Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3 (45 page)

They had practically walked all the way back to her tent when he said, “What would we do without you, Clarisse?”

She beamed at him, making him glad he’d finally let her know he was grateful for her accomplishment, one in which she could rightfully take pride.

Dalton had just said goodnight to Clarisse and headed toward his own quarters when Rick called out from the media tent across the open area. “Hey, Dalton, we have a situation.”

Dalton strode to the media tent. “What’s up?”

“I just talked to Tala,” Rick said. “She’s concerned because Graham hasn’t returned from town yet, and Ennis has taken a turn for the worse.”

Dalton stood there, weighing his few options. He and Graham had agreed they would not intervene again, risking a fallout like what had happened last time. Perplexed with the situation, he said, “Did you try the tracker?” He knew full well Rick had by now.

Rick paused before admitting he had, “Yeah, you were right, damn thing’s not working.”

“When do Sam and his crew get back?”

“Day after tomorrow, maybe.”

“Why did Graham go into town?”

“Tala said he went to collect a few things. The trip was supposed to be quick.”

“And Ennis is really sick?”

“Yeah, he has a high fever, and he’s mumbling a lot. He keeps telling Macy to come help us. He’s delirious.”

“Okay, let’s get Clarisse in here. She can help with Ennis. As for Graham, maybe he decided to stay in town for the night. There’s nothing we can do about finding him. We both agreed we wouldn’t intervene again. If he’s not back by morning, I suggest either Macy or Tala go looking for him.”

“Yeah, I thought you’d say that.”

“Our hands are tied, Rick. Any fanciful ideas this time?”

“No. I keep checking the damn cameras, but there’s nothing to see. The temperature dropped again, and they’re still fogged over or frozen over, even though they’re equipped with temperature controls. Damn things, wish I could call in a warranty on those fuckers.” Rick slumped his head down between his folded arms in frustration and exhaustion. “I didn’t get much sleep with the girls up all night giggling.”

Dalton reminded him again. “We don’t intervene physically. It has to be this way—for now, anyway.”

Rick grunted his response. Dalton wanted to say more, but he wasn’t sure if Steven had told Rick yet about the upcoming vaccine. In another few weeks this would likely not be a problem, and Dalton would already be in town by now with a group to track Graham down. The fact that Graham was out there, probably injured, or worse, and needed his help, drove Dalton nuts. Worst of all, Rick had no techie tricks to offer him—a rare occurrence.

“Yes, I know, Dalton. I can’t think of anything to do anyway. I’ll let you know if something comes to mind."

“Okay, at least for now, Clarisse can offer help concerning Ennis. I’ll go get her and be right back.”

Once Dalton returned with Clarisse, her first question of Rick was, “What can I do?”

“Okay, here’s the deal. Tala called in a few minutes ago. Graham left on a quick trip to town but hasn’t returned yet. The worst part is the old man has started running an awful temperature, and Tala’s scared out of her mind. She’s the only adult there, with just Macy and the boy taking care of Ennis. Is there something else we can tell her to do to bring his fever down?”

“I just spoke to her the other day. There must be something we’re missing. He’s been suffering from a UTI. Graham probably went into town for the medication they needed,” Clarisse speculated. “Did something else happen with Ennis?”

“No, not that I know of. Sam, Twin One, and Mark are still out hunting. Graham left this morning and still hasn’t returned. It’s dark now, and the town cameras are on the fritz with these low temps. I can’t see a damn thing. Tala has only the old Escort, but it has no gas. Hell, I think they use the car for parts these days anyway.”

“What about the trackers?” she asked, looking up to Dalton.

Dalton deferred to Rick, knowing he had already tried using them

Rick shook his head. “I tried, but they only work while the device is still in the skin. It’s been months now, and they’re no longer active.”

Dalton felt they were wasting time going over the same conversation. “We’ve already discussed this. Let’s see what we can do for Tala at this point with regard to Ennis. Can you talk to her about how to bring down his temperature? She said he’s delirious, and he keeps yelling out in his sleep. They can’t get him to take anything by mouth.”

“I’ll do what I can. There are a few tricks to getting the fever reducers down him. Let’s call in.” She settled herself into Rick’s chair, and he pulled up another one beside her in the small media room.

Rick placed the familiar call. Usually the time before someone picked up was only two rings; this time the call took five rings before someone answered. Twin Two picked up the call.

“Hi, Rick, we’re busy here with Ennis. He’s really . . . upset,” Macy said with the sound of stress in her own voice, clearly frightened by the situation.

“That’s okay, Macy, that’s why we’re calling. I’ve got Clarisse here with me. Can Tala come to the radio, hon?” Rick asked her.

“Sure, just a minute.” While they listened to her they also heard Ennis moaning in the background and Tala attempting to comfort him.

“Poor girl,” Dalton said under his breath as he stood near the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest, feeling at a loss as how to help them.

“I’m here,” Tala said.

“Tala, it’s Clarisse. What’s his temperature?”

“It’s a hundred and four! I don’t know what to do. I’m putting cold compresses on his chest and forehead. I tried to get him to take the ibuprofen, but he keeps spitting the pills out. He’s shaking and screaming, and Graham’s gone!” She sounded on the verge of tears. Tala was worn out from the stress of it all, and Clarisse wished nothing more than to be able to help her friend.

“Tala. Has Ennis gone to the bathroom today?”

“Yes. I’m sorry. Um, he did a few times, in fact, which isn’t usual. He can’t verbalize much, but he’s acting like he’s in a lot of pain.”

“Okay, he’s spiking a fever due to the UTI. Maybe he’s resistant to the antibiotics. The elderly don’t usually show signs of high fevers unless the infection is pretty bad. So I want you to get two of the painkillers and crush them along with one of the antibiotics. Crush them all together and mix them into a few tablespoons of something sweet. Chocolate pudding or applesauce work well to disguise the medicine flavor.”

“We have a jar of applesauce.”

“Okay, crush the meds into a powder and mix them into a small amount. Enough to mask the taste, and to get the medication all into him at once. So, maybe three tablespoons of applesauce in a small cup. You can even add sugar to the mix to make the taste even more appetizing if you need to.”

Tala started to speak, but Ennis yelled out in the background as Macy and Bang tried to soothe him. “Try to keep him there, Macy,” Tala said as Ennis attempted to get off the bed. “Sorry, Clarisse, he’s out of control. I’ll do my best to get the meds down him. Any idea where Graham might be?” she begged the answer.

“No, Tala, I’m so sorry. If we get any news, we’ll tell you right away.” Clarisse looked up helplessly at Dalton. “They’ve even tried the trackers, but those things no longer work. The town cameras are frozen over, so we can’t see into town. I’m sorry to say, we don’t know where he is,” she said. Right now, though, it did little good to worry about Graham. They needed to keep Tala on the task at hand.

“Tala. Tala, listen, I’m sure he’ll turn up somewhere soon. Focus on getting Ennis medicated, and call me back in one hour. I’ll be here waiting, for your call, okay?” Clarisse said, not wanting to turn off the link to her friend in trouble.

“Okay. Thank you, Clarisse.”

“Don’t worry about it. I wish there was more to offer.”

“I’ll call back in an hour. Tala out.”

After the conversation had ended, Clarisse took a minute to think, then looked up at Dalton and Rick. “We’ve got to find him,” she groaned, agonized by the turmoil she knew Tala was going through.

“No. We will not risk exposure again, Clarisse. Not again,” Dalton said. He hated the look she returned to him.

“He’s never gone off like this. Something is wrong,” Rick said.

Clarisse huffed, then shook her head silently. “You’re right, I feel so helpless. I’ll go check on Addy and be right back. I’ve got to be here for her.”

After she left, Dalton and Rick stood silently. Rick finally said, “We don’t know if anything’s happened to Graham or not. His truck probably broke down, and he decided to stay overnight in town.”

Dalton mulled the theory over for a minute. “No, he would walk back to camp. No matter how long the trip took him, he’d do it.”

“You’re right, Graham is like you. He would walk back to camp in a blizzard, during an apocalypse, with wolves on his tail.” Rick rubbed at his tired face. “Shit, something bad has happened to him, man.”

“Yeah, my thoughts exactly. Damn, it sucks to be powerless.”

“He wouldn’t want you to risk a rescue anyway,” Rick said, “so we wait it out. That’s all we can do.” He leaned forward, again laying his head on the table.

Dalton couldn’t stand the sound of defeat in Rick’s voice. He was exhausted. “Have you been having that nightmare again? You look like hell and about ready to collapse.”

“Yes. Who else gets plagued by these strange goddamn nightmares? One minute, I’m standing in a large white room watching in horror as a man runs like hell screaming while a gigantic fucking unhooked safety pin chases him down, sticks him through the end of the pin, and then the fucker starts running toward me. The screaming wakes me up every time.”

Dalton cut loose with a surprised laugh as he pictured a gigantic safety pin chasing after Rick screaming his head off.

“Go ahead and laugh, man. I know the whole thing sounds funny, but it’s a fucking nightmare, I’m telling you.”

“Whose screaming wakes you up? Yours, or the other unfortunate fellow’s?”

“Both, I guess,” Rick shook his head. “I’ve had this same twisted nightmare since the third grade, and I never find out if the damn thing gets me or not because I wake up so fast with my heart pounding out of my chest. I thought it would finally go away or be replaced by others once I went into the military, but no such luck. Not even nightmares over the apocalypse can match this one.”

“Hey, if you let me get a few hours’ sleep first, I’ll come and relieve you the rest of the shift and check on things.” Dalton started to leave, then remembered something. “Oh, and don’t let Clarisse out of your sight, man. Make sure she goes back to her quarters after the next call. I don’t want her to come up with some grand scheme and risk herself.”

“No problem. If she tries anything, I’ll sit on her and hogtie her. All right, boss. Get some sleep,” Rick said, and waved goodnight.

McCann wiped the sweat off his patient’s face again and again. The fever was predictable, but he hadn’t expected it to be so severe. He checked the bandage. The major leg wound had swelled. Keeping everything as sterile as possible in the process, he cleaned and redressed everything.

Outside, his horses whinnied in sudden fear, so McCann jumped up and grabbed his Colt, running for the back door to chase away the wolves, yet again, tonight.

When he swung open the door, their eyes glowed in the dark. “Get out of here, you fucking assholes!” he yelled. Not only did these nightly vigils exhaust him physically, those damned carnivores were going to exhaust his ammo.

The scent of moldy hay, damp manure, and fresh snow stung his nose. He would have to leave the injured man on his own while he cleaned up the area. It wouldn’t help either of them to neglect the horses. Before getting busy with that, he checked on the patient once more. The nameless man slept fitfully. He shook his head from side to side and muttered what McCann thought was the name Tala.
Must be the missus.
He wiped away the man’s sweat once more.

Afterward, he rolled up his sleeves and mucked out his makeshift barn, the covered back patio off the old brick house. The only hay he’d found was across the street, and moldy fare, so he opted to give the horses some of the oats he had found in the house. Refined oats were not their usual diet, but these were not usual times. “One must make do with what one has,” his frugal mother used to say.

The sick man called out from inside the house, so he finished up quickly and laid out as much straw as possible on the ground. Then he used lawn furniture and miscellaneous yard paraphernalia to build a blockade around the open patio. He found a lantern in the kitchen, lit the wick, and hung the light up along the doorway in hopes the flickering flame would hold the wolves at bay.

Inside he found the man conscious for the first time, though delirious and shuddering in massive pain.

“Where am I?” Graham asked.

“You’re here, in Cascade. You were attacked by wild dogs. Don’t you remember?”

The guy grimaced as he tried to adjust his position so he was more comfortable. “Got to get up. Got to get back to Tala. She needs me.”

“No. You can’t move yet.”

“You need to help them. Please.”

“I don’t know where
they
are. It’s too late tonight. I’ll try in the morning. What’s your name?”

“Graham. You’re . . . the Carnation boy.” The pained surprise on his face contrasted with the sweat pooling down his forehead. “You made it! I needed you to chop the wood.”

McCann smiled at him; being needed was what he desired most.

“My name’s McCann, and yeah, I made it. Just in time, by the looks of it,” he said as he checked out Graham’s leg wound again.

“How bad is it?”

“Bad enough. You should probably try to sleep more. Your fever is pretty high, and we need to find you some antibiotics.”

“We have to go to the camp.” Graham tried to maneuver higher but yelled out in pain as he tried to move his leg. “They’re alone. I’m sure she’s worried.” Graham slurred his words, and he fell unconscious once again from the pain and fever. McCann helped him lie back down again.

“Nice to meet you, Graham,” was all he could think to say as the man slid back to his fitful sleep.

He walked away and went through it all again: he checked the horses, called the wolves “fanged bastards,” redressed Graham’s wounds, and wiped him down again. Finally he sat by Graham in a sturdy kitchen chair and, with his boots still on, crossed his legs on the end table in front of him. He let his cowboy hat slide down to his forehead, and fell asleep with his toothpick lolling to the side, and hoping he would wake up if Graham needed him again.