Authors: Margaret Madigan
“Thank you,” I said, letting relief show on my face. It had been so long since I’d relied on anyone. The last time I had, she’d stolen my vaccine, made it into something that destroyed the world and turned around and blamed me for it. Despite the costly lesson, I found myself relying on these men. Even more surprising to me was my confidence they wouldn’t betray my trust. I only hoped I wasn’t wrong.
After the last dish was rinsed, Doc hopped off his stool. He beckoned as he walked to the door. I followed him, matching my longer stride to his short steps. He led me down through the huge mansion and out the back to a meadow that had once been a manicured lawn. A makeshift gun range with varied targets was set up on the edge. Behind it, the scrub-covered hills provided a backstop for any missiles that missed their targets.
“Oh! You made a range?”
Doc grunted assent. “When Rafe kept bringing boys home, we decided we needed one so they could learn how to defend themselves. Even the little guys know their way around a shotgun, which is what we’ll be starting you off with because the spread of the pellets makes it hard to miss your target.”
Doc walked over to what had been a gardening shed a long time ago. He came back carrying a long firearm with a wooden handle. He thrust it in my hands and went back to the shed, returning with another firearm that looked the same as the one I held. He halted as he saw me with the gun caught against my midriff, each end protruding on either side of me.
“Okay, I see we’re going to be starting at the very beginning with you. That is how
not
to hold a weapon.”
I nodded in agreement. It was better to admit my lack of knowledge despite my pride. How else could I learn what I needed to know? “Yes, I think starting at the very beginning would be best.”
Doc flashed me a smile, the widest I’d seen yet on his face, then started lecturing me about barrels, stocks and recoils. I listened carefully, filing away the information. Once I knew the names and theory, Doc walked me through loading and unloading the shotgun. My gun could hold three shells. Once they were fired I would have to reload. We practiced loading and reloading until I could do it competently. I watched Doc load his shotgun, amazed at the speed of his fingers as he loaded. “You don’t even have to look to do that, do you?”
“Nope. I’ve had a lot of practice. Okay, we’re ready to try shooting. Do you remember about the recoil?”
I nodded. “I need to hold it firmly to my shoulder, or the recoil will hurt me. Also, I shouldn’t put my chin on the stock because the recoil will give me a headache.”
“Right. Just point where you want to hit. The spread of the pellets should make sure you get where you want to be. Okay, let’s go. Watch me first and copy what I do.”
I watched as Doc lifted the shotgun to his shoulder and fired in a single smooth motion. When he nodded my way, I swallowed hard, snugged the butt of the stock tight against my chest and fired.
By the time Doc was satisfied with my competence in firing a shotgun, we’d gathered an audience. I was so focused, I hadn’t noticed the boys had drifted over until they started cheering my hits and taunting my misses. I wasn’t sure what to make of it, but their manner was so cheerful, so open, that I found myself responding to them. So when Doc nodded his satisfaction and told me the shotgun was mine, I set it down on the nearby table like Doc had shown me. I threw my arms in the air and spun around in celebration, grinning at the boys as they cheered. I didn’t even flinch when a couple of the younger ones rushed me, wrapping their arms around me in bear hugs.
Spinning more slowly now, I saw Rafe leaning against a fence post, a small smile turning up the edges of his mouth. I hadn’t realized he’d returned, or how much time had passed while I’d been practicing.
Our eyes caught. I stopped mid-spin, my arms dropping to the backs of the little boys still clinging to me. When Rafe pushed off the fence and strode in my direction, the look on his face was determined, sending a shot of anticipation to mingle with disquiet in my belly. When he reached me, he pulled the protesting boys off. He caught me up against him, leaning down until his mouth was a shade away from mine. “Nice shooting, Princess.”
I breathed in his scent, warm and completely male. I fought the need to close the breath of distance between us. Someone whistled in the background, but the hussy in me surfaced again as I wound an arm around his neck and lifted my chin, fitting his warm mouth against mine. He stilled for an instant, before he pulled me tighter against him, his mouth moving over mine, sending a shiver down my spine. My world contracted until there was nothing but him, his scent, his warmth, his kiss.
When he finally lifted his mouth, the world expanded back out. It was filled with the bright voices of little boys, chanting “Gwyn and Rafe, sitting in a tree, k-i-s-s-i-n-g.”
My eyes found Rafe’s and something intimate passed between us, some understanding or agreement that felt right to part of me, but another part fought to reject. With his body still pressed against mine, his eyes twinkling, I decided to ignore the part of me that warned against becoming emotionally involved.
His body shook as he chuckled, released me and ran at his boys, yelling mock threats. They giggled, scattering before his charge. I found myself laughing along with the boys as they darted out of his reach. Rafe chased them, faking one direction then running another. When he finally sauntered back, he had a small boy tucked under each arm, the rest of them following like ducklings after their mama. He set the little ones down in front of me. As soon as their feet hit the ground they squealed and ran off again, the bigger ones taking up the chase.
Rafe laughed, a warm, rich sound that made me glad there were still people capable of finding joy despite the state of the world.
He caught my hand in his. “Doc said you’ll be taking him back to the lab tomorrow to get some of your things.”
“Yes. If my lab isn’t overrun with Infected, I need some equipment and the experiments I’ve been working on.”
He nodded. “We’ll be leaving early for Paragon, so I probably won’t see you in the morning. Why don’t we head in to work out a strategy for your mission over another cup of coffee?”
I smiled up at him and nodded my assent. It was, after all, the logical thing to do.
* * * *
When I strode into the kitchen the next morning, Doc was already there. The remnants of breakfast, probably Rafe’s Paragon party, were scattered at one end of the table. At the other, my shotgun, a few boxes of shells, Doc’s shotgun and the homemade rocket launcher were laid out. I arched a brow at Doc. “Are we really expecting that much trouble?”
He shrugged. “Plan for the worst, hope for the best.”
My curiosity got the best of me, so I had to ask, “What did you do before the epidemic?” His look of confusion had me rushing to explain myself. “I only ask because you seem to be very handy, very organized.”
He shrugged. “Worked in Hollywood. You know, pyrotechnics, special effects–I did what they needed. It was my job to be organized and build stuff. Turns out those are useful skills in the apocalypse, too.”
“I suppose they would be.”
“So, from the size of the group that tracked you here,” he continued, “I’d guess there’s more where that came from. Some of them may have followed your scent to the lab and stayed there.”
I reached up and rubbed the back of my tightening neck, considering the idea the Infected were now essentially bloodhounds. Those who’d caught my scent could follow my trail wherever I went. Wonderful. But in the end, it didn’t really matter because I needed my work. If I was successful, those Infected could be cured.
“Well, it’s good to be prepared,” I said. “Shall we go?”
“Food first. This might take us a while. You should never leave home on an empty stomach. Besides, you need to walk me through the layout again before we go.”
I smiled and served myself some canned fruit. “Okay. Did Rafe take off already?”
“Yep. I don’t expect him back until this evening. I figure we’ll be back hours before he is.”
I leaned over, picked up a pencil, a partially used sheet of paper and found some space on the back. Between bites of fruit, I drew the layout of the lab. “So the building is actually four floors, three above ground plus the basement. After things went bad and I got kicked out of Paragon, I rented a small lab space there to work on a cure on my own. It was on the third floor. When things got worse, most of the other people abandoned the building, so I moved my stuff into the basement. That’s where I am now.”
Doc stumped over and pulled up his stool so that he could look at the map. “This is only the first floor.”
“Yes, I never use the upper floors, now. Mostly, I stayed below ground. There is only one way in or out. It has a fortified steel door, so I decided it was safest.”
He grunted. “Does anyone else use the building?”
“No. I haven’t seen people in too long to remember. Until I saw you.” I smiled, thinking of our first conversation. “It’s no wonder I was a bit out of practice.”
“Yeah you were. Okay, so on the first floor there are two entrances–one at either end?”
I nodded and pointed with my pencil. “I never use this one though. Just the one with the carport. There are double doors here, a reception area and then the hallway. These boxes are offices and this is the stairwell. The basement is sealed with the door here–I think it’s a fire door that I keep locked. I also rigged a security camera so I could make sure the hallway was empty before I unlocked the door. The upstairs is mostly offices or lab spaces, but no one goes there. I’ve scavenged the useful things for my downstairs lab.”
“You have electric? How’d you power your lab and camera?”
I smiled. “I used the solar power supplement system they already had in place. I just rerouted all the power downstairs.”
Doc lifted an eyebrow. “Sounds like a workable setup. Okay, well, draw the basement. We’ll need to get in and out quick, so I need to know the layout.”
I took another bite of fruit before I put my spoon down and began working on Doc’s map. I laid out the furniture and equipment on a grid so that I could stick to a decent sense of proportion. “Okay, so when you come down these stairs, directly to the back I have all the shelves with supplies, the water maker and the solar battery. To the right I’ve set up my bedroom. On the left, directly under the vent, is my lab area. All the things I need for my work will be here,” I said, pointing to the cabinets and shelves I’d drawn in against the wall.
Doc scratched his chin. “Okay, that’s good. Finish up so we can head out. I want to be back home long before dark.”
After breakfast Doc and I climbed into my Land Rover. It was large enough to carry everything I needed from the lab. Doc insisted we travel together so we wouldn’t get separated. It was nice to have company as I drove back to the lab, because the closer we got, the more nervous I became.
We were three blocks away when we spotted the first Infected. She’d been a heavy middle-aged woman. Now, much of her extra bulk had wasted away. Her lesion-covered skin sagged as she lumbered down the side of the road. I swerved and focused on the road ahead, afraid to look too closely.
This was the first Infected I’d ever seen so close to my lab since after the initial contagion. At first, the Infected were everywhere, but they had died or drifted off quickly once they’d foraged everything edible in the area, which was a big reason why I’d stayed. But now that most of the city was empty of healthy humans, it seemed as if the Infected were wandering back into areas they’d abandoned earlier.
Dread settled in my belly as we drove past a group of three Infected another block down. I was starting to believe that maybe they had followed my scent here like Doc said they would. That didn’t bode well for our mission. We turned the corner onto my street where another cluster of Infected was hunched over something in the middle of the road. This was not good at all.
“What are they doing?” I asked. Slowing the Rover, I leaned over the steering wheel to get a better view.
When we were within half a block it became obvious what they were doing. The dread in my belly turned sour. It took all my self-control not to lose my breakfast.
“Looks like lunch time,” Doc said.
I made a frightened animal sound in the back of my throat.
“Just keep driving. Go around and don’t look at them,” Doc said.
I inched the Rover around them, keeping my eyes on the sidewalk or the building up ahead, on anything but the carnage in the middle of the road.
Doc rubbed his beard. “Looks like this isn’t gonna be a cake walk. You gonna be okay using that gun? I know you think you can cure them, but you can’t help anyone if you end up infected.”