The China Pandemic (8 page)

“Can’t you hear that, you dumbass?” Campos heard. Standing quietly still, he listened. Off in the distance, he heard something coming. Actually, he heard singing, though he couldn’t make out the words. Grabbing his rifle, which leaned against the doorjamb of the market, Campos headed in the direction of the disturbance. He could hear better without the crackle of the fire in the background. The closer he got, the more he heard and the little tune came in clearer.

“Who would be singing out here at night?” he asked.

“Someone about as crazy as you, I bet,” the voice said.

Campos learned long ago not to argue with the voices he heard, even though sometimes their remarks upset him. Usually, one of the other ones would argue for him.

As he got closer, he noticed that the sounds dissipated. Campos thought perhaps he’d only heard an animal, or two or more likely, whining or something, or his mind playing tricks on him again, which wasn’t unusual. Then he heard a low growl. Something or someone was definitely out there. He saw movement in the dark. He heard footsteps. He stopped beside a parked car, weapon lifted. There was danger ahead.

Peering toward the approaching footsteps, he made out the silhouette of a young lady coming his way in the moonlight. Squatting down, he planned to trail her for a few minutes to see where she headed and if anyone else tagged along.

As she got closer, he saw only a slight young lady looking worn out and a bit frightened by the darkness. She wore a light pink t-shirt and a matching pink drawstring backpack on her back. She held what looked like an ice scraper in her right hand. She moved it back and forth, as she swung her arms in an effort to climb up the incline.

At first sight, Campos supposed this young lady would be a good addition to his town. She looked determined and clean cut. Old enough to work, although right now she looked a bit cold as the breeze picked up her golden locks highlighted by the firelight, as she approached him unknowingly.

“Hi, miss,” Campos said as he stood abruptly from his hiding spot.

She screamed. It startled him. He jumped back as much as she did. He brought his rifle before him, but before Campos could ask her to quiet down, someone else ordered him, “Shut up!” Then he reached out with his unarmed hand and grabbed Marcy by her long hair, dragging her towards the fire bin.

She kicked and screamed, so he stopped for a minute and let go of her. He only did it for a second so he could get enough leverage to backhand her. He sent her sprawling down to the hard asphalt where her head bounced with a sickening thud. Then in the darkness, a dog barked and Campos knew he should get the girl inside in case the wild animals were coming. He slung the gun over his shoulder and reached down to lift her light frame. He carried her to safety within his home in the blue-framed house next to the gas station.

He didn’t know why she’d screamed like that. Campos knew young girls were often afraid of their own shadows so luckily she happened upon him, where he could keep her safe from the wild beasts just in time.

After bringing her into his tidy living room, he placed her carefully on the navy corduroy sofa. He noticed a trickling stream of blood coming from her lip and draining down to her chin. He thought it must have happened when she fainted.

He went to the kitchen to wet a clean towel and then gently mopped up the blood. He then applied pressure to her lip gently to stop the bleeding. He felt her icy cold hands, so he pulled the soft camel afghan down from the back of the couch and began covering her until he noticed she still wore the backpack. He lifted her head and gently removed the bag to place it next to her. He studied the girl as he tucked her in, her lovely innocence unmarred in the tremulous wake of the world at its end.
She’s just a child
, he thought and felt the weight of her life there with him.

Graham could only watch and listen as Campos startled the girl. He wasn’t surprised when he heard Campos’s voice change, even though it creeped him out. He began to slide out of his hiding place to intervene, but Bang grabbed him around the leg and buried his face in his side, trembling.

Then, he heard a loud smack and watched in horror as the girl’s head landed and bounced on the road right before him. Bang jerked and moved even closer to his side. He held the boy to quiet his movements on the graveled road.

Feeling absolutely at fault for not helping the girl to begin with, he cursed his stupid indecision. From underneath the truck, he could see the girl’s body in a heap on the ground. As Campos reached down, he feared he and Bang might be discovered. He truly felt like a coward and not at all worthy as his father’s son.

Once the dog started barking, he feared the other sister would come forward and engage the madman, too, but then he heard the dog and girl run off to the safety of the woods. He needed to find her. He could have made a difference in their survival, but he’d chosen to remain silent and now one of them was in grave danger while the other needed him more than ever. Surely she was scared out of her mind with her sister attacked and taken like that. Shame enveloped him as he pulled himself and Bang out from under the truck.

He looked again through the binoculars and watched Campos walk away, carrying the girl through the door of his house. At least he knew where she was. Quietly, he backed away with Bang and crept down the grassy slope to where the other one hid, hoping to find her.

Not trusting his back on the man, Graham took cover at the beginning of the tree line and watched as he closed the door. Once he found the other sister, he intended to wait till morning and rescue her twin.

Of course, now he needed to find shelter around here for the night. Bang pulled on Graham’s shirt for acknowledgement and Graham bent down on his level to hear him more closely. He noticed the kid had his fingers in his mouth again. “What is it, buddy?”

“I’m scared. Can we go now?” Bang whispered.

“I know you’re scared,” Graham said, rubbing the little guy’s shoulders. Then he took him into his arms and held him, hoping to dissipate some of the fear.

“I promised I’d take care of you and I will, okay? But one of those girls we saw earlier is hiding in the forest here very, very scared and she’s all alone now. I think we should find her. We might have to stay here overnight though, okay? What do you think? Should we go help her?” Graham asked him and held him out now to see his reaction.

“Sure, are we going to save the other one from the bad man?” Bang asked.

“I don’t know yet. We’ll have to figure that out after we find her sister first. I think she went off that way. I want you to stay close. The dog went with her and he might not be in a very good mood, but we can’t just leave her like this,” Graham said.

As he walked with Bang close behind him, he really felt the pressure of his own indecision. Holding his rifle out in front of him, he wasn’t surprised to see the little guy swallow his own fear and pull his bow and arrow out for defense.

“Be careful with that thing,” Graham reminded him. Bang nodded but continued to look into the dark forest beyond.

Their progress slowed through the brush. He tried to still their movements when they caused a rustle. They stopped often to listen to any clues to the distant sounds to see if they might be from a distraught young girl or wild predators.

Fifteen feet above, darkness cloaked the canopy of tree branches, permitting only narrow moonbeams to filter through, like a celestial mirage, casting sparse rays of blue light within. It would be almost impassible if it weren’t for the mercy of the moonlight, though even that made it difficult to see as the silver castings seemed to deepen the shadows.

Stopping every few steps, Graham raised his rifle and checked on Bang’s close proximity. They’d begun to anticipate one another’s movements in a rhythm of guarded devotion. One, two, three, four, stillness, silence, scanning, one two three, four… And so the two of them went through the forest.

Macy huddled against the damp fallen log with her arms wrapped tightly around her bent legs. With her new companion lying alert across her feet, she thought of the events that landed her in this current desperation. Had it not been for this dog before her, she too would be in the angry grasp of the stranger.

Macy felt all alone. She could only see puffs of steam coming from her friend as he panted and sniffed the air on occasion. “Oh, Marcy, I’m so sorry,” she sobbed, which distracted her companion from his vigilance. Trying to comfort her, he stretched around to lick the back of her hand. Macy tried to suppress her tears and the fear. Gripping the dog’s coarse fur, she buried her wet face into his bronze mat, taking what comfort it provided.

Moments later, a little calmer, she peeked out into the night. Every now and then, she heard the crunch of twigs or swooshing of leaves and distant hoots of owls. She trusted the proven senses of her companion so she continued to crouch in her spot and lamented the events that led her here.

Yesterday, her mother died, and likely, her father had died as well. She could feel it, even if Marcy didn’t want to believe it. Now her sister, whom she’d never been parted from, may also be dead.

Macy vowed that when the morning dawned, she would sneak around to her father’s apartment. She hoped her fear of his being dead was wrong and she could get his help to rescue Marcy. At the very least, she knew he had a hunting rifle hidden deep inside his walk-in closet. He’d showed her and Marcy how to use it last winter at her grandfather’s place.

Not certain she’d be able to pull the trigger to take a life, she thought she could if it meant saving Marcy’s life. She would never leave her here by herself with that man. Then, exhausted by the trauma of both today and yesterday, Macy fell asleep deep in the fur of the haven that Sheriff provided.

Making sure the girl still slept, Campos quietly left the house to close up town for the night. “Time to close up shop,” he said, only to himself.

He’d made good progress today after clearing out most of the contaminated food from the market. “One more day will do it,” he told himself. “With the girl’s help, it might go even faster if she works hard enough.”

Smiling to himself, he felt happy to have someone to take care of as long as she pulled her weight.
No slackers here
, he thought. She wasn’t as strong, not like the workforce of men he’d rather have, but at least he’d have someone to talk to about the events that happen in the day. Truth be told, he felt kind of lonely these days. Even though his father was never a nice sort, he missed him. Ben, the postman down at the post office, at least greeted him when he checked the mail every morning. He’d found old Ben slumped over his breakfast table at his home. He’d buried him and his wife in their backyard. Before that, Ben could be counted on to greet him every time he came into their shop. He’d always handed over the mail and stopped to chat a bit.

“I’ll have to come up with some chores for the girl. Jobs she can do to keep her busy,” Campos said to himself.

“I don’t like the little bitch,” replied another voice.

“She’s a darling girl and needs a home,” the she-voice insisted.

Getting angry now, he said under his breath, “You leave her alone, only I talk to her. I’m warning you all.” Campos stopped in mid-stride on his way to the fire pit, hoping he made himself clear to the others. He rarely even acknowledged them. He knew the voices contained within him could be a problem for the girl.

There were times he didn’t even remember. He feared those were times one of them took over. He would find himself in a different place with parts of the day missing. That happened with the whore woman and the man who begged. He knew he’d have to find his medication soon because the girl’s safety depended on it. Some of them were fine and friendly even, but one in particular scared him.

Pulling the makeshift barbed wire fence he’d rigged up along the open road, he closed up the front entrance. It wasn’t a surefire locking system but at least it kept the wild animals from wandering into town. When he’d walked outside a few days ago early in the morning, he’d found, out of his peripheral vision, a wolf standing sure as you please on the corner of the bank plaza. The wolf watched his every move, and then walked with those big pads of his off to the side. He finally disappeared between the buildings and into the brush.

From that point on, Campos decided at least to make a few fences that would dissuade the wild animals’ leisurely walk into town. In the morning, he opened them up again for anyone of the two-legged variety who wanted the option of staying or trading.

Walking to the other end of town for the back entrance, Campos stopped at the market parking lot. There he found the fire in the bin had died down from lack of fuel. He pushed the cart back into its line of brothers, turned off the lights, and closed the door he’d propped open earlier. Then, listening to the nightly insect noises and the rhythm of his own boot falls, as he walked to the darker back entrance, he secured up his town for the night.

~ ~ ~

With a bit more pep in his step than the days before, Campos thought how the events of the day had finally taken a turn for the better. He looked forward to tomorrow. He’d feed the girl some breakfast and then find her a better home to live in. Not too far away from him, in case she needed him, though. Perhaps the one next door where Mrs. Walker had lived.

She’d lived there with her daughter, who was not much older than this one. Maybe there were clothes about the same size for her there too. It’d be nice if he found her a mother and father as well. “Girls need their moms and dads more than boys do,” he decided.

Knowing the day was finally done and his nightly chores finished, Campos stopped at the gas station to lock up the doors in case someone tried to steal his fuel. Just as any night before, he stopped and looked up at the bright moon just across the tree line of the forest beyond. He listened intently as the silence begged for even the slightest sound to say he wasn’t alone. He heard nothing out of place, nothing out of the ordinary to cause him alarm. Only the crickets chirping, and an owl known to make his calls every night, echoed in the dark with a lonely hoot. On most nights, Campos felt akin to him.

Feeling secure, he accepted the yawn and soreness the day demanded. He ambled quietly over to his home and walked within. The girl lay unmoved from her last position. He felt her head for any fever, avoiding the bump that had risen on the side of her head. He watched her breathing and decided she just needed to sleep. Tucking one end of the loose cover in, he removed her shoes, placed them beside the couch, and went off to his room to close the day behind him while looking forward to the next.