Sanctuary: A Postapocalyptic Novel (The New World Series) (20 page)

Pablo walked the gravel path that meandered through the now-dead garden. Where rosebushes and flowers once bloomed, brown, dried-out dead plants remained. As he pulled an old rosebud off a plant, he pricked his finger.

“Damn,” he yelped.

“You hurt yourself?” Isabelle said, walking up behind him.

“Yes, this rose bit me,” he answered her, then placed his bleeding finger in his mouth.

“It’s sad, but things of beauty like the rose need thorns to protect themselves,” she said as she put her arms around him.

“Or maybe it’s a lesson that those things we think are beautiful also have ugly parts.”

“You are so cynical.”

“I am but that cynicism has served me quite well. I don’t intend on giving it up.”

“Who was that with you just a bit ago?” she asked curiously.

“Nobody.”

“He’s somebody, meaning you wouldn’t be talking to him if he wasn’t someone,” she pressed.

“It’s not your concern. Why are you so interested anyway?” he asked with a hint of an edge in his tone.

“You know us women, nosy. I just never saw him before.”

“And you might see more of him. He’s just helping me with some business that’s not all that important. But, then again, you really don’t need to ask me about my business,” Pablo said, harshly.

“Yes, my emperor,” she answered obediently, deflecting his more aggressive tone. She took him off guard by reaching down and grabbing his crotch. “Shall I be of service to the emperor?”

He pulled her hand away and said, “Not now.”

She pressed her body against his and tried again. “Are you sure?”

This time he couldn’t resist her; her sexual magnetism was intense. When he was with her he couldn’t think of anything but her. He knew this and would attempt to ignore it, but when she pushed, he caved. He took her by the hand and they both vanished into the small greenhouse located at the rear of the property.

Eagle, Idaho

Nelson’s truck rumbled to a stop at the gate that edged Truman’s long driveway. Judging by the amount of packed snow against it, it hadn’t been opened in a long time.

Nelson thought about ramming it but he didn’t want to damage his truck. He looked to the left and right but a large drainage ditch lay to either side, so that cut out the possibility of going around it. They would have to run the quarter mile to the house.

Nelson exited the truck and slammed the door, frustrated. “Shit!”

“Just ram it!” Mack yelled from the bed of the truck.

“Too risky; the gate has frozen snow covering the lower third of it,” Eric answered.

“No time to discuss. I’m not ramming the gate and I can’t drive off-road. Let’s hustle,” Nelson barked.

The men grabbed their weapons and began jogging down the drive. Nelson led the pack that included Mack, Eric, Frank, and Scott.

It took them only a few minutes before the houses came into view.

“Mack, Scott, go to the trailer. Eric, check out the barns in the back. Dad, you and I will stop by the main house,” Nelson ordered. All the men split off.

Nelson stayed focused on the main house and looked for any movement. Nothing. He and Frank stepped onto the wooden deck. Frank went right, he went left. Nelson peered into the dirty window but couldn’t see much. The house’s blinds and drapes were pulled back but it was too difficult to make out very much. From what he could see, it looked like a pretty normal setup, decorated with furniture, lamps, and knickknacks.

“Dad, anything?”

Frank had his face against a screen, attempting to see. “Nothing, looks like no one is home.”

“Only one way to find out,” Nelson said as he approached the front door and began to bang on it.

Eric walked onto the deck from the side. “Nothing in the barn or other structures!”

Mack then came up from the trailer. “Nothing there either. Looks like they’ve been gone for a while.”

Nelson, frustrated beyond words, stepped back and kicked the door. It splintered and flew wide open. He raised his rifle and walked in.

The force of the kick disturbed what looked like months of dust and dirt, which floated in the air and choked him. He proceeded through the front living room, looking carefully for any clue. Adding to the heavy dust, which was making him cough, a strong and pungent odor overwhelmed his sense of smell.

“Holy shit, what is that?” Mack said as he entered the house.

“I’m going to guess a combination of backed-up septic, garbage, foul food, and nasty redneck ass,” Eric joked, coming in behind Mack.

Nelson didn’t pay attention to the guys and looked everywhere for a sign, a clue, something that would tell him Haley had been there. But each corner he turned told him she wasn’t here and that Truman hadn’t been here for some time.

“There’s no one here. We need to go back now,” Nelson yelled, stepping back outside. He hadn’t bothered to search the entire house. He saw enough to know that she wasn’t there.

“But we’re not done looking,” Eric hollered from upstairs.

“She’s not here! Let’s go!” he yelled.

 • • • 

“Beware the ides of March.”

—William Shakespeare

East of Bend, Oregon

G
ordon needed to take a break to stretch after doing so much driving. He didn’t know if his legs and back were aching from sitting or from the blast.

The sun had just made its appearance over the eastern horizon and with it he hoped for another day without incident. Every time he saw the sunrise, he would make a point to say a quick prayer, hoping he’d see it set that day.

The first twenty-four hours of the drive had been successful, easily clearing over three hundred miles. But even given that, driving in the new world was slower. Weather and road conditions were problems before but now those were compounded by abandoned vehicles, road bandits, and the inability to stop just anywhere. The start of their drive was slowed due to the heavy rains. Fortunately for them, it hadn’t turned into snow and the temperatures didn’t drop below freezing. At the current rate, he hoped to pull into Cheyenne in three or four days.

Christopher began to stir but didn’t quite wake up. He had offered to take on some of the driving, and Gordon was thankful for that. Gordon grew excited about the prospect of getting relieved from his driving duty. Not wanting to wait any longer, he ran over a clump of debris, jolting the vehicle.

Everyone in the Humvee woke suddenly.

Christopher, now wide awake, asked urgently, “Is everything okay, are we okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine, accidently hit something,” Gordon lied. “Since you’re awake I need to take a break and rest. You mind?”

“No, not at all, pull over wherever you think is safe,” Christopher said, stretching.

“Where are we?” Cruz asked from the backseat.

“Somewhere east of Bend. We’re making good time,” Gordon answered.

Normally, Gordon wouldn’t have driven through the night, but he didn’t want the trip to take three times as long. And in some regards, the dangers on the road came at all hours.

“I haven’t seen anything for miles. Probably anywhere on the road is safe to just pull over,” Gordon said as he began to decelerate.

“Can’t we find a building that might have a bathroom?” Cruz asked.

“Is that a serious question?” Gordon asked.

“Yes, it’s serious. I have to use the bathroom,” Cruz stated flatly.

“I’m afraid you’re going to have to do what the animals do. I have toilet paper and an e-tool in the back.”

“What’s an e-tool?” Christopher asked.

“A shovel. I like to have one when I go outside. I use it to balance myself when I squat.”

“Are you sure there’s not a rest area or facility close by?” Cruz asked.

“Sir, if we approach a building I can’t just let you go in without my securing it first. That could take up precious time. You can’t expect every building you see to be safe. It’s a dangerous world out here, in case you didn’t know.”

“Mr. Van Zandt, I don’t appreciate your condescending attitude.”

Gordon brought the vehicle to a coast and pulled along the shoulder of the road.

“I’m sorry if you were offended, but I can’t take your requests seriously. I know you must be a smart man. I’m not pulling up to any structure unless I absolutely have to. It’s just best we stay from any building,” said Gordon.

Cruz thought before he responded. He was not feeling well. His body ached and he had what felt like the beginnings of a fever.

“Here’s where we’re going to take a break. Mr. Vice President, the shovel is in the back on the right. You go first, pick any tree out there. Christopher, do you mind topping us off? Any of the fuel cans in the back will work. I’m going to be on watch,” Gordon said, then exited.

The long stretch Gordon took felt good. He bent over at the waist and let the weight of his body stretch his lower back. He had picked a very remote spot on the road. The rolling and lunging landscape was heavily dotted with pine trees and large shrubs. To the east the road went on for miles, to the west he followed the road till it died into the horizon. The temperature was cool but tolerable. The gray skies could mean anything; he just hoped it didn’t mean more precipitation.

Wilbur walked up to Gordon and asked, “Can you help me? Vice President Cruz isn’t feeling too well.”

“Sure,” Gordon agreed, and followed Wilbur to the other side of the Humvee. There he saw Cruz bent, sitting on the ground, resting his back against the right wheel tire.

“You all right?” Gordon asked, but what he saw gave him the answer, and it was no.

Cruz’s skin was pale and clammy. He looked up at Gordon with swollen, bloodshot eyes.

“He’s really sick now. He had been complaining before we left but I thought he was just fatigued,” Wilbur commented.

“Let’s get him into the Hummer,” Gordon said, grabbing one arm. Wilbur grabbed his other arm and they both pulled him up and sat him back in his seat. Cruz collapsed into the seat and laid his head against a box.

“What’s wrong with him?” Wilbur asked.

“I don’t know, but you better wash your hands. The last thing I need is to get what he has,” Gordon said as he examined his hands.

...

As soon as Gordon sat in the passenger seat he passed out from exhaustion. He didn’t know how long he had been asleep when Christopher shook him awake.

“Gordon, wake up!” Christopher barked.

“Huh! What? What is it?” Gordon said, sitting up and alert.

“It’s the vice president, he’s gotten worse,” Christopher said, pointing to Cruz’s sickly frame in the back. Christopher had pulled them off the road.

“Where are we?” Gordon asked, looking around. The sun was still high in the sky, so they couldn’t have gone too far.

“I saw a sign a mile back that said Hines, seven miles,” Christopher said.

“Hines? Where’s the map?” Gordon asked, looking around the front of the Hummer.

“We need to find him a doctor!” Wilbur yelled at Gordon.

Gordon turned around and looked at her, then at Cruz.

Cruz looked lifeless. He hadn’t moved since they had dumped him in the seat earlier. His sweating had increased and when he opened his eyes, the whites were now almost entirely red.

“Major, in the back is a trauma kit. Grab it and let’s look through there for anything we can give him that will help,” Gordon commanded.

She jumped out and ran toward the back.

“Here’s the map,” Christopher said excitedly as he handed it to Gordon.

“Hines . . . we must still be in Oregon,” he said out loud as he opened up the map. “Here it is!” Gordon yelled out as he found the town on the map. “Damn! That’s a small town and we don’t know if we’ll find help there.”

Wilbur rushed to Gordon’s door with the trauma kit and handed it to him. He snatched it out of her hands and fished through it until he discovered Motrin.

“This will help with his fever for now,” Gordon said, taking two capsules and giving them to her.

Giving Cruz the Motrin was not easy. After several attempts he was able to swallow. His symptoms looked like the flu, but it was difficult to determine without a doctor’s attention. Finding one wasn’t likely.

Gordon had to find a safe place for Cruz to rest. They pulled back on the road and headed toward Hines, Oregon.

All Gordon could think was, Shit, can’t anything go right, just once?

Eagle, Idaho

Nelson walked back into the house feeling defeated.

The sound of the heavy door closing sent Samantha rushing to see him. When she saw him empty-handed a wave of emotions cascaded over her.

“This can’t be happening again. This can’t be!”

Nelson didn’t know how to answer her cries. He hadn’t slept one minute the entire night. He and Eric had walked for what seemed like endless ice-cold miles looking for Haley but no clues presented themselves.

As Samantha sat crying, Nelson walked past her and into the kitchen. There wasn’t anything he could say or do to ease her pain aside from walking in with Haley.

Samantha didn’t blame Nelson, but she didn’t need to. His own self-loathing was enough to make him feel like a failure.

Over and over again he reenacted what he thought could have happened in the barn. In his mind’s eye, he saw her feeding Macintosh. Her sweet voice gently serenading him. Her attention to detail as she made sure each carrot she fed him wasn’t too big. Then he saw the fear, the sheer terror she must have felt when whoever took her came at her. He wondered if she had any notice. Was she hiding from them or was she surprised? The thought of her somewhere now, terrified, crying out for Samantha or him, ate him up inside.

The lack of sleep in over twenty-four hours was making him feel delirious. But taking a few hours to rest meant a few hours not looking for her. Determined to find her, he motivated himself to go back out and try to find a shred of evidence in the barn. He stood up, weary, and left a tormented Samantha crying in the other room.

His eyes were heavy and his thoughts were becoming garbled. He slapped himself in the face to wake up.

Entering the barn, he went back to Macintosh’s stall. There he found the horse happy and unaware that his friend was missing.

“Hey, boy,” he said, petting the horse on the head. “What happened? Where is she? God, I wish you could tell me what happened.”

Hines, Oregon

“There’s a hospital in the area called Burns. It’s just a few miles away,” Gordon shouted out after finding the icon signifying hospital on the map.

“Good, let’s hurry,” Wilbur responded.

“Don’t get too excited. The chances that it’s open are slim but we might be able to find some supplies there,” Gordon said.

“Gordon, we might have a problem. Up ahead!” Christopher said, a touch of apprehension in his voice.

A manned roadblock stood between them and the town.

“Christopher, stop and turn around!” Gordon commanded

“No, we have to keep heading toward the hospital!” Wilbur challenged him.

“We don’t know if those people are friend or foe. What I don’t need is to find out they don’t like us, and we’ll all need to go to the hospital. Turn around now!” Gordon yelled at Christopher.

Trusting in Gordon’s experience over Wilbur’s, Christopher slowed and made a U-turn.

“Where to now?”

“I don’t know, maybe there’s another way around,” Gordon said, looking at the map, trying to find a detour.

“Hey, there’s a car coming after us!” Christopher said.

Gordon looked into his side mirror and saw the car gaining on them.

“Turn down this street!” Gordon ordered. “Now pull over up there.”

Christopher did exactly what Gordon ordered. Wilbur prattled on, questioning every step.

“Major, please just shut the fuck up and get ready to fight,” Gordon barked at her. “Take this,” he said to Christopher, handing him a pistol.”

“I don’t understand why we’re stopping! If you think they’re bad, we should try to outrun them!” Again Wilbur challenged Gordon.

“I don’t have time to explain.”

Christopher pulled over and stopped.

The Hummer hadn’t stopped for a millisecond and Gordon was out of the vehicle, M4 at the ready.

“I am so tired of this!” he said as he slammed the door and took up a position, ready for the car to make the turn in its pursuit of them.

The car, a 1960 Ford Falcon, made the turn at a high rate of speed but began to slow down when the driver saw the Hummer pulled over.

Gordon was tired, frustrated, and all he wanted was for something to go right. “I really don’t have time for this shit!” He took aim on the windshield and began to shoot. After a half dozen shots, the car swerved and crashed into a telephone pole. “You see what happens. You just had to follow us, didn’t you? You just couldn’t leave us alone, you dumb fuck!” he said out loud. He shot a few more times at the car.

Steam billowed out of the crushed front end as the coolant hit the hot engine.

Gordon paused to see if anyone was moving. He walked over to the car and looked inside to find two men, both dead. Not one to miss out on an opportunity, he opened the car door and grabbed their weapons, a Mossberg 12-gauge shotgun and a Winchester Model 70 bolt-action rifle. He quickly looked around for anything else of value but found nothing. He took a step back and looked at the car. “Where do they get these cars from?”

As he was running back to the Hummer, a few townspeople stepped out of their homes, curious to see what had happened. “Go back inside or I’ll kill you!” Gordon yelled at them. He wasn’t serious, but then again, who knew what this day would bring.

After tossing the guns into the trailer he jumped back in the Humvee. “Let’s go!”

Both Christopher and Wilbur just stared at him.

“Drive, let’s go!”

“Ah, where?”

“Go straight, then turn left about two blocks. We’ll maneuver through these back streets. We’ll figure it out.”

“Aren’t you worried they’ll send more people after us?” Christopher asked.

“Yes, I am, that’s why I’m asking you to fucking
drive
. Now go!”

Christopher put the Humvee in gear and stomped on the accelerator.

Eagle, Idaho

Nelson had passed out on the floor of the barn from pure exhaustion. Macintosh’s cold, damp muzzle against his face woke him up.

He sat up quickly and saw that it was getting dark outside. He jumped to his feet, brushed off his clothes, and went back to the house.

Inside he found Samantha and Lucy, who had just returned from looking for Haley.

“Hi,” he said to both ladies as he walked in with a sheepish expression on his face.

“What happened to you?” Samantha asked.

“I’m so sorry. I literally passed out in the barn. I went down there looking—”

“You don’t have to defend yourself. I know you were wiped out. Eventually, our bodies just shut down. Remember, I have experience with this stuff,” she said, interrupting him.

“No, Sam, I’m really so sorry that I let you down,” he said somberly.

“Nelson, don’t apologize. It’s this world, this place, me, I don’t know; I wish I did,” she said, her voice cracking.

“Anything new?” he asked.

“Nothing, it’s like she just . . . vanished into thin air,” Lucy answered.