Sleepers Read online

  Blood saturated the lower portion of the sheet that covered the young girl.

  I thought I was dreaming. I had to have been dreaming, because the sheet was moving beneath the bloody mess.

  It felt surreal.

  My balance was off and I released heavy breaths as I staggered to the table. I was shaken and afraid to look. But the closer I stepped, the more seconds that went by, I realized it wasn’t a dream. The sheet was moving and I reached out my hand and grabbed it. My dizziness caused me to lose some balance and as I swayed, I pulled the sheet. The entire sheet, still in my grip, slid from her body. Exposed between her legs, the bloody placenta with umbilical cord and attached to that, was the moving newborn.

  A breathy scream escaped me without control and I lunged for that table.

  The child was moving. It was covered with gunk and blood; it struggled to open its mouth and eyes. Eyes. It had eyes. No, he had eyes. It was a boy.

  “Oh, God,” I gasped out. “Beck!” I shouted. “Alex!”

  I lifted the child the best I could, trying not to detach it from the cord. I leaned close to the table and frantically yet gently tried to clear his eyes and mouth. Using my index finger, I opened his mouth so he could breath. “Beck! Alex!”

  Within seconds, Beck flew in. “Mera. What happened? Are you . . .” Then he saw what I was doing. Beck froze.

  “Where the hell have you been?” Alex rushed into the room. “Don’t you know . . .” He stopped at the foot of the bed.

  “He’s alive,” I said. “He’s alive and normal.”

  Alex paused, but only for a second. He swung a point to Beck. “Get a cloth or gauze. Wet it down with the saline on the wall. Then find me a blanket.” He spun to me as he rushed to the cabinets. “Mera, keep trying to clear his mouth and nose. He can’t breathe properly, his passages are blocked.”

  I focused on the child. His eyes opened.

  I could hear Alex rummaging around. “Try to get him to cry. Did he cry yet?”

  “Not yet.”

  “Get him to cry. Keep his head up. Careful with the cord.”

  I knew all that. I was the paranoid pregnant woman who read up on what to do if I didn’t make it to the hospital.

  “Here.” Beck handed me the wet gauze.

  I lifted my eyes to Beck for a moment. “Thank you.” I began to wipe the baby’s face. “Come on, baby, cry. Come on.”

  “Is he breathing?” Beck asked.

  “Yes. But it’s shallow.”

  “This is unreal,” Beck whispered in shock.” I saw babies born after the event. They weren’t like him.”

  Alex shouted a ‘found them’ and before I knew it he was at the table with me. “Hold him up.”

  As slippery as he was, I held him.

  Alex had a suction bulb; he moved fast and placed it to the child’s nostrils. The baby squirmed. “It’s clearing.” He lifted his eyes to Beck. “We’re gonna need more wet cloths to wash him off. Can you get that?”

  “Got it,” Beck replied.

  Then Alex looked to me. “When did this happen?”

  “I don’t know. It was sometime after you knocked me out.”

  “I did what?” Alex asked as he suctioned the child’s mouth. “Still not crying.” Then without skipping a beat, Alex grabbed his foot and flicked it twice.

  The child cried. He sounded like a cat, but he cried nonetheless.

  For the first time, I saw Alex grin. “Good boy.” He placed a clamp on the cord and cut it. He reached for the blanket that Beck had placed by the child, placed it between my arms and the infant and lifted the baby from my hold.

  He had to have seen it in my face. I felt heartbroken when he took the child.

  “You can have him back when I’m done,” Alex said. “But first, Beck, take care of her head, please.”

  My head. I totally forgot I was injured. A few moments later Beck eased me into a chair and stood over me with some medical supplies. He placed a wet cloth to my head; it stung at first. Wiping my face like a dirty child, Beck said something about it not needing stitches.

  I didn’t care.

  “You have a bad bump. How are you feeling?”

  “I’m fine,” I answered in a daze. But sitting in the chair, I didn’t care if I bled, needed stitches, or my head had a huge bump. Or even that there were Sleepers on the road. It didn’t matter. All I worried about at that moment was that baby.

  That was my only focus.

  19. Bundle of Reason

  It had been a few hours and even though I hadn’t grown very fond of Alex Sans, I was extremely grateful for the knowledge he carried in regards to medicine.

  He gave me an injection of pain medication before we left the hospital. Not a full dose, enough to take off the edge. I didn’t have an edge at that point; my adrenaline was pumping over finding the baby.

  But after we successfully made our way around the dozen or so Sleepers on the lawn of the hospital, I felt pressure, like a migraine. No pain, just pressure. It was then I realized what taking off the edge meant.

  He had more if I needed it. I was sure I would.

  We stopped at the Walgreens for baby supplies, I stayed with the baby in the truck, holding him close to my chest and checking every ten seconds to make sure he was still breathing.

  He was.

  He was tiny, maybe five pounds. His eyes stayed open and he stared at me, nibbling on the edge of my finger and whimpering occasionally. He was hungry, but there was nothing we could do about it until we got back to the haven and sterilized some bottles.

  Everyone seemed to have a different reaction to the baby.

  Alex, well, he seemed to not even want to acknowledge the child beyond what he had to do. He seemed more concerned with my head injury and my son, racing straight into the house with that IV bag before I was even out of the truck.

  Beck was shocked but he didn’t look at the baby, almost as if it were too painful. I understood why. His own son was only three months old when he was taken in the event.

  When we stepped inside everyone seemed more focused on the fact that Alex rushed into the bedroom with the life-saving antibiotics rather than noticing I had a blanket in my arms. Beck immediately started preparing bottles.

  I walked right by Missy and Randy; they didn’t even see him.

  Danny, though, he noticed right away. He immediately bounced forward with enthusiasm, only to be told by Alex to hang back. He wasn’t done.

  “Mom? Can I see?” Danny asked.

  That was just before Bill tossed down the remote to the game and rushed to my side. “You found a baby.”

  I brought the baby with me and sat on the edge of the bed. “Look how precious.”

  Danny’s finger reached out. “He’s so small.”

  “I know.”

  Bill sat down next to me. “I thought all babies . . . I mean, all children . . .”

  “Apparently not this one.” I whispered.

  Bill has this wide innocent smile on his face, almost as if in awe. “Can I hold him?”

  “No.” I said. “I don’t want to let him go yet.”

  Alex shook his head. “She’s been like that. Hasn’t put him down or taken her eyes off of him.”

  Danny asked me. “Did you find him?”

  I shrugged. “More or less. His mother was a Sleeper, pregnant, Alex shot her in the head. The baby came.”

  Danny lifted his eyes to Alex who was finishing the IV. “Dude, you shot a pregnant woman in the head.”

  Alex nodded. “I also knocked out your mother by accident too. Been a hell of a day. All done.” Alex stepped back. “I’m pretty confident that will do the trick. The infection isn’t too bad yet. I think it’s probably a combo of the human bite and raw surgery. Let’s kick it in the ass.” He walked to the door. “I’ll check on you in a bit.”

  “Thanks,” Danny said. “Oh, hey, Alex. You didn’t say anything. What do you think about finding the baby?”

  Alex looked very seriously at
Danny. “I don’t.” He tapped his hand once on the door frame and left.

  “Wow.” Bill blinked. “That was harsh. Anyhow . . . are you sure I can’t hold him, just a second.”

  I shook my head. “No. Not yet. After I feed him. Okay?”

  Bill nodded. “I’ll wait. This is cool, Mera. A baby. This is hope.”

  “I know.” I grinned.

  “What are you gonna name him?” Danny questioned. “Or did you?”

  “Not yet,” I replied. “I will.”

  “Call him George,” Danny suggested.

  “Or Spencer,” added Bill.

  I laughed. “No. Whatever I decide to name him will be important and mean something.”

  Bill shrugged. “I’m sure Spencer or George means something.”

  “I’m sure.” I stood. “Okay, I’m gonna go feed him. I’ll be back.” I waited until I received a nod from them and I turned and walked from the room.

  It was when I re-entered the living room it was evident that Randy and Missy had figured out what I had in my arms.

  Missy slowly moved to me. It was clear she was still in shock over her children and the sight of the baby was too much. She reached out, her hand trembling, and she looked at him. The second her fingers trailed over his head she burst into tears, spun and ran to the couch.

  Randy was smiling, a peaceful smile, and he lifted the blanket to take a peek. “Probably need some clothes for the little guy. We should make it a point to stop somewhere on the way to Seattle.”

  “We should.” I looked up to Randy and gave a quirky smile. “That’s really perceptive of you to pick up that he was a boy. Or did Beck tell you.”

  Randy shook his head. “He just looks like a little boy.” Randy chuckled. “His eyes are open.” His huge fingers trailed over the baby’s head. “He keeps staring at you like he knows ya.”

  “He probably knows I have to feed him. And name him. I have to give him a name. But I really want to give it some thought. You know?”

  Randy nodded.

  “Bill and Danny suggested I name him George or Spencer. You have any suggestions you want to throw out?”

  “Nope.” Randy replied then closed his mouth tightly with a shake of his head. “That’s your duty. You pick out the name. He is a strong little boy. He has to be. Look at the world he has to face.”

  I cradled the baby closer and closed my eyes as my cheek brushed against the softness of his skin. I didn’t reply. There was no need, because I couldn’t agree more with what Randy had said.

  ****

  Beck had impressively made the bottles. He filled enough that he believed would get us through the night and into the morning. He was tired and went to get some sleep. He told me he’d be more than happy to take over baby detail when he woke up to keep watch for Sleepers. He went to bed about nine o’clock.

  I fed the little guy then just because he was tiny, I fed him again in two hours. He was only taking an ounce, and that was normal from what I remembered.

  I was scared. I held him, watching the clock, waiting for another feeding time. About two in the morning, just before Alex went to switch and wake Beck, he went and checked on Danny. Checking on Danny was the only time Alex left his post, which was on the roof of the porch.

  I sat on the porch, feeding the baby yet again

  “He has absolutely no signs of fever now.” Alex told me. “And the arm definitely does not look as red. He’ll be good to get on the road by morning.”

  I thanked him and inside I felt relieved, but a part of me already knew Danny was getting better. Again, that mother instinct overruled the mother worry.

  Alex continued. “To be on the safe side he should do a treatment of antibiotics for ten days. I’m no doctor, but my guess is that would be best.”

  “I’ll make sure of it.”

  “So will I.”

  “We’re leaving tomorrow for Seattle.”

  Alex flashed a quick sarcastic smile. “So am I.”

  That took me by surprise. “I didn’t think you would. I mean, you have it all here and . . .”

  “Except people. And Beck is gonna need some help getting your crew across this country. Finding your daughter is a goal. I like goals. Plus, I’m kind of curious as to what all has gone on out there.”

  “It’ll be good to have you with us.”

  Alex nodded and stepped to the edge of the porch. “Beck will be out soon. You may want to get some sleep, too. How’s the head?”

  “My head is fine. I have a slight headache, but that’s all. Why won’t you look at the baby?”

  Briefly Alex looked over his shoulder at me then continue to stare out. “I did. When he was born.”

  “Don’t you like children?”

  “Oh, I like children. I love them. Wanted a crew of my own one day.” He sighed out.

  “So it’s not personal?”

  Finally, Alex turned to look at me. He had this look upon his face, staring at me as if I were nuts. “What are you talking about? Personal?”

  “Like you knew the mother or lost a child.”

  “No.” He answered quickly and turned back around.

  “I didn’t name him yet. I’m still thinking.”

  “I wouldn’t name him at all.”

  “Alex.” Slowly I stood. “Why would you say something like that? Why don’t you like this baby?”

  He chuckled, and arms folded tight to his body he turned around. “It has nothing to do with like, Mera. It’s not personal. I don’t want to look at him. I don’t want to name him. I don’t want to know him, like him or get attached. Okay?”

  I hesitated to ask ‘why’. In fact, I did hesitate, but the word slipped out of me softly and it cracked when I asked.

  He pursed his lips, swallowed and stepped closer. “Look at him. He’s little. Hell, if he’s five pounds we’re lucky. And he’s early, too. You know that. He’s a preemie; his mother was one of those infected. Lord knows what went though his veins and how long he was deprived of oxygen. He doesn’t stand a chance. It’s hard but it’s the truth.”

  Alex’s words cut and took away my breath. I just stared at the baby. “Stop it.” I told him. “Don’t say anymore.”

  “Why? Because you can’t face the truth? I don’t look at him, Mera, because I don’t want to like him or get attached. You look at him like a hero that rose from the ashes. Well, how you gonna feel when you wake up in a day, maybe two and that little guy ain’t looking back at you. Did you ask yourself that question?”

  “No.” I said strongly then lowered my voice. “No. You know why? Because he’s not gonna die. He survived, Alex. When all the other children in the world died, he lived. The question I ask myself isn’t what am I gonna do when he dies, it’s, when other newborns were stillborn, why he was born alive. Why this child? Huh? Why? I’ll tell you. Because there’s something special about him. We just don’t know what it is yet.” Not wanting to give Alex a chance to say anything else or to bring me down, I took the baby and I went inside. And I went inside certain that Alex Sans was wrong.

  20. Forward March

  The thumping headache caused me to wake up but panic caused me to spring form the loveseat where I had fallen asleep with the baby just before dawn.

  I moved cautiously so as not to wake or stir the baby. But he wasn’t there. He was gone. At first I thought I rolled over on him, but I was still in the semi upright position. I checked the creases of the loveseat the cushions. My heart sunk. Had he, like the other children, simply turned to dust? I searched for answers to that question.

  “You okay?” Randy asked, startling me as he walked up behind me.

  I spun around, out of breath, still half asleep. “The baby . . . I can’t find the baby.”

  Sipping his coffee as if it were no big deal, Randy pointed backwards with his thumb. “Beck has him in the kitchen. There’s coffee in . ..”

  Before he finished, I flew by him into the kitchen. Sliding to a stop, I caught my breath when I saw Beck a
t the table burping the baby. “Is he okay?” I asked.

  “Mera, he’s fine. Are you okay?”

  “No.” I shook my head and stepped to him. “I was scared. I thought something happened to him.” I held out my hands for the baby.

  Beck peered at me with his big brown eyes. “You were sleeping. He was stirring. You needed to rest. You had a head injury. Why are you holding out your hands to me?”

  “To take the baby.”

  “I have him.”

  “But I can take him now.” I wiggled my fingers.

  Almost taking offense, Beck said. “I have him. He’s fine. I’m a good father, I can handle a newborn. Get a cup of coffee, get your bearings then take a shower.”

  “Oh my God, do I stink?”

  “Huh?” Beck laughed. “No. We’ll be leaving soon. You may want to get one. Who knows when you’ll see a shower again.”

  I nodded. “You’re right. Are you sure you don’t want me to . ..”

  “I got him.”

  I walked to the coffee pot and poured a cup of coffee. When I turned around I saw that Randy had slipped into the kitchen and was just then having a seat at the table.

  Beck’s hand smoothed in circles over the baby’s back. The child look even tinier resting against Beck’s broad shoulders. Then a burp rang out.

  The corner of Beck’s mouth raised and he smoke in a smooth, higher tone. “Whoa, that’s a big burp coming from such a little guy. Yeah. You’re a little guy.” He brought the baby around to peer at him then brushed his lips against the child’s nose, closing his eyes for a moment. A moment I assumed was remembrance and sadness for his infant boy.

  It probably was instinct, but as I sat down I extended my hands once again,

  Beck slipped from his moment, opening his eyes and seeing my hands. “Do that one more time, ask to take him one more time, and I won’t give him to you. I got him. Drink your coffee.”

  “Sorry.” I retracted my hands. “I named him last night.”