Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3 (27 page)

“I don’t know. We haven’t figured it out yet.” Graham guided her around the stuff on the floor. “Ennis, Mark—get those girls up and moving.”

Graham took Tala into the kitchen and pulled out a chair for her to sit in. He then went back into the bunkroom and grabbed the note off the pile of stuff. Ennis had Macy mostly mobile, and Graham just picked her up and carried her into the kitchen. Tala pulled the chair out for Macy and when Graham put her down, she held the girl upright.

“Bang,” Tala called. “Can you make some coffee, like I showed you?”

He nodded and began the work, carefully measuring coffee.

Mark and Ennis helped Marcy down the ladder, and they joined the others. Marcy sat in a chair beside Mark and put her head on the table, falling asleep again. Mark pulled her up and slid her over to lean upright against his chest.

The coffee aroma filled the small space, perking them all up, as Graham read the note to himself, then read it again and said, “Son of a bitch!” Hell, he hadn’t meant to say it out loud, but it sure caught everyone’s attention.

The letter shook in Graham’s hands. “They drugged us. That’s what this is. So they could break in here and give us this.” He motioned to the items on the floor.

“Your arms are sore, right?” He turned to address the rest of them. “They gave us all flu and tetanus shots and Ennis, you also got a pneumonia shot,” he added and shook his head in disbelief.

“That would explain why my arm stings,” Ennis said.

“I don’t know how to feel about this,” Graham said with indignation.

“Who did it?” Mark asked.

“The preppers, the people who had you,” Graham said.

Graham walked back into the bunkroom and looked at the stuff in the middle of the floor, then walked over to Sheriff and ran his concerned hand down the fur of the animal again. Sheriff felt warm and Graham could feel the dog’s pulse. He scanned the room and looked for any sign of forced entrance.

“Is the front door locked, Ennis?” Graham asked.

“Yep, been locked,” he said.

“The only other way in would be through the windows, then,” Graham tried to open the one closest to Tala’s bunk. The lock from the inside appeared in place. He opened it, letting in some of the cold air along with its moisture. Graham reclosed it and snapped the lock tight.

“How in the hell—?” he said under his breath as he strode back to the pile of items and knelt. Something about the window caught his eye again, and then he knew what he hadn’t seen before. From this low view, he caught on right away. He got up quickly and examined the panes. Clearly they were replacements, because the two on the bottom were newer, not with the wavy flaws of old glass and with a new bead of off-white caulking, unlike the rest.

“Too simple,” Graham said. Then he turned his back to the window and tried to see what the intruders would have seen in the same position.

“They got Sheriff first, and probably with the strongest hit. I’ll bet that’s why he’s still knocked out. He damn well better be okay,” Graham said with an ominous warning.

Still holding the letter, he watched as Ennis and Bang carefully handed out cups of coffee. Coming out of the sleepy stupor proved a challenge, especially for Macy, whom Tala kept jiggling, as much to snap herself out of it as to rouse Macy.

“I’m trying,” Macy said, grumbling.

“I know, dear. Here, try this.” Tala held a coffee mug to Macy’s lips. She looked as worried about the girls as their own mother would have been.

Graham watched them recover, trying to make sense of the situation. “I think they meant well,” he said with reluctance. “If they get exposed to us as carriers, they’re dead. I guess I can understand, but jeez . . . So they broke two panes out of the window. Used something to put us all to sleep. Opened the window and climbed in. Gave us all immunizations and dropped off some supplies for us to combat the intruders,” Graham said, trying to make sense of it all.

“The shot fairy and Santa Claus, all in one,” Macy said, swaying back and forth with her eyes barely open. They all snickered a little and Graham put his hand on Macy’s shoulder to steady her.

“Yeah, the prepper elves,” Mark said. “What’d they bring?” he asked. “Can we trust them?”

Graham turned around. “Well, there’s a generator,” which was the first, most obvious thing to mention. He left Macy’s side, knelt in front of the pile, and rummaged through it. “There’s a water pump, what looks like a large can of something,” he picked it up and almost dropped it, surprised by the lightness of it. He turned it over to read the label. “Vegetable seeds, so I guess we don’t have to worry about that now,” he said.

“Yay!” exclaimed Tala, suddenly more awake.

Graham picked up two large bottles. “Multivitamins for adults and children,” he said. Then he noticed three large boxes. “Motion detector lights, surveillance kit with cameras, radio,” Graham said, in a reluctant manner, “and a first aid kit.” He moved the kit aside to find, last but not least, a large package of Oreos hidden beneath it; he took it over to the others. “And—Oreos,” he said, prompting them all to cheer.

They tore open the package and shared the rare treat with one another, dipping them into their black coffee. The sugar rush helped exterminate the last fleeting grogginess left behind by the injections and sleep mist.

“Look, he’s moving,” Bang said with a mouthful of cookie. “Sheriff!”

They all turned around to look at the beloved dog. “Let’s give him space to come out of it on his own,” Graham said. “I think if we’re hovering, he might get defensive,” he added.

“What did the letter say exactly?” Tala asked.

“Oh, here.” Graham handed Tala the letter while he stood Macy up. He wrapped one of her slender arms around his waist and held her close as he walked her around the living area, trying to help the girl to fully come to as Tala read the letter out loud.

To: Graham’s Camp

We wanted to extend our hand of friendship in these dark times. We’ve observed your camp and know you recently encountered a potential threat. Please accept these gifts to help defend your camp and yourselves. We suggest you use these cameras and motion detectors to help provide surveillance. We’ve also inoculated all of you from the standard flu virus, tetanus, and the elderly gent from pneumonia as well as your pet against rabies. Sorry about the sleeping gas. Because you are all carriers of the virus, we had to take certain precautions to protect ourselves. We hope you can understand the risk our community is under and the necessity of these actions.

It’s in our best interest to help, since we are neighbors of sorts and we would not want to see a camp of children on their own in this unforgiving environment. We commend you for taking them all on and are grateful you accepted the boy we brought to you.

Stay well,

Cascade Prepper Group

“They’ve been watching us,” Tala said, though not in a surprised way.

Smiling up at him sweetly, Macy said to Graham, “I think I’m okay now, Graham, you can let me go.”

“You’re just saying that so you can curl up somewhere. I know you. You’re sneaky,” Graham teased.

He let her go anyway when Tala stood up to start their day.

“I call the bathroom,” Graham announced, and the rest of them moaned. Living with three teenagers proved a challenge mostly with bathroom use. He’d learned this new maneuver from Mark, who had previously lived with two sisters. So after he observed this practice, as soon as the urge hit him, he started “calling it.”

“Well, girls, we have more meat to dry and laundry to do today,” Tala said, then added, “Ennis, can you run down to the store and pick up more detergent?”

Laughter ensued when he said in all seriousness, “Yessum, what brand? You kids want anything else?”

These little joking moments kept their lives sane, but they couldn’t be used more than once without falling flat. It kept the kids from dwelling on the past and the pain. They had to move forward, and Graham and Tala, without ever having discussed it, tried in little ways to keep their focus on the kids, helping to shape them into the people they needed to be now to survive this world.

Before the laughter faded, Graham heard Sheriff’s claws tapping on the wood floor. The dog trotted out into the middle of the living room, and then let out a big sneeze followed by three more.

Though this caused another gale of laughter, Graham saw relief in everyone’s eyes. Like him, they’d been worried about their comrade too. He’d become more than a family pet to them. Once he finished sneezing, Sheriff leaned back and stretched his front paws, splaying his long claws out in front of him. It was his way of dealing with the lethargy that they all still fought. He walked closer to the door, and Bang opened it for him to go do his business.

Within the prepper camp, Dalton and Sam watched the awakening of the carriers. “Graham’s going to be pissed off when he figures this out,” Sam said, stating the obvious. Dalton had to agree; he would be angry too, in the same circumstances.

“Yeah, if I ever get to talk to him, I’m going to tell him it was all Rick’s idea,” he said, only half joking.

When everyone was awake and more or less functional, Dalton focused his worried gaze on the big German shepherd. “Dammit, come on, dog,” he urged.

“You guys calculated the effects on the dog, right?” Sam asked.

“Yeah, but there’s always a risk,” Dalton said. “The girls and the dog got the brunt of the mist, so it’s going to be harder for them to come out of it.”

Dalton changed to a different camera feed and adjusted the audio so that he could hear and see what exactly was going on. Even now he wondered if it was right to have put snooping cameras inside their dwelling. It was necessary, he told himself.
Our own lives depend on knowing what’s going on with this group.

When the dog staggered out, huffed, sneezed, then went to the door to be released, Dalton felt released, too. He breathed a sigh of relief and switched to the outdoor feed. “Glad that’s over.”

“Yep.” Sam got up to go back and finish his current project while Dalton stretched back in the swivel chair, stretching his hands toward the roof of the tent. He checked the time and figured the guys in quarantine were up for their next blood withdrawals, so he would go over there to give them the updates he knew they were waiting for, as soon as Reuben showed up to relieve him. Just as the thought crossed his mind, the man appeared with his coffee and toast in hand. Reuben had obviously stopped at the mess tent on his way over to relieve Dalton.

“Hey, man, how’d it go?” he asked in his deep voice.

“About as expected, really,” Dalton said.

Reuben gave him a once-over. “You look spent, man,”

“Thanks.”

“Everyone’s upbeat and buzzed, waiting for the details.”

“They’ll just have to wait till Graham’s Camp Hour,” Dalton said, smiling.

“Okay, update
me
, then,” Reuben said.

Dalton liked Reuben. He was a tall and imposing guy of few words. He’d always chitchat a little, and then get right down to business, as he had just now.

He’d served with the man in Afghanistan and had come to respect his quiet, deliberate ways. Reuben often noticed small details others missed, things that would help keep them all alive. Dalton and some of the others called him Spock behind his back. Truth was, he wrote passionate prose and other works, but he just didn’t verbalize much.

Reuben’s dark skin had saved their asses one night when they were trapped between two clusters of enemy forces and forced to hide in the not-so-abundant desert brush. The only way out was to set off a radio beacon, but their low altitude disallowed the connection. In the dead of night Rueben calculated the risks, and before anyone else could come up with a better solution, he removed his gear and his shirt. He climbed up onto the top of their enclosure with the enemy in plain sight. He was able to make contact, saving them by calling in an air strike. It worked and Dalton often wondered if someone as lily white as he was could have done the same. He would have lit up like a Christmas tree—in more ways than one.

Dalton started on his report, reading it to Reuben: “Carrier subjects woke within safety limit allotment without incident. Graham read the letter with the anticipated result. They’re getting on with their day. No intruders spotted. So far, no sign of the China virus within our men.”

“Sounds good, man, get some sleep,” Reuben said.

“I will, after I go see the ladies.” said Dalton, and Reuben knew that he meant Rick and Steven.

Dalton got up, ran both hands through his already disheveled hair, and took his time walking through the camp, waving at those just rising to meet the day. He saw anticipation in their eyes.

In the mess tent, Kim met him with a kiss and hug. She smelled of coffee and bacon already. Everyone knew not to ask what had happened. They would all find out that evening.

“You’re sleepy,” Kim said, “and you look both stressed and relieved, too.” She held up her hands. “No, no. I’m not asking. I don’t have to,” she added with a grin. “I know your expressions, and I can see it all worked out. I’ll wait like the others for details tonight. You get off to bed.”

“I’ll see you later. I’m going over to quarantine, and then I’ll hit the sack,” Dalton told her. He left her with a discreet tweak and grabbed the piece of buttered homemade toast that she handed him. He savored it as he walked. Years ago he had wondered why in the world they’d bought so much butter in the stores and stockpiled it in their freezers; it had seemed like an unnecessary luxury then, but Dalton certainly did appreciate it now. Once gone, it would be the powdered stuff or none at all.

The gravel crunched under his boots as Dalton walked out in the morning light. He saw Sam already hard at work, with beads of sweat dripping off his forehead even though it was chilly out. He knew the man worked hard every day. He didn’t want to disturb him, so he just raised his hand and Sam nodded back without breaking his momentum.

Dalton continued on to the guarded entrance where someone was always in the sentry post. Even though they had the whole place monitored, a real eye gave them extra insurance, and it kept them in practice in terms of vigilance. Everyone took their turn, even the women and children. Kids over ten years of age were matched with an adult until they were fourteen and trained in all security protocols. So far, the plan had worked well for them.

The sentry for the day buzzed the gate open for Dalton and then reengaged the magnetic lock behind him. Dalton waved at the guard and then continued on to the hidden quarantine bunker. Finished with his toast, he marched, swinging his arms smartly, an old habit from military training.

He heard an eagle call, looked up, and saw the majestic bird circling with obvious hunting intent. The birds of prey had ample feeding grounds, like most other wild carnivores. He imagined their numbers would also rise like those of the other natural predators. He definitely smelled something decaying in the area, but that wasn’t unusual these days.

Snow lay in spots where the tree clearings allowed it to fall and its frozen crust crunched beneath his boots along with the fallen pinecones and needles. Dalton recalled when this path was muddied and slippery from frequent traffic, in the days when more people had to be quarantined. They finally had to resort to the use of galoshes they kept at the gate to reduce the mess. Now, the path was frozen hard and much less traveled. Those early days had been hard for everyone.

These days the quarantine building stood mostly as a grim reminder of what they’d gone through to get to where they were now. Many hadn’t made it from this place, leaving it embedded with troubled emotions he thought he could feel it as he got nearer. Family after family had been admitted through the process, desperate to make it clear of the facility.

Most of those who developed the China virus accepted their fate, but one man that Dalton remembered did not. As soon as Clarisse whispered the news that only he was positive, both she and Dalton watched in horror as he calmly approached his wife and baby, who were sitting on the other end of the room, and shot them both dead. He decided to end it immediately for the three of them, not just himself. He smiled at them through the observation glass as if he’d won some prize, and then shot himself. The whole time Dalton and Clarisse were begging and screaming, but there was nothing they could do. That was the day Dalton had held Clarisse back from the entry door. Mostly because of that man, Dalton felt this angst whenever he approached the quarantine area.

Dalton shook the awful memory from his mind. It was time now to focus on his friends who, having taken the risk for the carriers, were locked inside—temporarily, he hoped—and he needed to be upbeat for them.

The guard greeted Dalton casually, having been alerted to his approach ahead of time. “Morning, sir,” he said, smiling.

“Morning. Any news?” Dalton asked.

“No, they don’t tell me anything,” he said, joking.

“Clarisse inside?”

“Yes, of course. She never leaves this place.” The guard typed the code into the door’s keypad. Dalton ducked his head under the doorway of the domed building and walked down the darkened hallway toward the light that shone through from the observation room.

He found Clarisse looking at the slides on the miniature projector. She looked up at him through her dark framed glasses as he entered. Her chestnut hair was up in its tight bun, as always. As the camp scientist, Clarisse, took care of all quarantine procedures as well as medical care, both major and minor. She wasn’t known to socialize much with the men because she didn’t want to be responsible for gossip or fear among the wives. Everyone highly respected her opinion and willingness to work with dangerous subjects.

Dalton’s only concern for Clarisse was that she didn’t have anyone in her personal life and he wasn’t sure how she coped through all the stress without the relief valve of a personal connection. When the families were going through the quarantine process, she’d held steadfast through it all, often sleeping on her cot right in the observation room to help provide them and herself with a sense of security. She reran positive tests multiple times, fully knowing what their outcomes would be but wanting to be sure nonetheless.

“Good morning, Clarisse. How are the boys?” Dalton asked.

“I’ll tell you in just a second. They just finished the third draw and so far, as of now, they’re negative.” She peered into the microscope without looking up at Dalton, and then dropped the slide securely into the trash receptacle.

“That’s good news, so far. Are they still awake?” Dalton asked.

“Yeah, they were just giving me a hard time for not including Twinkies in their rations,” she said, rolling her eyes.

“Those bastards!” His mock indignation brought a bit of a smile to her face.

“Now they’re in for the twelve, so I imagine they’ll go back to sleep in a while. If you want to talk to them, go right ahead. I have their com off in protest of the Twinkie remarks, but you can turn it back on,” she said.

Clarisse had a gorgeous smile, and Dalton thought she would make any man blissfully happy. He never asked her why she kept to herself. It just wasn’t his business, being a married man.

He looked at the pair on the monitor. It was like observing an old married couple arguing with one another. Rick motioned with his hands as always, and from the looks of things, the argument was getting heated.

“God, they’re already fighting, and it’s only the first day,” Dalton said. He flipped the audio on, but kept silent until he could figure out what the two were debating.

Clarisse came over behind him to see what was going on in case it appeared to be something medical. After a second of observance, she shrugged. “Just chalk it up to their flawed personalities, Dalton.” She returned to work on her logs.

Rick’s arms were going up and down now in parallel motion as Steven shook his head back and forth. Each was on his own side of the room.

“You know I’m right, you asshole, you just won’t admit it. Batman has the Batmobile, the guns and, for crying out loud, he owns his own company. What the hell does Spider-Man have? All he does is shoot silly string, and he’s a goddamn reporter!” Rick spewed with mock venom.

“All right, ladies,” Dalton said, cutting off Steven’s retort.

“Morning, boss.” Rick’s furious expression changed in an instant, as if the heated argument had never taken place.

“Hey, Dalton,” Steven said.

Dalton secretly got a kick out of the two guys’ antics. They could appear about ready to strangle one another but were the best of friends. This was just their way of dealing with stress.

“Any afterthoughts?” Dalton asked them.

“No. Yes, is the dog okay?” Rick said. “I had to blast him first. He might have gotten a little too much.”

Dalton figured the dog would be the one they were most worried about. “He’s fine. They all are, in fact. That’s why I came by. I just wanted you to know, they all woke up. They were pissed, as we predicted, until they settled down and saw the gifts. The Oreos went over really well, too. That was a nice touch, putting them on the bottom.”

“How’s the little kid?” Steven asked. “I was more concerned about him getting too much.”

“He’s fine. First one up, in fact. Good job,” Dalton said, then added, “He freaked out a little bit trying to wake the others, but then Mark was up soon after. Oh, and Graham has already figured out how you guys got in.”

“Figures. Smart fella,” Rick said with admiration.

“He’s a good guy. All this time we’ve been watching them, but now, after this, they’re more real to me. Those kids really do need him,” Steven said.

Changing the subject, Dalton said, “Well, it looks like so far you two are clear, but we all know the rules. Try not to kill each other. It’s only the first day.”

Both men started wrestling, just for Dalton. They pretended to punch each other and fell over on the beds in slow motion.