This is the first chapter of my new book, Outbreak: Brave New World. It's a sequel to my first book entitled Outbreak: Boston. The sequel takes place the morning after the end of the first book. If you haven't read it you can check it out
here. Essentially Brave New World starts off the morning after the end of Boston. Enjoy!
Chapter
One
10
June 2011, 0643 hours 4 Old Trout Lane 10 miles north of Holden, Massachusetts
The sand colored
Humvee seemed remarkably out of place parked next to a pockmarked, archaic
looking red Ford Explorer and a Dodge Caravan in the driveway of a small cabin
well off the main road. What color the minivan used to be was anyone’s guess as
the vehicle’s body was made up of more putty and grey primer than anything else.
The cabin was a simple affair: a single story home covered with green aluminum
siding, its driveway only recently paved with asphalt instead of the gravel
that covered the winding road leading out of the woods and to the blacktop
county road about a half a mile or so away to the east. It was just beginning
to turn light outside, the forest coming to life after a still quiet night. A
breeze occasionally stirred the tree branches sending early morning shadows
flicking here and there.
George woke a
little after dawn and sat up coughing. He was a big burly middle aged man with
a graying brown crew cut. His face was heavily lined, making him look much
older than his forty nine years. Recent circumstances beyond his control had
forced him to more or less give up his two pack a day habit but he still seemed
to have twenty plus years of crap in his lungs. It took every ounce of
willpower he could muster to not jam a cigarette into the corner of his craggy
mouth and light up. He had to make the two and a half packs he had last as it
did not look like he would just be able to drop in at the local 7/11 and grab
another carton any time soon.
His wife,
Jessica stirred when he extracted himself from her arms and he kissed her. The
two of them dressed quickly, George securing a battered worn Colt 1911A1 in its
holster on his hip before the two of them quietly then went into the dining
room. A slow smile spread across Jessie’s face and she nodded towards the
living room. “George, look at that.” she whispered. George chuckled and slipped
an arm around his wife’s waist as he took in the scene in their living room.
Amy, their
oldest child, lay sprawled on the hide-a-bed snoring loudly under a thin
blanket. She was dark haired like her father had been when he was younger but was
built like her mother: wide hipped with short legs however Amy had a good bit
more muscle. A little smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth as he watched
her. Their daughter had confided in her mother a couple times that she hated
not looking like one of those stick figures on the magazine covers but now she
sort of had gotten her wish. However the new reddish pink scar under her left
eye would probably ruin any chance of Amy getting a modeling job in the near
future.
Amy looked like
she had lost a lot of weight since he had last seen her. Her cheekbones were
much more prominent and it looked like the ACUs she was wearing were more than
a little too big. His daughter was in the Air Force Reserve so he could not
help but wonder for a moment where she had gotten the clothes. And judging by
the damage that Amy and her friends had done to dinner last night they had not
been eating either very much or with much regularity or some combination of the
two since the current emergency began.
The young woman
twitched and murmured occasionally in her sleep, her hands opening and closing
her legs kicking a little under the blanket, reminding her father of a dog
chasing rabbits as it snoozed. Jessica and her husband exchanged slightly
worried expressions when Amy made a noise that sounded kind of like she was mumbling
the word ‘No’ over and over again under her breath interrupted occasionally by
low noises that might have been screams if she were awake. Jessica was about to
wake her when thankfully their daughter groaned and rolled onto her side a
moment later as whatever nightmare she was having released her from its grasp.
The man felt his
heart swell up with pride as he watched his daughter sleep. His baby girl had
really only just gotten back from a tour of duty in Iraq when she had gotten
called up to help out during the trouble in Boston a month or so ago. The only
word they had from her was when Laura Lacey came to their house in Holden with
her two kids and asked for help a day or two before everything really started
getting bad in Boston. She had said that they were a Marine’s dependents and
that Amy had sent her and their daughter was okay. As an Inactive Marine
himself, George very well could not do the unchristian thing and turn them
away.
So after waiting
a couple more days he had Jessie and their son, Carl, pack their things and
they all came to stay at their hunting camp north of town until everything
settled down. Only things did not settle down… He had secretly made his peace
with God, given up his child for dead and prayed for her immortal soul about
two or three days after the television and radio stations stopped broadcasting.
That had been
about two weeks ago but Jessica had always set out a place for Amy and Mrs.
Lacey’s husband at meals. George just could not bring himself to tell his wife
that they…would probably not be coming. Then, miracle of miracles, Amy rolled
up yesterday afternoon in a Humvee with Private Lacey and this Army Specialist
named Rodriguez.
Jessie felt a
tear roll down her cheek when she saw that poor Hispanic girl still asleep in
their recliner curled up with that sweet little Paul, one of the Lacey’s two
children. The young woman might have been pretty once but now she had a face
like a mile of bad road. You could almost make out where the woman had been
wearing those fancy protective sunglasses they gave to soldiers now: the area
around her eye still looked normal but her right cheek and side of her neck was
a moonscape of pockmarks and pale scars.
A few of
George’s friends from the VFW had scars like that, shrapnel or burns picked up
in rice patties in Vietnam or Iraq the first time around… Amy had introduced
her as Specialist Rodriguez. The poor girl could not walk all that well because
Amy said she had been shot in the leg a couple weeks ago. The poor babies, all
of them…
Carl shifted on
his cot and grumbled in his sleep a few feet away from them. He was tall for
his age and handsome like his father, though he had his mother’s sandy blond hair.
Jessie started to cry silently into her husband’s chest. “Poor babies. Oh
George…our poor babies…”
A noise drew the
Frays’ attention. Becca, the Lacey’s other child, crawled out of the pile of couch
cushions and blankets where the little ones had spent the night. The children
both had unruly mops of brown hair and big blue eyes, a sign of the fact that
they were fraternal twins. The little girl smiled mischievously at the Jessica
and George then carefully tiptoed over to the hide-a-bed. Becca climbed up on
to the mattress and rested her chin in her hands, staring at the sleeping woman
with intense curiosity. Amy was a new and strange thing to her: she was Mommy’s
age but Daddy listened to her and did what she said and she wore Army clothes
and carried a gun like Daddy. It was all very, very puzzling to the four year
old girl.
Amy stretched
and groaned, writhing on the bed for a second as she worked the kinks out of
her stiff muscles. After spending the last month or so sleeping on cots, floors
or wherever else seemed safe enough for the moment the thin lumpy mattress was
like heaven wrapped in bacon. It occurred to her that she had kind of lost track
of the date. Her watch’s face was cracked so that all she could really make out
was the time. Amy could tell it was Friday…for all the help that was.
She had very
nearly fallen back to sleep when Frays felt a sneaking suspicion that somebody
was watching her… She rolled onto her back and looked over to find her face
inches from one of Lacey’s kids. “GAH!” Frays shouted as she pushed herself
away from the child and almost leapt out of bed before managing to calm herself
down. “Jeez, kiddo! Don’t do that!” She flopped onto her back one hand pressed
over her heart, which was hammering away in her chest. She did not even realize
that her other hand had closed around the grip of the pistol in the drop leg
holster on her right thigh and half drawn the weapon. Frays slowly loosened her
grip on the M9 and smiled awkwardly as she snapped the pistol back into its
holster.
Becca laughed
and moved a little closer to Amy with a big grin on her face, revealing a gap
between her two front teeth. The little girl growled in mock ferocity as she
crawled on her hands and knees towards Amy. Frays scowled playfully at the
child and caught her as she approached, flipping Becca onto her back and tickling
her armpits.
The little boy
woke when Frays shouted and scrambled out of the chair and to his sister’s
defense. Paulie climbed up onto the bed and jumped onto Amy’s back where he got
one of his little arms around the woman’s throat. Frays gave an exaggerated cry
and let the boy pull her off his sister and giggled as the two children started
trying to return the favor. Frays sniggered at first and squirmed, trying to
work the children’s fingers out of her armpits but inexplicably felt a growing
alarm a few seconds later. “Okay, guys! Stop!” she said quietly then repeated
herself a little louder as the panic worked its way out of her chest through
her voice. Frays started trying to push the children away gently at first then
harder as blind terror started eating away at her self control. Amy suddenly inexplicably
found herself scared to frigging death of these two little kids. “Stop! Guys!
That’s enough!”
A pair of hands
grabbed Paul and hoisted the boy into the air. “When somebody says stop you
stop, alright Paulie?” the child’s father, Adam, said sternly as he picked his
son up and held him. Becca looked over at her father then ran across the bed
and wrapped her little arms around his middle. Amy flashed a relieved smile and
nodded thanks to the short, wiry man and took a moment to catch her breath as
she hid her shaking hands in her armpits.
A tall, willowy
blonde shook her head as she came and grabbed Becca away from her father. “Come
on, kids.” Laura said sourly as she jostled her daughter. “Let Amy get woken up
before you start jumping on her.”
Rodriguez
fiddled with the chair she was sitting in for a moment before getting the
footrest to fold down. “Yeah. It’s a little early for roughhousing, little man.”
Frannie mumbled as she made her way painfully to her feet and dug something
crusty out of the corner of her eye. The woman’s leg was throbbing because
Paulie had ground his leg against the mostly healed bullet wound on her thigh
on his way to goof around with Frays.
Amy got out of
bed and looked around the house as she tucked her tee shirt into the waistband
of her ACU trousers and threw on her jacket. It took a moment but a burning
sensation made its way up her legs from the soles of her feet. Frays grimaced
as she quickly made up the bed and folded it back into the couch writing the
sensation off as one of the many bumps, bruises and scrapes she had gotten on
their trip here from Boston. There seemed to be a sort of permanent cramp in
the base of her neck, probably from when the dump truck had hit her Humvee….
Frays pushed the thought away as Lacey and his children carried the cushions over
and put them back where they belonged.
Now that
everyone was awake, Jessica went into the kitchen and set about getting
breakfast ready. She was not planning anything fancy, just powdered milk and
corn flakes and some freeze dried instant coffee. Laura mixed up a giant
pitcher of the faux milk, sparing a glance over her shoulder while Mrs. Frays
got the cereal out of the cupboard and took down bowls. Her stomach churned a
little when she saw her husband and Amy setting the table for breakfast. They
were not overtly flirting or
anything…but…
Frays, Lacey and
Rodriguez exchanged uneasy glances as they ate after George said the blessing.
“Um…hey, Dad.” Amy said quietly as she swallowed a mouthful of the bland
cereal. She sprinkled just a tiny bit of sugar from the little bowl into the
cup of coffee steaming at her elbow. “What have you guys heard about all this?
I mean…how bad is it?”
George was quiet
for almost a minute. He stared into his bowl as he stirred the cereal around.
“The TV and radio stopped about three weeks ago. It was kind of hard to tell
what was true and what was…road apples.” He looked at his wife sitting next to
him and took her hand. “One live report said there was rioting in Springfield
and the bridges and tunnels around New York had been shut down. They showed the
Queensboro Bridge getting hit with an airstrike.”
Rodriguez
shuddered, suddenly feeling queasy. Lacey took his wife’s hand and squeezed it.
“What else? I mean…that couldn’t be it.” he said quietly. “There wasn’t
anything else on the news or anything?” He knew it was bad but somehow he had
been holding out hope that it was somehow just a local thing, that there would
be some chance of rescue or whatever…
“Well, we’re
here.” Amy said, her tone a little sharper than she intended. She paused a
second to calm herself before continuing. “There’s gotta be other people around
here somewhere.” The young airman shook her head “I mean…there has to. We can’t
be it. There’s a radio in the Humvee. Time to set up a radio watch. Somebody’s
gotta be out there and then they’ll let us know where they are.” Jessica took
her daughter’s hand under the table and held it. Amy squeezed her mother’s hand
then, as if she realized what she was doing, pulled herself free. There was
something about the urgent insistence in her voice… Jessica caught the glances
that Lacey, Rodriguez and Amy tossed at each other.
George looked at
his children for a minute. “Amy, what did you guys hear?” he asked somewhat
hesitantly. The three of them had to have been through Hell over the past few
weeks and he hated to bring it up but there had been no news since the
television and radio stopped. “What’s it like out there?”
Amy absently
stirred her cereal before spooning some of the soggy flakes into her mouth and
chewing slowly. “I think Boston’s pretty much done.” she said carefully,
mindful of the small children. No use in scaring them any more than they
already had to be. “The quarantine didn’t hold. Hardly anybody showed up.”
Frays lowered her eyes towards her food and took a sip of coffee. “I don’t know
what the news said, but the people going around attacking everybody aren’t
sick. They’re dead. I know how it sounds, but it’s true. I didn’t want to
believe it myself but it’s true.” The young woman shifted around in her chair
both hands closed around her coffee mug as if she were trying to warm herself
with it.
The dining area
was silent as Amy’s words started to sink in. Dead people walking? And
attacking people no less? George looked at his daughter. She seemed more than a
little shaken by something lending credence to what she had said. His little
girl would not lie to him but it sounded crazy and he somehow got the sense
that there was something she was not telling them about. George made up his
mind to try and talk to her about it later, maybe after dinner or something
when they were in private.
Carl cleared his
throat and spoke up. “We should at least go check on the neighbor’s camps.” he
said as he looked around the table nervously. “I mean, if the Drakes and
Harrisons are around then maybe we can...you know…pool our resources or whatever.”
He smiled a little bit when his father and sister both nodded thoughtfully.
“That could
work.” George said after he finished his cereal. He spared a glance at Adam
Lacey and looked around the table. “I think we should get this place a little
more secure first. Probably should have done it before hand, but we’ve got more
people now.”
“I can help
there, sir. I’m a Combat Engineer.” Lacey said quickly. He glanced over at
Frays then looked at his wife for a second. “What do you say we take a quick
look around the perimeter, knock heads about locking this place down a little
better, boss?”
Amy did not miss
the bitter looks Mrs. Lacey shot at her and her husband. “Sure. Let’s do some
personal hygiene and gear up in thirty.” she said, trying to give Lacey’s wife
a look that said she had nothing to be afraid of. Frays winced when she pushed
herself away from the table and stood up.
“Amy, let me
take a look at your feet.” George said as watched his daughter take her bowl
over to the sink. It looked like she was walking across the carpet as if it
were hot sand.
Frays turned and
gave her father a strange look, sending a twinge of pain rocketing from the
soles of her feet to her hips. “I’m fine, Dad.” she said quickly as soon as she
could open her mouth without screaming. George speared his daughter with a hard
look. He could tell she had to be in agony: her face was strained and her jaw
was clenched shut.
“Amy, sit down
over there” he said sternly as he pointed towards the couch “and let me look at
your feet.” George pushed back from the table and stood up slowly, his hands
resting on his hips. Adam smirked behind his hand. In the brief time he had
known Frays she had taken that tone with him more than once and it took
everything he had to not burst out laughing now that the shoe seemed to be on
the other foot for a change.
Amy and her
father stared each other down for a moment until Amy frowned and looked at the
floor. “Alright.” the young woman grumbled as she picked her way across the
room to the couch and sat down grumpily. George followed and knelt next to his
daughter’s feet then pulled off her socks, cringing a little inside when Amy
started whispering “Ouchouchouchouch!” under her breath. Once he got the socks
off he could quickly see why she was hurting. The skin under the wool socks was
blotchy and raw looking, as if a lot of it had fallen off or something. The
nail on her left pinky toe looked like it was either gone or covered over with
a big blister.
“Hon, could you
get me the first aid kit out of the bathroom, please?” George called over his
shoulder. He could feel the others crowding around a little bit, all of them
trying to see what was wrong. George shook his head and looked up at daughter’s
face for a moment before turning to glance over his shoulder. “Lacey, there’s a
big plastic tub under the sink. Fill that with warm water and bring it out here
along with soap and a washcloth.” He glanced up at his daughter and frowned.
“You should have said something last night.”
Jessica returned
with the first aid kit and handed it to her husband followed closely by Adam
with the warm water. She started to sit next to Amy but stopped when her
daughter speared her mother with a warning glance. The two children crouched on
either side of the man, watching with perplexed expressions as he treated his
daughter’s feet.
Once he had on a
pair of latex gloves he first carefully inspected Amy’s feet then worked up a soapy
lather on the washcloth. George gently washed her feet to get rid of the last
bits of dead skin then carefully pried each of her toes apart so he could clean
in between them. Amy’s face was pinched up in pain as her breath came in short
bursts. She squeezed handfuls of the couch cushions while her father gently scrubbed
with the washcloth, abrading off dead skin then disinfecting the affected area.
Becca left the
group for a moment then returned with a fuzzy little teddy bear in her hands
which she offered to Amy. Frays smiled and chuckled when the little girl gave
her a harsh look then shoved the stuffed toy into her arms. Paulie frowned at
his sister then stood up and hugged his father’s leg. The Marine picked up his
boy and held him tight while he watched Mister Frays treat his daughter.
“Looks like you’ve
got one nasty skin infection or something going on here, young lady.” George
admonished while he tested the temperature of the water with his fingertips. If
she had been one of his Marines he would have read her the riot act about
proper personal hygiene while in the field, making her recite chapter and verse
from training manuals and then volunteering her for every single shit detail
that he could come up with just to make sure the message sank in. Then again
his daughter was Air Force. They probably did not spend much time on stuff like
that. He smiled a little bit as he rinsed off her feet then gently helped the
young woman set them in the water to soak. “This should help, but you’re not
going anywhere for at least a couple days.”
Amy frowned and
groaned under her breath. “C’mon, Dad.” she grumbled as she tried to stand up
but George reached out and put a hand on his daughter’s middle. He gently pushed,
forcing her to sit back down. “Dad, we’ve got a lot of stuff to do. I can’t
just sit here.”
George smiled
and shook his head. She reminds me a lot
of me at that age. he thought then changed his expression into a scowl.
“Yeah, but you won’t be any good to anybody if your feet get any worse. You’re
staying put and that’s final.”
Amy grumbled
under her breath. “Fine.” she said sharply. Frays looked down at her lap for a
moment and tried to slap a more dignified expression onto her face. “So, what’s
the plan for today? Are we gonna start boarding this place up too or go check
on the neighbors?”
“I say we secure
this place first.” Lacey said as he set his son down and looked at the others. “What
do we have on hand? I mean, this place isn’t that big so we can get it squared
away pretty quickly between us.”
“I got a
woodshop out in the barn.” George said as he stood up and glanced at the others
then tapped Adam on the arm. “C’mon, Lacey. There’s a pile of two by fours in
there. I’ll cut them up to fit over the windows and you and Carl can bring ‘em
in here so Jessie and Laura can nail ‘em up. You and me can tear out the
staircase leading to the deck after that. From what we’ve seen, those things
can’t climb very well.”
Amy and Frannie
exchanged glances. “What are we gonna do?” Frannie asked when George and Adam
started off towards the front of the house. “I mean, I can sort of get around.
I can help put the boards up on the windows.”
George nodded.
“Alright. Just don’t push yourself too hard.” he said quietly then turned to
face his daughter on the couch. “Amy, dry your feet off after a couple more
minutes and elevate them. You keep an eye on the kids as best you can but don’t
you let me catch you off that couch unless it’s an emergency, you hear me?”
George led the
way to the woodshop and unlocked the barn with the key on his key ring. The
older man held the door for Adam and closed it behind them. “I’m glad we got a minute
to talk like men.” George said as he flicked on the lights then walked across
the room to a pile of long planks stacked in the corner of the room. “I’ll only
ask this once and I expect you to be honest. Have you done anything with my
daughter you can’t tell your wife about?”
A pained
expression ghosted across Adam’s face. There was a lot that he had seen and
done since he had seen his family last that he would be perfectly happy if his
wife and kids never ever ever found out about. “No, sir!” he said quickly when
he realized what George was alluding to. Adam chuckled to himself as he looked
around the shop. “Look, nothing like what you’re thinking of anyway.
Sir…Frays…your daughter… We saved each other like a dozen times between us
trying to get out of Boston. I dunno…we…we kept each other going, know what I
mean? And…um…I-I…ya know…killed two men that were going to…to, well I think
they were…ya know…gonna hurt her.” Adam blinked, clearly taken aback that information
had slipped out.
Now it was
George’s turn to look surprised. “What do you mean hurt her?” he asked. He
scowled, a sick feeling starting to roll around in the pit of his stomach as he
was not exactly sure if he really wanted to hear what the young man was going
to say.
“We ran into a
couple guys from my squad.” Lacey mumbled, shuddering at the memory of that day
a few weeks ago. “Lance Corporals Holder and Reynolds…real jerks… They used to
treat me like shit. Anyways, they tried to steal our Humvee but we stopped
them. Frays zip tied their hands behind their backs but Holder got loose. He
held a knife to Am-er…Frays’ throat and I shot him…Reynolds tried to jump me
and I shot him too…” Adam shuddered. Sometimes he woke at night disturbed by
dreams where he was a half second too late or his aim was off only by a few
inches…
“Good for you,
son.” George said as he walked up and shook Adam’s hand furiously. “As far as I
can see, you’ve got nothing to feel guilty about.” He put an arm around the
younger man’s shoulders and clapped him on the back. “Thank you. I mean that. Now,
let’s get this done.”
George measured
the boards and cut them to length while Adam carried them into the house. The
women nailed the two by fours over the windows while Amy scowled at them and
from her position on the couch.
Becca sat on the
floor next to the couch and took it upon herself to keep her new best friend
Amy entertained while she recuperated: she had discovered an ancient issue of
Time magazine on a shelf. The little girl could not read so she flipped through
it and made up stuff to go along with the pictures inside instead. Frays, still
not best pleased with being confined to the couch, still listened politely and
asked questions helping Becca come up with more details. Paulie helped Frannie
and the others by carrying a big coffee can full of nails around as he followed
behind them. The little boy shot looks at his sister and Amy whenever he
happened to be nearby.
It was almost
lunchtime by the time that the windows were covered with boards and the staircase
ripped out that connected the deck to the concrete stairs that led down the
cliff face to the shore of the lake below. George mounted brackets into the
frame of the front door at head middle and ankle height to hold pairs of two by
fours nailed together which they could use to bar the door. Now that it was
reinforced, the already sturdy door with its five hinges screwed into a steel
doorframe and two deadbolt locks would take a lot of work to knock in.
With the house
now reasonably well secured, Jessie and Carl made a pile of peanut butter
sandwiches for the noon meal and opened up a bag of corn chips while Laura
mixed up a pitcher of lemonade. Everyone except Amy gathered around the table
to eat, who lay on the couch and glumly accepted the sandwich her little
brother gave her. He smiled and patted his sister’s shoulder before joining
everyone at the table. A secret little thrill ran through him as he sank into
an empty seat next to Frannie. Their chairs were so close that he could smell
her hair, practically feel the warmth of her body heat next to him…
A sour look
passed over George’s face as he cleared his throat and exchanged a troubled
glance with his wife before he began saying the blessing. They ate quietly for
a few moments mainly because they all seemed to having the same problem: the
peanut butter was sticking to the roofs of their mouths. “So how far is it from
here to your neighbors?” Rodriguez asked once she managed to drink a little
lemonade. The drink was really watered down, she guessed to probably make the
powdered drink mix last a little longer. Her mother did the same thing when she
was growing up…
“It’s probably about
a mile or so on either side.” Carl said as he struggled with a stubborn bit of
sandwich. He was suddenly a little self conscious and fought back the urge to
scrape the peanut butter off with his finger. Did he just catch Frannie smile a
little out of the corner of his eye?
Amy wolfed down
the sandwich and started in on the handful of corn chips that Carl had put on
her plate. “Before we go tromping off, how much stuff do we got here?” she
asked as she propped herself up on an elbow and tried to look at everyone
around the table. “Once we’re finished eating I say we take an inventory.”
“We’ve got about
a year or so worth of food up in the attic. Or we did, anyways. We weren’t
counting on five extra people.” George said his brow wrinkling slightly as he
concentrated. “The storage bins in the boiler room are still full of firewood
from those trees that fell down last spring. We’ve got about three quarters of
that thousand round tin you bought for your old Mosin-Nagant that Carl’s using
plus something like nine hundred rounds of twelve gauge birdshot and slugs.
There’s five hundred rounds in the cabinet for my .45 and eight hundred for my
Winchester. There’s a little Marlin .22 and about three hundred rounds for that
too.”
Adam could not
help but be a little impressed. “Looks like we won’t need much for a little
while anyway.” he said quietly as he popped a couple corn chips into his mouth.
Lacey smiled at his kids and took his wife’s hand under the table. “How much
first aid stuff do we have?”
“That’s the
problem.” Jessie said quietly as she refilled her glass. “A lot of the medicine
we have is going to expire soon. It was on the list to replace.” She felt an
inexplicable twinge of suspicion when the young man across the table from her
spared a barely perceptible glance over his shoulder towards Amy then
Rodriguez.
“Is there a drug
store or something in town?” Rodriguez asked as she glanced at Lacey then faced
the others. “We could go hit that up if there’s anything close by.” She popped
the last bite of her sandwich into her mouth and chewed slowly. “We’ve done it
a couple times already. No problem.”
George gave his
daughter and her friends a mildly disapproving glance then nodded slowly. He
knew his little girl was not the type to go around breaking the Eighth Commandment
unless it was the only way she could think of to help somebody else. Did the
Good Lord have an exception in the Ten Commandments for times like these? “The
grocery store in town has a pharmacy in it. I doubt there’s much left there
though. Things were starting to get…out of hand when we left.” he said quietly
and took a sip of the watery lemonade. The older man shook his head slowly.
“For right now I think we should just sit tight and let everybody get healed up,
try and scrounge up some food around here.”
“What, you mean
like hunting?” Rodriguez asked. She looked uneasy for a moment and fiddled with
some of the corn chips on her plate. Her eyes flitted around nervously. “I
dunno if I really wanna shoot Bambi and Thumper.”
Carl and his
father exchanged somewhat amused glances before the younger man spoke up. “It’s
not really that bad. When your leg is better I can show you how.” Carl said
quickly then cleared his throat and looked from Frannie to his parents. “I
mean, if it’s cool.”
Frannie could
not help but snicker and glanced at Mr. and Mrs. Frays. George and Jessica sat
there, shared a brief look of unease then George nodded. “If you want to,
Rodriguez. Don’t look at me.” he said with a hint of a smile. He made a mental
note to have ‘The Talk’ with the boy later. Granted, it was only fair since
Jessica had done it with Amy before she left for college, but still…it was not
something he was looking forward to. He felt his age for the first time in
awhile. His little boy was growing up.
Amy rolled her
eyes and sighed quietly. “Well, Rodriguez, Lacey how much ammo and stuff do you
guys have? Let’s all inventory our stuff after lunch, set up a guard schedule
and everything.”
There were piles
of M4 magazines, grenades and other bits of kit spread out on the living room floor
while Frays sat up somewhat on the couch. Rodriguez and Lacey sat Indian style
on the floor on opposite sides of the gear as they cleaned their personal
weapons. They had already field stripped and cleaned the M2 .50 caliber machine
gun from the back of the Humvee but Frays had used up the last of the
ammunition for it in Concord. ‘Ma Duce’ would be staying in the house for the
time being unless they got lucky and stumbled across some more. There were
still links scattered all over the floor in the Humvee so if they found loose
rounds they could get the big beast ready to rock again with a little work.
They might find some already linked up and ready to go at an overrun checkpoint
or something but the odds would be against something like that. If somebody
else did not pick it up the weather would likely have ruined it by now if the
ammunition was left out in the open.
Carl sat on the
little step between the dining and living rooms, watching the three of them as
they cleaned their weapons and reorganized their gear. Frays could not help but
notice the way he kept staring at Rodriguez when he thought nobody was looking.
Adam grumbled under his breath and looked at the two women and spared a glance
at his wife and kids. They were seated around the table the kids drawing on a
piece of paper. “Okay, between all of us counting what we’ve got in our weapons
we’ve got twenty fully loaded M16 mags, eight fully loaded M9 mags, four of
these CS grenades for your M203, two M84s and three M67s.” he announced as they
looked over the equipment placed in neat piles on the floor between them. “We
also got eighteen extra twelve gauge shells for the 1014 and seventy five
rounds for that .22 rifle there. I’ve got about a quarter pound or so of C4 and
seven blasting caps on clackers.”
Amy frowned,
nodding to herself as she did some math in her head. “Okay. Well, let’s divvy
the mags up between us.” she said carefully then regarded the other ammunition.
“I’ll keep my M203 rounds. One M67 a piece. Rodriguez, you wanna keep your
flashbangs?”
“Three people,
three frag grenades.” Frannie said as she accepted one of the little metallic
baseballs from Adam and fastened it into a pouch on her plate carrier. The
front plate in the carrier was more or less useless now but she had to admit
that it had held up like a champ. It had stopped both a high powered rifle
round and one of the two pistol rounds fired at her back in Concord. The other
had dug the furrow across the top of her left thigh taking a good chunk of the
quadriceps with it. She gave the others a wry grin and snorted. “I’ll keep one
of the M84s, unless you guys don’t have carriers.”
“Can I have
one?” Carl asked hopefully. He looked from Lacey to Frannie to his sister and
grinned as he stood up and walked up to Lacey. “C’mon, please? It would be
sooooo cool!” Frannie and Adam burst out laughing when Amy and her parents all
shouted “NO!” at the same time. The three of them went through the rest of
their gear and packed it up in their rucksacks after they divided up the
limited supply of ammunition and magazines.
Lacey fingered a
hole in the crotch of the Army ACU trousers as he stuffed it back into his
rucksack and frowned. “Does anybody have a needle and thread?” he asked and
looked around the room. Amy and Frannie looked at each other then at Laura. She
shrugged and glanced at Jessica.
“I think I’ve
got some around here somewhere.” Jessie said quietly as she finished drying the
plate in her hands and put it in the cabinet. George glanced at the younger
Marine and shook his head and finished up the last of the lunch dishes. Jessica
returned a few moments later with a spool of thread and needle, which she
tossed to Adam. “Here ya go.”
Adam smiled.
“Thanks, Mrs. Frays.” he said and started trying to thread the needle. It took
him a couple tries and then he had a go at repairing the hole in the garment. The
man mainly succeeded in breaking the thread a couple times and jabbing himself
in the finger. After a couple minutes of watching Lacey make an attempt at it
Amy grumbled and held out her hand.
“Gimme that, Jarhead.”
she said quietly. Adam dutifully handed over the garment along with the thread
and needle. “Watch me, alright?” Laura frowned when her husband moved to Amy’s
side and sat close to her while she mended his clothing for him. Rodriguez
frowned slightly as she took in the scene then shook her head, grabbed her M4
and went out onto the deck where she sat down in a plastic chair and rested her
chin in her hands, watching the lake.
She spared a
glance over her shoulder to make sure she was alone then took a plastic
medicine bottle out of a pouch on her carrier, shook one of the blue pills into
the palm of her hand and swallowed it with a little water from her camelbak. A
sudden, horrible thought occurred to her like a flash of lightning: she could
take all the antidepressants in the bottle and it could all be over. No more
pain, no more having to put on a happy face… She could just curl up, go to
sleep and that would be that.
The woman
frowned at the carbine resting between her legs. The muzzle turned into a black
hole absorbing her thoughts, drawing her inwards. That would almost certainly
get it done. It wouldn’t be the first
time I had something big and black in my mouth... Frannie thought bitterly
as she shifted her weight in the flimsy plastic chair and considered the
business end of the homemade suppressor clamped over the weapon’s muzzle. It
would make a helluva mess if she ate her gun. And Amy’s family seemed like nice
enough people never mind those poor kids…
She sat there a
little while, listening to the sound of the breeze blowing through the trees,
trying not to dwell on any of the dark thoughts plaguing her. Just because her
mom was probably dead along with the rest of her squad that had made it to the
armory was no reason to do anything rash. That idiotic Lieutenant Jenkins, Sergeant
Barnes along with Evans and that poor damn fool Powers. Moore had gotten torn
to bits because the lieutenant refused to listen to Frays for some reason,
driving the LT to commit murder and suicide.
She tried to not
think about the firefight with the locals in Concord. The blood all over the
inside of the Humvee, chunks of Sergeant Barnes’ head spattered on the window.
The recoil of the Mark 19 shuddering through the palms of her hands the flashes
of the 40mm grenades detonating. Running for her life after Evans got tagged
and crashed the truck…
There had been
one small piece of light in the shape of a chubby Irishman named Eamon. He had
loved her and treated her better than she really deserved… She realized that
now, despite how much she had tried to keep things casual, she had loved him
too. Not that it mattered in the end. She had always been kind of a bitch to
him…not that it mattered anymore. Eamon was dead now too. He had died raiding a
hospital to get surgical supplies to patch up the gunshot wound in her leg. He
had given up his life for hers…a highly trained doctor for a crippled ex-junkie
did not strike her as a fair exchange in her opinion.
The door slid
open a few minutes later and Amy’s mom came out onto the deck. “Would you like
another cup of coffee?” Jessica asked from the doorway. “There’s a little hot
water leftover from breakfast if you do.”
Rodriguez forced
a smile. “Sure. I’ll take some if it wouldn’t be any trouble.” she said and
then turned her attention back to the area around the house. It was nice and
quiet…kind of like looking at a postcard or something. It was so different from
Boston or Hanscomb or the tedious madhouse that had been that goddamn school… The
door opened up again and Frannie turned in her chair when she heard the sound
of tiny footsteps.
“Hey Frannie!”
Paul said with a big grin as he walked towards her. He had what looked like
Matchbox cars in his hands which he held out for Frannie to see. “Wanna play
trucks with me?”
Frannie smiled
at the little boy, her heart melting into a puddle. “I’d like to, buddy but I’m
working right now.” she said quietly. The little boy seemed disappointed and
looked at the toy cars in his hands. “Why don’t you ask your sister to play?”
Paulie went over
to the table near the door and put his toys on it before coming over to Frannie.
“She’s doing more pitchers.” the boy said, his little face wrinkling up with
distaste. “What you doing?”
“Well…I’m…watching
out for…stuff.” Frannie said quietly. The little boy stared at her as if trying
to puzzle something out. He walked a little closer and rested his chin on her
forearm as he looked up at her. Frannie could not help but feel a little
uncomfortable, as if she could sense Paul’s big blue eyes pressing into the
scars on her face and neck. She started to wonder when the boy would start to
ask the same questions strangers always asked eventually.
Paulie pressed
his cheek against her arm. “What kinda stuff are you watching for?” he asked. The
boy looked from Frannie’s face to the black carbine between her legs and back
again. She gave an exaggerated sigh then leaned her M4 against the railing and
let the boy climb into her lap.
“Strangers and
stuff like that.” Frannie said as she let the boy get comfortable in her lap
and put her arms around him. She frowned slightly then sighed and smiled. “Tell
you what, buddy. Wanna help?”
The boy’s face
lit up. “Really? Neat!” he said as he settled back against Frannie’s chest. The
two of them sat there for a little while, enjoying the little noises of the
forest around them. Frannie could only guess at what half of them were. She
figured that most of the sounds were birds or bugs or something. There were
little screeching chitterling type noises that made the little boy in her lap
tense up every once in awhile. Paulie would look around then relax after a couple
seconds when Rodriguez held him tight.
The door slid
open again and Jessica came back with a mug of coffee in each hand. Frannie
frowned a little bit as she picked the boy up and set him down on the deck. “Thank
you very much, Mrs. Frays.” Frannie said as she accepted the steaming mug. She
frowned and looked at her lap for a moment. “I…um…really don’t know how to
thank you guys.”
Jessica simply
smiled and patted the woman’s forearm. “Don’t think anything of it.” she said then
turned her attention to the boy. “Hey Paulie, George and Carl were planning on
going fishing. If you ask nice, I’ll bet they’ll take you with them.” The boy grinned
widely and scampered off into the house in search of Carl and Mister Frays.
“It’s no trouble at all taking you kids in.” Jessica said as she took a sip of
her coffee.
Frannie suddenly
took a quick breath and covered her mouth. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” she said
quietly as she stifled a choking sob. Jessica moved closer and put an arm
around Frannie’s shoulders and took the younger woman’s free hand in hers.
After a couple minutes Frannie sort of smiled and made a half hearted attempt
at a laugh. “Here I am twenty six years old crying my eyes out because I miss
my mom and my…um…boyfriend.” Jessica snorted which made Rodriguez smile a
little bit. “Your daughter does that too. Now I know where she gets it.”
“What’s your
first name?” Jessica said, still smiling. She separated herself from the
younger woman and took a sip of her coffee. “If you’re going to stay I’m not
calling you Rodriguez or Specialist or whatever.”
“It’s Francesca.
You can call me Frannie.” Rodriguez said as she wiped her eyes. She took a
drink of her coffee, strangely enjoying the feeling of the caffeine making a
dynamic entry on her brain like a horde of pissed off Rangers that were all
hopped up on steroids and PCP. Then, she reflected, it had been a while since
she was not stoned off her ass on a prescription only narcotic. It actually felt
pretty good to be sober for a change.
“Nice to meet
you, Frannie. You can call me Jessie.” Jessica looked at Frannie with an
expression of utter seriousness. “Listen, Frannie…there’s something I need to
ask.” she said with a small, uncomfortable sigh. Her face twisted around as if
she were thinking of the best way to ask a difficult question. “I don’t know
what’s going on, but something’s the matter with Amy. What really happened out
there? I know she’s not telling us everything.”
Rodriguez tried
to hide her face as best she could behind her coffee cup. “Well, it wasn’t exactly
a cake walk getting here.” she said at last with a sarcastic little smirk as
she motioned to her wounded leg. “Please, Jessie…I don’t know how much Amy
would want me to tell you guys. We talked sometimes and stuff, but…please talk
to her, alright?”
“That’s just it,
Frannie.” Jessica said angrily. The woman set her coffee cup on the table and
looked at the deck between her feet. “Amy used to do stuff with her dad but I was the one she talked to…if that
makes any sense. Since she got back from Iraq…I mean…she used to call at least
twice or three times a week to say hi and just chat. She got off the plane,
hung around for a couple of days and then she went back to school. She called
once in the month or so before everything…you know.”
Rodriguez
frowned. Go talk to your damn daughter
instead of griping to me, lady. Frannie thought, suddenly inexplicably
furious with the older woman as she struggled to keep her face neutral. I don’t fucking need this shit right now. “I
guess it’s hard to talk about stuff with someone who wasn’t there.” she said
and shrugged. Frannie finished the last swallow of coffee in her cup and set it
on the railing. “I mean…I’m probably not the best person to talk to about this.
My mom tried so hard t-to help me after I got hurt…” The young woman felt tears
welling up in her eyes again. “I was kinda out of control and did a bunch of
things I’m…not proud of. I mean, I almost died…six of the twelve people in the
truck with me did die and…and Hendricks…Jesus, he lost both his arms…” Frannie’s
chest heaved as she struggled to keep down a fresh bout of sobs. “It’s no
excuse but…I mean…I dunno…”
“I-I’m so sorry
that happened to you.” Jessica said quietly as tears started coursing down her
cheeks. They both started when the glass door slid open and the twins bounded
out onto the deck followed closely by Carl, his father and Laura. Lacey had his
combat gear on, his M16 slung across his chest. Frays had turned lengths of an old
radio antenna into a handful of reasonably functional suppressors, which two
small pipe clamps and some one hundred mile an hour tape held over the end of
the rifle’s barrel while they were holed up in a high school a few weeks ago.
It worked pretty well for about seven or eight shot until the steel wool inside
the pipe melted from the heat of the rounds being fired.
“I’m gonna catch
a fish!” Paul announced with a big grin. The boy paused and looked at the damp
cheeks of the two women and frowned a little bit. He went over and pressed his
cheek against Frannie’s bicep, his little hands wrapping around her fingers as
he looked up at her with big puppy dog eyes. The boy tugged on her arm, trying
to pull her to her feet. “Come fishin’ with us, Frannie!”
Frannie laughed
and looked at the boy’s mother. “Maybe a little later, buddy.” she said as she
gave him a hug and kissed the top of Paul’s head. “Catch a big one, little
man.” Jessica and Frannie smiled as the others started herding the children
across the deck. Laura looked over her shoulder at Frannie and made a face like
she was going to say something but decided against it.
Jessica and
Frannie exchanged amused little glances as Lacey, Carl and George helped the
others across the gap between the deck and the cement landing and the stairs
that went down to the lake. “That little boy’s got a crush on you.” Jessie said
with a smirk. She sipped her coffee and glanced at the young woman sitting next
to her.
Frannie smirked
and nodded in agreement. “I think Carl does too.” she said quietly as her
fingers climbed up the craggy side of her throat. Rodriguez scratched the scars
on her cheek then looked at the planks between her feet and sighed, making a
conscious effort to stop.
“You noticed too,
huh?” Jessica said and smiled as she finished her coffee. The older woman
smiled uneasily. “Listen… We don’t know each other, so…”
Frannie snorted
and furrowed her brow. “Oh, God. No! He’s like half my age!” she exclaimed.
Jessica noticed an offended expression coming across the younger woman’s face
before she could hide it. Rodriguez rolled her eyes and turned her attention to
the others down by the water. “And now I feel old all of a sudden…” she mumbled and shook her head. Frannie found
herself wishing that Amy would come out or her mother would go inside so this
woman would leave her the hell alone.
Amy folded her
arms across her chest and sighed. Her feet already felt better but they still
looked kind of nasty, like uncooked sausages on the ends of her legs. She
frowned and glanced at the cup of coffee resting on the end table behind her head.
Frays glanced at her watch and furrowed her brow. Not even two hours in and I’m already bored out of my skull! the
young woman thought with a little bit of irony. She could not help but think
about the teacher’s lounge at the school where they had holed up, which in turn
led her thoughts back their trip to Fort Devins and clammy grasping hands
snapping teeth and oh God the stench… Frays blinked then shook from head to toe
and forced herself to focus her attention on the two people sitting on the
other side of the glass doors.
Rodriguez and
Mom were talking on the deck. The two of them seemed to get along pretty well. The
Laceys were with Dad and Carl down by the dock, probably having fun trying to
catch a fish or three for dinner. She wrapped her arms around herself, aware of
the fact that this was the closest she had been to being alone in almost a
month. It felt…kind of strange, really.
For a brief
moment the desire for a cigarette flared up so bad that she could almost taste that
sweet, sweet nicotine. Frays’ eyes flitted towards Rodriguez’s Kevlar on the
floor next to the blue recliner across the room and, more importantly, the half
empty pack of Marlboros stuck in the elastic band around the outside of the
helmet. Amy grumbled under her breath and jammed her hands into her armpits,
her frown deepening into a full on scowl.
The door slid
open and Jessica came inside. The two of them looked at each other for a minute
before Jessie smiled awkwardly. “How are you, Amy?” she asked and sank into the
rocking chair next to the couch. “Feeling okay?”
Amy sighed and
rolled her eyes. “I’m fine, Mom.” she said and squirmed around on the couch.
The younger Frays lifted her head and scratched behind her ear. She forced
herself to smile a little and turned to her mom. “I just wish I could help.
Jeez…stupid feet.”
Jessica chuckled
and tousled her daughter’s hair, earning her a frown from the younger woman. “Don’t
worry about it. You just relax and get better, hon.” she said with a small grin
“Are you sure you’re okay?” Jessie reached around and handed Amy her coffee
cup. She sat there for a little while, letting Amy take her time.
Amy’s mouth
pinched shut into a thin line she blinked a couple times and brushed a lock of
hair out of her eyes with one shaking hand. Her mouth opened and closed a
couple times, a hundred bad things springing to mind. What exactly did her mother expect her to say? That she had seen her
Flight Sergeant get shot in the face? She had tried to pull another airman’s
legs off because their truck was going to fall into the Charles River? A maniac
had held a knife to her throat and he and his friend were going to probably
drag her off into the woods so they could rape her to death a few weeks ago? That
a tired and scared young man had nearly blown her head off when all she wanted
to do was help him? That something she never would have believed could even exist
had tried to eat her alive?
“I’m fine, Mom.
Really. Thanks for the coffee.” she said with another strained smile. Frays
finished the coffee and settled into the couch cushions. “I think I’m going to
try and take a nap.”
The disappointed
expression on her mother’s face made Amy’s gut churn. “Alright, hon.” Jessica
said quietly and took the empty cup from her daughter’s hands. She looked
around quietly and gave Amy a hint of a conspiratorial grin. “Why don’t you go
into the back bedroom? The Laceys won’t be needing it for a little while.”
Lacey stood on
the shore next to his wife the two of them watching Paul who stood on the dock try
and make the tiny fishing pole work. Becca was probably not helping her brother
catch anything: she was amusing herself by throwing rocks in the water a few
feet away. George and Carl were standing a little farther along the shoreline,
their lines in the water. The skinny Marine smiled a little at his wife as his
eyes wandered taking in their surroundings. Rodriguez waved when she saw him
looking towards the house and he returned the gesture. Laura made a low, almost
animalistic noise under her breath. He turned and raised a quizzical eyebrow.
“What?”
Laura rolled her
eyes and turned, putting her back to him a little bit. “Nothing.” she said
quietly and crossed her arms. Adam put his arms around his wife and held her,
feeling the rigidness of her body. He smiled and rested his chin on her
shoulder, gently rocking her back and forth. Adam savored the scent of her
hair…her skin that, in his darkest moments, he thought he would never smell
again.
“God, I still
can’t believe you’re all safe.” he whispered in Laura’s ear and gently kissed
her cheek. It took a couple minutes but eventually she leaned back and snuggled
against Adam’s chest. “I was worried sick about you and the kids. I almost
can’t believe it.”
“I know, Adam.”
Laura whispered, enjoying the feeling of her husband’s arms around her. “Ow.” Adam’s
rifle started digging into her back. She turned and hugged her man and gave him
a quick peck on the lips.
“WOOOOOO!” Becca
called, imitating the sound effect she had heard when people kissed on
television. The little girl stopped throwing rocks at the lake to point at her
parents and laugh. Paul giggled then concentrated really hard and whipped the
rod towards the water just like Mister Frays had shown him. The little bobber
and impaled worm sailed through the air for a couple dozen feet before plopping
into the water over a submerged forest of dark green weeds.
The boy reeled
in the slack and waited intently, waiting for the slightest hint that he might
be getting a bite. The red and white plastic ball bobbed on the little waves
then suddenly disappeared below the surface. “Dad! Dad! I got one!” Paulie
shouted excitedly as he tried to reel in the fish. Adam rushed to his son’s
side and tried to think of some advice to give. He had not been fishing since
he was his son’s age.
A large silvery
fish twisted and writhed as Paul started reeling it in. The fishing pole’s reel
screeched occasionally when the trout tried to make a run for it. Adam became
aware of George and Carl standing behind him on the dock. “Holy smokes! Carl,
go get the net out of the shed!” the older man exclaimed. After what seemed
like a minor eternity, the fish finally gave up and allowed Paul to reel it in
and George scooped it up with a net.
“Wow! Dad,
look!” Paulie shouted and jumped up and down as the fish flopped and gasped in
the green nylon netting. The fish lay still and Becca crept in slowly for a
closer look then jumped and ran back to her mother when it suddenly flopped
around for a few minutes as if trying to make one last bid for freedom. Her
brother laughed and smiled up at his father.
“Good for you, Paulie!”
Adam said and pulled his son against his leg. “Boy, look at that!” He gave Paul
a prideful grin and looked at George. “Um…what do we do with it?”
George smiled
and reached into the net and pinched the trout’s bottom lip between his thumb
and forefinger, paralyzing the flopping fish. “Holy crow! That’s one of the
biggest rainbows I ever seen, kiddo.” he said and winked at the little boy as
he lifted the trout. “We’ll put him in a bucket over here and hopefully we’ll
catch a few more to have for supper tonight.”
Paulie grinned
widely as Carl filled a five gallon pail with lake water and set it on the
ground near the stairs. “Nice one, Paul.” Carl said and tousled the boy’s hair.
He dug around in his pocket and produced a crumpled dollar bill. “Here. Whoever
gets the first fish gets a dollar. Remember, Dad?” Paul’s grin widened when
both George and his father each gave him a dollar.
“Mom! Look!” he
cried joyfully as he held the money up for his mother to see. “I gots one…two…free
dollars!” The little boy crumpled up the bills and jammed them into the front
pocket of his jeans before racing back to the dock and picking up his fishing
pole again. His little tongue poked out of the corner of his mouth as he
concentrated then flicked his line back out onto the water.
Becca frowned
and stomped over to the shed where Mister Frays had gotten the fishing poles
from. There was another child sized one hidden in the cobwebs in the corner
behind an ancient refrigerator mounted to the wall in the back corner. “I’m
gonna catch a bigger one than you!” the little girl declared as she clomped
past him and onto the dock. “Daddy, gimme a wormy!”
It was almost
suppertime when George decided that they should pack it in. There was about a
dozen or so keeper sized fish battering into one another when he looked into
the pail. “Okay, everybody.” he said as he hefted their catch “Looks like we’re
about done for the day. Let’s get upstairs.”
The children
groaned and started reeling in their lines. Adam grinned at his children and
helped them pick up their things. The kids were probably going to be sore later
and he kicked himself for not making them put on sunscreen. Then, he reflected
that they all probably could have used some: the back of his neck felt dry and
hot.
“Time for you to
learn how to clean a fish, city boy.” George told Adam as he followed the
Laceys up the stairs. Adam smiled uneasily over his shoulder at Mister Frays
and sighed resignedly, obviously not looking forward to it.
Paulie raced
over to Rodriguez and scrambled into her lap as if the deck was lava. “Frannie!
I caught one! A real big one like this!” the boy said proudly as he spread his
hands as far apart as he could. He hugged her and smooched the scarred portion
of her face. “Did you see?”
“Yeah I did,
buddy!” Rodriguez said a slightly surprised look in her eyes despite the wide
grin on her face. “Way to go! I’m proud of you.” She returned the boy’s embrace
and then let him squirm off her lap and go inside to tell the others. Frannie
watched Paulie go inside then shook her head and chuckled to herself, one hand
absently stroking the scars on her cheek.
Adam and George
exchanged tight lipped grins after hearing the exchange between Paulie and
Rodriguez. “Lacey, could you go inside and get us some newspapers?” George
asked as he hefted the bucket onto the landing where, up until that morning,
the stairs from the deck had been attached. “And I think there’s a shovel by
the back door. Could you grab that too?”
Carl stared at
the empty couch when he entered the living room, his jaw dropping. “Mom! Where
are you?” he called into the house as he took three quick steps into the room
and looked around nervously. “Mom? Amy?” Carl swallowed hard and looked
uneasily over his shoulder towards Frannie, Laura and the kids on the deck.
“MOM?! AMY!?”
He felt kind of stupid
when his mother came out of the bathroom a half second later. “Carl, keep it
down!” she scolded with a small smile. “Your sister’s asleep in the back
bedroom.” Jessie gave her boy a quick hug and held him at arm’s length.
“Come on, Mom.”
Carl muttered under his breath as he squirmed free and glanced again towards
the deck. “Mom, stop. Come on.” He smiled a little and kept looking over his
shoulder to see if Frannie had witnessed him acting like a scared little kid.
“What, afraid
I’m gonna embarrass you in front of somebody?” she asked with a mischievous
grin as she glanced towards the people on the deck. “How many fish did you guys
catch? Enough for dinner?”
“Yeah, I think
we got enough.” Carl answered as he backed off a half pace and looked towards
the deck again. Paulie seemed to be keeping Frannie occupied, so he deemed that
there was little chance that she had seen him. He smiled at his mother. “I
think Dad’s gonna make Adam clean ‘em.”
“Would you ask
Mrs. Lacey and Frannie if they’d help with dinner, please?” Jessica said
sharply, glaring at her son. “Then make sure your sister’s up. Thanks.” She
shook her head slightly and smiled at Carl. “Just go easy on Mister Lacey, alright?
We’ve had it kinda bad but I think Adam, Frannie and Amy have had it worse.”
Carl nodded, his
brow furrowed. “Fine.” he grumbled under his breath and turned back towards the
living room. He relayed Mom’s message to Mrs. Lacey and Frannie on his way to
the door that led to the back bedroom. Carl rapped gently on the doorframe and
listened, trying to tell if Amy was still asleep inside or not.
He eased the
door open and crept up to the bed, a little surprised to see that little beads
of sweat were dotting his sister’s forehead. Her arms were wrapped around her
torso, her limbs twitching as she mumbled and made little groaning noises in
her sleep. “Hey, Aim?” he whispered as he tentatively reached out for her “Aim,
it’s time for dinner.”
Carl stumbled
out of the back bedroom, both hands clasped over the lower half of his face.
Laura and Jessica dropped what they were holding as Frannie rushed towards him.
“Hey, Carl. What happened, buddy?” she asked as the young woman took his arm
and pulled him toward the nearest chair at the kitchen table. “It’s alright,
man. Just lean your head back and let me take a look.”
“I…I hit him.”
Amy said from the doorway. She made her way to the table and sat down, hiding
her face in her hands. “I’m sorry, Carl. Are you okay?”
“I think you
broke my damn nose!” her brother shouted angrily as Rodriguez stuffed a bit of
gauze into the young man’s nostrils and held it there. “Jesus Christ on a
crutch, the hell is wrong with you?”
“Carl!
Language!” Jessica admonished as she rushed forward to take over for Frannie.
“What happened, Amy?” Frannie allowed Mrs. Frays to take her spot and gave her
friend a brief, worried look. Jessica pinched her son’s nose then glared over
her shoulder at her daughter. “Well?”
“I think I was
having a nightmare.” Frays admitted guiltily. She shook her head and looked at
the table in front of her, sighed and rubbed the back of her neck. “Carl grabbed
my shoulder and it startled me. Jeez, Carl…I’m sorry! I didn’t mean it. Are you
okay?”
Lacey looked
from Amy to her brother and back again. “Do you remember what it was about?”
Amy speared the man with a harsh look as the image of her flight sergeant’s
handsome face exploding in front of her the truck smashing into their Humvee
appeared on the insides of her eyelids. If anyone would know what she was
having nightmares about it was him…
She shuddered
and frowned slightly. “No, I don’t think so.” Amy muttered under her breath and
ran the palm of her hand over her face. Laura managed to catch a look of guilt
on her husband’s face as he turned away from her. Frays reached out and took
her brother’s hand. “I’m so sorry, Carl. I really didn’t mean it.”
His upper lip
was already puffing up, but he still managed to frown. “Next time I’ll wake you
up with a stick from across the room or something.” Carl grumbled bitterly as
he slowly stopped leaning back. He turned to look at Rodriguez standing behind
him. “Is it broken?”
“Nah, I don’t
think so.” she said as she clapped the younger man on the shoulder. “Just got a
big ol’ fat lip and a bloody nose. I’ll get you a little ice from the freezer.”
While Rodriguez crossed the kitchen Amy struggled to her feet and made her way
painfully towards the bedroom door. Frannie sighed and shook her head as she
filled a little Ziploc baggie with ice cubes and wrapped it in the dishtowel
hanging on the handle of the stove.
“Your daughter
nearly knocked your son’s block off.” Lacey announced as he walked down the
steps towards the landing where George awaited him with the bucket of fish. He
handed the older man the rolled up newspapers from under his arm and frowned.
“Everybody’s okay. So…how’s this work anyway?”
George nodded to
himself as he spread the papers on the cement. “Well, pay attention.” he said
as he flicked open his sharp knife and reached into the bucket. In a matter of
minutes a largemouth bass went from flopping and gasping on a year old edition
of the Boston Globe to two good sized fillets. “That’s how it works, son.” He
held the knife out to Lacey handle first with a grin “Your turn, Private. Take
action.”
Somehow he could
imagine that Frays would have found the whole scene hilarious as he tried to
grab the big trout his son had caught out of the bucket and get it onto the
newspaper. Her father certainly seemed to be getting a kick out of it. He
managed to get a hold of the fish long enough to get it almost out of the
bucket before it squirmed out of his grasp.
He had to chase
the flopping fish around a little before he got it onto the newspaper. Adam even
managed to laugh at himself a little bit as he tried to hold the fish down but
his face became grim as he held the knife behind the fish’s gill slit. He took
a deep breath and started to fillet the wriggling trout. He shuddered
involuntarily when the fish finally shivered and stopped moving about halfway
through the procedure.
It took him a
little getting used to but Lacey managed to do a pretty good job cleaning the
fish. The whole thing was kind of funny, really. He had killed two men and God
knew how many of those things but he was squeamish about flaying a couple dumb
slimy fish. The sight of the blood on his hands still made him a little sick to
his stomach though.
George wrapped
the fillets in some of the newspapers and handed them to Adam. “Take those inside
and give them to Jessie, if you would.” he said as he scrapped the fish guts
onto another piece of bloody newsprint and bundled them up. “I’ll get a shovel
out of the boiler room and bury these in the garden and be along in a minute.”
“Hey guys.” Adam
said as he set the fish on the deck and hopped over the gap where the stairs
used to be. It took him a minute to wriggle his skinny ass over the drop off,
just enough time for Rodriguez to grow concerned, come over and help him. “Got
the fish done.”
Frannie wrinkled
her nose in disgust. “Yeah, smells like it.” she chided as Lacey picked up the
bundle of newspaper and started towards the glass doors. Rodriguez opened the
door for him and grinned. “Wash your damn hands before you get that stink all
over the house.”
Lacey flashed a
brief smile when he looked at Frays, who sat in the blue recliner with her feet
up frowning at the paperback novel in her hands. He glanced towards his wife
and Amy’s mom in the kitchen and smiled again. He could sense that both the
women had their suspicions about what he and Frays might have been up to
together. He was glad that Frays’ dad had been upfront about it and seemed
ready to take him at his word when he said that nothing happened romantically
between his daughter and himself. Laura on the other hand…
The kids were in
the bathroom, probably getting washed up for dinner. “Are you okay?” he asked Amy
as he paused in front of the chair. “Too bad you couldn’t come fishing with us.
You should have seen the one Paulie caught.”
Amy smiled
slightly and closed her book. “I heard it was like this.” she said as she
spread her hands far apart. Frays stretched and rolled her head in a slow
circle, making the vertebrae in her neck pop and crack, sending a little shiver
down the woman’s spine. Adam looked guiltily at the floor for a second before
he brought his eyes back to Frays’ face. A little jittery tremor ran through
the woman’s body after she appeared to finish working the kinks out of her
neck. “Well, maybe next time.”
Lacey’s eyes
darted towards the kitchen again and he leaned in close and thought about
putting a hand on Frays’ shoulder until he remembered that his hands were
covered with fishy stench. “Hey, hon!” he called as he went towards the
kitchen. “Got the fish. Where do you want me to put it?”
Later that
evening Amy sat in the recliner, her stomach churned and bubbled as she watched
Frannie curled up on the hide-a-bed on the other side of the room. The Laceys
were in the back bedroom again, her brother snoring on the cot in the dining
room. “Can’t sleep either, kiddo?” George asked, frowning a little when he saw
his daughter jump at the sound of his voice. “Let’s talk outside on the deck.”
George helped
Amy up and with her arm around his waist they quietly tiptoed around the end of
the hide-a-bed and made their way outside. Frays grimaced as she settled into
one of the plastic deck chairs. It appeared that her feet were not healing as
quickly as she had hoped. The two of them sat quietly, looking up at the bright
white moon overhead and listening to the frogs down by the shoreline below. “Did
they ever tell you about the Highway of Death?” George asked quietly as he
reached inside his pocket and pulled out a pack of some off brand cigarettes.
To her surprise, he took one for himself then offered Amy the pack. Frays
hesitated and frowned then started to take one and hated herself, put it back.
How long did he
know that she smoked? It was not something she had done with any frequency. In
fact the only time she had smoked with any regularity was when she was overseas
and she had quit cold turkey while in Kuwait waiting for the plane to take them
back to the states. The last few weeks had been stressful enough to break down
her resolve and take the habit back up, at least for a little while…
George
lit his cigarette and exhaled a plume of smoke. “Saddam’s boys were beatin’
feet north back home out of Kuwait. We laid mines ahead of ‘em and came up
behind...you zoomies and the grunts and our fast movers just laid into ‘em.”
George said quietly. A faraway look came to the man’s face as he looked out
over the water and he shook his head, exhaling a plume of smoke. His mind
drifted back to that sandy bit of Hell on the other side of the world, when he
was still practically a kid not much older than his daughter when she had gone
to serve her country in that same godforsaken patch of earth. “We laid into ‘em
too, anything that tried to make a run for it, we just lit ‘em up…main guns and
crew serveds just rippin’ ‘em up…” he was quiet for a moment and Amy was
surprised to see a little, familiar tremble in her father’s hands as he brought
the cigarette up to his lips. “We rolled up after it was done” the man gave his
daughter a rueful, almost tearful smile “It was somethin’ to see… They like to
say that God’s everywhere. Well, I can think of one place He wasn’t.”
George was
surprised when his daughter suddenly dissolved into tears, hiding her face in
her hands and sobbing uncontrollably. Amy sniffed back snot and wiped her nose
on her sleeve. “I-I think I did a bad thing, Daddy.” she sobbed into the palms
of her hands as the man wrapped her up in a big bear hug. George picked his
daughter up out of her chair and sat down, holding her in his lap as if she
were a child again. “I think I did a bad thing. I…I-I didn’t wanna, b-but I…oh man,
Daddy I think I’m goin’ to Hell...” Frays lost herself in long choking sobs as her
father held her tightly to his chest. “I don’t…Daddy, I-I dunno…t-there was…just so much blood.”
George held his
daughter and ran a hand slowly up and down her back as he had done when she was
small…not that that had happened all that often. She had been a tough,
independent kind of a little girl. Heck, she had practically changed her own
diapers as a kid. He smiled a little and rested his chin on the young woman’s
shoulder. “It’s alright, kiddo.” he said quietly, still rubbing her back. “It’s
alright. Shhhh…it’s alright.” When the worst of it had passed George helped Amy
inside and got her back to the recliner.
“There we go,
kiddo.” he whispered as he unfolded an old, threadbare blanket he found behind
the chair and spread it over his daughter, drying her cheeks with one corner of
the worn fabric. “Just get a little rest.” Amy squirmed into the cushions of
the chair and smiled drowsily up at her father and nodded, already starting to
drop off to sleep.
Frannie had woken up when the door whooshed open
and George took his daughter outside. She rolled onto her side and watched
through the glass as Frays cried into her father’s shirt, a great big knot
twisting and rolling around in her stomach. Rodriguez curled into a ball on the
mattress. “Dumb mick.” she grumbled under her breath and wiped at her cheek
“Where are you when I need you?”
