Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3 (25 page)

In the dim evening light, Graham, Ennis, and the boys went down through the snow to the lake, the younger ones making use of their tactical maneuvers. Ennis walked with cautious steps. He wasn’t complaining, but Graham knew he was in pain. As he watched the boys, armed with their bows and acting quite serious, he still only saw boys in pretend mode.

“For the end of the world it sure is getting crowded around here,” Ennis said and Graham had to chuckle at the old man because he was right—cranky, but right.

For some damn reason, those that were left all headed for the woods.
Graham wondered if there was something to human nature that embedded a survival instinct to do just that. Like the monarch butterfly, flying from Canada to Mexico every year of its life. Perhaps humans have a natural instinct telling them that when the world goes to hell, head for the trees.

Ennis had scrubbed the rusty bear traps and Mark helped test them to be sure they worked properly. After setting them, they had Sheriff watch, while Graham used a stick to set the traps off several times. The dog jumped back and learned the danger. They hoped that would be enough to keep him from injury. They found a few obvious places a man would have to step in trying to come up to the camp, and they placed the traps in these likely places, covering them lightly with shoreline debris to disguise them. This only worked if the intruder stepped in exactly the right spot and, of course, there was no reliable way to make that happen.

“More than likely we’ll see a deer running like hell, with one of these caught on its hoof,” Ennis said.

“Uh, I don’t want that to happen,” Bang said, because he was partial to the animals.

Ennis shook his head. “It can’t be helped.”

Graham found a black permanent marker in the glove box of Tala’s car, took a piece of scrap plywood, and wrote
trespassers will be shot
. He nailed it to a tree so it couldn’t be missed on approach to their lake entry. It wasn’t lost on him, the irony that Campos had also posted such signs. It disturbed him, but he didn’t know what else to do.

Though it wasn’t a perfect plan, he lacked supplies and better ideas. The men began to pull back strategic tree limbs that would flip loose at the slightest jolt and startle a person sneaking in at night up the trail. They also camouflaged boards with upturned nails in them along the meandering path.

After they were done, the four of them gazed down at their handiwork and Mark said, “Too bad they’re not lasers.”

The two older men chuckled at that. “Yeah. If they were, they’d have a hell of a time getting through in one piece,” Ennis said.

“Well, I think that’s good for now,” said Graham “I’ll stay up tonight. Ennis, you can take over around three,” Graham said.

Graham held the cabin door open for the others to enter, and then whistled for Sheriff to come in. Soon the dog appeared at the edge of the forest and trotted in for the night. Graham took one last look at the bright, moonlit clearing, and then closed the cabin door to the outside dangers for the night. He smelled the wonderful barley and cougar stew Tala had created, along with the pinewood scent in the crisp air from the woodstove.

After Tala’s wonderful dinner, Graham took his post as the rest wandered off to bed. Unlike the world of the past, there was seldom idle time. You woke with the light of dawn, and then crashed at night as soon as permitted, only to do it all over again the next day. Actually, he thought it was good for the kids. They all seemed to be doing well, considering what they’d been through, and for Graham, at least, that said something.

As for the adults—well, he missed his family and work. Tala had pretty much replaced one family for another in terms of caring for them. Sure, she missed her family terribly but you wouldn’t know it, watching as she cared for this bunch. Old Ennis had been written off by relatives who felt he wasn’t worth anything any longer. Boy, if they could see him now! Graham wasn’t sure what he’d do without the old guy’s advice and company, even as cranky as he was.

Graham kept watch with Sheriff by his side. This dog was another family member to him, really. Sheriff had saved his ass once and warned them of danger countless other times. In the past Graham had often said he preferred cats to dogs. What a ridiculous notion that seemed to him now; in this world a dog like Sheriff was essential, and now he understood the classic novels like
Old Yeller
more than ever before.

He sat in the quiet room draped in darkness, listening to the soft snores from the bunkroom. He wondered about Tala and knew something had begun to grow between them, but he wasn’t ready to give it a name just yet. Something still held him back, even though he could smell her across the room at night. Their eyes often locked randomly during odd moments during the day, and that night when he’d held her close in the forest as the invaders came in, his instinctive protectiveness had surprised him in its intensity.

After that he’d noticed she did little things for him too. Even though she didn’t drink coffee, she made the brew and presented it to him every morning just the way he liked it. Nelly had done that too. Though he appreciated Tala’s effort, it was a painful reminder of the past, as if his gratitude toward Tala was somehow dishonoring Nelly. This had the effect of making him feel a bit jaded about the feelings he knew were developing. He thought it might be mutual, but he wasn’t certain if she just enjoyed playing house or if she really sensed the same thing.

Graham looked out the window and up toward the bright moon. You could always tell when things were going to get chilly: when the moon was especially clear on a winter night, it was going to be extra frosty the next day. He got up and added another log to the fire, disturbing Sheriff in the process. The dog jerked and settled down again after watching to see what Graham was doing. Then his ears went on radar patrol again. It was funny to watch the dog do that. His eyes would slowly close and then his ears would continue to pivot like some sort of radar detection device put on autopilot when the dog slept. Graham ran a hand down his furry back. “Dude, you smell like bad Cheetos,” he whispered.

Graham once again scanned the perimeter and noticed a doe walking into the snow-covered clearing, followed by two smaller deer munching on the dry, telescoping grass near the tree line. They knew he had his eyes on them, but seemed not to care enough to leave. Graham liked to watch them, especially during the silence of the night. He wanted to go wake Bang up to show him what they looked like in the early morning blueness, but he resisted the temptation.

Of all the kids, Bang seemed to be closest to him, perhaps because he was the first of the immune that Graham had encountered or maybe it was because the boy was completely dependent on him and had been entrusted to him by his brave mother. Whatever the reason, he could say with full honesty that he loved Bang as his own now. Graham knew that if something were to happen to the boy, he’d grieve as if he were his own flesh and blood—and maybe that had been Hyun-Ok’s intention all along. He was honored now that she’d chosen him for the boy.

Graham could hear footsteps shuffling his way. The old man couldn’t sleep past three in the morning anyway, so that seemed a good time to change watchman. “Hey, Ennis, sleep well?” Graham asked.

“As well as an old man can after the apocalypse,” Ennis said, then asked, “anything happen?”

“Only intruders are those deer,” Graham said, motioning to the window.

“It’s too light with a bright moon for some fool to come to try something stupid,” Ennis said.

“Sure is, but I’m off to sleep right now, Mr. Ennis,” Graham said, and as he got up, Sheriff followed him into the bunkroom, climbing on Macy’s bed as usual. It seemed to Graham that, even though Sheriff was a family dog, he was ultimately locked to Macy. If it came down to it, he’d abandon them all for her alone. He didn’t blame the dog; she was a good girl.

Graham fell fast asleep thinking of this new family unit and the events that had brought them together, meeting here in his grandfather’s cabin after the end of most of humanity. His next conscious memory that night sounded very far away, like a glass breaking and then a bark out of Sheriff, warning him. Sudden dread raced through him, but he could do nothing about it.

They worked without even hand signals. Though the light outside was bright for the dead of night, they were able to put up all the exterior cameras without a hitch. Many of them were disguised as natural evergreen items you’d find in any garden variety forest, so their detection was unlikely. With that done, they headed for the main event. It was a little risky, mostly because of the dog.

They had to plan it right. There was no better detector than a family police dog, so charming Sheriff was essential. Since that was impossible, the next best thing was to put the dog under as quickly as possible.

The first windowpane came out fairly quietly but the second one shattered in with the cold temperatures. It couldn’t be helped, and with the noise there was no turning back now.

Rick already had the canister ready and simply pulled the fuse. Instead of tossing it in willy-nilly, he sprayed the stream directly at the dog first, which put him out fast, then tossed it into the cabin. At least they wouldn’t have any accidents now, and knowing that relief, they were able to pull the old window open without incident. They’d already loosened one pane close to the old man by the front door, sending him to sleep right away.

Rick was a little concerned for the small boy. The amount of gas that he would inhale could result in a respiratory issue for him. But, as luck would have it, he slept in the farthest bunk and received less of the gas. Once they were in, Rick blew a sigh of relief when he realized Graham had his hand around the trigger of his shotgun and one foot off the bed. He wasn’t sure if the man actually slept that way or if he’d had a chance to react. In any event, Rick quickly pulled out the prefilled needles for the man and popped the common flu shot into his right shoulder. The next, larger one, he slid under his right arm’s back fat. That one was special and they all got it. He and Steven kept it a secret, and when Dalton found out, Rick hoped he wouldn’t be too angry. Then Rick quickly gave Graham a tetanus shot.

Each man, contained in his hazmat gear, carefully and quickly went from person to person. Rick then wandered into the living area to get the old man by the door. He had four shots coming. “Poor sucker,” Rick whispered, “got to get you through the winter, Pops.” After he finished administering the shots, he put up the tiny hidden cameras in several spots throughout the cabin living space, and on his way back to the bunkroom, he continued to plant a few more, adjusting their view as he went.

By the time Rick finished, Steven had completed the dog’s inoculations too. Then Steven reached through the open window and pulled in the gifts, handing the contents to Rick one by one. Rick put them ceremoniously in the middle of the living area floor, so the residents of Graham’s camp would know it was intentional, like Christmas morning. He laid a note from Dalton on the very top.

Having completed their tasks without incident, the two men exited the window once more and replaced the glass panes with ones they’d brought along for the occasion, quickly piping the sealant into place. They knew the mystery of how they entered the cabin would be revealed in time, but in their thinking, they were keeping the heat in on this family that they had come to care for during their evening entertainment.

With moonlight guiding their way back, they needed no artificial lighting. It seemed like the old days to them, and somehow they felt gleeful to be back in action again. When would they have the chance to do something like this again? Unfortunately, Rick and Steven now had to go into quarantine on their arrival back at their own camp, but the mission had gone off without a hitch and they felt good about it.

Joking while they ran through the night, Rick said, “I can’t wait to see Graham’s face in the morning,” as a parent would say in anticipation of Christmas morning.

Steven looked at his comrade through his suit’s clear safety casing and laughed aloud, but both became solemn when they heard Dalton’s voice saying, “Cut the crap and get back to camp.” Rick had a strong suspicion Dalton was smiling, too, as he stood watching them on his computer screen, though he didn’t let it come through in his voice.

As the men got closer they scared a few unsuspecting deer away and the deer scared them back in turn when several the men hadn’t detected rushed past them.

Knowing the procedure, they entered the wash chamber camouflaged outside the security area of the preppers’ campgrounds in the forest. As they stood in their suits, chemicals sprayed them as they turned around. They danced the Hokey Pokey for the cameras, complete with singing. Both men were feeling a little goofy after all the seriousness they had been through. They’d started doing this Hokey Pokey business a while back, and now it was an established ritual to break up the gravity of the situation as they entered quarantine.

Both men finished their last twirl, and the next set of doors opened for them. They stood in place, removed the hazmat gear, and stepped into the new sterile environment. Then the doors behind them closed, and they were again misted. With closed eyes they twirled like airplanes in a tailspin, but there was no singing this time, as they had to hold their breath for too long. The final set of doors opened and then they entered another room set up with two cots beside monitors that they needed to hook up to one another. A small refrigerator with a microwave on top and a toilet behind a screen were positioned in the far corner.

A disembodied voice broke the silence: “We loaded a little surprise this time. Check the play list on your iPad, Rick.”

Rick walked over to the digital read and saw that all the episodes of
Seinfeld
were listed. “
All right!
Thanks, guys!” he said.

Steven said, “Shit, seriously?” and picked up his own iPad to see what awaited him. “
House
and
The Walking Dead
. Very funny,” he said to the voice known as Clarisse, the Quarantine Queen.

“Your families are waiting to hear from you, of course, but have already been notified of the mission’s success. You’ve both been here before and know what to do. This is the first hour, so get started. We have to treat this just like the first time,” Clarisse said.

Both men unzipped their disposable Tyvek suits at the same time, stepping out of them and tossing them into the chute that extended to the instant incinerator. They could hear the first chamber going through the incineration process on the front part of the building. In a kind of silent ballet both men, wearing standard issue boxer shorts and white T-shirts, walked over to their separate sides and inserted needles into the ports that were had been placed in their arms ahead of time for the continuous blood draws the quarantine procedures demanded. They withdrew their own blood with use of the ports, and put the samples in airlock chambers on each side that would be tested the first hour, second hour, sixth hour, twelfth hour, and so on and so forth, to make sure the probability of the virus detection maintained the predicted outcome.

This was not the fun part. If the virus was present, you were given the choice to use the red injection syringe which you could take with you to the incinerator portal to make things easier for the living. Simply inject it into the port, fall asleep, and never wake up. When no vital signs were detected after a certain amount of time, the portal would simply incinerate the remains and the virus along with it. Or, as some of the arrivals found, they could spend the last of their days in the comfortable bedroom chamber until nature took its course and then the whole room could be set to incineration to keep the virus from spreading.

This is what they’d had to do with the Carsons. Each and every member of the team watched as first the son and then the daughter, followed by the father and then finally the mother, all succumbed to the virus. The mother cared for each of them until she no longer could. A wonderful mother and wife to the very end, she saw them through. It tortured the preppers to watch it all, and it came as a relief to see the last vital sign finally go flat. Then, of course, they felt guilty for feeling the relief. Since then, all who had to go through quarantine tried to inject some humor as armor when entering the chamber. The reality of what might be required of them was too damn hard.

After the two guys had finished their blood withdrawals, they put on the vitals monitors, expertly attaching them where they needed to go, and then pulled back the covers to their cots. Once comfortable, they used the radio system to check in with their families. Both chatted with their loved ones only briefly because it was late; better coherence would come in the light of day. They were too punch-drunk to go to sleep just yet, so Steven got up and checked his little refrigerator, stocked with the things he favored. For now he pulled out a bottle of water and drank that down.

Rick asked because he wanted to know and because he knew they would always be listening: “Are the cameras up and ready? Camp still asleep?” he asked the disembodied voice.

Dalton answered, “Yes, Rick, they’re still asleep. I’m zooming in on the boy right now. He’s on his side, so I can’t tell much other than his chest is rising and falling, but that’s a good sign. Did Graham have any reaction time?” Dalton asked.

Rick lay in bed looking up at the wall with his arms crossed behind his head, tapping his fingers and making the wires jiggle in the process. “His trigger finger was happy, with one leg ready to go, but that was as far as he got,” Rick said.

“I have something to tell you, Dalton,” Rick said after a moment of silence, feeling guilty about his omission already. Dalton let it hang in the air a moment as he wrote down notes, observing the sleeping members of Graham’s camp.

“Save it, Rick. I already know,” Dalton said grouchily.

Rick winced.

“Wished I’d thought of it first,” Dalton said, knowing Rick felt guilty about implanting the trackers without his permission.

“They’re all going to be pretty pissed in the morning, including that dog,” Rick said looking over at Steven, who just shrugged his shoulders. Somehow, this thought just now occurred to Rick.

“Don’t worry, I told them it was all your idea in the note,” Dalton said.

“Goodnight, jerkwad.” Rick rolled over, taking his covers and wires with him.

“Goodnight, princess,” Dalton said.

~ ~ ~

Dalton continued to monitor Graham’s group from the cameras. Soft snoring sounds crept through the microphones and not-so-soft snoring sounds invaded the one in the living room. Everything seemed fine as Dalton paid close attention to the lakeside and front perimeter cameras at the same time. One risk was having the carriers off sentry duty, making them defenseless. Dalton risked the chances that the intruders wouldn’t attack during such a bright moonlit night, and this had paved the way for the preppers’ own shenanigans. They had to do this now to give the members of Graham’s camp the things they needed to protect themselves better—and sooner, so they would be prepared for the next night attack.

It was quite something as he watched them get through the lake trail without falling victim to one of their primitive booby-traps. The ambient light of the moon cast down on them and the intricacy of the traps challenging as they maneuvered through the maze, often tripping, which caused the other men watching the monitors to hold their breath.

At the second hour, both men in quarantine were prompted to get up and do the second blood withdrawal. After that, they could each sleep for four hours until prompted again. “So far so good,” came Clarisse’s soft voice.

“Goodnight, Clarisse,” both men said in unison. It somehow was reminiscent of a bygone cartoon involving two chipmunks.

The voice laughed and said nicely to them, “Goodnight, boys.”

The lights went off, and the two men drifted off finally as infrared lighting watched their every breath and pulse for the first of the ten-day observation.