The Quest: Countdown to Armageddon: Book 6 (12 page)

     When she saw Tom, she reached up to her face to brush a few stray hairs from upon it. Her face went from suspicious to friendly.

     Sara had to stifle a smile.

     “Well hello, handsome stranger. Are you here to trade?”

     “No, ma’am. We’re here for some information. We’re looking for a woman named Stacey, who used to live a couple of houses up from you. We’re wondering if you’ve seen her.”

     “Nope. I think she done kilt herself. The cops came and pulled two bodies from that house a few months back. Said it was a double suicide. Ain’t seen anyone else there since then.”

     “That wasn’t her, ma’am. It was some friends of hers. If she comes by would you tell her that her daughter is looking for her, and she should contact the Chief of Police?”

     Instead of agreeing to the request, the woman eyed Sara and turned suspicious again.

     “This young‘un… she yore wife?”

     “No. She’s Stacy’s daughter and my friend.”

     “You sure you don’t want to trade, mister? I’ve got some things around here that need fixin.’ It’ll take you a couple of days but I can pay you in corn and ‘maters.”

     “No, thank you, ma’am. We’d best be moving on. You be sure and give Stacy that message if you see her now.”

     They turned to leave. The woman huffed and went back into her house.

     As they walked away Tom remarked, “Boy, I hope everyone else is friendlier than she was.”

     Sara’s jaw dropped. She was amazed that Tom hadn’t seen the same things that she did.

     “Oh, she would have been
very
friendly to you, Tom, if you’d have let her. Didn’t you see the hunger in her eyes?”

     “Oh, shut up.”

     “No, I’m serious. I think I know what it is that she wanted you to fix for her, and I’m pretty sure it had nothing to do with the house.”

     Then Sara smiled.

     “It’s a good thing I’m not that crazy about corn and tomatoes, Tom. I’d have pimped you out in a heartbeat. You’d better hope we don’t come across another lonely woman with strawberries growing in her yard. I’ll rent you out for a bushel an hour.”

     “It’s a good thing you’re too old to spank, young lady.”

     Sara laughed.

     “Why, Tom, you should be happy. I’m sure there are lots of men out there who would just love to be rented out for stud services.”

     “Yeah, well I ain’t no bull and I ain’t interested.”

     Sara continued to giggle until they got to the next house. Then their luck changed a bit.

     “Sure, I remember you. My son Toby, God rest his soul, had a class with you. Science, I think. He had a crush on you, and I told him he should ask you out, but he said you were a private person and kept mostly to yourself at school. I’d see you and your mom unloading groceries sometimes.”

     “Oh, my God. I’m sorry to hear about Toby. Was it the plague?”

     “No, it was in the early days of the blackout. He went out one night to get a case of water from the 7-Eleven and never came back. The police found his body a couple of days later. They said somebody probably shot him for the water. They were nice enough to bring his body back, and we buried him in the back yard.”

     Sara was unsure what else to say, so she repeated her words.

     “I’m so sorry.”

     “I saw your mom occasionally until about eight, maybe ten months ago. She came around sometimes to barter for food. Then one day she stopped coming. Never said where she was going. There was another couple staying at your place after that. Squatters, I guess. I haven’t seen them in a while, either.”

     “I see. Thank you so much for your time, Mrs. Roman. You’ve been a great help.”

     “No problem, dearie. I hope you find her. It’s nice when a story has a happy ending every once in a while.”

     Then, as Sara and Tom were halfway to the next house, the woman called after them.

     “You know, you might try your old high school.”

     Sara stopped short and turned.

     “The high school? But why?”

     “I heard a rumor that a couple of hundred folks took refuge there. That was back when the marauders were coming through and shooting people at random. Folks banded together at the school for their mutual protection. Made the classrooms into apartments and posted armed guards at the doors and such.

     “I heard it works like a commune. They all share the workload and grow their own food and such. Maybe she went there. Or maybe somebody there knows where she went off to.”

     Tom whispered, “Bingo! A lead!”

     Sara called behind her, “Thanks again, Mrs. Roman.”

-23-

     The last time Sara had walked the hallways of John Jay High School was over three years before, on the day of the blackout.

     Sara had been sitting in the band and orchestra room when the lights flickered and went out.

     The teacher had opened the fire doors at the back of the room to let in a bit more light, then told his young charges to sit quietly at their desks until the power was restored.

     It was through the open door that Sara saw her boyfriend Jordan hurrying to his car.

     She could tell by his demeanor that something was wrong. He would never skip school in the middle of a school day, power outage or not.

     She ran out the door after him and confronted him in the parking lot.

     That’s when he told her that the power was out for good. And that the world was now a changed and more dangerous place.

     The memory brought a stab of pain to Sara’s heart for a couple of reasons. First, because Jordan would have left her behind had she not seen him and gone after him.

     And second, that was the day Sara had lied to him for the very first time in their two year relationship.

     Jordan later apologized for almost leaving her behind, saying he was confident that her parents would come for her and protect her, and that he would have gotten in touch with her as soon as it was practical.

     Sara, in turn, apologized to him for lying. She’d begged to go with him, saying her parents were out of state and that she was terrified to be alone.

     Jordan didn’t find out until later that Sara saw the blackout as the perfect chance to run from an abusive family life.

     As Sara and Tom signed in at the main door and were referred by an armed guard to the attendant’s office, Sara looked around at the school she’d once loved.

     It was mostly the same. But at the same time somehow different.

     The lockers lining the hallways had been totally destroyed, their doors pried off and hauled off to God only knew where.

     She supposed it was done by vandals hoping to find bagged lunches or snacks in the abandoned lockers.

     In the main lobby of the building, a magnificent twelve foot high mustang, the school mascot, still reared up on his back legs.

     The bronze statue, painted pure white in Sara’s memory, was now a rainbow of colors.

     One of the old school’s new residents, a famous local graffiti artist, painted the horse from head to toe. His artwork was in essence a mural, depicting the horrors of the blackout and its aftermath. To depict the horrific early days of the crisis, the artist painted funeral pyres, stacks of bodies, and angry citizens.

     Then he painted scenes of hope and promise, depicted in flowing green crops of corn and wheat and dancing children.

     “You know,” Sara said, “At one time I would have been angry that someone would deface the mighty John Jay mustang. But I have to admit, this is pretty. I think I like it better this way.”

     “We plan to leave it that way to educate future generations. Those who weren’t here for the actual event.”

     Sara and Tom turned to see a middle aged woman walking toward them.

     Sara recognized her.

     “Mrs. Avila! You survived!”

     The women hugged.

     “I thought that was you when I saw you walk in, Sara. It’s so nice to see you again. Is this your father?”

     Sara chuckled.

     “No, this is my friend Tom. Tom is the sheriff of Kerr County. Tom, this is my old principal, Mrs. Kathy Avila.”

     “I prefer
former
principal, dear.”

     “Oops. Sorry.”

     Avila shook Tom’s hand, then asked Sara, “So what brings you here? Do you want to join our little community, or are you just visiting to see how much the school has changed?”

     “Actually, we’re hoping to find information about my mom. We lost touch right after the blackout, and she’s out there somewhere looking for me. And we’re looking for her too.”

     “I see. Same last name as yours?”

     “No. Her last name is McAllister. Stacey McAllister. She’s thirty five now, blond hair. About a hundred and twenty pounds or so, the last time I saw her.”

     Avila thought for a moment.

     “Doesn’t sound familiar at all. Let me check our rolls, just to make sure.”

     Sara and Tom followed her back to her office, where she scanned three logbooks full of names.

     “I’m sorry, sweetheart. We have no McAllisters at all. The only Stacey we have is Stacey Martinez, and she doesn’t fit the description. She’s pushing seventy.”

     Her voice changed to a conspiratory whisper.

     “But don’t tell her I said that. She wants everyone to believe she’s in her early fifties.”

     Sara was disappointed, but not overly so. She’d already taught herself to remain guarded and not to get her hopes up.

     “Thank you anyway, Mrs. Avila.”

     “Please, dear. The days of this being a high school are long gone now. So are your years as a student. You’re all grown up now. Please call me Kathy.”

     “Yes, ma’am. Can you suggest anywhere else we can look?”

     “As a matter of fact, I do. In the old gymnasium is a huge bulletin board that covers almost half the west wall. People have been posting messages for loved ones since the first days of the blackout. If she came by here looking for you, she might have posted a note for you there.

     “If you can’t find anything there, there’s a community locator service at the old library. Do you know where that is?”

     “No, ma’am.”

     “It’s the Zavala Branch, behind the old Dairy Queen. Now it operates as a community center. They will have you register, and will check your name to see if anyone has left you any messages. Then you can write out your own messages to your mother and anyone else you want by name. They’ll file them in the event the people you’re looking for ever come in. It’s a pretty good system that has helped reunite many loved ones.”

     “Thank you so much. You’ve been a big help.”

     “I’ve only been a help if you find her. And I hope you do. I love to see families brought back together again. Come, now. I’m headed that way anyway, I’ll walk you to the gym.”

-24-

     While Sara and Tom searched through the thousands of messages in the old gym looking for one with Sara’s name on it, Scarlett and Rhett were sitting under an apple tree on Baker Street.

     Sharing an intimate moment.

     Rhett was sitting in the grass behind Scarlett, his legs wrapped around her body and overlapping her own.

     Scarlett’s head was leaned forward, her chin resting on her chest. Her eyes were closed and she moaned softly, enjoying the sensation of Rhett running his fingers through her flowing red hair.

     “Baby, if you want to do that for the rest of our natural lives, I won’t mind.”

     Rhett smiled.

     “Do we get to stop occasionally to eat and drink?”

     “Nope. No breaks at all.”

     “Then our natural lives may not be very long.”

     She thought for a moment.

     “Okay. Five minutes per day. You’ll have to eat and drink quickly.”

     “What if I need to stop occasionally to sleep?”