Tammy and Ringo (14 page)

He made it to the hole and very carefully moved the tiny pieces of hay from around it so he wouldn't knock them through and call attention to himself. Peering down into the barn, he tried to see what was happening.

Movement caught his eye and he stopped, trying to get a good look at what was happening. Suddenly the top of a man's head came into view. Long, dirty hair tied back in a ponytail. As the man moved a step or two further on, he could see it was a pretty good sized old boy with a tee shirt and overalls. A beard was visible from one side but Ringo couldn't get a look at his face.

Barn owner? Farmer? Traveler looking to get out of the rain and somewhere safe? Ringo had no way to know and elected to stay quiet for the moment.

“Get up, bitch,” the man suddenly growled, his voice low but carrying now that Ringo was closer. Ringo heard a reply that he couldn't quite make out, though it sounded like a woman.

“I said get up!” the man ordered, louder this time, punctuating the order with movement. Ringo saw him lean into a stall, arm extended. When he pulled back he was dragging a woman by the arm. The part of her face Ringo could see was smudged with dirt, and her clothes were torn. Not yet to the point of exposure, but looking at the way the man treated her coupled with the fact that her hands appeared to be bound behind her, Ringo decided that point probably wasn't far off.

She wasn't a small woman, he noticed, which meant that the guy was stronger than he looked. The woman wasn't really fat, she was just. . .well, a big girl. She wasn't exactly attractive in her present state, though Ringo allowed she might be in another setting. Clearly this guy wasn't interested in what she looked like.

“Go ahead and yell,” the man told her as she struggled. “No one around to hear you, no way. And if you bring one o' them down on us, I'll leave ya here for 'em and head out myself. We'll see if you like their company more's ya do mine, how 'bout that?”

Ringo had seen enough by now to know that he'd have to do something. He could never justify lying here and allowing this thug to hurt a woman. Of course he wouldn't be able to do much else for her considering his own problems, but he could at least get her free of this hoodlum. Ringo eased the suppressed pistol Hiram had given him from its holster and checked the safety. He knew there was a round chambered. He eased the tip of the suppressor into the hole, and waited.

“You and me, we'll just hang out here a little while, get to know each other better,” he heard the man say. The woman's reply was muffled and Ringo couldn't make it out. He was pretty sure it wasn't agreement, though. He waited for the man to move back his way, but after a minute or two, that hadn't happened. Reluctant to move, Ringo was about to do just that when suddenly the man moved almost directly beneath him.

“It ain't like you got a lotta choice, here, sweetums,” the man was saying. Ringo aimed carefully and his finger tensed on the trigger.

“Fact is, you should be thankin' me, since I'm keepin' ya safe,” the man told his captive. “I figure I got some kind o' pay comin' for that. Only right, wouldn't you sa--”

The shot surprised him, just as it should have. The bullet went into the top of the man's head and seemed to have gone through since Ringo could see blood shoot from the bottom of the man's chin, or so it appeared.

He could hear the woman scream, again muffled, and realized that she must be gagged. Not to mention scared out of her mind. Ringo watched for a minute longer, making sure the man had been alone. When no one else appeared, he moved to his hay block and moved them out of the way. He stuck his head through the hole then drew it back, taking a quick look around. Nothing. Satisfied that maybe no one was waiting to ambush him Ringo eased himself down the ladder.

Lying in a stall out of sight of his peep hole, the woman was struggling to get to her feet, eyes wild with fear, tears flowing, nose running and her mouth sealed with what looked like a bandanna held in place with duct tape. Ringo held his hand up slowly and stood still, trying not to look threatening. He realized he was still holding his pistol and quickly tucked it into his waistband after making sure it was on safe.

“Lady, easy now,” he said gently. “You're okay. Just take it easy a minute please and let me untie you, all right?” The woman screamed into her gag and tried to move away from him but without the use of her hands she couldn't get very far.

Ringo slowly took a small knife from his pocket and pulled her arm toward him. She fought him the whole way and he tried not to hurt her. Finally he got a look at her hands and realized they were tied with binder's twine, a cord used by farmers and craftsmen. He also saw that they were tied far too tightly and the circulation in her hands had to be cut off.

“Easy lady, and let me cut that line, all right?” he asked. The woman redoubled her efforts to free herself from his grasp.

“Lady, listen!” Ringo hissed. “He's tied you tight and the line is cutting into your skin. It's cut off the blood to your hands, understand? If I don't get this loose, it could hurt you a lot worse, okay? Let me cut it. I can't do that with you jerking around because I might cut you by accident. Now please, hold still, just for a minute. All I want to do is free you.”

The woman suddenly went limp, sobbing into the hay she was lying on. Ringo felt sympathy for her, knowing she had to be terrified. He gently cut the twine holding her hands together and then stepped back from her, giving her room. She watched him for a second, then groaned into the gag as she pulled her hands from behind her back. Ringo guessed she must have been tied that way for a while. There was a small trickle of blood where the twine had cut into her skin, but her fingers appeared to be working so maybe the circulation hadn't been hurt after all.

It took her a moment working with her numb hands to remove the tape, but Ringo let her do it rather than get close to her again. She finally managed to get the tape off, and ripped the bandanna from her mouth, spitting the taste of the dirty rag out. She looked at Ringo. With the immediate danger passed, the woman's fear seemed to have been replaced with a haughty expression that was completely out of place given her circumstance.

“Who are you?” she almost demanded.

“Uh, I'm nobody special,” Ringo replied. “I’m just trying to stay out of the rain. You and your friend woke me.”

“He's not my friend!” the woman almost yelled and Ringo put a finger to his lips to try and quieten her.

“Let's not make too much noise, okay?” he said gently. “Noise draws them.”

“Don't tell me to be quiet!” the woman snapped. “I asked who you were!”

“I'm the guy who just helped you,” Ringo said evenly. He knew she was scared, or should be, but that was no reason to be ugly to him was it?

His answer did seem to calm her, though, and she had the good manners to appear embarrassed. She mumbled an apology, getting shakily to her feet.

“Where's your car?” she asked. “I have to get to town and report this.”

“I don't have a car, ma'am,” he told her. “Don't know how to drive.”

“What?” the woman looked stunned. “No car? How did you get here?”

“I walked, ma'am,” Ringo replied evenly. “Like I said, I don't know how to drive.”

“But I have to get to town!” the woman protested.

“I can't help you with that, ma'am,” Ringo told her. “Sorry.”

“What are you even doing here?” the woman demanded. Again.

“I'm hiding from crazy people and trying to stay dry,” Ringo answered. Again.

“And you just happened to pick this barn?” the woman asked suspiciously.

“Well, it looked dry and no one was around,” Ringo shrugged. “Isolated seems a good thing right now.”

“Well, I need you to take me to town, so get your car,” she ordered. Ringo just looked at her for a moment. Was she in shock? Or maybe she just wasn't listening?

“Ma'am,” he said finally, “I've already told you, I got no car. I've never owned a car and never drove one. I walk everywhere I go. I can't take you to town because I don't have a car. How did he get you here?” Ringo asked, nodding to the dead man.

“His truck, but it's out of gas,” she answered. “That's why I need your car.” Ringo fought the urge to shake his head in defeat. Hello, Earth to lady, come in lady.

“I. Don't. Have. One.” Ringo said slowly. “I really don't.”

“Everyone has a car for God's sake!” the woman snapped.

“Not me, lady,” Ringo abandoned his polite address. “Can't drive. Never learned how. You might try that house up there,” he pointed. “Don't think anyone is around, but there might be a car.”

“I guess you've already been up there?” the woman almost sneered. “Take whatever you could carry?”

Ringo's face froze at that, a mask falling into place. Without a word he turned away and grabbed the ladder.

“Where are you going?” the woman demanded.

“Back where I came from,” Ringo said, climbing the ladder. “I was trying to sleep when you and your boyfriend woke me.”

“I told you. . .he wasn't my boyfriend!” the woman screeched. Ringo stopped and looked around at her.

“If you keep screeching like that, you're going to draw infected down on you. When that happens, you'll be sorry. At least for as long as it takes them to kill you or infect you. Better get that mouth under control if you want to make it.” With that he kept climbing.

“Come back here!” she ordered. “I need your help!”

“Should have thought of that before you accused me of being a thief,” Ringo told her without turning around. “I helped you all I'm going to lady. Good luck to you and please get the hell away from here with that yelling, okay?”

The woman was about to reply when she heard a screech in the distance. Ringo hurried the rest of the way up the ladder and started closing the hole off.

“What was that?” he heard her call.

“The infected,” Ringo told her as he finished shutting off the hole. “And thanks to you, they know where I am. If I was you I'd start running, lady. They'll be looking for you.”

“Let me up there with you!” she shouted and Ringo could only shake his head as he heard another infected shriek.

“That's not going to happen, lady,” he told her flatly. “You'll just get me and the cat killed with that mouth of yours. Now you better head out and do it quick because they usually run to noise and you're making plenty of it.”

“I demand you let me up there!” she yelled. “I'm the Circuit Court Clerk!”

“Don't care if you are,” Ringo said softly. “They'll get you just as quick. Now you better hurry. They'll be on their way. If you can't get into the house then I'd just start running. You might make it.”

“I'll see you in jail for this!” she threatened.

“Not if you don't start moving, you won't,” Ringo told her, then decided not to answer her anymore. No sense in attracting them to his own presence. Below the woman claiming to be the Circuit Court Clerk finally realized the danger she was in and took off running for the house, still cursing as she did so.

“You'll pay for this!” he heard her shout and heard at least two infected answer her.

“I doubt it,” Ringo muttered. He made sure he was secure and then went belly down at the loft door to see what he could see.

The last view he had of the erstwhile Court Clerk was her running down the driveway after failing to get into the house. She was still shouting.

Two infected followed her.

Ringo waited thirty minutes, watching all the time. He saw no more infected and heard nothing. Finding himself in the clear, he packed his gear and cleaned his mess. He needed to find another place to hide. This one had just become untenable.

Five minutes later the barn lay behind him as Ringo made his way through the woods in search of new shelter. His last thought as he headed out was that he would miss the cat.

CHAPTER TWELVE

Ringo made pretty good time, wanting to put some distance between himself and the barn. Mentally he cursed the woman and her loud mouth along with the man who'd brought her there. The last thing Ringo had done before leaving was drag the dead thug outside and away from the barn. There was no sense in letting him ruin the little building.

He had covered most of a mile when he stopped to get a breath and listen. He couldn't hear any screeching or yelling. In fact he couldn't hear anything at the moment. The rain was keeping animal life under cover. It was eerily quiet and Ringo felt a shiver through his spine. He wrote it off to being damp, but deep down he knew better. This whole thing was creepy.

He found a dryish place under a fir tree and pulled out his map, trying to shield it with his body to keep it mostly dry. He wished for a moment that he could just head for Hiram's place. If he pushed it and didn't have any trouble, he could probably be there just after dark. Sighing, he shook the idea away. He couldn't do that and time spent thinking on it was just wasted.

He put the map away, satisfied that he knew roughly where he was. He knew there were other houses in the area  but he'd already decided houses were off limits. They might be empty now, but the owners could be on their way home even as he went inside. Not a good situation. No, he'd find another barn, or failing that a shed. If he had to, he'd find a sheltered place to go head down and huddle under his poncho, but that was a last resort. It would likely be cool tonight and he needed a place he could dry off and maybe use his small stove. Outside wasn't that place.

Shrugging his pack straps higher on his shoulders, Ringo set out again, eyes open for anything that looked like it might provide him shelter and safety for the next two days.

*****

Doctor Baxter met the helicopter on the pad above the complex. An assistant took the samples and hurried below with them while Baxter waited for the men from the retrieval team. The team leader, a large man with crew cut white hair, stepped to her upon seeing her waiting. He would have been handsome, she thought, if not for the scar that marred the right side of his face. It ran from his forehead down the length of his face, disappearing beneath his shirt. Whatever had made that scar had taken his right eye along the way, a patch now covering the empty socket.

“Doctor?” Williams asked. “Something you need?”

“I don't suppose you were able to find the boy,” she asked. Williams shook his head.

“Long gone. No sign of him at all.”

“I was hoping to get him into quarantine,” she sighed. “It would be nice to have a live specimen to study.”

“You don't know for sure he's infected,” Williams shrugged. “No sense going to that trouble without knowing, is there?”

“We could always infect him ourselves if he failed to show symptoms,” Baxter's voice was detached, clinical.

“That's not really something I'd want to be part of, Doctor,” Williams told her. “Our mission is to find a cure, if there is one. Not to make things worse by infecting healthy people.”

“Many distasteful things are done in the name of science,” Baxter waved the complaint away. “And it would serve that Colonel right, having the nerve to threaten me.”

“What Colonel?” Williams asked.

“The man who set this up,” Baxter told him. “Apparently he knows you,” she added, remembering that part of their conversation. “Calls himself the Goblin, and said to tell you he sends his-- what?” Baxter cut herself off seeing the look on Williams' face. “You recognize that name?”

“I'll give you one thing, Doctor,” Williams said evenly, shaking his head slowly. “When you make enemies, you don't mess about. You just go out and make the worst one possible right off the bat.”

“What's that mean?” she asked, concern showing on her face.

“What did he tell you?” Williams asked instead of answering.

“He said that if anything happened to that boy he'd make me beg for death, or something like that,” she tried to wave it off.

“Listen, lady,” Williams voice was suddenly harsh. “That man is dangerous. If he met the devil on the sidewalk, the devil would step aside and let him pass, understand? If he said he'd kill you, that is exactly what he meant. I've never known him to make threats, just promises. And he's kept every promise he's ever made.”

“I don't appreciate you trying to put me in his sights either, while we're just talking. He'd kill me as quick as he would you and yes, I know him. Knew him,, anyway, a long time ago. Best thing you can do is forget him and that boy, understand? And if you put me in a position opposite him again, I'll kill you myself. I'd rather face an army of your creations than face that man alone and I'm in no way exaggerating. Put me in that place again and you'll be riding this out alone because my men and I are history.”

With that the large merc grabbed his gear, shouted orders to his men, and disappeared down the stairs. Baxter watched him depart, wondering what kind of man could have that impact on Williams, a man she would have sworn was afraid of nothing.

Perhaps it was better that Just Ringo was still free after all.

*****

Tammy and Helen fixed supper in silence, each occupied with her own thoughts. Even the meal itself was subdued with little more than simple pleasantries passed between the three. Tammy cleared the table afterward and cleaned the kitchen while Helen washed and dried the dishes. Chores finished, the women were somewhat at loose ends and took seats at the table again, talking quietly.

“He's listening to the radio,” Helen sighed, looking through the door toward the small room that Hiram used for his radio room. “Marking that map and making notes. He just can't let go of who he was.”

“Who he still is,” Tammy observed just as softly. “You can't stop being a soldier, Helen. Not after that long. My father's been a soldier since he was old enough to serve and he doesn't know anything else. I doubt he could do anything else, in all honesty. Him or his friends.” Helen was pleased to hear Tammy speak of her father in the present tense, but didn't mention it.

“Oh, I know that, dear,” she replied instead. “Don't misunderstand me. I'm not fussing so much as simply worrying. Hiram looks at this as some kind of personal challenge and he's just not as young as he once was. We're not old as such, mind you,” she added primly. “But we certainly aren't children, either. And don't let his grumbling fool you, either. Hiram is in excellent condition, especially for a man his age. But this is too big for him to get involved in and he knows it.”

“If he were still active, he would be in the middle of this, I'm sure,” Helen continued after a pause. “I don't know exactly what he did when he was away but I do know that for most of his later years in the service he wasn't part of an active field unit. He doesn't think I know that, of course, but you can't hide much from Army wives. You would think soldiers would realize that at some point, but they never do,” she sighed theatrically.

“Lucinda used to say the same thing,” Tammy nodded, smiling at the memory. “Lucinda was the woman who looked after me when my father was deployed,” she explained at Helen's look. “My mother died when I was still a baby, not quite four, and Lucinda Steele, the wife of one of my father's friends, looked after me when he was away. She was sort of a surrogate mother,” she smiled.

“Bless her heart,” Helen smiled. “When we lived on-base I would do that kind of thing for younger officers, especially those who had young wives that worked or where going to school. I know that not everyone is like that, but most of the people I knew when Hiram was in the Army pulled together like that in times of need. It was almost like having a very large extended family.”

“Sounds like me,” Tammy nodded. “I don't know how many 'aunts' and 'uncles' I had,” she laughed. “Someone was always dropping by to see if we needed anything or how we were doing. I miss it,” Tammy admitted. “It was one of the hardest things I've ever done, leaving home to go to school. If I hadn't, I'd still be there,” she added softly.

“Dear, if you hadn't then you might be in dire straits right now, too,” Helen reminded her. “Remember what your father said about losing contact with Bragg. That's not something that happens, Tammy, regardless of what novels say. Base communications are very secure.”

“I know,” Tammy nodded absently. “And truth is I couldn't have landed anywhere better than right here,” she looked up, smiling at Helen. “I can't thank you enough for how you've taken me in, Helen.”

“It's been my pleasure, dear.”

*****

Ringo was crouched low in the fading light, watching for signs of life. He had traveled maybe two miles from the Cat Barn as he'd taken to calling it and he was soaked to the bone. While it wasn't full dark, it was close and the light was fading fast. The last thing he wanted to do was use a light.

Sitting maybe fifty yards ahead of him was a small house that looked deserted. From this distance it didn't look like it was in the best state of repair, but he couldn't tell for sure and even the binoculars weren't much help in the low light. He considered his options for a moment, slim though they were. He took a few seconds, more to curse the dead thug and loud mouthed woman who had cost him the Cat Barn with its warm hay bed, then shook the thought away.

He could either move in toward the house, hoping it was empty and could serve as a place to dry out and warm up, or he could spend a miserable night in the woods huddled under a poncho. When he thought about spending the night like that even a possible confrontation with infected looked better.

He wiped a hand down his face to clear away the water, knowing that it wouldn't really help. He was cold, wet and thoroughly miserable. If he didn't get out of this weather soon, he'd have a fever whether he was infected or not.

And wouldn't that be some shit? he thought to himself. Die of the flu or pneumonia before I get a chance to die of rabies or whatever? He shook his head at the irony of it.

And then he started for the house.

He moved carefully, aware that he couldn't see very well. It was still too light out to use the night gear Hiram had given him, but dark enough that he had a hard time seeing clearly. All he needed was to trip on something or step on a nail.

And then die of tetanus instead of pneumonia or super rabies, he thought sourly. This day has really sucked.

He reached the house without any disaster befalling him and breathed a shallow sigh of relief. He edged his way to the corner to peer around into the front. No car or other vehicle of any kind. The grass in the yard hadn't been cut either. Returning to the back of the house, he tried the door, surprised to find it open. He was instantly on guard. There was just no way that this was a good sign. He wasn't having that kind of day.

Drawing his pistol, Ringo cautiously made his way inside, careful to allow his eyes to adjust as much as possible to the darkness. Very little light was able to penetrate the curtains, however, and Ringo finally resorted to a small but powerful flashlight, its beam cutting through the house like a laser.

The house was neat and uncluttered. It had very little furniture and only a few decorations of any kind. He noticed a collection of fishing gear filling one wall along with an empty gun rack. He finally put two and two together; this was a weekend place for someone. That's why it looked deserted.

He continued his search of the house making sure he was well and truly alone. Satisfied that he was the only occupant, Ringo secured the rear door. He checked the front, finding it locked, then checked the windows. All were intact and locked from the inside.

He allowed himself to relax just the tiniest bit. He walked into the single bedroom and hit the light switch. The light came on just like it was supposed to. Off to the left was a bathroom. Ringo considered his situation for about ten seconds before he started stripping out of his wet clothes. He returned to the kitchen long enough to secure a chair from the table, then returned to the bedroom, closing the door. The door had a lock, he was glad to see and he threw the bolt before shoving the back of the chair under the knob to secure it further.

Two minutes later he was in the shower, allowing warm water to run over him. He leaned over against the wall as the water warmed him, resting for a moment. He knew he was taking a chance doing this, but he needed to be warm. Being clean and dry would just be a bonus. He scrubbed himself vigorously, remembering his hurried creek bath only this morning after the incident. He stayed in the shower until the water began to run cold then shut it off and toweled dry.

He had one remaining suit of clothes in his pack which he donned with his hair still wet. He took his wet clothes and rung them out in the tub, then hung them on the shower rod to hopefully drip dry. That done, Ringo unblocked the door and eased into the living area once more. There was no television but there was a stereo. He turned the radio on but found nothing but static and a religious station that was warning everyone this was the End Times. Apparently the people who owned this place used the CD player and not the radio.

He went into the kitchen and looked around. As he'd expected, he found no food other than a few canned goods. Leaving food in a place that wasn't always occupied was a good way to attract vermin. He examined the cans but decided to stick with his own food instead. He was not really hungry, but knowing he should eat a bite, Ringo took one of the ration bars and slowly munched on it as he consulted his map and GPS unit. Slowly he worked out where he was and nodded to himself. Despite the urgency of his departure from the Cat Barn he had moved more or less in the right direction. He was still several miles from Hiram's place but that was fine.