Scavengers. Part 10

Dejah stepped out of the Cadillac. The wind of the morning and the warmth of the sun on her cheeks was just a cruel reminder that things would never be the same again. A hint of death on the wind was the smell of spoiled meat, of distant fires, of vanquished dreams. She took a deep breath and approached the Hummer. Shaun stepped out beside her, the duffel bag of water over his shoulder.

"Pull open the door," she said. She posed with the gun aimed at the front driver's seat.

Shaun reached up, intending to open the door and scramble clear. He pulled the handle. The car alarm went off. The grating sound was loud as an air raid siren. It shrieked in their ears and just about made Dejah p.i.s.s her pants. Her heart raced like crazy, and she ran around to her side of the Cadillac. The alarm would alert the infected. Those infected would bring more and that was more than she could take right now. She couldn't take a fight, a battle; she was at her wit's end, and- -before she got into the car, the Hummer's alarm gave two quick beeps and went off. Silence reigned, seemingly louder than the alarm had been. She caught her breath and looked around. Her eyes wide, her finger gripped the trigger of the revolver.

"Get in the car." Shaun hissed.

But she froze, because she saw the shape of a man in the window of Bocadomart. She couldn't make out his features. He was a black silhouette beyond the bars. But he stood there, looking out at them. In his arms was a rifle. Pointed right at her.

"Stop right there," she heard the man say. She trembled, the open air at her back, potential zombie attack coming any moment. She started to speak.

"Don't move a G.o.dd.a.m.n inch," he barked again.

This time, he obviously meant it.

CHAPTER 16.

Dejah felt her pulse pounding in her throat. She didn't dare look at Shaun, but she could see him in the periphery of her vision, frozen, like her, hands half in the air.

"L-look, mister..." Shaun stammered.

"Y'all don't look like the d.a.m.n Sickies," the old man said. He'd opened the front door and they could see he was white-haired, weathered, skinny, and armed with a big rifle. "What the h.e.l.l are you two doing out wandering around these parts? Don't you know those Sickies are out there?"

Dejah started to say something, but the man cut her off.

"Get yer dumb a.s.ses in the store. Now!" The old guy turned around and grasped the door handle. The expression on his face stated quite clearly he was giving them about five seconds to comply and then the door would be slammed shut whether they made it inside or not.

Dejah looked at Shaun, and they ducked inside the sanctuary of the Bocadomart.

After some awkward introductions and his new visitors took in their surroundings, Frank listened to Dejah's story, and Shaun followed with his tragic tale. Frank grunted and nodded, adding some profanity to the discussion about the new kind of h.e.l.l life had devolved into. But, for now, there was plenty to eat and drink here, and Shaun welcomed running water and plumbing again. They spent most of the day recovering.

Shaun washed as well as he could using the sink and a beach towel. Frank found him a Corona t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants to put on, while Dejah insisted on washing his socks and letting them drip dry over the towel bar. He wore some cheap, yellow rubber flip-flops, also blazoned with the Corona brand, while his socks dried.

Frank wasn't overly forthcoming sharing his own story, but after Dejah and Shaun had been there for a few hours, Dejah began to pry it out of him and d.a.m.ned if she hadn't charmed him soft. He told bits and pieces of the events leading up to their chance meeting. He didn't say it, but the fact was, Dejah reminded Frank of his daughter, Holly. He grew quiet as thoughts of his daughter made him wonder if the infection had spread to the west coast. Holly was in Oregon. If it were Holly out there trying to get away from the insanity of the infection, he hoped someone would show her some kindness. Helping Dejah and Shaun was his way of paying forward, hoping Karma would provide for his girl.

"Do you have children?" Dejah asked him. Frank came out of his reverie.

"What's that?"

"Do you have children?"

Frank nodded, smiling. "I was just thinking of my daughter. She's quite a bit older than you. I've got three grandchildren too. All teenagers. Lord, help their mother."

"She live close?"

Frank shook his head. "Nope. Up in Oregon. Hopefully, they've contained this infection business to Texas. I don't know what's going on. Haven't heard any news for a few days now. Can't get any radio or television."

"Us either," Dejah said. "You think the infection has spread nationwide?"

"No way to say, really." Frank took a swig of his beer. "Let's hope not."

Shaun thumbed through a crossword puzzle magazine. He looked up from his spot on the floor. "You got a pen around here?"

"Ah, you found one in English. Good for you. Let me see...." Frank looked around the cash register. He grasped the blue plastic pen hooked to a silver ball chain glued to the counter and gave it a hard yank. The pen and chain broke free. Frank tossed it to Shaun.

Shaun laughed. "Thanks."

"Sure." Frank grinned.

They turned in early. Dejah and Shaun slept because they were exhausted. Frank stayed up a bit longer, drinking another beer, relishing the taste of it on his tongue. He regarded the weapon on the floor next to him, thought back to his days in Korea, but shut down those memories, because they couldn't be trusted anymore, and even if they could, he didn't want to go there.

Some things never go away, he thought. They just rattle around like pebbles in a plastic tire till the wheel stops turning and you're all done. Well, maybe I don't have much longer to go, but I sure as h.e.l.l ain't gonna take it lying down.

Leaning back on the blow-up Corona chair, he took the last swallow of beer and closed his eyes.

When they woke up Sunday, Dejah started formulating a plan like some kind of G.o.dd.a.m.n new-age Rommel.

"Why would you want to go and leave the Bocadomart, girl? We're safe in here. There's food, water, plumbing, electricity. Way I figure, we might even be able to ride out the sickness in here until the government sends some sort of help for the uninfected," Frank said from his vinyl chair in the corner.

"What makes you think the government will send help?" Shaun asked, genuinely curious.

Dejah looked at Frank. "That's a good question. Especially to Bocadomart."

"Well, why wouldn't they? If we're immune to the illness, we're not going to spread it to anyone. I'd imagine some sort of special team would be sent to round up all the Sickies and corral them somewhere for scientific purposes."

"That's optimistic," Dejah said. "But, I don't have time to sit around and hope the federal government comes up with a plan. You saw how the plan went during Hurricane Katrina. Thanks, but no thanks."

Frank shrugged. "Well, I think it's foolish to leave the store before we need to. But, I can't stop you or the boy from going if that's what you want to do."

Shaun stopped working his puzzle. "She has to get to her daughter, Mr. Baum."

"I understand that. I'm just not sure it's the best idea to leave right now. You've said yourself that your little girl is safe with her father and grandparents. Seems to make more sense for you to stay safe, too, until the time comes when y'all can be reunited without such risk."

"I don't know if she's safe," Dejah said. "The last time I spoke with my husband was last Monday morning. He and Selah were turned away by the military at a roadblock. Last I heard they were headed back to his parents' house."

"Greenville's not that big of a town," Frank said. "I'm sure they made it safely back."

"I don't know that for certain."

"Okay, well, say you and Shaun go on and start for Greenville. Are you going to just continue to car-hop the way you did to get here?" Frank asked.

"I don't see any other options, so, yeah, that's the plan. We need a big vehicle capable of moving smaller cars out of the way and durable enough to survive driving over medians and through ditches. We thought about a Semi, but I can't handle that much vehicle and it would be too big. Not to mention the gas situation." Dejah munched on a microwave burrito as she spoke.

"That's why we stopped for the Hummer," Shaun interjected.

"Hummer ain't leaving without me," Frank said.

Dejah nodded. "That's right. And we wouldn't dream of leaving you behind. We need your expertise. You know the roads in this area better than I do. My guess is you've got more than enough fire and nails left in you to make it through this alive. You're not doing anything but waiting to die, sitting here."

Shaun laughed. "You've got enough ammo and guns back in the storage room to reenact the Alamo."

"I hit a sporting goods store on my way through town, after I stopped off at the Hummer dealership," Frank said with a wry smile. He paused and studied Dejah. d.a.m.n determined woman, he thought. "I got all the gas out of those cars out there." Frank thumbed toward the parking lot. "Figured I'd siphon it off before one of those d.a.m.n Sickies found a way to drive or set things on fire."

"I'm just asking you to think about it. We could use your help." Dejah got up to throw the burrito wrapper in the trashcan.

"Why don't you go on and leave the boy here with me. Be safer. No sense risking him on your suicide mission."

"I go where Dejah goes," Shaun said.

Frank frowned. "What do you know? You're a kid."

"He's been through a lot, Frank." Dejah came to Shaun's defense. "We've all been through a G.o.dd.a.m.n lot."

Frank got out of his chair and reached into the shelf behind the busted plastic for a new pack of cigarettes. With a tired look, he lit one and wandered over to the magazines to smoke. The smoke tasted good. Penetrated deep, curled in blue whorls around his head. He squinted and watched them drift to the ceiling. Felt the nicotine hit his blood, surge his pulse, and give him a nice little calming buzz while he mulled it all over. After a few minutes, he said: "You try calling your husband lately?"

"Called from the phone by the register about fifteen minutes ago. No answer."

"Did you get a tone?"

"Yeah, but no ringing on the other end. Just a d.a.m.n busy signal." Dejah picked at a thread on her sleeve. Her brow furrowed with deep lines over troubled eyes.

"That's all I get too." Frank took another drag from the cigarette.

"Come with us, Frank," Dejah said, a pleading tone in her voice. "We need you. You're not doing anyone any good holed-up here. We both know the government is going to let this s.h.i.t run its course and that could be for who-knows-how-long." She threw up her hands in exasperation.

"You really think they'll just lock down the state lines and leave us to the Sickies?" Shaun asked, fear edging into his voice. Frank smiled sadly at Shaun's adoption of his phrase.

Dejah took a deep breath. "Yeah. Yeah, I do."

"That sucks."

Frank laughed. "Ain't that the truth, son. But, ain't that the U.S. gov'ment?" He crushed his cigarette on the counter top and dropped the b.u.t.t in an empty fruit can on top of the trashcan. "Well, kiddies, I'm an old man, and old men take naps. So I'll be in the back if you need me."

Frank had only been napping a few minutes while Dejah was staring at the wall, a soap opera magazine, in Spanish, open in her lap. She'd been looking at the photos, but nothing would deter her thoughts from Selah. Suddenly the distance between here and Greenville seemed very far indeed. Too many miles, too many obstacles, no way to get through on the phone. She was totally isolated from her little girl, unable to quell the visions of potential horror. The snap flash memory of Carrie Revis, face slick with her father's blood came back to her time and again. She shook her head and closed her eyes, remembering back, years ago, to when she still could hold Selah in her arms, cradle her as a toddler, seeing her shining eyes and crinkled b.u.t.ton nose as she laughed in her memory. It was bittersweet. She'd always feared losing her daughter it was the most dreadful fear lurking in the back of every parent's mind. And now, not knowing anything was ripping her up inside. The distance yet to travel seemed so much greater than ever before.

She recognized the feeling as creeping hopelessness. It edged around her resolve, seeped in through the cracks in her determination.

Shaun grunted something in incoherent adolescent speak, working his crossword puzzle. "What's a three letter word for noise?"

"Hmm?"

"Three letter word for noise?"

"Uhm-din."

"Thanks, teach."

"Hey, Shaun?"

"What?"

"You think we should leave soon? Or do you think Frank's right? That we should stay here and wait it out?"

Shaun stopped writing. "Well, you want to get to Selah, right?"

"More than anything."

"Well, I don't know ... I mean, it's not easy out there, and not safe, we know that. But what are the choices, right? Stay here and wait on something that might never happen, or make something happen ourselves. I guess it's like, if I knew I had anyone left ..." Shaun's eyes misted with tears, but his voice was even when he continued, "I'd want to get to them, no matter what."

Dejah wiped tears from her eyes. "No matter what," she said with a note of deep weariness.

You can't lose hope, now. You keep it burning. Keep it alive. As long as you can draw breath, there's always hope.

"I think we should talk to Frank one more time when he wakes up and, no matter what he says, we should go tomorrow night. It's nice to have food and drinks, but I can't stay holed up in here much longer before I start going crazy."

Dejah rubbed her eyes with her hands. "Maybe he'll change his mind."

"Maybe. He seems like he's going a little crazy here by himself, too, and he wants to find out about his own daughter. He can't get any info locked in here."

"Yeah." Dejah got up to get a soda. "Want something?"

"Hand me one of those lemonades, please?"

"Such good manners," Dejah said with a laugh and tossed him a lemonade.

"Yeah, well, since the old man is gone, I'm gonna sit in his chair." Shaun stood, stretched, went behind the counter, and plopped down in Frank's cat hair covered seat.

Dejah turned on the television, trying in vain to pick up a channel. Shaun propped his leg up on the chair edge and used his thigh as a desk, continuing his puzzle. He listened as Dejah fiddled with the dial, and then he listened to something else.

"Dejah?"

"Hmm?"

"You hear that?" Shaun sat frozen in the chair.