The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) (20 page)

Read The Journal: Fault Line (The Journal Book 5) Online

Authors: Deborah D. Moore

Tags: #survival, #disaster survival, #disaster, #action, #survivalist, #weather disasters, #preppers, #prepper survival, #prepper survivalist, #post apocalyptic

 

***

 

“I’m glad we decided to come to the park
today with Holly,” Christine said, sitting at the picnic table
while Trevor tossed a ball for the dog.

“Me, too,” he replied. “I hope Seth comes. I
think we should tell him about Janis. It sure is strange, isn’t it?
She seems so normal most of the time, yet I now look back and some
of her childlike behavior makes sense.”

“What behavior is that?” Seth asked.

“Geesh! Seth, I didn’t hear you at all!”
Trevor laughed. “We were discussing Janis, and thought you should
know some things about her that we just found out.” Trevor and
Christine relayed what they knew about the accident and her living
situation.

“That poor child,” Seth said when they
finished. “I do appreciate you telling me this. I will be sure to
keep a closer eye on her now.”

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

 

 

The next morning, to
cover the most area for the survey, Trevor and Christine parked at
a residential intersection a few blocks from home. They both took
the same side of the street, in opposite directions, then agreed to
cross over and start back down once they reached the end of the
block and meet back at the car. Although Trevor didn’t like
Christine being alone, the fact that she had Holly with her made
him much more comfortable.

After covering several blocks this way, they
had a stack of sheets between them in a short time.

“It’s 11:30. I think it’s time to head home,
grab a bite to eat, and go open the store,” Trevor said.

“Good idea. All this walking is making my
legs tired. I’m glad I’ve got some good walking shoes,” she said,
reminded of the shopping trip the day of the quake… and of Lois.
“Would it be okay for me to come too?”

“Of course it is. In fact, the new shipment
should be arriving today and I could use the extra help.”

“Do you think you’ll be hiring any of your
former employees back?”

Trevor sighed before answering. “I don’t
know. After what happened with Riley I don’t know if I can trust
any of them. It’s just you and me, babe, for a while anyway.”

 

***

 

“Where’s the other driver?” Trevor asked
after directing the delivery truck to the service entrance.

“Sorry to tell you this, he died from the flu
shortly after he was here last time, according to his log. All we
can guess is he pulled into a rest stop to get some sleep and he
never woke up. The police found him the next day after our main
office reported him missing,” the new driver reported.

Hearing this, Trevor was sure now that the
handshake had given the virus to him and he’d undoubtedly passed it
on to his customers.

Christine checked off the boxes as they were
unloaded and stacked in the back room of the Main Street store, and
Trevor wrote a check.

The driver held out his hand, then withdrew
it with a nod.

Time passed quickly as Trevor and Christine
stocked the shelves and tended the counter. Sales were brisk with
people spending what little money they had on food.

“You have a lot of things that aren’t food
related, how come?” Christine asked.

“This is a convenience store, not a grocery.
Although currently canned food is outselling motor oil, so I’m
putting in more ready to eat items. Like this.” He held up the
large double can of heat and eat Chinese food. “I will always carry
those little items, though, like the spiral notepads and packs of
pens, which are right next to the motor oil and hose clamps.”

The dry goods area was where the facial
tissue and paper towels were, next to the various feminine
products, all at inflated prices.

“I see we got potato chips in, I bet they
don’t last long,” she giggled.

“Those and pretzels are hot sellers,” Trevor
agreed. “Oh, and I talked with the bakery yesterday and we should
get a load of bread and baked goods delivered tomorrow. Even at
these higher prices, business is good.”

“What about gas? Is that ever going to come
back?”

“I can’t answer that. I’m not concerned
though, gas was never a money maker, it’s just a draw to get people
in the store.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, how did you get
into this business, Trevor?”

“For extra cash when I was in high school, I
worked at a convenience store, the Spring Hill store.” He smiled at
the fond memory. “I would stock the coolers. When I accidently saw
the bill for the bottled water, I was shocked that the owner had
paid ten cents a bottle and sold it for a dollar, and I knew it was
a good business to get into. People are willing to pay for
convenience.”

“And then you bought the store?”

“Not right away of course. I took night
courses on business and economics, and kept working to learn what I
could firsthand. When I turned twenty-one I got all the money my
parents left me and that’s when I bought the store.” He glanced at
the clock and seeing it was six o’clock, turned the open sign to
closed and locked the door. “How about Chinese for dinner tonight?”
He grabbed one of the cans from the shelf.

CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

 

 

“Are you coming to the
store with me today?” Trevor asked as he rinsed his coffee cup in
the kitchen sink.

“I’ll be there a little later. I want to drop
off these questionnaires to Dr. Hebert,” Christine replied. “I
don’t know about you, but I really wasn’t comfortable asking all
those questions to strangers.”

“Me neither.”

“Then if you don’t mind I’m telling him we’re
done,” she said emphatically.

“Fine with me. I got some real hinky feelings
from him and I don’t trust him. The little they’re paying us isn’t
worth it. Besides, we really don’t need the money,” Trevor
reassured her.

 

***

 

“I’m here to drop off these surveys for Dr.
Hebert. Can you make sure he gets them?” Christine told the same
young man at the reception desk. She handed him a large yellow
envelope.

“He’s in his office, you can go right
in.”

“No, that’s okay, I don’t need to see him.”
She turned to leave.

“Christine!” Dr. Hebert called out to her,
and seeing the envelope said, “I want to thank you for doing
this.”

“You’re welcome, but that’s all we’re doing.
It’s interfering with work,” she lied.

“Well this should give us a start. While
you’re here, can I get another blood sample?”

“No,” Christine answered simply. “No more
blood.”

“I’m sorry to hear that. If you wait a
minute, I’ll get the pay you’re due,” Hebert said, and went back to
his office.

There’s no reason I can’t still do my
little experiment,
he thought and quickly put on a mask and
gloves. From the locked cooler he removed a vial and set it
carefully on his desk. Then he removed two hundred dollars in
twenties from his wallet and put all but one in an envelope. A
single drop from the vial went on the remaining bill, which he slid
into the center of the bills in the envelope. One drop would
contaminate the remaining money, and once they started spending,
the new virus would be spread quickly.

After removing the right glove and mask,
Herbert picked up the envelope with his still-gloved left hand and
went back to the lobby.

“Here’s the pay for both of you. I do
appreciate what you’ve done for me. If you change your mind about
doing more surveys or donating more blood, you know where to find
us,” Hebert said cordially, sliding his left hand behind his back
and offering her his right hand.

Her fuzzy driving gloves still on, Christine
accepted the envelope and put it in her pocket. “I’m sorry, Dr.
Hebert, with all the diseases going around, I don’t shake hands
anymore, and let’s face it, you work for a place filled with
germs.” She turned her back to him and left.

 

***

 

“Ugh, I’m ready for a nice long hot shower
and a glass of wine, not necessarily in that order,” Christine
said, stretching her back. They had been stocking the shelves for
hours and were ready to go home.

“Same here,” Trevor said, stacking some empty
cardboard boxes in the back room.

“Woof!” Holly said in agreement, making the
two laugh.

“I guess she’s ready to go too,” Christine
said. “How does spaghetti and meatballs sound for dinner?”

“It sounds wonderful, I’m famished. Let’s get
out of here.”

 

***

 

“So how did it go with Dr. Creepy?” Trevor
asked, refilling Christine’s wine glass.

“It was odd. He really didn’t seem
disappointed when I said we were done with the surveys. And he paid
us right then. I’m surprised we didn’t have to wait a month for a
government issued check.”

“Paid us? In cash? That
is
odd. How
much?” Trevor asked.

“I didn’t look. The envelope is still in my
jacket pocket. Should I get it?”

“Naw, it can wait, but this can’t…” He pulled
her down to sit on his lap on the floor and kissed her deeply, the
envelope forgotten.

 

***

 

Dr. Marcus Hebert paced the hall outside of
his tiny office. He wasn’t a happy man. The med-tech that took
blood samples for him stepped out of her room, saw him, and
instantly retreated. His temper was notorious and she did not want
to be the object of his wrath, whatever had caused it
this
time.

Why haven’t I heard any reports of the new
flu?,
he thought darkly. It had been four days since he’d given
Christine the tainted bills. The new genetics of the virus would
keep it viable for only five days without a host and time was
running out. That Christine Tiggs and Trevor Monroe should have
spent all that money by now and passed the virus around town! He
was a decent judge of character and could tell she was shopper.
What had gone wrong? Why wasn’t at least she and her boyfriend
deathly ill? Maybe there was something wrong with the new batch of
the virus he’d constructed. Maybe she was sick, too sick to see her
doctor. Maybe he should call her.

He thought that was a good idea. His insane
brain couldn’t see the folly of that.

 

***

 

“Miss Tiggs! Good evening, this is Dr.
Hebert,” he said into the phone when she answered.

“What can I do for you, Dr. Herbert?” she
asked cautiously.

“Oh, nothing, I was just wondering how you
were doing. Are you feeling well?”

“I’m fine, why?”

“Oh, I was just curious. Did you enjoy your
shopping spree?” he asked, changing the subject.

“Dr. Hebert, I think this phone call is
totally inappropriate,” she said, and hung up.

“What was that all about?” Trevor asked,
looking in the fridge for something to snack on. When she told him
what Hebert had asked, Trevor froze. “Something is very wrong. Why
would he say things like that? Where is the envelope he gave
you?”

“It should still be in my coat pocket. I’d
forgotten all about it until now.” Christine went to the hall
closet to retrieve it. She pulled her coat out and hung it on the
kitchen chair.

“Don’t touch it!” Trevor warned and Christine
backed away. He slipped on a pair of gloves from the box Dr. Adams
had given Christine when he was sick and picked up the envelope.
Inside he found the bills and counted them. “Two hundred dollars
for doing a couple of hours of questionnaires? I don’t like this.
It’s as if he was hoping you would spread this money around. Wait a
minute,” Trevor said. “What if he infected the bills with
something?”

“Viruses don’t live long without a host,”
Christine said. “Although a few years back some scientists dug up a
grave from the 1918 Spanish Flu outbreak in the Yukon or Alaska or
someplace really cold, and the virus was still alive. Heat kills
the bug, but cold only makes it go into stasis.”

Trevor ran hot water in the sink until it was
steaming, and then closed the trap. He added some soap, some
bleach, and then the bills.

“You’re laundering money,” Christine
joked.

Trevor laughed too. “I know it seems silly,
but I’d rather we were safe. Seriously, what if he did put
something on the bills to make us sick? We would never know.
Actually, it’s rather ingenious: twenty dollar bills are the most
common and are passed around daily. By the time it was discovered,
the germ or whatever was on it, would have dissipated and hundreds
of people would be infected with no proof of how.”

 

***

 

Herbert was angry again. His scheme didn’t go
as planned. Those two weren’t sick at all. He had to do something
himself. He pulled out his wallet again and put three twenties on
the table, doused them each with the new virus, and slipped them
into a plastic bag. He would make sure they got into waiting
hands.

 

***

 

“That was a wonderful sandwich,” Dr. Hebert
told the waitress at the café. “May I have a bit more coffee and
the bill please?” It really
was
a good sandwich, salami and
Swiss on rye, his favorite, and he almost regretted what he was
about to do. Almost. He glanced at the bill and with a gloved hand,
placed one of the tainted twenties on top. “Keep the change,” he
said on his way out the door, smiling.

His next stop was the thrift shop where he
bought a pair of warm gloves and a knit cap, telling the elderly
clerk the change could go into the donation box. He didn’t want
change from any of them once they touched the contaminated bill.
After leaving that shop, Hebert spotted the T’N’M convenience store
on Main street, and headed in that direction.

 

***

 

The buzzer let Trevor know the front door had
been opened and he set down the newspaper he had been reading while
he sat behind the register. The customer had already turned down
the first aisle so all Trevor could see was their back, though
something about the way he walked was vaguely familiar.

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