd never felt comfortable with, and I didn't feel comfortable with it now. It welled up inside of me and needed an outlet. And I gave it one. When I spoke to her, I tried to remain calm, but my voice had a caustic edge to it I couldn't seem to control. "If I hadn't used the gun," I said pointedly. "I wouldn't be here. And if I weren't here, you and Becky and Raj wouldn't have any food." And while I clearly had heard every word I'd spoken, I couldn't believe it had been my voice uttering those words. I had never said anything as bitingly nasty to anyone in my entire life. And I regretted what I'd said immediately. But it was already too late.

She didn't seem to know how to respond. It was almost as if she were in a state of shock. But she recovered quickly and her face underwent a dramatic change. The tight face with its crimped, fretful features was gone, replaced by a smoothness as cold and remote as an arctic berg. I knew she hadn't been sure about me, but now she was. And there was nothing I could do or say to change it.

I could have just left, and I'm sure she would have been pleased to see me go, even thrilled. But I couldn't leave. I'd made a commitment to help them. I knew they would never do what was necessary to survive. They would never break into homes to find food if they needed to, and they'd never leave this place. They would sit here and starve in the storage room. And in the end, I knew I'd feel responsible for them, the same way I felt responsible for Alex.

I was going to help them whether she wanted me to or not. And while I knew I would likely never get back into Sarah's good graces, if I were clever enough, I might be able to convince her to accept my help.

"I'm sorry," I began. "I shouldn't have said that. I'll understand if you want me to leave. But please hear me out. I came here with the idea of helping you and Becky. And now Raj too. I'd still like to do that if you'd let me. It would only take me a couple days to get enough food to last the three of you maybe six weeks. And there's always the possibility of finding a home with food storage like your grandparents had. If I could find a home like that, I could help you get settled in. Either way, once I've found food for you and Becky and Raj, I'll be on my way."

Sarah didn't say anything, but I could tell she was contemplating what I'd said, at least considering it. It wasn't as if she had a lot of options, and I didn't believe her distaste for me would keep her from making sure they were all fed.

I knew the best thing I could do for them would be to teach them how to find homes with food and teach them how to break into them. I had extra lock picks and tension wrenches in the tri-fold. That would at least give them a chance. But I knew Sarah would never hear of it.

"Where's your gun?" she suddenly asked me.

I pointed down at the backpack. "It's in my backpack," I told her.

"I don't want a gun in my house. If you want to stay and help us, then I'll need you to leave the gun outside."

Sarah's face remained as smooth as the surface of a still pond, not a ripple anywhere. I knew her proposal was as much of an olive branch as I was likely to get. And while I wasn't crazy about the trade off, I'd have to live with it if I wanted to stay and help them. And I did want to help them.

I knew removing the gun from my backpack was dangerous, even foolhardy, especially after what had happened at her grandparents' home. But I didn't see an alternative. There would be no negotiation here. I knew that. I could hide the Glock outside under the deck and wrap it up in something to protect it, then I could grab it whenever I went anywhere.

"I'll take the gun out of the house," I told her. "I'll do it right now." And then I asked her if she would warm up some soup for me. She nodded and I grabbed my backpack and headed upstairs.

I went into the kitchen and laid my backpack on the counter. The salmon fillets I had brought were thawing in the sink. I put the Glock in one of the large freezer bags I still had from my first night out and then wrapped it tightly in a towel.

Outside, I checked underneath the deck and found a window three feet in from the outside edge of the deck. I hid the Glock by the window. The gun would be out of sight unless someone happened to look underneath the deck. No chance of that. The hiding place for the Glock would also work great on two other fronts. I'd be able to reach the Glock easily whenever I left the house, and if I had to, in case of emergency, I could remove the cover to the basement window, open the window, and grab the gun quickly. I decided I wouldn't mention to Sarah where I'd put the gun. She would never approve of its placement near the window, or anywhere else for that matter.

*****

After I'd hidden the gun, I headed for the storage room. Raj was engrossed in whatever was on his iPad screen, his face pinched in concentration. When he became aware of my presence, he looked up and smiled brightly and nodded. Raj's hair was as meticulously groomed as it had been during the night, maybe more so. I nodded back at him. He was wearing the same clothes he had worn last night—a roomy, apricot-colored short-sleeved Henley in tandem with white sweatpants. The colors accentuated his smooth mocha skin and black hair. His blanket was folded neatly and his pillow sat on top of the blanket. A pair of expensive-looking leather sandals sat on the floor next to his mattress.

Sarah had the soup ready for me. When she saw me walk in, she poured the soup into a bowl. I could smell the chicken noodle from across the room. It smelled wonderful. Sarah stood and waited for me. When I got there, she handed me the bowl of soup with a spoon in it along with a glass of water. She handed them to me without saying a word.

I made my way out to the couch. By the time I sat down to eat, I was famished, and the brothy chicken noodle hit the spot. While I'd never been much of a soup fan, today it tasted like ambrosia.

I ate my soup slowly, savoring each spoonful while I casually studied the room. The room was sparsely furnished, sparse, but warm and elegant. The walls were a light ecru with white moldings at the top and bottom. The furniture was expensive, hardwood all around. The entertainment center and coffee table were beautiful, warm maple pieces with smooth edges on the corners. The floor had a Berber carpet with beige shadings. Along the same wall as the entertainment center was a small oak bookcase with glass doors. The shelves were filled with books and assorted knickknacks, plenty of angels amongst them. Two framed pictures of Becky stood on top of the bookcase, one with Sarah in it. They stood next to each other smiling and looking happy. Becky's hair looked to be quite long, Sarah's was shoulder length.

The window above the entertainment center concealed the Glock. I'd have to step on the entertainment center to access the gun if the need arose. Not ideal. But when the time came, if it came, I would do what was necessary. I'd learned that lesson well. If I didn't do what was necessary when the time came, there was a good chance I wouldn't survive and neither would they. Hopefully, it wouldn't come to that.

I decided to check out the window coverings. They were large black outdoor garbage bags stuffed with pillows or blankets or clothes, whatever was necessary to fill them up. Then they were taped to the windows with masking tape. They were quite effective. They did an excellent job of keeping the light out. If the situation arose, they would come off easily enough.

Having food in my stomach energized me. I was more than ready to get out into the neighborhood to scavenge for food. I wanted to get the food gathering done as quickly as possible. More than anything, I wanted to get out of the house. I knew it would be blistering hot out this late in the day, but I didn't care. I couldn't wait to get them their food and get out of their house for good. I'd had my fill of Sarah Josephson's moodiness. I would help them as best I could and then I'd be gone.

Just below the hum of the air conditioning, I could hear an erratic murmuring coming from the storage room, subtle but distinct. I listened intently and there it was again. I was fairly certain what I was hearing were the muted but excited whispers of Raj and Sarah. My curiosity got the better of me and I grabbed the empty bowl and glass and headed to the storage room.

They were whispering intensely, but I couldn't make out what they were saying. They stopped the moment I walked into the room. I stopped too. I stood there with my empty bowl and glass and waited for them to resolve whatever it was they needed to resolve. Sarah and Raj were sitting on Raj's mattress facing each other. Neither of them gave me a glance. They were staring intensely at one another. Raj held a resolute expression on his face as if he weren't going to give in on whatever it was they were fussing about. Sarah looked fit to be tied. You could see the intensity in her eyes, and her lips were so tightly pressed together, they'd nearly disappeared. Then Raj shrugged his shoulders and gave Sarah one of those it's-up-to-you looks.

Sarah sighed heavily. She looked flustered. "Okay," she said. "…to the first part, not the second." Raj nodded silently.

Then he turned to me, smiling radiantly. "Jake," he said. "Can we talk?"

I was about to find out what the fuss was about. I assumed it had to do with me, and I assumed I wasn't going to like it.

"Okay," I told him.

Sarah got up and retrieved the dishes from me without so much as a glance. She looked troubled and introspective.

I followed Raj out to the family room.

He made himself comfortable sitting on the same end of the couch Sarah had sat on. Raj crossed his lengthy legs underneath him and smiled brightly.

"How are you doing, Jake?" he asked me.

"I'm all right," I said, feeling wary.

"That's good," he said, nodding his head in approval. "Very good." He stopped the nodding and smiling and his face suddenly took on a serious countenance. "Sarah tells me you've come all the way from Murray."

He was leaning forward in anticipation as if he were waiting for me to answer a question, though he'd never really asked me one. But I gave him the answer he was looking for. "Yes," I told him. "I came from Murray."

Raj paused a moment, then said, "It must have been very dangerous, Jake. Did you run into some of the grays?" And he canted his head slightly in anticipation of my answer.

"I had some difficult moments," I told him. "And, yes, I ran into some grays." And I left it at that. I didn't feel like sharing details. Raj was giving me several empathetic nods as if he understood perfectly well what I'd gone through. Then I asked him a simple, direct question. "Raj, what's going on?"

"Oh," he said, and he was all smiles again, though only for a moment. Then his face morphed into seriousness again. "Yes. We very much appreciate what you've done for us, Jake. The food you brought us was wonderful. Thank you. Truly a wonderful thing you have done. Very much appreciated."

I had never met anyone quite like Raj. Even though I'd known him less than a day, Raj was easy to read. He was irrepressibly cheerful, always smiling, and utterly sincere. I had no doubt his gratitude was genuine. Raj simply didn't have the capacity for deceit. He was guileless. And whenever he said anything, his emotions were etched on his face as if they had been tooled there by a craftsman. He couldn't hide anything. Everything Raj felt was revealed by his face.

I waited for him to continue.

"We were hoping you might help us in a different way, Jake," he began. And he tried to smile, but it was a strained effort. He was out of sorts. "We appreciate that you've brought us food. Yes. Very thankful. And... well... we were hoping you might be willing to help us go somewhere." Once he finished, Raj seemed relieved. He took a deep breath and smiled, pleased with himself.

I had difficulty believing what I was hearing. I had been convinced they'd never want to leave this house. And now they not only wanted to leave, but they wanted me to take them to wherever it was they wanted to go. "You want to go somewhere?" I asked him, just to make sure I'd heard him correctly.

"Yes, Jake. We do." Raj nodded. He seemed to be his normal self again.

"And... where was it you wanted to go?" I asked him.

"We would like to go near the area of 45 hundred South and Wasatch Boulevard."

The intersection he mentioned was about seven blocks south on the other side of the underpass.