Sudden Independents (13 page)

BOOK: Sudden Independents
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“Tell Ginger what’s going on,” Jimmy said, “Keep them inside until I get there. I don’t want Catherine running off to introduce herself.”

Samuel rubbed his arm. “I’ll be sure and tell Ginger how much you
love
her, too.” He tapped Jimmy back.

Jimmy staggered as his shoulder went numb. By the time he regained feeling, Samuel had bolted halfway down the road, laughing at him. Jimmy massaged his shoulder, suddenly fearing Samuel
would
tell Ginger how he felt.

•  •  •

The kids of Independents were packed in front of Brittany’s when Jimmy walked up, their collective breaths raising a tiny cloud of excitement in the cold. They were in rows from smallest to tallest, all pressed near the large windows. A muffled discussion quivered through the mass huddle and their voices reverberated off the glass.

“What do you think they want?”

“Where did you hear they came from?”

“I wonder if they have pizza.”

“I think the red-haired boy is kind of cute.”

“Ooh, gross!”

Jimmy stood behind the group until somebody noticed his reflection in the window and his name was passed along from kid to kid. They turned as a unit.

“Shouldn’t you be in school?”

“It’s Saturday!” they said, using the voice reserved for stupid grownups. Jimmy guessed he’d graduated early.

“Is it?” he smiled. “Is it really? Well, what do you normally do on Saturday?”

“Play.”

“All right then, you guys go play. As soon as I’ve talked with the visitors I’ll let you know all about them.”

“Promise?”

“Cross my heart and hope to—uh, I mean yeah, I promise.” Jimmy moved sideways, allowing the group to pass. They scattered in ten different directions. He watched them leave and was about to take a step when he realized Emma remained and was looking up at him. Jimmy couldn’t recall the definition of precocious, but thought the word probably applied to Emma.

“Yes, Emma?”

Emma glanced around and then, on her tiptoes, cupped her hands over her mouth. Jimmy leaned in close as she whispered, “Will you find out if the red-haired boy has a girlfriend?”

Jimmy scanned the area before giving Emma the thumbs up. She smiled, patted his hand, and ran off after her friends.

Jimmy stepped through the doors and tipped his hat to the youngest Brittany who was busy rolling silverware inside clean napkins. Her return smile appeared a little nervous. She directed him to the action by pointing a rolled napkin toward Jimmy’s usual table. Mark and Vanessa were entertaining the visitors. A steaming cup of something sat before everyone at the table and Jimmy hoped it wasn’t the last of the hot cocoa.

Chef Brittany could be heard giving orders to the other two Brittanys in the kitchen, preparing for the next meal from the sounds of the rattling pots and pans. Jimmy poured himself a glass of water, partly because he was thirsty, but mostly to calm his mounting tension before entering the mix.

“This is Jimmy,” Vanessa introduced him as he approached. “He’s also on the town council. Jimmy, this is Chase, Patrick and Kessie.”

Chase had black, piercing eyes; made creepier by the dark circles around them. Beyond that, his face was as pale as a white pillowcase and sweat beaded his brow. His manner appeared older than a kid. Something about those eyes though, caused Jimmy to immediately raise his guard. When Jimmy said hello, Chase seemed more interested in his drink and refrained from shaking hands, claiming he was suffering from a cold. He sure didn’t look well.

Jimmy held out a hand to the red-haired kid, Patrick. Jimmy thought if he could hook Patrick up to a plow then they’d have the fields ready in no time. Patrick crushed Jimmy’s hand when they shook; smiling, as though they were having fun together.

When he shook hands with Kessie, she held on longer than necessary. She smiled, her green eyes twinkling, and she shooed a strand of auburn hair from her face, guiding it back in place. Jimmy wouldn’t call her sexy, but then he was attracted to different qualities. Mainly the ones Ginger possessed.

“What happened to Samuel?” Kessie asked.

Somebody had made an impression. Jimmy knew Samuel would be pleased if someone ever told him. He found a chair next to Vanessa, across from the visitors. “He offered to finish up the work I was doing out in the fields. He told me you guys drove here from Iowa.”

Patrick and Kessie both looked at Chase. Chase sipped his drink, holding the cup in both hands before resting it back on the table slowly.

“We’re from a small town in central Iowa,” he finally said. “After two of the older kids died last month from the plague, we decided to drive out and see if anyone had discovered the cure yet.”

Vanessa hissed and Mark laid a comforting arm around her shoulders. The gaze they shared made it clear that the plague had been on their minds more than they cared to mention. Vanessa would never want to leave little David. Jimmy was sure Mark felt the same way. They all hoped the plague was over while silently worrying every day about its impending approach.

Jimmy squeezed the back of his neck, concerned about how sore it felt. He did a lot of work that made him sore, but still he wondered and that led to the worry.

“We haven’t heard of a cure yet,” he said. It wasn’t really a lie. Catherine might be a cure. Might. And yeah, he wasn’t ready to share her. He reasoned if Samuel thought he was selfish, he could live with that. All he wanted to do was live.

Chase stared at Jimmy for a time before glancing away with a shrug. “I figured as much, but we decided to go find out instead of sitting around waiting to die. We headed west on I-80 and never saw a soul. With winter coming on, I knew we’d better turn back soon. Patrick found some fresh motorcycle tracks leading south so we followed those here. Is this Kansas?”

“Kansas is a couple miles south of here. You’re in southern Nebraska. Samuel’s brother gathered us together and brought us here after all the adults died.”

“Where’s he now?” Patrick asked with a gravelly bass that reminded Jimmy of his dad.

“He passed away two years ago.”

“The plague,” Patrick said.

Jimmy spread his hands. “When he turned eighteen. We were hoping he was the last.”

“Don’t count on it,” Patrick said. The big kid frowned and dropped his gaze to the floor. Jimmy pegged Patrick at being about the same age. Now he was pretty sure of it.

Chase actually grinned. “Three in our town will turn eighteen this year. Patrick’s birthday is in the spring.”

Jimmy spoke to Patrick. “Mine’s April 5
th
.”

Patrick’s eyes were flat and heavy. “You got me beat, but not by much. April 7
th
.”

Chase chimed back in. “I would tell you guys not to give up hope, but we’re just a bunch of dumb kids, right? We’d need either scientists to discover a cure, or a holy miracle. Unfortunately, we don’t seem to have either one.”

Jimmy leaned back in his wooden chair. Mark still held Vanessa with his arm around her shoulder. Her face was lined with grief and Jimmy knew she should leave and spend time with her baby. Silence became the centerpiece at the table.

Chase was right about the hopelessness of discovering a cure, but the miracle was not that far away. Something in Chase’s eyes told Jimmy he knew about Catherine but wanted her for all the wrong reasons. Jimmy reached for his glass and gulped the water down, along with his resolve to keep his secret.

“Do you know why the plague only affects people eighteen and older?” Chase asked.

Jimmy pushed the brim of his cap up and scratched his forehead. “No. We don’t even know what caused it in the first place. We’ve heard tons of rumors.”

Chase scooted closer to the table, eagerness making those black pupils expand. He licked his lips. “What kind of rumors have you heard?”

Jimmy considered Chase’s curiosity, trying to read the boy’s sudden excitement but figured he just wanted to understand. “People talk about a bird flu epidemic out of China, or one of our own military experiments gone wrong. Or even a combination of the two where some terrorist group used a biological weapon against the United States, but I would have expected some sort of help from other countries if we were the only ones affected.”

Chase wrung his hands together. “All of those are very good. There’s also the alien plot to wipe the planet clean so they can harvest our natural resources. It still doesn’t explain why eighteen is the cut-off. Something biological wouldn’t just affect a specific age.”

“What then?” Jimmy asked.

“Biblical.” Chase narrowed his eyes. “Have you read the Book of Revelation?”

Jimmy shifted one sore cheek on the wooden chair for the other. “My parents weren’t big on church attendance.”

“I’ve read it,” Vanessa spoke up. “I’ve read the whole Bible several times since the plague. I didn’t witness any type of rapture.”

“Don’t you think your parents did?” Chase asked.

Jimmy pulled his cap back down wanting to end the crazy talk. He never cared for this kind of stuff. “Where are you going with this, Chase? And how long before we get there?”

Patrick dropped his meaty hands on the table with a loud thump, and Jimmy shared a look with Mark. The big kid wasn’t dumb enough to start a fight in the middle of town, Jimmy hoped, but then Chase coughed and drew everyone’s attention back to him.

“Have patience, Jimmy. Book of Revelation, chapter thirteen, verse eighteen reads: ‘This calls for wisdom. Let the person who has insight calculate the number of the beast, for it is the number of man. That number is 666.’”

Chase smiled. “Eighteen is divided by six three times.”

No one else spoke in the tension of the moment. The two other members of Chase’s group remained silent, differing in their reactions to the conversation. Kessie inspected her fingernails and picked at the dirt underneath, while Patrick’s sleepy eyes looked bored and possibly hungry, for food or whatever.

Jimmy wanted this creepy party out of his town as soon as humanly possible.

“Well, Chase, it sounds like you have it all figured out. I don’t really buy it, but at least I have a new rumor for my collection. In terms of dealing with this plague, I wish we could have helped each other out.”

Jimmy spotted an upward twitch in the corner of Chase’s mouth, and found his reflection, small and trapped, in the sickly boy’s soulless gaze.

Chase pulled a white handkerchief from his front pocket and wiped his nose. “I do, too.”

S
cout checked the outside temperature on the digital display of the small Toyota pickup as he coasted to a stop in front of Ginger’s house. Three hours had slipped by and the temperature only rose two degrees, from thirty-four to thirty-six. The gas gauge hung near empty. Scout was glad he’d made it back to Independents without a long walk freezing his butt off. He would fill up at the auto depot where they kept their fuel reserves in a giant tanker truck, but first he wanted to spread a little joy.

Scout sprang from the pickup like a snake in a can, excited by what he had found for Ginger and the anticipation of her reception. A foot-pedal sewing machine in pristine condition rested in the truck bed, revealing the care and love of the previous owner. Scout also found enough needles, bobbins, thread and material to supply Ginger with her own private shop.

As he unloaded the truck’s contents to the porch, Samuel walked up and leaned against the tailgate.

“What’s up? Need any help?”

“Sure, grab that pile,” Scout said, holding bolts of fabric in shades of blue, red, and green.

Samuel hopped into the bed with the creaking complaint of worn shocks and lifted his own spectrum of colored materials. “Shouldn’t this go over to the sewing shop?”

“I figured I’d give the sewing stuff to the person doing all the sewing. Anyways, this is a gift for Ginger. They got plenty of this stuff at the shop.”

“Not you, too.”

“What do you mean by that?”

Samuel smiled like a fat Tomcat climbing out of a garbage can. “There’s been a lot of interest in Ginger, lately. I understand, of course. She’s the sweetest girl in town, not to mention her curvy assets.”

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