Red the First (3 page)

She wagged her tail, but a questioning
look lingered in her dark eyes as if she sensed this walk served a
different purpose than their previous strolls. They worked their
way through Brookhaven Estates, while Zena explored the bases of
trees and shrubs. Red looked around as she sniffed a
hydrant.

Grass was knee high everywhere. Fierce
storms had torn off shingles from the roofs and dropped trees.
Windows were broken. Tree limbs were scattered everywhere. With no
one to tidy up, the ugly got uglier every time he went
out.

Kay would have been livid to see the
neighborhood in such a state. Appearances had always been important
to her. She and the kids had died in the early stages of the
plague. In hindsight, that was a good thing, because unlike later
victims, his family had had the dignity of medical care and drugs
to ease their suffering.

By the end, hospitals were overrun and
the staff was dying off as fast as the patients. Knowing he’d
provided proper funerals for Kay and his children gave Red solace.
Red knew from scavenging the stately homes of Brookhaven that a lot
of people had been denied that luxury. The forgotten corpses of
entire families were rotting behind closed doors. The thought made
his skin creep, so he forced his mind to more pleasant subjects
like food. The idea of fresh produce made his mouth water. He hoped
to meet a survivor with gardening know-how.

In some ways the pandemic had liberated
him, showed him what mattered and what didn’t. Before the plague,
he had been against all processed food. No red meat or white flour
entered his digestive tract. A bag of chips was a sin. His cupboard
had been full of things such as flaxseed oil and vegetable-based
protein drinks. He never used a germ-infested public drinking
fountain and avoided public restrooms. If a jug of juice had
expired the day before, never would it pass his pristine lips, but
the post-plague Red didn’t sweat the small things. If it tasted
okay, then it was okay to eat. Death was preferable to life as it
was now anyway—so what did he care?

Perhaps the dreams were part of the
changes he felt within. Once or twice a week, he floated off into a
world in which the earth tilted and nature gave birth to new
creation. Survivors sought one another out, sharing what they had,
helping one another to make peace with the world. The vision was so
vivid he wondered if it held a message about the future. He had
tried to squash the seed of hope it gave him, but that seed had
sprouted into a sapling. If he were smart, he’d uproot it before it
became an entire tree.

Chapter 5

Red planned his route to ensure that
he’d pass the only other inhabited home in the neighborhood.
Sixty-year-old Mrs. Jenkins was homesteading there with
thirty-year-old Elizabeth Wilder and an eight-year-old boy named
Michael Penn. None of them were originally from the neighborhood,
but they’d somehow come together after the plague, and once upon a
time it had seemed like a good idea to join them.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Jenkins turned out
to the bossiest woman he had ever met. Adding to the charm was
Elizabeth’s constant crying. More disturbing yet was the boy’s
incessant rocking back and forth. The only time he stopped rocking
was to wrap his arms around Zena’s furry neck where he’d sob
himself to sleep. Zena didn’t seem to mind; she missed kids, and
Michael was the only one available.

Unable to stand the nagging, the crying
or the rocking for one more day, late one evening, Red sneaked out
of the house like a criminal and returned to his own place, leaving
the two women and the boy to fend for themselves. That was two
months ago and he hadn’t spoken to any of them since. Red felt
ashamed whenever he thought about what he’d done. Today he planned
to inform them about his move out of the neighborhood, telling them
to pay him a call if they ever needed anything, but the truth was
that it wasn’t out of any sense of altruism. He simply yearned to
have his departure acknowledged. Red stopped the wagon in the
street, debating if he should disturb them or simply go on his
way.

Mrs. Jenkins’ two-story home was long
and wide. Six grand pillars held up the roof over the front porch.
The shrubs were nicely pruned. That kind of stuff mattered to Mrs.
Jenkins. She was a stickler about tidiness and had treated him like
the hired help—expecting him to be the handyman, landscaper,
painter, and water boy.

The old woman acted as if men were made
of stone. They weren’t supposed to hurt, cry, or have feelings. She
didn’t seem to notice or care that he was in deep mourning, too. He
tried to gather the courage to approach the front door, but the
memory of how he had abandoned them stood in his way.

Zena’s ears perked straight up when the
front door swung open. She stiffened and a growl began in her
throat but it transformed into an eager whine. A gaunt boy with
straggly blond hair burst onto the porch.

“
Zena!” the boy cried,
running down the sidewalk with arms wide open.

Red squinted, wondering if this excited
boy could possibly be Michael. The kid had never uttered a single
word during the two weeks he had known him.

Zena’s eyes lit in recognition. Her
tail wagged furiously as she braced herself for the reunion with
Michael, as the boy flung himself around her muscular neck. Red
looked down at her with a half-raised eyebrow, wondering if she was
okay with all of this. Her big wet tongue slid across Michael’s
cheek again and again. Apparently, yes.

Elizabeth came out the front door and
walked down the driveway with hands shoved deep into her jeans
pockets. Her angular face showed traces of Asian ancestry. A
glittery comb held back her silky black hair. She had full lips the
color of red wine, which offset a smooth porcelain complexion. Red
wondered why he hadn’t noticed how attractive she was before. Maybe
because it was the first time he’d seen her without bloodshot eyes
or a puffy face from all the crying.

She stopped at the curb about ten feet
from where he stood, biting her lower lip, surveying the contents
of the wagon.

“
What are you doing with all
of that stuff?” she asked casually.

“
I’m moving to a smaller
place.”

She traced an invisible arc on the
ground with the toe of her sneaker. “Michael and I were thinking
about moving someplace smaller ourselves.”

Michael stated bluntly, “Mrs. Jenkins
died last week.”

Even though he had admired the strength
she had showed in adversity, the news of the older woman’s death
barely stirred his blood. Red had seen so much death, felt so much
pain, he’d gone numb inside. Personally, he wouldn’t miss the old
lady much, but Elizabeth and the boy wouldn’t have survived without
her. Who would be responsible for them now? He certainly didn’t
want the job.

“
I-I’m sorry,” he murmured,
unable to look at either of them.

“
Please, Mr. Wakeland,” she
said. “Take us with you.”

“
I don’t think that would be
a good idea.”

“
I don’t want to be alone
anymore.”

Her dark eyes searched his face, but he
didn’t want to give her any sign of encouragement. He purposely met
her hopeful gaze with a blank stare.

“
Can’t we go with you and
Zena?” Michael pleaded. “I don’t eat much.”

The boy’s presence was a reminder of
the children he had lost, like a knife twisting in his gut, but at
the moment Zena was running happy circles around Michael’s legs.
She paused to nuzzle his pockets, which he had filled with cat food
treats. Michael scooped some out, and held it on open palm while
she ate. When she finished, Michael knelt on one knee, hugging her
with all his might.

Zena was big enough to take it and
looked up at Red with a glint in her eye. If dogs could speak,
she’d ask
Hey, Dad; look what I found! Can we keep him?
Her
tail wagged in ‘bull in a china shop’ sweeps.

“
You’d prefer to be all
alone rather than put up with us?” Elizabeth asked testily. “Are we
really that bad?”

“
No. It’s just that I may
not be coming back.”

“
This place has no hold on
us,” Elizabeth said. “So we’d be fine not coming back to
it.”

“
We already tried living
together once, but it didn’t work out.”

“
I know my crying annoyed
you,” she said without apology. “But the well of tears has run dry.
And Michael’s beginning to adjust—he only does the rocking thing
just before bed.”

“
But…”

“
If you’re waiting to find
companions without baggage, you’re dumber than you look. Anyone
that’s lived through the plague has seen terrible things. We’re all
messed up. And just so you know, you weren’t exactly the ideal
roommate. You scream weird shit in your sleep, scaring the rest of
us half to death, and you act like a big grumpy ass half of the
time.”

“
Nuh-uh.”

“
Yuh-huh,” Michael chimed
in.

“
Who asked you,
runt?”

“
You’re doing it right now,”
Elizabeth said.

“
Doing what?”

“
Acting like a big grumpy
ass. You also smell like a wet dog.” She cupped a hand to her
mouth, whispering aside, but plenty loud enough for everyone to
hear. “No offense, Zena. We’d be lucky if Red smelled half as good
as you.”

“
If I’m so loud, mean and
stinky,” Red raised his voice, feeling highly offended, “Why do you
even want to come with me?”

“
That’s a good question,”
she said, glancing back up at the house, then muttering at the
ground. “Maybe I don’t.”

Michael grabbed a wad of Red’s shirt.
“Puh-leez, Mr. Wakeland! I promise to be good. And I’ll try not to
rock back and forth anymore. And if you want, I can wash Zena every
day, and give her walks, and brush her hair!”

“
Okay,” Red snarled, cursing
his bleeding heart. “Get your stuff, but don’t expect me to carry
anything for you.”

The pair raced to the house. A few
minutes later, they came around from the back with two shopping
carts full of belongings. Michael had several large coffee cans
filled to the rim with jewelry. Not the imitation stuff, but
engagement rings, necklaces worthy of the most blowsy of Cartier
and Tiffany’s creations, loose gems glittering red and green, blue
and purple, Rolexes, and tennis bracelets loaded with diamonds.
Even a tiara.

“
Holy crap, kid,” Red said,
raising his brow. “Did you rob a jewelry store or what?”

“
It never hurts to plan for
the future,” Michael said, holding one of the containers
defensively against his chest.

“
I guess not,” Red
laughed.

The three of them looked like vagrants,
pushing and pulling everything they owned down the street. Together
they went shopping for new real estate.

Chapter 6

“
I know where we should go,”
Michael said.

“
Oh, you do?” Red raised an
eyebrow.

“
Sure. My granny gave me the
address.”

Elizabeth replied gently, “Sweetie,
your granny is with your mom and dad.”

“
I know that,” he said,
annoyed. “She’s dead, they’re all dead, but they talk to me in my
dreams.” He pointed north. “It’s near a forgotten little farm town,
kind of off by itself in a field. There’s a fireplace that burns
real wood and a well with a hand pump that still works.”

Red exchanged a doubtful glance with
Elizabeth, who shrugged.

Not having a destination in mind, nor
even a vague direction, Michael’s suggestion at least gave them a
place to start.

“
I’m all yours, boy. Lead
on.”

They hadn’t been walking long when a
pack of dogs emerged through a hedge of boxwoods. Elizabeth pulled
Michael into a protective hug, eyes wide, unsure what to
do.

“
Get behind me,” Red ordered
Elizabeth. She pulled Michael with her and did as told. Red removed
his gun from its shoulder holster and aimed at the lead dog, a
Doberman who was sniffing the air and licking his chops.

The Doberman stood its ground, growing
deep in the back of its throat. Among the pack was a variety of
breeds, including standard poodles, fur now roped into dreadlocks,
golden retrievers, mongrels and even a couple of small Schnauzers
and a Yorkie. Some were still wearing their collars and owner’s ID
tags. Pets that had once had their meals handed to them on a plate
now had to learn to fend for themselves like every other survivor.
Zena stepped in front of Red, ruff bristling. The pack hesitated
until the Doberman lunged straight for her. The two rolled around
in the street in a frightening frenzy of barking and flying
fur.

Michael held his ears and screamed at
the top of his lungs, “Zena!”

“
Don’t let her die like
everything else in Michael’s life!” Elizabeth screamed.

“
I might hit Zena,” Red
yelled back. “And gunshots might attract the human gangs I’ve seen
out here!”