DEAD (Book 12): End (39 page)

If what these people say is true…then perhaps I should re-think my views on some sort of divine being. This is a job that I would never have been able to take were it not for my new soldiers of justice. Hey…that is sorta catchy. Maybe that will be our new moniker.

Seriously though, this is not a one-person job, so I don’t know what these people were thinking. I guess they have heard a few over-embellished recountings of my exploits and think I am some sort of action figure or superhero.

Entry One Hundred and One—

We leave at first light. I am feeling a lot of conflicting emotions right now. This is the first time I will not be working alone. There is something strange about being responsible for the safety as well as the actions of others. Is this what generals feel like when they commit troops to battle? Of course, the big difference is that I will be right there with my soldiers.

Oh, that reminds me, the group voted and it now looks like we will forever be known as “The Soldiers of Justice” from here on. I also asked the group if they had a problem with me keeping an active journal of our jobs. I felt I owed it to them to ask since Glick discovered exactly how I was tracked and discovered.

I have been keeping a journal since shortly after I lost my family. I also tend to lose those journals on a regular basis much like I used to lose my car keys and my wallet. The only thing different is that I never actually searched for my journals when I lost them. I was really just writing things down to help me process events in my head. If I lost a journal, I would eventually start up another one.

Anyway, I guess some of my journals have been found. One of them was copied and added to a community library down south near what used to be Salem, Oregon. Supposedly, a trader bought a copy and it ended up in a small town near what was once Havre, Montana.

Long story short, somebody decided to see if I was real and asked around. When it was more or less confirmed, they sent this delegation to come find me. There is a community about fifty miles east of Havre that operates in a massive slave circuit. We will certainly have our work cut out for us.

Anyway, I asked the group if they were okay with me keeping a journal and they all said yes on the condition that they were allowed to read it. Since it is not like I use my journal to jot down fantasies or anything weird like that, I told them I was fine with it.

Who knows…maybe I will write the first best-selling novel of the New World. I guess we will have to wait and see.

17

The Geek’s Wife Finds Peace

Catie stared up at the dull, off-white ceiling. Another jolt of pain shot through her and she clenched her teeth, sucking in a harsh breath. A cool hand gripped hers and she rolled her head to the left to see a face just a few inches from her own.

“You need to breathe, child,” a raspy voice ordered.

“Then you need to give me room,” Catie snapped back.

“Just a little more, Catie,” a voice called from between her legs. “I can see the head.”

Catie didn’t want to push. She just wanted this to be over and for that gigantic monstrosity to be out of her womb. It felt as if it were tearing her apart. She pondered very briefly which hurt more; being torn apart and eaten alive by the undead or being torn apart as a child emerged from a place many times smaller than the head that was supposedly almost out of her if she could believe the doctor.

There was a strange sensation that was painful, but almost like a sense of relief as the child completed its journey and exited her. In that instant, all the pain washed away and she felt nothing but a sense of overwhelming joy at the sound of her new child crying as it drew its first breath.

“Is it a boy or a girl?” Catie gasped.

“Now I think it is a little early to start imposing roles on it, don’t you?” the doctor said in a horrible attempt at a British accent. Catie glared and the man’s smile vanished. “Sorry…always wanted to say that. Um…ahem…anyways, it’s a boy.”

“Bet I don’t need to ask whatchoo gonna name him,” Abagail snorted as she accepted the child from the midwife and handed him to Catie.

“You would be correct,” Catie sighed as she snuggled the child close and kissed it on the forehead.

“Kevin Michael Dreon,” Catie whispered to the child.

“Look how fast he went for that booby,” Abagail hooted. “Told ya getting that poison outta yer system would do the baby good. That child is healthy as can be.”

Catie had no idea if what the old woman said was true or not. Still, she knew that the day she spent with the kind old woman had done a lot to cleanse her soul. She had told all about meeting Kevin and their journey. She talked about things she had never said to anybody before about her past. She talked about Kevin’s death. She described every detail that had been burned into her mind’s eye.

She had cried…and cried. There was a point where she did not know if she would be able to stop. But she did. In the end, she was able to breathe again and while she felt raw, and tired, and wrung out…she also felt as if she had just sweated out a terrible fever or had something poisonous extracted from her body. That night was the first she could remember since Kevin’s death that she slept all the way through and actually felt rested the next day.

***

Catie walked outside. The clouds of yesterday were gone. The sun shone brightly, reflecting off the clear water of the Tennessee River. Glancing up the hill to her left, she watched as fifty men and women were returning from a day out in the fields. It was almost harvest time and everybody’s spirits were high with the anticipation of what was going to be an amazing crop.

“Kevin!” Catie called.

“What, mama?” a young voice answered from some of the tall bushes that grew along the fence to a modest front yard sporting three rows of corn and a wall of tomato vines that were awash with clusters of the bright red globes ready for picking.

“You are supposed to be getting washed up and ready to go, I have to be out on the wall in an hour and Granny Abagail won’t be happy if you show up and track your dirt and mud on her floors.” Catie pulled her belt on and cinched it securely at her waist. The variety of weapons hanging from it all looked worn but well-kept and cared for.

A little boy emerged from the bushes, a smear of dirt on his face that no simple saliva-and-thumb washing would be able to clean away. Catie pressed her lips tight and swallowed the laugh that would burst forth if she did not. It would severely undermine her authority and scolding if she were laughing through the entire ordeal.

“What on earth are you doing, young man?” Striding across the yard, she came to stand over the boy with her hands planted on her hips, one foot tapping mutely in the grass that was a few days past needing to be cut.

“Digging,” the youth answered simply.

“Digging what?” Catie said, just a hint of agitation in her voice. She’d had to almost beg to be given a wall post and being late for a shift was a good way to be removed. The general rule was that single parents were kept on interior duty. She just could not see working in the jail around idiots or in some other job that would suck the joy of living from her in daily gulps.

“A hole, mama,” the boy answered as if that had been perfectly obvious.

Catie opened her mouth and snapped it shut just as quickly. The boy was staring up at her, and in that moment, with the sun on his face at just that angle, she saw his father.

Instead of scolding him, Catie knelt and opened her arms. The little boy walked forward, pausing twice to look around as if he suspected a trap.

“Hey, Dreon!” a voice shouted. Catie looked up from the hug to see four men headed her way in wall security uniforms.

The young men who had become known as the Beastie Boys were now a very experienced group of scouts and fighters. Braden was still the
de facto
leader and was showing some premature gray that had earned him the nickname of “Gramps” by the others. Louis was still Luigi and no longer bristled at the nickname; in fact, he’d gone so far as to grow out a thick, bushy mustache. Mario, in keeping with the theme had done likewise. Chuck had taken a different route. His hair had begun to thin, so he shaved it off one day. Ever since then, he kept a belt knife handy…and razor sharp.

“Beasties!” little Kevin squealed, writhing to free himself from his mother’s hug.

“Hey, little man,” Braden reached down and caught the boy under the arms, hoisting him up and over the fence. “You aren’t going to Granny Abagail’s with that dirt all over you, are you?”

“No,” the boy giggled. “Mama will clean me up first.”

“Your mama ain’t got time, child,” another voice piped up. An elderly lady elbowed her way through and put out her arms to accept the suddenly solemn five-year-old from Braden. “And you won’t be stepping foot in my house looking like something the dog tried to bury.”

Catie opened the gate to let Granny Abagail through. The woman set the boy down as she entered and Catie marveled at how effortlessly somebody so seemingly frail could just tote around her son like that without showing even the slightest hint of strain.

“I’m so sorry, Granny Abagail,” Catie gushed. “Kalisha and Caleb had to leave early for school and I forgot to get Kevin ready.”

The woman made a dismissive wave and scooted Catie out before closing the gate. “Pshaw, now get moving before you end up losing that job you fought so hard to get. Jess might be your friend, but when it comes to running a tight ship, she is still about as much of a hard ass as they come. She won’t be seen as playing favorites, and being late is her biggest pet peeve.”

Catie took a step and then spun back. “Kevin!”

The little boy stopped, already halfway to the front door. Suddenly his face lit up and he sprinted back to the fence. Reaching up on his tiptoes, he planted a kiss on his mother’s cheek where she had been tapping. As soon as he pulled away, she grabbed him and planted a noisy smooch on his lips and then set the boy down where he started sputtering and making exaggerated wiping motions on his face with his hands which now only added to the dirty smudges.

“Gross!” the little boy complained, although the laughter in his voice contradicted his attempted exclamation of disgust.

“Love you, buddy,” Catie called over her shoulder as she and the four men headed for the thirty foot high wall that could be seen over the rooftops of the neat rows of cabin homes and shops.

“Love you, mama,” the little voice called back.

18

All Grown Up

“This is extraordinary,” Dr. Zahn said, tapping my journal for emphasis. “If I were to hear some of these accounts from the odd passing merchant, I would dismiss it as a bunch of claptrap nonsense.”

“I still have trouble believing a lot of it myself,” I admitted.

“Personally, I’m trying to forget as much of it as possible,” Jim grumbled and then winced, taking a deep hissing breath between his teeth. “Ow!” he yelped.

“Oh hush, you big baby,” Dr. Cynthia Byrd admonished as she looked up from suturing Jim’s forearm.

“I am going to want to keep this for a few days,” Dr. Zahn said as she opened the book again and seemed to scan a few pages before closing it once more and setting it to the side.

I was actually a little surprised. I just assumed that she would want to keep the notes for an indefinite period of time if not permanently.

“You seem puzzled,” Dr. Zahn said with as much of a smile as she is capable.

“I just wasn’t sure I’d get those back.” I made a slight nod of my head to the journal.

“Thalia,” she sighed and sat back in her chair, pausing as Jim let out another hiss of pain. “Dear, the notes are yours. I simply wish to use them in the hopes that we might find something that will help us understand how to best deal with these…creatures.”

The door to Dr. Zahn’s office opened and Billy’s silhouette filled the frame, but it was quickly displaced as a voice practically squealed, “Thalia!”

Stevie exploded into the room shoving Billy aside and rushing to me with arms wide open. His hug was fierce and I had to wedge my arms in between his to get him to loosen up so I could breathe.

“You act like I’ve been gone for a year,” I said with a smile.

“It seems like it,” he chirped. “So, did you bring me something back from the field?”

I smiled and opened the pouch on my hip. I fumbled around until I felt the tattered piece of cardboard with the little plastic bubble.

“Close your eyes,” I insisted. As soon as Stevie’s eyes were closed I pulled out my prize and pressed it into his open hands. “Okay, go ahead.”

That had been a needless suggestion. As soon as I’d placed his surprise in his eager hands, he’d opened his eyes. There was a silence in the room and I noticed all the adults craning their necks to try and get a look at what I’d given Stevie.

“What is it?” he breathed.

I could see the wonder and awe on his face. I know he had a general idea what it was, but it was just different and foreign enough that he actually must have felt compelled to ask. The problem was, I knew basically what it was as well, but I could not offer anything specific or concrete. Fortunately, Billy stepped forward.

“That looks like an F/A 18 Hornet,” Billy said. He extended a hand and Stevie reluctantly handed it over, moving with it as if he feared losing proximity would cause him to also lose his new toy.

“Lemme see,” Jim called from the table where he sat as Cynthia finished tying off her stitches.

Billy walked over and showed the man who took it, gave it a quick inspection, and then nodded his confirmation. “Ayuh, that’s what it is. Where’d you find this, cupcake?”

“It was on the floor at the end of one of the aisles,” I explained. “It was partially under the overhanging lip of the bottom shelf. It must have been catching the light just right or something.”

Billy handed the toy back to Stevie who held it now more like it was some fragile egg shell that could shatter if touched improperly or even breathed on. He made his way back to me, eyes never drifting away from his present.

“I think we have had enough excitement for today,” Dr. Zahn announced as if concluding some sort of gathering. “If you all could make your way home, and Cynthia, if you could take Stevie back and help him grab his things, I imagine he would like to sleep in his own bed tonight now that Thalia is home for a while.”

I winced when she said the ‘for a while’ bit only because I did not want to take even a fraction of that smile off of Stevie’s face at the moment. I was surprised when he barely even looked up and said goodbye to me as Cynthia steered him out of the room by the shoulders.

“William, if you and Thalia would stay for a moment.” It was not a request, much like many of the things that came out of Dr. Zahn’s mouth.

Jim paused to hug me as he exited. “You did a helluva job out there, cupcake.” He kissed me on the forehead and left the room, closing the door behind him.

“I want a team assembled and put at Thalia’s disposal within the week,” Dr. Zahn said as she sat back down behind her desk.

“A team?” Billy and I both blurted simultaneously.

“What you have managed to gather in these notes is nothing short of remarkable. However, you and Mr. Sagar also nearly did not make it back.”

“We had it under control,” I mumbled. The look I received from Dr. Zahn told me that she was not convinced.

“So you are sending her back out?” Billy asked, sounding almost as confused as I felt.

“Not tomorrow,” Dr. Zahn waved his comment away with a frown. “But I do believe that this young lady has a knack for observational study. It would do us all a great bit of good if she continued to use those talents. No telling when we might find that one thing that leads us to being able to rid ourselves of these abominations once and for all.”

The two continued to go around and around about the merits versus the dangers, but my mental replay kept fixating on how Dr. Zahn had just called me a young lady. It was not in that way she had of using it when she was dressing me down for screwing up. No, this was said in the sense that she saw me as something more than just a child.

Eventually Billy realized that the doc was not going to be swayed in her opinion and agreed to start assembling the best security detail he could muster from our security personnel. He got up to leave, but before he did, he paused and looked at me as if perhaps appraising my worth.

“I’ll make sure Jim is on the detail,” he said. “Also, it looks like Paula is going to recover fully, so as soon as she is able, I will assign her as well. If you think of anybody else, stop in and let me know.”

Billy left and I turned back to face Dr. Zahn. She was actually smiling again. I wanted to squirm in my seat or say something to end the silence and the discomfort that was creeping into my belly as my nerves started to tingle.

“How is Melissa?” I asked, suddenly aware that she had not come up at all either by me, Stevie, or anybody else since Jim and I had returned.

“She is going to need to stay with Sunshine. That seems to keep her calm and she is less confused. There is nothing that we can do for her except give her love, patience, and understanding.”

“And Stevie?”

“He will have to be your responsibility, I’m afraid.”

“I can handle it. But what about these field missions? What happens to him then?” I asked.

“He will stay with me or Cynthia. He is a strong little boy and will be just fine. I will limit your excursions until he has had a chance to adjust.”

“How does a person adjust to something like that?”

“With your love, support, and help,” Dr. Zahn said in a very matter-of-fact tone. “I have no doubts or worries that he will flourish under your care. You’ve grown up into quite an amazing young lady, Thalia,” Dr. Zahn said as she leaned back in her chair and steepled her fingers in front of her face for a moment as if that helped her study me just a bit more closely. “Steve would be very proud of you.”

That was it. The tears welled up in my eyes and everything went blurry. I brushed them away, and as I did, I saw Dr. Zahn dab at the corner of one of her own eyes.

“He loved you like you were his own,” the doc said in the softest, most gentle voice I’d ever heard from her. “I wish he could see the amazing person you have become.”

She reached into her desk and pulled out a ragged looking notebook. She pushed it across her desk to me.

I stared at it, not sure of what to do.

“Steve started this just after he broke his leg shortly after we arrived here. You were very young,” Dr. Zahn’s voice took on a faraway quality as if she might be sinking into a warm, wonderful memory.

An image flashed and I couldn’t help but smile. “Emily and I were given the job of walking him around the cabin,” I said as I recalled those days so long ago. The images were dim and they almost felt as if they belonged to somebody else and I was simply being given a glimpse.

I opened the book and read the first words scrawled on the page:

I ain’t no hero. I never thought of being one. When I was young, I didn’t dream about being a police or fireman. I never considered joining the military, even after 9-11 when so many others my age flocked to the recruiter’s office.

Hell, I was the guy who picked a desk in the middle of the classroom on the first day of school when all the Brains rushed for front row seats and the Jocks and Stoners roamed to the back. I didn’t play sports, at least not in any organized way. When sides were chosen (even if it was just a pick-up game with my buddies), I was pointed out someplace in the middle. Sometimes I would pull off a play in football, basketball, kickball…whatever, which was only amazing because it was me doing it.

I had my share of girlfriends. I lost my virginity my senior year. On prom night. To a girl who played flute in the high school marching band. Her name was Kerri or Kathy…or Kari or Cathy.

So you’re starting to get the point. Right?

I closed the book and looked up to see Dr. Zahn regarding me. This time she did not bother to dab at the tears leaking from her eyes.