The Flu 2: Healing Page 5

  There were no other supplies except for that blanket. A dead man and a half naked woman with her throat slit; Mick didn’t need to be a master detective to know it was an ambush.

  He drew his revolver and looked around. Whoever had done it was gone, but it had been recent. The bodies were still warm. He took a moment to move the woman and man next to each other and he covered them both before returning to the truck.

  “What the hell happened?” Ethan asked.

  “Best I can figure, those two were camping and they were ambushed.”

  “For what? She was naked, Mick, you don’t think …”

  “More than likely, yes.”

  “Christ. That’s wrong. It’s sick. Didn’t we have enough death in this world?” He handed over Baby Doe to Mick. “And it’s scary, too. So close to camp.”

  Mick’s head sprang up as he took hold of the baby. “Oh God.”

  “What?” Ethan asked.

  “It is close. Too close. We need to get moving. Now.”

  Ethan didn’t hesitate; he slammed his foot to the gas and sped away.

  * * *

  Tigger looked happy as he ran about. At least Chris thought he did. Madge told the kids that she was getting lunch and if no one wasted anything, they’d get to go fishing.

  “There’s a lake, you know,” Jake, a boy of twelve, told Chris. He introduced himself at least three times. He seemed nice enough, but nervous. He was a skinny African American boy, with huge hazel eyes. He kept lifting and adjusting his baseball cap, probably to cover his hair that needed a cut.

  He took a liking to Chris, maybe because they were near the same age. There were seven kids not including Chris and Tigger. Two were about the same age as Tigger. One was smaller, a little girl, who was maybe three. And aside from Jake, the other two were older.

  But all of them played. Right in that spot near the edge of camp.

  “It’s a nice lake,” Jake said. “We been there. Ethan said before the flu, fishing was tough there. Now there’s lots. Used to be some old guy that lived in the cabin that took care of the lake but he died. Good thing the flu didn’t kill the fish.”

  “Good thing,” Chris echoed.

  “That your brother?” Jake asked.

  “Yep, he is.”

  “Real brother or after-flu brother?”

  Chris snickered. “He’s my real brother.”

  “You’re lucky, my family died in the flu.”

  “All of them?”

  “Yep. We came up here hoping to stay clear of getting sick. But it didn’t work.”

  “I’m sorry,” Chris said honestly. “That’s horrible. I know how you feel. We came here to get away ‘cause we lost our mom and brother.”

  “You took a vacation?”

  “My stepfather’s idea,” Chris said.

  “Your stepfather? You’re lucky you still have family.” Jake sighed. “Some people came, you know, and took some kids with them. I guess ‘cause their own died, but they left the older ones. That was before Emmie. Someone surely would have taken her.” He pointed to the little girl. “She got here just before you. Ethan found her on the road. She was just walking by herself.”

  “Wow, that’s terrible.” Chris shook his head. “Well, you know, you are welcome to come with us when we leave and go back home.”

  “Really?”

  “Oh, sure, unless you wanna stay here. But we have a nice town, too.”

  “We should bring Emmie …” Suddenly, Jake laughed. “Look at her chasing your brother. She must like him ‘cause they’re same age.”

  “He’s just small. Born with a condition that don’t allow him to grow.” Chris stood when he saw Tigger diligently trying to avoid the little girl who clung to him. He called to his brother. “Tig!”

  “She won’t stop kissing me, Chris,” Tigger said. “I tried to tell her I’m not looking for a relationship, but she can’t talk.”

  Chris smiled. “Be nice.” Just as Chris reached down to Tigger’s arm, the heard a loud bang.

  “What was that?” Tigger asked.

  “I don’t know.” Chris shook his head.

  Two more bangs caused Chris to not only jolt, but he grabbed on to Tigger for dear life and headed for the mobile home.

  * * *

  Tom didn’t stop. With determined steps, he strode directly to his store, went in the back and grabbed his shotgun.

  A short distance radio was all he had to work with as a fast, effective means to get hold of those he had deemed able bodied enough to be the ‘watchdogs’ of Lodi.

  Reality hit Tom when he arrived at his truck to find Rose waiting to go and about three other men.

  He turned to Lars. “Is this it?”

  “I can go,” Lars said. “I don’t have a problem.”

  “No, I need you here in case something goes wrong,” Tom told him. “Where are our young fit men?”

  “You sent four of them out on the trucks,” Lars replied. “We can’t spare Buzz, he’s all we have around here as trained law. And Tom, most of our young and fit died in the flu. The majority of our surviving adult male population is over forty.”

  Tom closed his eyes. “Well, I said I needed four men. Glad I have these guys.” He waved out his hand. “Load in.” It was then he saw Rose getting ready to jump in the truck. “Rose, what in tarnation are you doing?”

  “Going.”

  “I wanted men to go.”

  “Yeah, well, tough,” Rose said. “I’m a better shot.”

  “Still, Rose, you’re a woman.”

  “You gotta problem with women?”

  Tom stammered for an answer.

  “You tell me if you don’t think I’m tougher than most of the fucking men in Lodi. You tell me that, I’ll stay back.”

  Tom stared and then growled. “I can’t. You got me beat, that’s for sure. Get in.”

  Rose did and then Tom opened his driver’s door and got into the truck.

  Lars walked around and closed it. “Be careful, Tom. I hope everything is okay.”

  “Well …” Tom twitched his head and spoke calmly. “My trucks are two hours late and our closest town is aflame. I’d say chances are it’s not.” He nodded to Lars, started his truck and took off.

  * * *

  Las Vegas, NV

  One of Lexi’s biggest fears was that she and Bill would run out of gas or the car would break down in the desert.

  They had a plan for gas on the journey. A small generator would help to pump gas from the storage wells at abandoned stations. Unfortunately, a long stretch of road through the California desert didn’t reveal a gas station and they traveled on a wing and a prayer that they wouldn’t break down or run out.

  They used their last five gallon container to make it the rest of the way. They sputtered the final distance into Sin City, pulling over at a station just before town.

  Vegas looked orange. A dusty hue covered the city and the sun reflected off the buildings causing the illusion of fire. Dirt and sand covered the gas station lot and they almost had to dig their way to the reserve well.

  The highway wasn’t much different. It looked like a sandstorm had moved in, but Bill told her, no movement on the road, no clearing of the dirt and sand. With the steady, warm air, sand just rolled in.

  “I always wanted to see Vegas,” Lexi told Bill.

  “Then we might as well stop for the night.”

  Not that it was anywhere near nightfall, but they had a country to cross. At least that was the plan.

  It was scary though, what would Vegas hold? Would anyone be there? Maybe on the outskirts, but on the strip?

  “I was here once,” Bill said. “Isabella and I came here to get married.”

  “I didn’t know you were married.”

  “We chickened out.”

  Lexi laughed with a toss of her head and then she saw what looked like a light. Actually, the hotel name seemed to be illuminated.

  “Do they have power there?” she asked.


  “Has to be an optical illusion,” Bill suggested. “It has to be. Or a mirage?”

  “Ha, ha, ha, the irony,” Lexi said as they pulled slowly down the strip. “Wait, ” she instructed.

  Bill did. “What’s up?”

  “Pull over.”

  He turned the wheel, pulling the car under the protective covering of the hotel’s ‘drop off’ area. “What’s going on?”

  “I saw something.” Lexi opened the car door and gasped as the heat once again pelted her. She waved her hand and focused, then crossed the street. “There. Look.” She pointed.

  Footprints danced about the sand. It looked like more than one person; in fact, there were several sets.

  “You gotta be kidding me,” Bill said. “Vegas is still running.”

  “They have to be fresh or they wouldn’t still be here, not with the way the sand is blowing. They lead that way.”

  Her indication was once again to the hotel in the distance that appeared to have power. They followed the footprints to the huge casino. They knew right away, the establishment did indeed have power.

  The opening of the doors brought the cool, crisp, welcoming wave of air conditioning.

  There wasn’t a soul about, yet there were numerous electronic machines beeping and music was playing. That and another sound … coughing.

  Bill looked left to right, and walked by the rows of brightly lit video slot machines. He motioned his head toward the source of the sound.

  Beeping, music, coughing.

  “Hello?” Lexi called.

  No reply.

  “Over there,” Bill whispered, placing a guiding hand on Lexi’s arm.

  A few more steps and a turn of the bend brought them to the source. A man in his fifties, sat before the video slot machine. He sipped from a bottle of whiskey as he tapped the slot machine buttons.

  The machine went wild with noise. He coughed uncontrollably.

  “Hello?” Lexi tried again.

  “I thought I heard someone,” he said, not turning from the slot machine. “Welcome to Vegas.”

  “Are you the only one here?” Bill asked.

  He shook his head. “Nah, there’s others. They’re around. We got the power back on. Machines work. Bar’s open.”

  Lexi looked at Bill then to the man. “Are you alright?”

  “Yep.” He slammed his hand on the machine and coughed. “Damn it, all these years I come here. Now that it doesn’t matter … how about this …” He looked at Lexi and Bill. “I got the progressive jackpot.”

  Lexi finally got a look at his face. She saw the gray pallor, dark circles under his eyes, cracked and bleeding lips, and mucus dripping down his chin. He returned to his game. Lexi lifted her eyes to Bill. “The progressive …” she whispered. “That’s not all he’s got.”

  6. Gone

  The second they turned on to the roadway leading to the camp, Mick knew. His gut screamed to him that they were too late, that something had happened within the camp.

  The two trucks that had served as a blockade were moved completely off the road and as they approached the fence, they saw that not only was it down, but small fires sent warning smoke signals in the air.

  “No!” Ethan cried. He sped up, drove quickly through the gate and stopped suddenly in the middle of the camp. He flung open the truck door and raced out.

  Mick didn’t hesitate either, but he was hindered by the baby in his arms.

  Ethan’s hands went to his head in disbelief and he spun in circles. Three of the campers were burned, two of the wheels on Mick’s SUV had been removed, and his camper door was wide open.

  There was a silence to the camp. No sounds at all. And no children laughing.

  Heart thumping in his chest and gut wrenching with fear, Mick opened the back of his SUV and placed Baby Doe in the blanket on the floor. The child didn’t move much and slept as he sipped occasionally on the bottle. The victory Mick felt in his progress with the child was overshadowed by the dismal situation at the camp.

  “Where are they?” Mick groaned and pulled his revolver. He charged into the camper. “Chris! Tigger!”

  The camper wasn’t big and it was evident they weren’t there. “Chris! Tigger!” Mick yelled louder when he stepped out of the camper.

  He looked over to the area where the children had been playing. That was when he spotted a pair of legs. With a painful groan, Mick raced over, afraid to see the rest of the body.

  It was a young man; his throat had been sliced. Mick saw this as he turned him over. He wasn’t much older than Chris, and a heartbreaking pain shot through Mick. He lowered his head for a second then stood.

  His body was huge and so was his voice, and with every ounce of strength and every bit of his lung capacity, Mick blasted out his loudest for his sons.

  “CHRIS! TIGGER!”

  His voice echoed in the woods around them.

  There was no response

  “Mick.”

  He jumped, startled when Ethan called. He didn’t like the tone of Ethan’s voice, and his heart dropped to his stomach. He pleaded in his mind Please don’t let it be about my sons.

  If anything had happened to them, Mick would never forgive himself. He was beating himself up over what had happened and he didn’t even know what that was.

  Why had he left? It was evident that the small camp had been raided. All of Mick’s things that had sat outside his camper were gone. The bug out bag and sleeping roll were missing from the back seat of the SUV. There wasn’t a single camper with a closed door and the supply shed was smoldering.

  “Mick,” Ethan called again.

  Mick looked, and from around the corner, Ethan came walking with Madge. He seemed to be carrying her with her feet dragging as she held on to her stomach.

  He rushed to them.

  “She’s been shot,” Ethan said. “She’s bleeding bad.”

  “Let me take a look.” Mick pulled her hand and looked at the wound. “It’s to the side and it went straight through, not a straight belly shot.”

  “I’m sorry,” Madge whimpered. “I’m sorry. We tried. We tried to stop them. Liam got it first and then when me and Sara pulled weapons to get them to go, they just went haywire.” Madge lowered her head and cried.

  Mick swiped his hand down his face and tried to gain control. “Where are all the kids?”

  Madge shook her head. “They got Bobby Miller. I think they thought he was older. He was the only one I saw them kill. I … I got shot right after.”

  “How many were there?” Mick asked.

  Madge shook her head. “Six I think. Not sure.” She winced. “But they took everything and I think they took the kids.”

  “Do you know what they look like? What they drove? How long ago they left? I know this is a lot of questions.”

  “It was about an hour ago, maybe less. And I can’t tell you what they looked like, but I do know they were military.”

  Ethan locked eyes with Mick. “Military? Does that sound right?”

  “Not at all,” Mick responded.

  “They were wearing military uniforms,” Madge said.

  “Okay, listen, Ethan,” said Mick. “You got enough reserve gas in the truck. Take your mom and Baby Doe, get out of here and head to Lodi. Keep pressure on her wound and keep her lying down. Maybe have her hold Doe in the back.”

  “But Mick—”

  Mick held up his hand. “Do not stop. Do not hesitate, hightail it. Take the highway south then head west. You can’t miss the signs. Top speed will get you there in a couple of hours and your mom should be fine. Look for Lars Rayburn - he’s a doctor - then tell him what happened.” He walked toward the SUV, reached in the back, and picked up Baby Doe.

  “What are you gonna do?” Ethan asked.

  Mick looked up and around. “It hasn’t been that long, they can’t be all that far. I’ll follow a trail. Something. But I guarantee this … I’m not stopping,” Mick said, “until I find my kids.”

  * * * />
  Whispering, ‘Go, go, go!’ Chris urged everyone into the cabin and shut the door quietly. He hunched down and reached up to turn the lock.

  “Jake, keep an eye out that window. Make sure no one is coming. Don’t let them see you.”

  Jake hurried to the window and stood off to the side. “No one knows about the cabin. I think we’re safe here.”

  “If there’s a road here, they’ll find it. We can’t stay for long. We got to get what we can, rest for a second and head out.” Chris set down the bug out bag and sleeping roll. “I’m just glad you knew about this place.” He turned to Tigger. “Can you stop her from crying?”

  “How?” Tigger tossed up his hands. “She’s a baby! I ain’t big enough to lift her.” He looked at Emmie. “Hey! Stop crying. Now.”

  Emmie stifled her sobs, hyperventilating some.

  “Hey, it worked,” Tigger said.

  The one room fishing cabin wasn’t large. Chris grabbed the blanket from the cot and tossed it to the floor. He’d roll it up later.

  “What all you looking for?” Jake asked.

  “Some food to get us to the next stop, things to keep us warm. Maybe something we can use as a weapon.”

  “They have guns, Chris. I don’t think we can compete with that.”

  “We’re gonna try now, aren’t we?”

  Tigger said, “You know there’s food in Mick’s bag, right? And matches.”

  “I know.”

  “Maybe,” Jake spoke up, “we shouldn’t take anything important or a lot.”

  “Why do you say that?” Chris asked.

  “Because if they find this place and it looks like stuff was taken, they may know it was us and come looking for us.”

  Chris stopped. Jake made perfect sense. “How’d you know to think about that?”

  Jake bit his bottom lip. “When I was six, my dad kidnapped me. Well, he picked me up at school and said we were going away on a long vacation. We were running all the time.”

  “No way, that’s a pretty cool story,” Chris said then plopped to the floor.