Last Woman 2 Page 6

  I moved the foot, slid out of bed, and stretched to work out the kinks.

  Bud was in the bed next to us and when I looked over, his eyes were open causing me to jump. Then he blinked.

  "Christ, Bud," I said in a whisper. "You're awake."

  "Whatcha think? I was dead?"

  "Yes."

  "Probably looked that way, who can sleep with the ruckus and the choppers."

  "Then Faye heard them?" I asked.

  "More than likely. I heard her step out before you woke." Bud sat up and stretched. "She's getting cleaned up. Then making food before we leave. Tyler told her to use the green soap and not the purple. Then she said you were an asshole."

  "Me?"

  Bud shrugged and stood. "Yep. You. Guess she liked the purple soap. I liked the purple soap. Smelled too female for me though."

  "That's the reason she can't use the purple soap." I looked down on at my watch, it was just after six am. "We'll let the boys sleep a little more. I'll be back."

  "Where you going?"

  "Making sure everything is okay." My boots were in the kitchen area of the cabin, and I grabbed the chair, pulled it out and sat down. I didn't lace my boots, only put them on with a stomp and when I stood grabbing my flannel shirt, that's when I noticed.

  I didn't see Tyler. I peered again out the window and to the chair on the porch.

  He wasn't there.

  At first it worried me then I thought he probably walked Faye to the shower room since the one in the main cabin didn't work. He would have walked her there, and hung out to make sure everything was fine.

  I opened the door and realized that wasn't the case. Faye wasn't fine.

  The moment I stepped on to the porch, I heard Faye scream.

  FIFTEEN - FAYE

  Tyler took the night watch and was sitting on the porch when I slipped out to get cleaned up. When I told him I wanted to clean up, he asked me to stay put, checked out the building and lit a kerosene heater.

  It was a chilly morning, and I wasn't looking forward to washing with cold water. Bud had used the generator to get the pumps working and the water flowed in the main shower building...cold water that was.

  The little heater made the space toasty warm, and though he was supposed to be on the porch, Tyler sat on the path waiting for me to finish.

  I washed in spurts, talking intermittently to Tyler.

  We had seen the chopper when we walked toward the shower building, and it made a couple more passes.

  "I don't think it saw you," he said from outside.

  "I hope not." I shuddered as the cold cloth ran over my chest. I used the green soap as recommended. It was strong and soapy smelling. I never liked it even before the virus, but at least I would smell like everyone else. Except Darie, who was hard put to let us wash him. I think it is a fear that goes back to the first day we met him, when he was coated in a layer of dead flesh and maggots. Dodge had to pull each and every maggot from his hair.

  After finishing, I stayed close to the heater to stay warm and got dressed, even wearing those ridiculous heavy man boots Dodge insisted on.

  "You never know when we're gonna have to hike it or run," Dodge said. "So the flip flops are out."

  Hike it or run? I could barely walk in those boots. But like with the soap, I'd do it.

  I felt good and was ready to make some breakfast for the kids. We had powdered eggs and I'd cook that up with a can of corned beef hash. Dodge would be happy since I inundated him with Spam for breakfast.

  Dodge.

  I thought a lot about him before I fell asleep and when I woke up, I peeked in on the boys cuddled and crowding Dodge on the bed.

  Dodge was a good man. He gave me hope that people would keep their humanity even in the wake of a ravaged world.

  Not wanting to cause a fire, I reached for the heater, but stopped. "Ty," I called out. "Is there a special way to shut this off? Do I just turn the knob or will the kerosene still seep?"

  I didn't get a reply.

  "Tyler?" I walked to the door. Had he left to go back to the house? He wasn't sitting directly by the door, but a few paces down the path. He heard me every other time I called out.

  Thinking it was strange that he would leave the 'Faye Washing' post without telling me, I walked to the door.

  Turning the handing, I pulled it open, calling out his name. "Tyler."

  Hank stood there. The man from the highway. It took me by surprise and I jumped.

  "Hey there. Faye is it?"

  I didn't have time to register if he were alone or if that other guy, Powell, was with him. Instinctive I knew it wasn't a good situation and without hesitation, I tried to shut the door.

  Too slow. Too late. Hank pushed forward grabbed for my arm and yanked me out, before I could scream, he pulled me into him and covered my mouth.

  My eyes watered from the stench of his fingers that pressed hard under my nose. They smelled foul.

  He held me around the waist, my back pressed to his chest. I squirmed, I wasn't going to be an easy take. I wasn't some Martial arts master or rough, tough Mad Max woman who could perform phenomenal fighting feats. I was just scared and that worsened when I saw the snide look on Powell's face as he approached.

  He retracted a fist, I saw it coming. With everything I had, I reared back my heavy boot, hoping for a connection into Hank's shin.

  I hit him and his grip released at the same time Powell's fist sailed forward.

  In my greatest fantasy, Powell would have hit Hank, but I didn't have time to look, I just ran.

  I didn't make it far, not because they got me, but because I saw Tyler lying on the ground next to his folding chair. There was blood all around him and I screamed.

  Run to the cabin, I thought. Run. Get Dodge. Get help.

  I made it just to the end of the path at the beginning of the clearing before the cabin and I saw Dodge.

  I heaved out the biggest exhale of relief. I focused on him charging my way.

  Hank or Powell, I didn't know which one, grabbed me from behind. But that didn't stop Dodge. He was a blur through my peripheral vision. Everything moved so fast. I watched as Dodge struck forth with a massive blow to whoever was on my left. Then he grabbed him and tossed him down.

  It was Powell.

  Powell laid on the ground and that was when Hank released me.

  "Run," Dodge said.

  Hank went for Dodge and that was a mistake.

  From what I saw, they were no match for an outraged Dodge.

  Again, Dodge battling the two men, hollered, "Run."

  Run where? Then my first instinct was to go to Tyler.

  As I turned, I saw two more men approaching the fight from behind Dodge. Before I could yell out a warning, one of the men, raised a bat and sailed it down towards Dodge as if he were going for a grand slam.

  It struck Dodge against the upper back and then as Dodge teetered forward, the man struck down, hitting Dodge in the head.

  I thought they killed him.

  I saw the blood spray out when it connected and Dodge went down.

  A screamed of fear, worry and need for help rumbled from my belly through my chest.

  Dodge went down.

  The four men pounced viciously on him kicking him, striking him. I didn't know what to do, how to help. My heart raced out of control. Dodge was beaten, Tyler was hurt or worse.

  Tyler.

  Tyler had a gun.

  I spun to race that few feet to Tyler and skidded to a stop with the first blasting and echoing boom of a shotgun.

  A turn of my head, a glance over my shoulder and Powell flew up and backwards from the hit.

  In the time it took to engage the chamber, a second shot was fired. Baseball bat man went down.

  Bud was on the porch of the cabin. He engaged the chamber, shifted his body and blasted the third man.

  He stood on that porch waiting for Hank to stumble to a stand and when he did, Bud shot him as well.

  Both of the
Cash men were down for the count. I yelled, "Help him," to Bud as I turned. "Tyler's hurt."

  I ran as fast as I could to poor Tyler. The young man looked so helpless laying on the ground on his side. There was a pool of blood by his stomach.

  My hands shook as I reached for his shoulder and he groaned.

  I sighed out. He was alive.

  He wasn't shot, it looked as if he were knifed in the gut. Gently I rolled him onto his back and removed my sweatshirt. He bled badly and I didn't know what to do. Cover the wound was all I knew, cover and pressure.

  I placed my bunched up sweatshirt over the huge gash in his gut.

  "Faye," he said weakly. "I'm sorry."

  "No, sweetie. No. It's gonna be fine." I felt the emotions creep up my throat. His face was pale, and on my knees I applied more pressure but I panicked.

  I couldn't breathe. I wanted to scream and cry out. This wasn't happening. It wasn't. I looked around, left to right, wanting help. But this wasn't the old world. There wasn't anyone to call, to come rushing to the aid of a fallen teenager.

  Or was there?

  At the edge of insanity, ready to lose it, he came running down the path. It was soldier, or at least he was dressed like one. He wore camouflage pants, a dirty green tee shirt, and his military cover was open. He slid in like a baseball player and to his knees dropping his backpack.

  "Let me look." He said, removing my trembling hands from the sweatshirt. He lifted the shirt slightly. "Farmer!" He called out. "Hold this." He said to me.

  I did. Who was this man that just rushed in?

  "Farmer! Stat. One down," he called out again.

  A younger man, thin, also in uniform ran down the path toward us. He had a bigger pack which he set down by Tyler's head.

  "I got this, Major."

  The 'major' acknowledge with a nod, and stood. "I'll go assist Lane with the other man."

  My eyes only looked briefly at the major as he walked away then back to Farmer who was reaching in his bag.

  "I'm Lt. Farmer, I'm a flight medic. What is his name?" he asked as he pulled out a syringe.

  "Tyler." I said.

  "Tyler," Farmer spoke to him. "Hey, Tyler, look at me. Open your eyes. Let me know you're with us."

  Tyler opened his eyes.

  "Good. Good boy. You're gonna be okay," Farmer said. "I'm gonna give you something right now for the pain and it will relax you so I can help. And another injection of antibiotics. Don't need you getting sick."

  Farmer worked quickly injecting the medication into Tyler then scooting down more toward the wound. He flapped open the backpack which was filled with different items. I didn't know what they were, they looked like bandages.

  After ripping open what looked like a huge gauze pad, Farmer removed the sweatshirt. "Looks like a hunting knife." He examined the wound. His face scrunched up as his fingers probed the wound. "Deep too. Hold this on here." He said to me, then reached back into this bag.

  I held the bandage as Farmer prepared something and the major returned. He was a man of average height and build, nothing extraordinary, but he presented strength and didn't project an overbearing nature. I couldn't tell his age, his face was worn and his brown hair was dashed with some gray. All of which could have occurred after the virus. He looked forty but could have been thirty. I didn't know.

  "How is he?" The major asked about Tyler.

  Farmer exhaled and shook his head. "I don't know. Whatever they gutted him with hit something. We have internal bleeding. What about the man?"

  "Alive. Strong guy. Lane said a couple broken ribs, arm is broken. Head injury. He doesn't think it's a fractured skull or that he has any internal bleeding. He wants you to assess. But nothing a few days rest won't help with. What about him?"

  "We do nothing and the kid bleeds out. I can perform field surgery but ... that's not the best option. Major, he weighs no more than a buck fifty."

  The major looked at me. "Is this your son?"

  I answered quickly, "Yes."

  "Then he goes, too. Stabilize him," The major said to Farmer and turned.

  He goes? My mind raced and I was about to ask what that meant when another solider approached the major.

  "What do you want me to do?" Another soldier asked.

  "Radio Carlisle base. Tell them we're flying in with the mission and an injured male. The rest of the squad can drive there. We'll take first transport down. Administer what is needed for the injured man, and get the men to clear out those bodies. There are kids for crying out loud. Make sure the old man is fine, and needs nothing. Map out the route and leave the kids some candy." The major walked through the path.

  "Ma'am," Farmer called for my attention.

  I looked to him. He held what looked like a huge syringe, but there wasn't a needle. It wasn't clear, it was blue and wide. "What is that?"

  "It's injectable field foam. It will coat the insides and stop the bleeding until we can get him into surgery. We use it in combat. Just need you to hold him still, 'cause I have to go into the wound and inject."

  I nodded, intent on following instructions. "You'll go check on Dodge after this?"

  "The other injured man?" He asked while he worked. "Yes. But Lane is pretty good."

  "Who are you people?" I asked.

  "United States Army. I am at least. Lane is Air force. But what does that matter now right?"

  "What are you doing here?"

  "We were looking for you. Been following you since Pennsylvania."

  "Why?"

  "You're kidding right?" He partially smiled. "You're the last woman. And good thing for you guys, we arrived when we did."

  Everything seemed like a dream, a bad dream. One moment happy family, then next devastated by reality. All I could do was hope for the best and pray it all worked out.

  I stayed with Tyler until Farmer said he was stable. They'd be moving him soon and me for that matter, instructing me to get my things. It was as if I wasn't given a choice, and I had questions. I knew the major could answer them.

  As soon as I emerged into the clearing by the cabin the major in my sights, George ran to me, hugging me as soon as he saw me.

  "I'm okay," I told him.

  "I was worried. How's Ty?"

  "Bad." I told him. "Where's Dodge?" I didn't see Dodge or the bodies.

  "Inside. They are fixing his arm. He's not awake."

  The major must have heard this because he walked to me and interjected. "He'll be out for a day or so, but we believe he'll be fine. We'll give you a few moments to get your things."

  "Wait. Wait." I held up my hands.

  George asked innocently, "Are we leaving?"

  The major answered him. "Son, she's coming with us. We gave the older man directions to where we're going."

  "Where am I going?" I asked. "I can't leave my family."

  "You have an obligation to your country," he said. "An obligation to the human race to go."

  "I'm not going to be a human guinea pig."

  "I give you my word that is not the case. Yes, they'll be tests, but it needs to be done."

  "I'm not going. You can't make me go," I said adamantly.

  "You are absolutely right. My orders are to get you no matter what. Willing or not. But if you tell me you are not going, then I am reporting that I lost you. I don't agree with taking you against your will. Understand?"

  "I understand."

  "Then understand this. Your son is seriously injured. He needs help that we can provide. Without it, when that foam disintegrates, he'll bleed out. Flying him to our survivor camp is his best hope. He goes with you or he doesn't go at all."

  "That's blackmail," I said.

  "Yeah, well ... how about this for blackmail," he told me. "Your family was in danger because of you being a woman. You ... were in danger. Do you think if the old man wouldn't have shot that those men would have left the little ones alone? No. For their protection and yours, this is the best thing."

  My lips pursed and
I felt a lump in my stomach, especially when George whined out a 'no'.

  I turned to George and crouched some. "I don't want to go or leave you. But Tyler needs me to help him."

  "I need you, Faye. Don't you need us, too?"

  "Oh my God with all my heart," I grabbed him and embraced him. "But when big tough Dodge wakes up, he's gonna need you because he's going to be sad. So you keep him strong and get him to me." I pulled back, then cupped his face in my hands. "Okay?"

  He pouted as he nodded.

  I placed my lips to his cheek. "Be strong. I will be thinking of you and waiting for you."

  His head hung and it broke my heart, I hate leaving him and Darie, and I wouldn't go with the soldiers if Tyler didn't need the help. They could help him, from what I witnessed and the way they worked on him right then and there told me they weren't bad men, they were doing their job and that was to get me. While it appeared as if I were leaving without thought, that wasn't the case. I was going for Tyler, Dodge would want that. Refusing to go would endanger Dodge's son. After all we had been through, I would not nor could not let Dodge lose another child.

  As I walked by the major, he stopped me. "I don't mean to be a hard ass. For you and them, this really needs to be done."

  I acknowledged what he said and moved to the cabin. George stayed close behind me. I thought as soon as I stepped inside, how great it would be to be a four year old like Darie. If he was fazed by all that was happening, he had already moved on and was sat at the table playing with a truck.

  Bud made eye contact with me while talking to another soldier. I pointed to the back bedroom, indicating that I was going there. I heard the soldier speaking as I gathered my things. The soldier was explaining to Bud about medication he left, what he was to do, and apparently he had given Bud a speed course on changing IV bags because he mention he left a replacement bag.

  I didn't take much, some pictures and half my clothes. I did however take the Wilkes Watch that I'd had since I woke up in that stadium. I always had it with me, it was with me from the very beginning of my journey.