“No, it’s okay.” Ty turned to look at me and I could tell he was fighting strong emotion. This had been one of his last hopes—that he could connect with an adult in his family and get some help. To unload some of the burden he was carrying. And now he was put in the position of trying to figure out what to do about his grandmother.
I hesitated. “Ty, I know what you’re thinking. But it’s bound to be a big risk getting her out of here. She won’t grasp the danger and probably won’t be able to focus on getting out. She might jeopardize our escape.” It was all true. But I knew Ty was loyal. He’d just proved it by insisting I stay with him after I was injured.
I was right. Ty was already shaking his head. “I’ve got to get Nana out of here. I owe that to her and to my folks.” He swallowed hard before continuing. “She’s my responsibility. If she and I run into trouble getting out—then just keep going, Charlie.”
Then he turned back to his grandmother. “Nana, we need to leave here.”
A stubborn expression crossed the old lady’s face. “No.”
“Nana, it’s not safe here. There’s not enough food or medicine. You won’t get enough care. And there are dangerous—people—here.”
“No. I won’t leave.” There was a determined expression in her eyes.
Ty gently put an arm around his grandmother. “Nana, I love you. I’m going to take care of you and take you to a better place. A safer place.”
She pulled away with more strength than I’d thought she had. “I will not leave here. I won’t. No.”
All Ty’s entreaties fell on deaf ears as his grandmother continued shaking her head in response to his every suggestion.
Finally I saw something that approached lucidity—just a glint—in her eyes. She grabbed Ty by his arms and looked up into his face. “I just want it over. I don’t want to leave. Don’t make me.”
Ty gave me a helpless look.
After thinking a moment, I said, “Ty, I don’t know. It doesn’t seem like a good idea to force her. She’s strong still—she can pull back. I don’t know how easy it will be to drag or carry her out unwillingly.”
He slowly nodded and then gave his grandmother a sad look. “Are you sure, Nana? Really sure?”
But her expression was blank again. Ty pulled her into another embrace before taking a shaky breath. “All right. I won’t try to make her leave.”
I could tell Ty was right on the brink of losing it. I tried shifting to another topic. I looked around his Nana’s makeshift living quarters. Apparently, she’d taken a bag with a bunch of stuff in it from her usual room. There were a couple of photographs and old drawings that I guess Ty and his sister had made years ago. Something else caught my eye.
“Ty,” I said, bobbing my head toward a small table. “Doesn’t that piece of paper have your name on it?”
Ty swung his head around and stared at the table before striding over to pick it up. “It’s Ginny’s handwriting!” he said, staring at the looping schoolgirl print.
Ty’s grandmother looked worried. “That’s very important. Very important.”
Ty opened it up and skimmed it. “She says where she’s going. And what happened to her and who she’s with.” He gave me a wide grin—the first one I’d seen in a while and gave his grandmother a tight hug.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Mallory
It wasn’t just that Ginny’s grandmother didn’t recognize Ty’s name. Ginny’s face was stricken when she realized her grandmother didn’t recognize
her
.
I reached out to give her a hug, and then answered for Ginny, “Mrs. Brown, Ty and Ginny here are your grandchildren. We just ran by to check on you and make sure you’re okay.”
The old lady gave a vague nod. Then she smiled kindly at Ginny. “What a sweet girl. Do you live here, too?”
Ginny looked up at me with tears in her eyes. It was clear to me that Clarice Brown had been slipping into dementia for probably a good while. It also seemed likely that Ginny’s parents had decided not to share that information with their children. Maybe they’d kept it secret to keep from upsetting their children. But their approach sure hadn’t worked out for the best.
I cleared my throat and said briskly, “Mrs. Brown, now that we’ve checked in on you, Ginny and I need to go. But what I want to find out is whether you’d like to come with us or not.”
Ginny gave my hand a grateful squeeze. I wasn’t sure that Clarice Brown would want to leave, but I wanted to at least give her the option. Plus, I wasn’t sure how well she could fend for herself here, or who might be available to take care of her.
Ginny’s grandmother nodded thoughtfully as if she were carefully considering the choice. Then she said, “I want to stay.”
“Are you sure, Nana? You can come with us. We’re going to try to find Ty.” Ginny seemed to have trouble saying Ty’s name. I knew her hopes were high that he’d be here at Crofton.
Her grandmother turned that blank, confused look on Ginny at the mention of Ty. She mumbled, “I want to stay.”
Right then there was a tap at the door and we turned to see a thin nurse standing there. Her lips were pressed together in disapproval and her face was lined with stress. “It’s you,” she said brusquely. “I guess you made your way in.”
This was the woman who’d opened the gate for us then. I looked at her coolly.
The nurse glanced at Mrs. Brown. “We need to move you now,” she said. “Really, we should have moved you weeks ago, but we were trying to give your family time to help you.”
Clarice Brown gazed uncomprehendingly at her.
I said, “Where are you moving Mrs. Brown? Surely business isn’t carrying on as usual right now.”
The nurse pursed her lips again. “It certainly isn’t. But I want to make it easier on myself since I’m really the only staff left. I’m moving all the remaining residents to the memory care unit. It’s secured and can be locked from the inside as well as the outside.” She studied Mrs. Brown. “And, of course, Mrs. Brown should have been placed in the unit weeks ago.”
Ginny frowned. “So she won’t be in her room? Won’t that be confusing for her?”
“She’s already confused,” snapped the nurse.
I’d had just about enough from this woman but I was trying to keep from flying off the handle since I felt that was the last thing Ginny needed right now. “I’ll put some things together and carry them over to the memory unit. It might help her get more adjusted there.”
“And you are?” the nurse tried to look down her nose at me, but since she was shorter than I was, it didn’t work well.
“I’m a friend of Ginny’s. And Ginny is Clarice Brown’s granddaughter. Mrs. Brown has decided to stay put and not travel with us,” I said.
Ginny’s voice was amazingly steady when she spoke to the nurse. “If my brother Ty comes looking for me, can you tell him that I’m safe? And that I have a new friend, Mallory, who is looking after me?”
The nurse gazed noncommittally at her. “I’ll see what I can do.”
“And that we’re going to the Virginia border to a safe house? Crepe Myrtle Lane.” Ginny’s whole body was tense from her urgency.
The nurse nodded. Then she glanced over at me. “Whatever you need to get out of here, do it fast. I’m bolting those doors at the memory care unit and then I’m not opening them again. Not for anybody.”
She left as swiftly as she’d arrived. Ginny’s eyes were troubled. I pulled the comforter off the bed and started loading some of Mrs. Brown’s things in it to lug it away. To Ginny I said, “You know, I trust that nurse about as far as I can throw her. Why don’t you leave a note for Ty? Tell him what’s going on. Leave it with your Nana’s things. If he comes to Crofton, he’ll be looking for your grandmother and will be sure to see the note.”
“Do you think so?” Ginny looked hopeful. It was the first time in a while that she’d looked that way.
I smiled at her. “I know so.”
While Ginny quickly wrote out a note, I grabbed photos, kids’ drawings, and other mementos that might help Mrs. Brown settle in better. When I finished, Ginny was also done. I lightly touched Mrs. Brown’s sleeve. “Why don’t you follow us?”
“I don’t want to leave,” the old lady repeated. But she looked bereft as if she knew things were changing and couldn’t figure out why.
“I know you don’t. But you won’t be going far. Just down the hall. I’ll set everything up for you,” I said softly.
Mrs. Brown put out an arthritic hand and touched my cheek. “Thank you.”
As we got Ginny’s grandmother moved into the memory care unit, I couldn’t help but guiltily realize my relief at keeping Ginny with me. The little girl now almost felt like a daughter to me. At this point, I couldn’t even imagine facing the uncertain journey ahead of me without her.
After leaving Crofton (watching our backs the whole time since the contagion seemed to be getting worse by the minute), I drove straight up to the North Carolina/Virginia border. No stopping. We got there in the late afternoon and I felt a huge feeling of relief as I saw the house. It was there and it hadn’t changed.
It was a log cabin with solar panels on the roof, an extensive garden at the side of the house, and rain barrels for water collection. I hadn’t remembered how the house was positioned and if it was easily defensible or not. And it was really weird to even be thinking about houses in those terms, anyway.
Ginny, drowsy next to me in the front seat, perked up when I slowed the car down. “Are we here?” She sat up straight in her seat and looked out the window. “I love it!”
It looked … safe. Despite its compactness and the fact that it was a small three bedroom cabin, it had a sturdiness and a no-nonsense look about it that made you feel like you were going to be okay.
“It has a garden on the side of the house and probably still has power, since it’s got solar panels. It even has a generator that we can run. My friends really put a lot of time planning it,” I said.
Ginny was still looking excitedly out at the house and so she didn’t catch my swift change of expression. I’d caught some movement out of the corner of my eye, near the woods. Ginny had been through plenty today and I had, too. I didn’t feel much like going on high alert right now. And, luckily, when I scanned the woods, I didn’t see anything. Maybe my imagination was starting to run away with me. Or exhaustion.
“Are your friends there, do you think?” asked Ginny. “Annie and Jim?”
It was a good question. I didn’t see either car right now. I said, “I’m not sure. Let’s go ahead and bring some of our things in and we’ll find out. You’ll like them … they’re terrific people. Annie makes this amazing zucchini pasta.” Ginny wrinkled her nose and I laughed. “You’ll love it, I promise.”
Ginny opened the door and pulled out some bags from the backseat. “Can we get in if they’re not here? Do you have a key?”
“I’ve got a code for the lock box on the front door.” In a moment of panic, I searched the back of my hand where I’d written it just days ago. It felt like months had gone by. I gave a relieved sigh when I spotted the faint 4474 on my skin.
I unlocked the front door and Ginny and I walked in.
“Whoa! This is so cute!” said Ginny.
I smiled at her enthusiasm, but was still thinking about what I had or hadn’t seen in the woods. “Isn’t it great? I’ve only been here a couple of times, but I loved it. Annie and Jim live in DC and they think of this place as their getaway.” Annie, despite being a corporate attorney, was an earth mama at heart. The cabin was decorated with blankets, place mats, chair cushions, and potholders that she’d stitched by hand over the years, all in a cheerful checkered pattern.
But where
were
Annie and Jim? It had been Annie’s plan to come here, and she’d sounded like she was either on her way out or close to it. I felt an uneasiness in the pit of my stomach which I disguised in light conversation with Ginny as we got everything out of the car and brought it in. I kept watching the woods, but didn’t see anything.
After we’d unpacked, Ginny said, “Is it okay with you if I go take a long bath? I just kept thinking that would be the best thing in the world when I was out in the woods—if I could just have a nice, hot bath.”
I smiled at her and nodded. “Of course you can. We’re celebrating getting here, aren’t we? While you’re in there, I’ll think about what we can eat.”
But the first thing I did when Ginny disappeared happily into the bathroom was to peer into the garage. And I saw Annie’s Volkswagen Bug in there. I stared at it for a few moments, trying to digest what this meant.
I knew that Annie didn’t leave a car down here while she was in D.C. So it must mean that she was here somewhere. But she wasn’t in the house. I shivered, thinking about the movement I’d thought I’d spotted in the woods.
I firmly locked the doors. Then, just to make sure, I pushed chairs in front of the doors. I closed the curtains. Then I did poke around in the kitchen to see what I could make for a quick dinner. I found unopened boxes of cereal and unopened fully cooked bacon strips. Breakfast for supper? Why not? That was always a comfort food for me and right now I needed some comfort.
Ginny came back out, squeaky clean, and smiling. “I smell bacon!”
We did indeed have power—I wasn’t sure if it came from a power plant or from the solar panels on the roof. For the next hour, though, I put all my worries about Annie and everything else out of my mind and focused on having a fun evening with Ginny. Finally, she gave a huge yawn and said, “I’m going to enjoy a real bed now. Goodnight.”
“Goodnight,” I said to her with a lightness that I didn’t really feel as the light grew dimmer outside.
It was a couple of hours before I fell into a fitful sleep. In my dream, I was buried underground and scratching frantically with my fingernails to try and dig my way back out. I woke up gasping. Then I realized that I still heard a scratching sound.
My heart pounded as I followed the noise to the back of the house. Moving slowly, I listened for the scratching sound until I ended up at the back door. Catching my breath, I spotted a dark form scratching at the wood and glass of the door.
It was Annie. Or, it used to be Annie. Her usually clever, laughing eyes were hollow orbs and her mouth hung slackly. When she saw me, she moaned and her empty eyes grew larger and she pounded her hands on the door.