Outbreak: Long Road Back (4 page)

While they were holed up in the school she had nearly run out of her medication and she had come on to Lacey. Shit, she had practically thrown herself at him but thankfully the goddamn Boy Scout had turned her down. Rodriguez chuckled to herself as she hobbled along on her bad leg. The Boy Scout and Goody Two Shoes. That was something else entirely. A completely different type of animal all together… Actually it was more like a love/hate relationship that had been smoking pounds of meth and chugging Jack Daniels by the gallon. She swallowed hard, wishing for that delicious burn of hard liquor as it went down…

“Hey, beautiful!” a jovial voice called startling her out of her thoughts. Carl came towards her at a quick walk a big grin plastered all over his face. “Where you off to?” The younger man gave her a big hug and a peck on her scarred cheek when he got within range.

“Gotta go to the Aid Station real quick.” Rodriguez said and returned the favor. She quickly disentangled herself from his arms and gave Carl a sheepish grin. “Um…wanna walk with me? I mean if you got time.”

“Yeah, sure!” the blond man exclaimed and moved closer to the woman’s side. “We got the rest of the afternoon off ‘cause of the airdrop.” He added conspiratorially “I heard there’s gonna be a hundred Spec Ops guys dropping in.”
Rodriguez rolled her eyes. “Nah, man.” she said and bumped her hip into the man’s side. “It’s just food and shit. Meds hopefully.” Carl frowned and slipped an arm around Rodriguez’s shoulders, holding her to him as they walked. She shrugged into his armpit for a moment and leaned her head against his shoulder then pushed off. “Look…um…”

“Heh…” he muttered awkwardly and moved into a more comfortable distance. Frannie was weird about holding his hand and stuff while she was in uniform or on duty or whatever. “How you doing? I mean really.”

She snorted and turned her face away rolling her eyes. “Scared shitless.” she admitted. The woman shrugged inside her plate carrier and made an odd face. “My head’s a scary place to be right now, man.” Her hand dipped into her ammo pouch and pulled out her cigarettes, lit one and put them back. “I…I almost flipped shit on Lieutenant Haskins. She just asked how I was doing and I…I wanted to shoot her in the face for a second there.”

“It’ll be okay, Frannie.” He stopped and caught her arm, pulling the woman into a tight embrace. Carl put a hand on the back of Frannie’s neck and put his forehead against hers, the very tips of their noses touching under the rim of her Kevlar. “It’s gonna be alright, right? We got this shit. This ain’t shit.”

She grinned and pecked the tip of his nose. “Right, man.” Rodriguez let her hands slide down the man’s sides, enjoying the way color crept into the man’s face as his breath ticked her cheek. “I don’t want to fuck this up. I don’t want to fuck this up.”

“I know…” Carl said as they came up to the building. He paused outside the Aid Station’s perimeter wall and let his hand run down her arm. She smiled at him and, just for a moment, he saw what she must have looked like five or ten years ago. Before she got hurt and whatever else might have happened to her… “Amy’s got duty over in the TOC until like…eleven o’clock or whatever…”

Frannie laughed and stood on her tiptoes to peck Carl on the lips. “I know. I’m sitting on the radio desk with her.” Carl’s face seemed to fall in on itself and it only made Rodriguez laugh harder. “Bring us some dinner later, please?” She wheedled him, looking up at Carl with her dark brown eyes. The woman grinned and could feel his desire for her like heat.

“Oh, alright!” Carl exclaimed with mock frustration and patted Frannie on the butt as she hobbled through the front gate. It was no trouble at all. After all, the place where they handed out rations was like way on the other side of the place. It hurt him to watch Frannie limp along even if it was barely noticeable. He suspected that she knew he felt bad for her so she tried really really hard to not limp as much when he was around. And well…his little nephew was getting pretty big. It would not be long now…

Unsure of what to do with himself Carl started ambling over towards the Resettlement Center. He kicked a stone through the grass ahead of him as he walked with his hands jammed into the pockets of his filthy jeans. He could not help but be a little worried about his sister. It was the third time since they got here that some asshole made her stay up so late. Aim was not sleeping good as it was and Frannie was coming apart at the seams…

“Yo! Frays! Get your ass over here!” A big black man in one of the Digicam uniforms shouted from off to Carl’s left startling the boy out of his thoughts. The man’s voice was heavily accented almost to the point of being unintelligible. The guy sounded like he was African or Jamaican or some shit. “Where the fuck did you go?” There were two more guys with him, one of them dressed in kacki trousers and a black polo shirt. “Who the fuck told you you could leave?”

“You did, Johnson.” Carl grumbled under his breath eyeing the man angrily. It was right about then that Carl noticed a Colt 1911 in a familiar holster on Kacki Boy’s hip. He took a couple quick steps towards the man, pointing at the weapon. All of a sudden Johnson and his little butt buddy were the farthest thing from his mind. “Hey where the fuck you get that?” 

“It’s none of your business, son.” Kacki Boy said, giving the boy a cocky little grin that shifted his fashionable Aviator sunglasses on his face slightly. He had a highfaluting accent, probably British. “And watch your mouth.” This drew little titters of laughter from the two Blue Diamond guys.

“Lemme see it!” Carl demanded, pointing furiously at the man’s hip. “That looks like my dad’s goddamn gun! Where the fuck did you get that, you thieving piece of shit?” He walked up to Kacki Boy, his face a mask of absolute rage. “Gimme my fuckin’ gun!”

Johnson slugged the boy in the side of the head, stopping Carl in his tracks. Carl lashed out with the toe of his boot catching the mercenary in the groin. The next thing Carl knew he was on the ground and the two mercs were kicking him. White light exploded behind his eyes when a blow slammed into the back of his head. Red hot lances stabbed through his chest. Carl coughed choking on coppery tasting liquid.

Carl blinked and opened his eyes…or rather tried to open his eyes. They were swollen so much that he could barely crack his lids. “Oh, thank God!” Amy cried, wiping at her cheeks. She took her brother’s hand and held it tight. It took him a couple seconds to realize that he was on a bed in the Aid Station. “Thank God! Thank God!”

Another voice interrupted his sister. “I think we deserve a little credit here too, guys.” Lieutenant Haskins said quietly. Carl’s world twisted and spun like a kaleidoscope on acid then slowly settled into the woman’s face. That other medic dude, the black guy, was standing next to her. “Somebody kicked the crap out of you, Mister Frays.”

Carl made a strange sound in his throat that might have been an attempt at a laugh. Amy was shaking in her chair next to his bed but he could not tell if it was because she was scared or angry or whatever. “Who did this, Carl?” Amy asked in a low quiet voice as she squeezed her brother’s hand.

Lieutenant Haskins made a face behind their backs. “He…he won’t be able to talk for awhile, Airman.” the doctor muttered. She had gotten to know Airman Frays and her brother pretty well in the short time they had been here. “His jaw was partially dislocated.”

Frays dug into her cargo pocket and came up with a pen and a small spiral bound notepad. She flipped the little book to a blank page and put it on the bed. “Who did this, Carl?” Amy repeated as she put the pen in her brother’s hand. Carl scribbled something down then pushed the pad of paper towards his big sister. It took her a couple minutes to decipher Carl’s shaky chicken scratches but Amy felt like someone had dumped a bucket of ice water on her head when she figured out what he wrote.

A short skinny man in Marine cammies met Frays as she stormed into the hall. “Frays! Frays, what’s going on?” Lacey said as he tried to catch the woman by the sleeve. The woman ignored him and kept right on going. “Frays, is Carl alright? Frays?! Stop!”

Lacey’s throat constricted when Frays turned to face him his friend’s eyes a roiling sea of anger, pain and confusion. “They beat him, man.” Frays choked out at last, one hand going over her mouth. “They beat him half to death. My baby brother, man. They…h-he…th…his friggin’ jaw is busted…”

Lacey put his arms around her. “He’s gonna be okay, Frays.” he whispered in her ear as he held her tight, gently rocking her from side to side. “He’s a tough kid. Don’t worry. He’ll be up and around being a pain in your ass in no time.”

Frays hugged him back then sniffed and wiped her cheeks. “Yeah.” Frays muttered as she extracted herself from the man’s arms. “Look…I gotta go get the report on this and then get back to the desk.” She looked horrified for a second. “Oh, jeez...Rodriguez has gotta be going nuts. This guy just came in and told me Carl was in the Aid Station…”

“I got the rest of the afternoon off.” Lacey volunteered as the two of them went outside and headed towards the gate. He glanced over his shoulder at the woman and shrugged. “I’ll head over there so Frannie can come over and see Carl.”

The two of them went their separate ways, Lacey sprinting off towards the TOC while Frays went towards the Security Forces building. Sergeant Hanes stopped her a few feet inside the door. “Don’t worry, Frays.” he told her with a reassuring pat on her shoulder “You just go back to the desk over there. The investigation’s already underway. Don’t get all stressed out, alright? We’re gonna catch the guys.”

Frays fumed. “Look…Sergeant…” she said through clenched teeth once she felt like she could open her mouth without shouting “It was Blue Diamond guys. Carl told me. I brought him here because it was gonna be safe. We’re here barely a week and he’s in the hospital.”

The man frowned concernedly. “Frays…listen to me, alright?” he asked quietly as he hooked the woman’s arm and dragged her outside. Sergeant Hanes closed the door behind them and glanced back through the pane of glass. His face became the very picture of seriousness. “Listen. Just keep quiet. Let me handle it. Don’t do anything stupid, alright?” When the woman did not respond he put a hand on her shoulder and squeezed. “Alright?”

“Yes, Sergeant.” She snorted and pressed her lips into a thin line, suddenly realizing how similar this conversation was to one she had with her Flight Sergeant back just before everything went crazy in Boston. “I’m cool. I’m cool. I have to get back to the TOC. Rodriguez…Carl’s girlfriend she was working the desk with me. Jeez…she’s gotta be going insane. I’ll get back over there.”

Rodriguez sat in her chair rolling forward and back, one hand scratching at the scars on her throat. “Rodriguez….” Lacey said as he reached out and caught the armrest of the woman’s chair. “Don’t worry. I’m sure he’s fine.”

Rodriguez exploded out of her chair. “How the fuck do you know that?” She paced around inside the office, still scratching at her throat. She felt this strange sticky warmth on her fingertips and frowned. It took her a moment to connect the blood on her fingers to the burning sensation under her chin. “Fuck…”

Lacey leapt up. “Jeez, Rodriguez…take a seat.” He put a hand on the woman’s shoulder and gently guided her back into her chair. Lacey started pawing through the desk drawers frenetically searching the contents while trying act like he was not in the least freaked out by Rodriguez clawing her skin off in front of him. “Damn…not even a fuckin’ Band-Aid or whatever. Hang on. I’ll be right back.”

“It’s…it’s cool, man.” Rodriguez muttered as she reached out and caught the man’s arm. She blew out a long shuddering breath and licked her lips, her throat and mouth drying out and filling with cotton. She found a thing of toilet paper from an MRE in her pocket so she unfolded it and used that to stop her bleeding.

Rodriguez sat there taking long pulls of lukewarm water from her Camelbak and wishing it was filled with beer or maybe a strong mixture of Jack and Coke….a fifth of bourbon or so to two liters of Coke would do the trick about now.

Lacey felt his eyes getting watery as he watched Rodriguez sitting there. She had lost Eamon, her boyfriend or whatever, like a couple of months ago and oh God Laura… Rodriguez was taking this pretty hard but Carl was going to be okay. He just got hurt or whatever… He jumped a little bit when the woman mumbled something under her breath. “I’m sorry, what?”

Rodriguez sighed and made a strange face. “I said I need a goddamn drink.” the woman sighed again and shrugged. She scratched an itch on the side of her nose and let a breath out slowly through her nose.
Now’s as good a time as any, I guess…
Rodriguez looked the man in the eye. “I’ve been sober for seven months or so. Used to have a little problem with the bottle and pills. Gave me all the morphine I wanted in the hospital. Bastards threw me out on my ass as soon as I could walk again.”

It took him a second but all of a sudden he realized at least part of the reason why Rodriguez had been so moody and depressed while he and Frays were helping her recover from her gunshot wound… They had kept her pretty well doped up on whatever they could dig out of Eamon’s bag of tricks. “Oh, Christ…” Lacey muttered and wiped his mouth with the palm of his hand “Shit…I’m so sorry, Frannie.”

The woman shrugged. “It’s okay. You guys didn’t know.” Rodriguez turned back towards the radio and leafed through the manual on the table. “It isn’t like I told you. And well, the drive to the cabin wouldn’t have been fun… And I don’t really like to advertise it.”

Lacey loosed a small nervous laugh. “Yeah, I guess so…” he muttered and absently scratched at the back of his neck for a moment. “Don’t worry. I won’t tell anybody if you don’t want me to. Your secret’s safe with me.”