The Omega Protocol Chronicles (Book 1): Exodus (35 page)

But soon enough, she began to need air more than humour and her laughter subsided as she took several deep, even breaths. She wiped the tears from her eyes and saw that the girls had emerged from the tent to see what was going on. She gave one last chuckle when she looked at Jackson and found him staring at her as if she had grown another head.

“It wasn’t that funny,” he said, eyeing her warily.

“Yeah it was, so thank you, I really needed that,” she said, patting him on the shoulder. “I’m going to go get cleaned up now. You think you can get the fire going?”

He nodded, still looking confused and she knew he probably thought she was cracking under the pressure but she wasn’t. She was actually building reinforcements against the pressure. She needed to be reminded that despite what had gone on, there was still some good to be found in this world. They could still appreciate the beauty of nature and they could still laugh.

No matter what she had gone through, her humanity was still intact and that meant the world to her.

Subject File # 742

Administrator - Do you think you’re a good leader?

Subject - I think that’s a question for the others. I can’t really make an unbiased assessment.

Administrator - Well then, what do you think the others would say about your leadership?

Subject - I think they’d say I do what I can to keep hope alive for them. Does that make me a good leader? I don’t know.

Kim and Trey had dug the graves at the base of a beautiful oak tree, its bark thick from the hundreds of seasons it had weathered. At the head of each grave, a makeshift marker had been placed, crosses made out of branches, decorated by the children, the writing of the names Jose and Ana childish but clearly done with the utmost care.

Jenny had kept the children occupied while the others had moved the bodies from the station and placed them in the graves. Craig had insisted he be brought out to the service, even if it meant he had to lay there on the backboard. Even the watch had been put on hold, the group deciding it was worth the risk so that they could all pay their respects together.

The sun was setting behind them as they gathered around the graves, silent except for the occasional sniffle. As the silence continued to stretch, Malcolm looked up and realized that they were waiting for him to take the lead.

He stepped forward, looking down at the markers as he tried to order his thoughts before addressing the group.

“I didn’t know Jose and Ana very well but I know that they were special to my sister and her kids. They looked out for them when I wasn’t around to do it and I’ll be forever grateful for that.”

He met Kim’s eyes across the circle. “They were good people. Jose risked his life to help strangers. Ana looked out for all of us, making sure we ate and slept when we needed it. I think they did it because they saw us as their family.”

He looked around at the gathered mourners. They stood together, leaning on one another, clasping hands, linked together in an unbroken line.

“I can see why they felt like that. We haven’t known each other for long but we’ve been through a lot. We might fight and yell and cry but we still work together for a common good. I think that’s what makes a family and I think that’s what made us family to them.”

“We need to remember that in the coming days. We will honour the memory of Jose and Ana by remembering we’re a family and working together to help each other.” He smiled ruefully. “I’m sure there’s still going to be plenty of fighting, yelling and crying but we just got to remember Jose and Ana and what they would have wanted for us: to keep being a family.”

There were watery smiles reflected back and he knew that he had done right. Not just by the Garcias, but by the group as a whole. He had told them what they needed to hear so that they could keep going. They needed something to believe in if they were going to survive this.

Alan and Trey took up the shovels and the sound of dirt hitting the plastic tarps filled the air. The others began to slowly disperse, Janet shepherding the kids back to the camp with Claudia in tow. Kim followed, taking Jenny’s arm to support her as she continued to cry.

Malcolm looked to Quinton, who stood silently at the graves, watching the dirt get shovelled in. “Mind helping me get Craig back to his tent?”

Quinton’s eyes remained on the graves but he nodded, taking one last look before he pulled himself away and followed Malcolm.

Craig had nodded off again, still fighting the effects of the anaesthesia and the painkillers Lorraine had given him. His eyes flickered open when they lifted the backboard and he groaned, blinking groggily before shutting them. By the time they got him back in the tent, he was snoring softly and didn’t move a muscle as they set him on the cot.

They left Lorraine to watch over Craig as he slept, Quinton telling her he would be back in a bit to relieve her. Malcolm knew that even with the doc there, Lorraine would not be moving far from Craig’s side. Whether it was guilt or genuine affection or a bit of both, something was compelling her to watch over him night and day.

Malcolm took a deep breath as they emerged into the fresh night air, looking up at the sky where stars were beginning to twinkle in the growing darkness. Quinton came to stand beside him, taking in the sight as well.

“Look, Malcolm, I’m a realist. I’ve always been able to be rational and logical. It’s what makes me a good surgeon. Logic says it would be safer for your group to get out of here.” Malcolm looked over at the younger man, who met his gaze and gave a quick shrug of his shoulder. “We both know my sister and Travis aren’t coming back. It’s closing on two days they’ve been out there. If they were coming, they’d be here already.”

“Don’t give up hope yet. They might be making their way here on foot, that would take time.”

Malcolm didn’t know if he was trying to reassure Quinton or himself. He had never left a man behind and today he’d left two behind. He didn’t even know the girl but the loss of her was still on his shoulders.

“You shouldn’t risk the group’s safety on a possibility.”

“That’s all I’ve been doing since we got together,” Malcolm told him. “Pulling them off the highway, coming to this camp…there were all sorts of risks involved but I chanced them for a possibility. I’ve weighed the risks and I think it’s worth it to stay.”

Quinton shook his head ruefully. “I thought leaders were supposed to be practical. The greater good of the group always comes first.”

“Well I think that staying here is for the greater good. We’ve already lost two of our own, I can’t ask them to then accept leaving two more of our people behind.”

“Our people, huh?” Quinton said with a half smile. “Does that mean we’re officially in the club?”

“Yeah, your lifetime memberships were approved right around the time your sister saved my niece and nephews. You okay with being a part of it?”

Quinton nodded and they shook hands, Malcolm clapping a hand on Quinton’s shoulder.  

“Good. I get the feeling that down the road we’re gonna be glad we’ve got a doctor around.”

“Speaking as your doctor, you need to get some real sleep,” Quinton said, looking him up and down. “A cat nap isn’t going to do it for you, you need a solid eight hours. You look like you’re about ready to drop any second.”

At the mention of his state, it hit him how exhausted he felt. Every muscle in his body ached and his face felt greasy, his eyes dry and scratchy every time he blinked. It had been over twenty hours since he had gotten more than a couple hours sleep.

“You’re right,” Malcolm said, rubbing a hand over his face, the stubble on his chin scratching against his palm. “When I get up, we’ll figure out a way to find your sister and Travis.”

Quinton nodded his thanks and Malcolm headed to his small tent, exhaustion making his feet heavy. He didn’t even bother to zip the tent flap shut, sprawling out on the sleeping bag to give his body the rest it craved.

His mind sluggishly tried to sort through what needed to be done the moment he awoke but the thoughts were hard to grasp as sleep forced his eyes closed and shut down any thought or worry for the next few hours.

Subject File # 750

Administrator - Tell me about the girls.

Subject - What about them?

Administrator - They aren’t yours and yet you’ve taken them on like they are. Why?

Subject - Because they’re orphans, just like me.

“Do you have any kids?”

Veronica looked over at Audrey, surprised by the question. Jackson had ushered Hannah off to the bathroom to get ready for bed, catching Veronica’s eyes across the fire as he nodded in Audrey’s direction.

As they had planned, he was giving her time alone with the girl to talk but Jackson and Hannah had barely disappeared from the glowing halo of the fire before Audrey was asking her own questions.

“No, I don’t have my own kids,” she replied, “But I’m a highschool teacher so sometimes I feel like I have forty plus kids.”

“Are you married?”

“Nope, no husband for me.”

“Aren’t people your age supposed to be married?”

She had to laugh at that question. It reminded her of some of the older women on the faculty at school. Of course, they had never put their questions so bluntly but there had been subtle prodding about being over thirty and unmarried. It was usually followed up by the mention of a nephew or cousin that was just perfect for her. After a handful of setups she had learned that the women’s idea of perfect for her was as basic as single and breathing.

“There’s not really an age you’re supposed to get married,” she said. “Well, that’s not quite true. There’s rules about being too young to get married but, other than that, there’s no hard and fast rules about when you’re supposed to be married. Some people get married when they turn eighteen and others don’t get married until their eighties. It’s all depends on when you meet the right person.”

“My parents got married their last year of high school. Mama said that everybody told her that they were making a mistake but she said she knew that she’d always love Daddy, no matter what.”

“Your mama was lucky.”

The girl smiled wistfully, resting her cheek on her drawn up knees.

“Yeah, they love each other a lot. I know that some parents stay married even when they don’t love each other anymore but my mama and daddy aren’t like that. They’re really in love, at least I think they are. They’re still always kissing like they do in the movies, all romantic and stuff. It’s gross and embarrassing but I think it means they still love each other.”

The girl hadn’t moved to the past tense with her parents but Veronica didn’t want to push that issue. It was enough that she had the girl talking about them.

“I think it does too. My parents were like that and they were in their fifties. I don’t know how many times I’d walk into the kitchen to find them making out while they were doing the dishes or cooking dinner. You’re right, it was gross and embarrassing, no one wants to see their parents making out.”

Audrey giggled. “One time I caught them kissing and daddy had his hand on my mama’s butt! It was so gross, I almost puked!”

Veronica laughed and they both enjoyed the moment of levity before they drifted back into silence, the girl’s gaze drawn back to the flames.

“I miss them.”

“I miss mine too.”

“What happened to them?”

“They died when we were leaving our house.”

“That’s how mine died too.”

“It sucks. I know as the adult, I should put it a prettier way but I can’t. It just sucks. The worst part is not having a chance to say goodbye. One minute, they’re there and then the next minute, they’re gone.”

“I hate them,” Audrey said, venom dripping from each word. Veronica waited on the girl, unsure who she was referring to but knowing it was best to let the girl speak without peppering her with questions. “Infected. Freaks. Whatever they’re called, I hate them. All of this is their fault. I want them all to die.”

“Me too.” She understood the girl’s sentiment on a primal level. Intellectually she knew that the infected were blameless; it wasn’t their fault that the infection had turned them into monsters. And yet she’d taken out her anger on the infected man at the sheriff’s station, needing to find somewhere to direct her grief.

“At the garage, you killed a bunch of them. I’ve hurt them but I’ve never killed them,” Audrey told her and then paused, as if she were trying to decide if she should continue, watching Veronica through narrowed eyes. “What was it like?”

Veronica could see the fascination in the girl’s eyes and she took a moment to carefully consider her answer. She knew that when faced with death, children could become obsessed with it, embracing the morbid as they tried to process their feelings.

“To be honest, all I felt was scared. I was scared for me and for you girls and for Jackson. I was scared that more people would die. So I tried to stop that from happening. I didn’t act because I wanted revenge or I wanted to hurt them. I did it because we all needed to get out of there alive. It was about survival.”

Audrey nodded and Veronica watched her gaze slide to the gun Jackson had given her, nestled in the holster that Veronica had found for her in the duffel bag. “Can you teach me how to use it tomorrow?”