The Flu 2: Healing (13 page)

“That’s if those 149 rebels show up. Our last report there were some kids taken by them.” Lars said. “Really, they may have taken the supply information and are using it for their own benefit. Sure doesn’t sound to me like they’re team players.”

“Ha!” Tom coughed. “No one is a team player. What gives this commander and base camp the right to come and steal from our warehouse?”

Nelson appeared humbled. “Begging your pardon sir, but whose warehouse was it? Who gave you the right to all that food? Would you feel the same way if it was the government?”

“Yep.” Tom nodded. “I would. We laid squatters rights.”

“And what happens when that supply runs out?” Nelson asked. “Have you thought of that? What next?”

“We’re working on long term,” Tom said.

“Will that include medical supplies, too?” Nelson asked. “This is why restructuring—”

“Can we leave the campaigning for militia restructuring out of this for the time being please?” Lars cut in. “Allow me to acknowledge that both of you have valid points, whether I heard them or not. Right now …” he faced Rose, “what are you going to do? Will you hold off packing and leaving like Rambo in the night?”

Rose turned to Nelson. “Phones will be up tomorrow?”

“Yes, Ma’am for sure. Parts of Indiana are already getting signals. Just need to cross towers and we believe that connection will be tomorrow.”

“Okay. I’ll wait. I’ll call, wait until I hear back from Mick. But if he is still looking, then I am immediately heading out to help him.”

* * *

Briggs wasn’t a bad guy, or at least he never thought he was. He supposed people were intimidated because of his height. He never used it to push people around., but people did shrink out of his way when he approached.

It wasn’t like he demanded respect, nor did people go out of their way to give it to him. His men respected him but didn’t fear him. No one went out of the way to call him commander or say hello, they just stepped away when he walked by. The people of Damon and those who had joined up with his cause merely accepted what he was doing.

Doctor Fai Kiddi was wet behind the ears and finishing his residency at Allentown Memorial Hospital when the flu hit. Tossed in the throes of diseases, Fai, or Doc as everyone called him, was all they had as far as medical personnel went.

He was thirty, looked twelve to Briggs, and smoked a ton of cigarettes. When Doc first came to the town after the flu, everyone spoke loudly to him as if he were deaf, assuming he didn’t understand English. But Fai was born and raised in Miami, Florida.

Briggs walked into the medical facility, which was a mere twenty bed hospital. He asked where Doc was and only received a point to the back room.

Someone should have told him the door was an optical illusion, and that he had to duck. Briggs assumed it was a step down and not a short door, and smacked his forehead on the arch as he opened the door and stepped through.

“Son of a bitch.”

Laughter.

“Sorry,” Doc said. “Shut the door will you? I don’t want the smoke out there.”

Briggs coughed and waved through the thick cloud. “You’ll eventually run out of those things.”

“Please, I have an in. Tobacco plants are growing a plenty. Plus I have a closet full of cartons. Last me two years, maybe. Then perhaps I’ll quit.”

“I doubt that.”

“Me, too. What’s up?” Doc asked. “Aside from that doozy of a red mark on your forehead.”

“Fuck.” Briggs rubbed his head. “Really?”

“Um, no. I’m kidding.” He put out his cigarette.

“Good. It hurt. Anyhow, two women and a child were brought in. The woman was sick. You’re holding the other two.”

“Yep. What’s up?”

“Do they have our flu?”

Doc coughed a laugh. “No, what in the world would make you think that?”

“Municipal said.”

“They suck. No.” Doc shook his head. “I’m detaining the other two in case it’s something else, but I think it’s more a case of the woman ate something bad. That’s all. Stomach thing. They had a long journey. Your guys in Indiana found them and brought them here.”

“Where did they come from?”

“Oregon, I think. Yeah,” Doc said after a moment of thought.

Briggs whistled. “That’s a hell of a journey.”

“According to one woman, we’ll be seeing a lot of that. Nothing is left out west. Population is here.”

“I see. Well thanks ...” Briggs turned and stopped. “Hey, did they say if my men were decent to them? Any problems?”

“None that were brought up. They weren’t scared of your guys if that’s what you’re worried about.” When Briggs didn’t reply, Doc asked, “You concerned about that?”

“No. No …” Briggs paused. “Well, a little. Got a few crews out there I’m not familiar with and I worry, you know.”

“I do. Well, no one brought in today showed any signs of fear or abuse if that helps.”

“It does, thank you. And keep me posted on the health issues.”

Doc gave a thumbs up then lit another cigarette.

“You just put one out,” Briggs remarked.

“And I’m lighting another.”

Briggs grumbled and started to leave.

“Hey, Jonah, duck so you don’t get another red mark to match the big one on your head.”

“So I have a red mark and you lied.”

Doc smiled.

“Ass.” With a shake of his head, Briggs walked out. He remembered to duck.

He had intended to check on the survivors, but he took Doc at his word and opted against it. and instead returned to the municipal building to retrieve his horse. Wentworth was there waiting as he had instructed.

“You wanted to see me?” Jon asked. “Jonah, did you know you have a red mark on your head?”

“Yes.” Briggs rubbed his head. “Doc threw something at me by accident. Anyhow …”

“No. Not yet. Tomorrow, I swear.”

“What?” Briggs asked.

“You wanted to know about the phones.”

“No, I didn’t, but thanks. I wanted to ask you something else. You seem reasonable, Jon. I’m looking for a right hand man and would like you to be it.”

“Really? Cool.”

“Thanks.”

“No.”

“No what?”

“Um, as nice as the offer is, I’ll pass. I don’t want that much responsibility.”

“You’re in charge of getting communications back up, how is that not a big responsibility?” Jon shrugged. “Too bad.” Briggs reached out and gave a swat to Jon’s arm, sending him sailing sideways a foot. “I know you live in that one room at the police station. We’ll have better housing for you at base.” Briggs began to walk off.

“Don’t I get a say so?” Jon asked.

“You do, but, Jon, you really have a voice of reason. You see a different side than I do. Like Richards, but Richards has other stuff I need him to do. I’d like you to be my right hand man. Please.”

“Fine. But I guess I better get used to not being popular anymore if I work for you.”

“Why is that?” Briggs asked.

“People don’t like you. They fear you,” Jon replied. “Not that they have reason. But you can’t be the nice guy all the time, Jonah. I wouldn’t respect you as leader if you took the easy route.”

“Appreciated.” Brigs shook his hand. “Can you do me a favor? Doc just admitted a couple of survivors into the clinic. They came from the west. Keep an eye out on them. I have a weird feeling. Just check in with me tomorrow if there’s a problem.”

“You’re not coming into town?” Jon asked.

“I hope to, but I have a team out there that I suspect may be causing problems on their runs. They’re supposed to check in first thing in the morning, and if not, I’m going out looking for them.”

“Don’t you have men for that?”

“I do, but I sent these guys out. If they did bad, then it is my job to correct it.” Briggs turned again to walk away.

“Jonah?” Jon called. Briggs stopped. “Yeah?”

“It’ll be good being your right hand man.”

After a wink and a nod of appreciation, Briggs sought his horse.

* * *

I’m an asshole
, Mick thought.
I am the biggest asshole ever.

He was angry and frustrated and couldn’t believe he hadn’t given Chris enough credit.

Mick had followed that gravel road for an hour until it led him to another set of fishing cabins. The boys weren’t there; no footprints in sight, and certainly no Denny Dynamite prints.

Mick headed back down the gravel road. At first he wondered if he had gone the wrong way, assuming there was no way the boys would head back to the camp. He had followed that road until it brought him right back to the camp and it was there, internally beating himself up over his inability to find the boys, that he reached into his pocket and pulled out the coin.

Then he realized how much he had erred.

Chris hadn’t dropped the coin next to the footprint and snack to say, ‘Hey, we were here’. Chris had put that specific coin next to the footprint on purpose.

The coin was a trick; an illusion. A way to deceive.

Chris left the coin next to the footprint as a way to tell Mick the footprints were a trick. That had to be the message. If not, at his pace, Mick would have found the boys. Now, much time had been lost.

At a faster speed, Mick went back down to the fishing cabin again to start over. By then it was getting dark and the footprints were harder to see. He found a second set of tracks by the lake and followed them until they led into the woods. At that point, it was full dark and he couldn’t see them anymore.

Mick had to stop; he’d start again at first light. The kids would stop for the night as well, he knew. As much as he wanted to keep going, the last thing Mick needed to do was lose more time by not following the correct trail again. He took heart in the fact that Chris was thinking ahead. That he was being diligent and smart.

He rested with his back against the cabin wall, and before he fell asleep, Mick said a prayer. He prayed that the next day he would have better luck and most importantly, that the boys were safe and well and stayed that way until Mick found them.

And he would.

* * *

Las Vegas, NV

Lexi returned from making one last round with her pneumonia patients. She washed up, changed, poured a drink, and shut the curtain in the hotel room. Not that it mattered much. It was dark outside and no other buildings were powered up. It was an eerie yet beautiful sight. She had always wanted to see Las Vegas; she just never thought that when she did it would be a dead city.

She wore a long tee shirt over a pair of shorts. The room was warm, though the air conditioning did help some. After sipping on her wine, she put the glass on the nightstand, propped her pillows and sat on the bed. She pulled only the sheet over her as she bought her legs up toward her.

Bill groaned in grogginess as he rolled over. He reached up and ran his hand down her leg. “Why don’t you try to sleep? It’s been a long day and tomorrow is another one.”

“I know,” she said softly.

“How are they?”

Her head bobbed from left to right. “Same. But I think I’ll do better with intravenous antibiotics.”

“That’s what I thought. The hospital won’t be easy. It may not be easy at all finding what you need.”

Lexi nodded.

“You okay?” Bill asked.

She winced. “My stomach is bothering me some. I knew I shouldn’t have eaten that steak.”

“You didn’t eat much.”

“It’s still red meat my body hasn’t digested in while. I’ll be fine,” she said. “Go back to sleep. I wanna …” She reached to the nightstand and not only grabbed her wine, she lifted her phone. “I wanna check.”

Bill slowly shook his head with closed eyes. “I can’t believe you kept that.”

“You never know. And did we know?” She lifted it. “Signal here in Vegas.”

“That doesn’t mean—”

“I know. But it’s something to do until my stomach settles and I get sleepy.”

“Okay. Goodnight. Wake me if you need me.”

“I will.” Lexi leaned down and gently kissed the top of his head.

Bill rolled over.

She stared at him for a second. They had become close. They weren’t lovers. She supposed in time they would be. But for the time being they were close, companions, best friends. They were together. She loved him and couldn’t imagine life, especially the one at hand, without him.

After a moment, she returned to her phone. It was stupid, she knew it, and possibly a waste of time. But really, what would it hurt?

Following another sip, she set down her wine, and stared at her phone. She opened up her ‘contact’ folder. Over three hundred contacts. Did she even know three hundred people?

Lexi had a plan.