Last Woman (14 page)

Who knew that May twelfth was going to be such a pivotal day?

Dodge and those boys finished
the pump and were one hundred percent certain it was going to work, and couldn’t wait to try it out when they went out looking for people.

It was nearing lunch time and none of them had eaten, so not only did I make them lunch, I packed them a snack.

I really didn’t want Dodge to take Darie with him to test out something that could blow up.

“Oh, it’s fine, get in the car,” Dodge said.

“Really, I’m not going.”

“You sick?” Dodge asked.

“No, I just don’t want to ride around the city. I want to stay home.”

“And do what?”

“Why do I have to do anything?”

“Um, Faye, we only have a couple days until we leave.” Dodge said. “Well, while you’re sitting around
you may as well play with the radio.”

“You mean listen for Hash guy?”

“No, the other one. Start calling out. Each channel, call out, wait, call out again, and give it a minute then try another channel.”

“Dodge, really
?”

“I hate when you say that word. You say it all the time. Quit.”

“Quit?” I tossed out my hands.

“Come with us, Faye. The boys want to search.”

“Take them searching. I’m fine.”

“You’re missing out.”

Missing out? Did he really say that? I rolled my eyes slightly when he said that and like he requested, again, I locked the door after he and the boys left.

They got in the car like they were heading to a baseball game. It was weird.

The house was quiet after they left. It sounded quiet and felt it. As I started to clean up after lunch, I saw Dodge had left the main atlas on the table. He had two routes marked to Kentucky. Both highlighted in different color markers.

I was sure it wouldn’t be long before he started packing up Fastball. Dodge was thinking ahead on everything. I still didn’t understand the need to go south and join the group of people, if indeed it was a group of people. For all we know it could have been one man in a house on Interstate Seventy hoping for someone to come and join him in a pipe dream to find a farm in the panhandle.

Were there even farms down there?

I know if I told Dodge that, he’d tell me it was one more person.

The radio Dodge wanted me to try was next to his map. I lifted it, turned it on, and it seemed easy enough.

Volume. Channel.

Press button.

“Hello. Hello.” I called out. Waited. “Anyone there? Hello.”

Nothing.

I waited, tried again,
and then switched channels.

Depressing the button, I called out again. “Hello? Anyone there?”

I lifted the soup bowls. My plan was to rinse them, heat water and soak all utensils in the water that heated on the grill. Before taking the bowls, I gave the secondary call. “Hello.”

Shaking my head I put down the radio and returned to the bowls.

The hiss of static made my heart skip a beat. I spun.

“A little enthusiasm please, Faye. No one will reply to you.”

My mouth dropped open. Was he checking up on me? Just to be irritating, I lifted the radio, and said. “Really, Dodge?”

Smiling a little, I switched channels. After calling out I emptied the bowls, switched channels again, called out, set down the radio and filled a pot with water. I felt it was dumb, but just on the outside chance Dodge was checking up on me, I kept doing it.

Had the screen door to the deck not been open, I wouldn’t have heard the hiss of static.

In the doorway of the deck I listened. Waiting for Dodge to say I was slacking. But the voice that came over the radio wasn’t Dodge. It was a male voice and young.

“Hello? Did I hear someone? Hello?” he said.

I rushed inside and lifted the radio. “I’m here. I’m here.”

Did the young man do it on purpose or was he unaware he had the button pressed in when he screamed loudly in relief?

“Are you okay?”

“I am now. Thank God. Thank God. I thought everyone was dead.”

“Are you in Kentucky?”

“Lady I don’t think my radio reaches that far. My batteries keep dying. I’ve been trying for days to reach someone.”

The young man wasn’t a child, I could tell that. “Listen to me. In case I lose you. There is a convoy leaving from Wendell Ford training Base in Kentucky, off of Interstate Seventy. They’re headed south to Florida in eight days.”

“Should I go there?”

“Yes. Yes. Go to the base. Are you close?”

“Not really. I don’t know how to get there.”

I exhaled and thought. Find out where he is, send Dodge. That is what came to mind. That and ‘Please let Dodge in all his eavesdropping glory, chime in’. I waited for it, for Dodge to intervene and say, “Son, where are you.” But Dodge wasn’t listening. At least I didn’t think.

“Lady?” he called out. “You there?”

“I’m here. Where are you?”

Static.

Oh, God, I thought and called for him. “Are you there?”

Nothing.

I closed my eyes tightly. All I could see was that desperate young man, falling apart because after finally making contact he lost it.

At least I got the information to him.

Just as I stood to finish my clean up task, I caught
a glimpse of my son’s team basketball picture that hung on the wall of my dining room.

The boy I talked to on the radio sounded so young. What if it had been my son? What if Mark had lived, survived the flu and was calling out for help? I would hope some stranger, no matter how radio ignorant she was, wouldn’t give up.

So I didn’t.

I put more effort and passion into trying
again. I called out and kept calling until the indicator light went from green to red and my own battery finally died. I never received an answer or heard the young man’s voice again.

I prayed he was alright and that it was only the battery. He’d call again, surely he would.

The knock at the door, snapped me out of it and I hurried to open it.

No sooner did I unlock it, George blasted in.

“The pump worked. We got tons of gas. Gonna fill the RV and get more,” he said.

Darie ran in and hugged my legs. The boys both reeked of gasoline. I ran my hand over Darie’s head, absorbing the feel of his greeting.

Dodge walked in. “Boys wash up.”

“Dodge, did you hear the radio? I made contact.”

“You what?” He asked shocked.

“A young man. But I lost it. I was able to tell him about Kentucky.”

“Good. That’s good. He’ll radio back. I’m sure.”

That’s when I realized Dodge was standing by the door and not moving. “Dodge, what’s wrong?”

“We have a situation.”

George spoke upbeat. “We found the teenage boy. He wasn’t shot.”

Just as I gasped in some sort of happy shock, I noticed, Dodge had a look of confusion. “Is he sick?”

“No,
but he won’t come in,” Dodge said. “Told me he was scared. That you didn’t want to see him.”

“That’s ridiculous. Does he know me?” I asked.

“Said he did. He told me that you called him painful.”

“What the hell?” I shook my head. There was no way I knew who it was. Every person I knew was gone. Let alone someone I would call painful. I was baffled, that wasn’t me. But when I looked out the door, I realized that
was
me several months earlier.

When I lost my family I shunned and pushed away anyone and anything that was a reminder of them. In my grief, I once bitterly told a teenage boy to stay away because he was a painful reminder of everything I lost. Now that boy stood in my driveway. Only he was no longer a painful reminder but something I needed and a positive glimpse of a life I loved.

Standing there, scared to death, dirty and crying was my son’s best friend, Mikey.

The world had taken from me everything I loved. And it took it before the ERDS virus swept across the globe. I had nothing left, but pictures and memories. And even the memories were soured with the bitterness of my tragic loss.

I was an anomaly in the quiet world. I didn’t care. I woke up to death long before that pile of bodies. I woke up to loss every day, the world dying, to me, was really nothing in hindsight. We measure tragedy on how it affects us personally and the ERDS virus emotionally didn’t faze me.

I had nothing left … or so I thought.

The moment Mikey stepped into view, I realized I did have something left. I had a tangible being that was from my life. Not only that, a young man I knew since Boy Scouts, watched him grow, he was a part of my son and in some way, I got a part of my son returned to me.

How fortunate I was.

But I had erred and I had a lot of making up to do. In my selfish grief, I had hurt that young man and it didn’t hit me until I saw him again, how much I had hurt him.

Before, I didn’t want to hear Mikey talk about Mark and their memories, now I did.

When Mark was killed, Mikey was around. He was at the house every day, in Mark’s room, trying to talk to me. Missing my son so much, that I failed to see how hurt he was because I was blinded by my own hurt.

As much as me, in his own way, Mikey couldn’t comprehend his loss. But unlike me he reached out for a piece of Mark, me, and I pushed him away.

I snapped.

Three weeks after the funeral, Mikey was at the house. He was talking about how he and Mark were in some sort of gaming tournament and how he wasn’t going to do it now and I lost it.

“Get out. Please. Leave.”

I still recall the look on his face. The hurt, how lost he was.

“Mrs. Wills?”

“You look like him, act like him and I can’t look at you without my heart breaking. Every day you are here is a constant reminder of what I’ve lost. Leave and never come back. You’re just too painful to me.”

He cried and ran out.

How horrible I was. How absolutely horrible I was, and I vowed in a single second to do everything in my power to make up for the hurt I caused that child. If I could.

He stood in my driveway and I ran to him. He looked as if he were going to run. In fact Mikey backed up, but I grabbed his thin arm, yanked him close then threw my arms around him in the biggest motherly embrace I could deliver.

He was stiff and then his body almost collapsed. His hands grabbed on to me and his head buried into my shoulder.

Mikey sobbed and I cried as well.

“Mike, I am sorry, baby, I am so sorry I hurt you. I am so sorry that you were afraid to see me. I promise with everything I am, that I am here for you.”

He didn’t stop crying, he was a weak child, like me and Darie, left for dead and confused when he opened his eyes.

We had each other.

I was so grateful to see Mikey and hold him. Not because he was a piece of my past and of my son, but just because he was Mikey.

It didn’t take long, after sobbing in my embrace, that Mikey collapsed. I didn’t know what caused it, illness, being weak, hungry. Dodge carried him into the house. Mikey needed tending to. Dodge cleaned him up for me. He then asked me to do something very hard, find clothes, possibly something that belonged to Mark.

I completely froze in my tracks.

“Faye, I’m sorry, I thought maybe you had some of his clothes.”

“I do.”

“Can you get them? Should I put Mikey in Mark’s room?”

I quickly answered, “No.”

“What?”

“I haven’t opened Mark or Sammy’s room in months. I don’t... I can’t.”

Reading Dodge’s face was difficult. Did he understand or was he pacifying me?

“So I should just leave him in your room?”

“Yes, and I’ll look for clothes.”

“Please.”

I didn’t go into Mark’s room, I couldn’t. I reached for the door knob, but I couldn’t physically bring myself to enter the room. Instead I went to the laundry room, and was able to find some clothes from the shelf.

Dodge didn’t say anymore when he returned; he just poured a can of soup in a pot and ignited the Coleman stove which now sat on the counter. “He needs to rest, eat, and comprehend,” Dodge said,

“What do you mean?”

“Where’s the whiskey?” Dodge asked.

“Wow, cabinet above the fridge. It’s not even six.”

Dodge didn’t reply or respond to my comment about him drinking. But something was up. Dodge wasn’t me. He wasn’t a ‘I need a drink’ person, or at least he didn’t seem it over the past few days.

“What’s going on?” I asked.

“Something isn’t right with that kid
.”

“Is he sick?”

“Aside from dehydrated and lack of food, he’s not right. It took us four times calling him for him to stop. Trust me; George yelling will wake the dead. No pun intended to the zombie fear that runs rampant around here.”

“He’s in shock then.”

“Possibly, he didn’t want to come and that was before he knew we were with you.”

“Oh, that’s wrong.”

“It’s the truth and I’m not saying it to be a dick.” Dodge poured a drink, shot it back, then poured another. He tossed the warmed soup in a mug. “Come with me to talk to him.”

I looked down, Dodge was holding out his hand to me I didn’t take it, only brushing by him and moving to the bedroom on the first floor.

I yelled back to the boys that we’d be back and make them dinner. They didn’t respond, once again, Dodge found snacks for them and they’d be on a sugar rush.

His telling the boys, “No one is gonna make candy for a long time, eat up now,” didn’t cut it.

Mikey was lying on the bed when we walked in, eyes open. Almost eerily staring out.

“Brought you soup, guy.” Dodge said. “You didn’t touch your water.”

“I will.” Mikey sat up. “I can’t stay.”

Dodge set down the soup. “You can’t go. In fact, if you don’t hydrate and eat, you won’t be going anywhere much longer.”

“I don’t care.”

I moved and sat on the side of the bed next to Mikey. “I know this is a lot to take in.”

“You don’t know.”

“How can you say that?” I asked.

“Because you don’t. You know what I’m talking about. Who did you lose?”

Dodge cleared his throat. “Ok, I know you have been through a lot …”

“Dodge,” I stopped him. “Mikey, what can I do?”

“Let me go. Let me go find my mom.”

I peered over my shoulder to Dodge then back to Mikey. “Do you think she’s still alive?”

“I don’t know. I am, right? You are. He … he is. I saw my Dad... I saw him die. But my mom, last I know she was only getting the fever. If I lived how do I know she didn’t? Those kids there, they’re brothers. It might be a family thing.”

Immediately, what went through my mind was what George had seen. The people waking up only to be shot. “You’re right. It might be.”

“Faye.” Dodge called out almost a warning.

“Have you gone home?” I asked.

“Yes. She wasn’t there.”

“Where have you checked?”

“Faye.”

“I’ve been going through the bodies at the medical setup. That was where I saw her last.”

I heard Dodge breathe out heavily, then he said. “That’s what he was doing when I found him.”

“And I’ll keep looking,” Mikey snapped. “Until I know. I need to know.”

I placed my hand on his leg. “Mikey, I understand. I do. Was it a military setup?”

“Yes.”

“OK, then they kept track, at least at first. Did you look at any paperwork they had.”

Mikey shook his head. “Just the bodies.”

“Well, then you rest tonight, eat, and we’ll go tomorrow. I’ll help you look. Deal?”

“You’ll help me look through the bodies?”

“
Every one of them if I need to.” I handed him the soup. “Just eat, Ok?”

Mikey nodded and took the mug, I ran my hand over his head, stood and walked to the door. Dodge followed me out.

“Faye,” he whispered. “What are you doing?”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s been days.”

I kept walking, down the hall then to the four steps that led to the main floor. “Are you implying, Dodge, this is an impossible task?”

“Nothing is impossible, Faye. But don’t you think if his mother were alive, the first place she’d look is that camp as well?”

“We’re gonna look. I’m gonna help him.”

“We have to get ready to leave. We have to prep the RV."

“Then you do it. I have to help Mikey.”

“I watched the news Faye. Every person that died at those local places, they didn’t keep the bodies there. They put them in dump trucks.”

“What’s your point?”

“My point is, more than likely, she’s probably at one of the big places, like my kids. You don’t see me cutting into every body bag. I saw what I needed to face the truth. I have a bad feeling, a really bad feeling about that kid.”

“And you don’t know him. I do,” I said. “I have known him since he was six years old. I have to help him.”

“Okay.” Dodge lifted his hands. “You help him search. I’ll get things ready to leave. But you can’t search forever. Eventually, instead of helping him search, you’re gonna have to help him face reality.”

“I will.”

“I’ll hold you to that,” Dodge said. “Because right now, I don’t know if that kid’s frame of mind can handle reality.”