What Survives of Us (Colorado Chapters Book 1) (24 page)

Jack looked at Martin.  “Can you organize some folks to go down and get those kids?  If possible, I’d like it if you were one of them.  Just to be sure they’re on the up and up.”

              Martin didn’t bother to conceal his impatience.  “I’d like to find out if she has news first.”  He didn’t wait for permission, speaking to Naomi.  “My kids were in Limon – have you heard anything?  Any information at all?  Or do you know of a survivor in one of the eastern ranching communities?  It’s a small, close-knit group, even though it’s spread out.  Maybe…”

             
He trailed off, face grim, when Naomi started shaking her head.  “I’m so sorry, there’s nothing I can tell you.  I picked up an automated radio station a few weeks ago – April 28
th
, the announcement said – but it just summarized the progress of the plague world-wide.  It was really bad.  99-100% fatality rates in some places.”  Her eyes returned to Macy’s cot, and she rubbed the center of her chest.  “I’ve lost contact with my oldest daughter, Piper.  She was at UNC.  That’s why we came to Woodland Park – she’ll meet us at our cabin, up at Carrol Lakes.  She may be there already.”

             
They were all silent, then, the only sound the quiet metal clink of the spoon in the pot Layla was heating soup in.  No reason to voice what they all feared, that Martin’s children were likely dead.  That Noami’s older daughter was likely dead as well.  Finally, Martin took a deep breath.

             
“Okay, then.  We’ll go get those kids.  I’ll bring them here as soon as we’ve got them.”  He nodded brusquely at Naomi and strode out without saying goodbye. 

Layla dished up a bowl of hot soup for Naomi, and Jack waited until she’d savored a few bites before speaking.  “Do you intend to stay in the area, then?”

Naomi nodded, hesitated, then shrugged.  “It all depends on whether or not Piper has reached the cabin yet.  I haven’t thought much beyond that, to be honest.  I’ve just been trying to get us here in one piece.”

“I understand that.  There are just over 100 of us still alive in the immediate area, as near as we can tell.  We’ve started talking about how to go forward, and our chances of surviving
are better if we all work together.  Do you think you might be interested in being a part of our community?”

Again, Naomi shrugged.  She took another bite of soup, and smiled sadly.  “I was president of the PTA, and served on just about every school committee you can think of.  I like to join, to help.  But right now, I’ve got to get Macy well.  And I’ve got to find Piper.”  Her voice caught, and she had to swallow several times before she could continue.  When she looked up, her eyes were bright with tears she fought to keep from falling.  “My girls are everything.  The whole world.  Without them, I’m not…anything.”

Oh, but you are, Jack wanted to argue.  But it wasn’t the time.  “We’ll do anything we can do to help you with both goals.  In the meantime, do you have any work skills or hobbies that we might be able to ruthlessly exploit?”  He smiled engagingly, and was rewarded by Naomi’s rusty chuckle.

“Well, I bake some mean cookies.”  Her face fell, and she looked down again. 
Shame, inadequacy, embarrassment
.  “I don’t have any skills, really.  I was just a housewife, before.  I didn’t work.  I just took care of my family.”

Layla stepped towards her, and ducked until she was looking into Naomi’s face.  “You walked out of Colorado Springs with your daughter, two dogs and only what you could carry.  You got all of you here safely.  Are you seriously going to stand there and tell us you’re unskilled?”  She shook her head, her eyes openly admiring.  “I hope you stay.  We need someone as s
trong and resourceful as you.”

Jack
felt
Layla’s words sink into Naomi, felt their balm and comfort.  Naomi smiled shyly at Layla.  “Thank you.  I guess I’m used to people dismissing what I do as unimportant.  Oh!”  She brightened.  “I can shoot!  I forgot that.  I’ve never hunted, but I almost never miss when we shoot skeet.”  She looked thoughtful.  “I’m not sure if I could hunt, to tell you the truth.  I’ve always had such a rapport with animals.  But I could teach others, I’m sure of it.”

“That’s excellent – exactly the kind of thing we’re looking for.”  Jack paused, and judged the moment was right.  “This may sound strange, and I don’t want to alarm you, but can I also ask if you’ve experienced anything unusual, any unusual perceptions or feelings?”

Naomi looked up, startled, the spoon halfway between the bowl and her mouth.  She glanced briefly at Hades and hedged.  “Ah, I’m not sure what you mean.”

Jack smiled his reassurance.  “Since the plague, we’ve had a lot of people talking about unusual experiences – they know things, but they’re not sure how, or they have really strong hunches or intuitions, so strong they’re sure they’re true.  Anything like that?”

Again, Naomi glanced at Hades.  “Hmm.  Well.”  She took a deep breath.  “Yes.  I guess you could say that.  I can, well, you see…”  She laughed, and blew out a breath of air.  “Geez, this is hard to talk about with anyone but Macy!  I can communicate with the dogs,” she said in a nervous rush.  “And my cat, sort of.  I’m not sure about other animals.  Have other people talked about that?  Being able to share senses with their animals?”

Layla spoke.  “We heard there’s a horse rancher on the west side of the city who can communicate with animals.  We haven’t met him yet.  Rowan’s working theory is that this is an evolution of the human species, brought on by stress.”  She shot a glance at Jack and folded her arms across her chest.  “I agree, though my take on it is a little different.  I do readings at metaphysical fairs, and those of us who work in the field have seen this shift coming for a long time.  It’s just that none of us expected it to happen so fast, or to so many people at once.  I
think the plague accelerated the shift in consciousness for many of the survivors.”

Naomi tipped her head back and shut her eyes for a moment. 
Relief
.  “I was afraid I had lost my mind.  Macy said no, that lots of people had changed, but I wasn’t sure…”  Her voice trailed off. 
Guilt.

             
“You weren’t sure if you should believe her,” Jack said gently.  “I felt the same way.  Layla and I can both sense what others are feeling, but I didn’t want to believe it at first.  I had to get run over and wrung out before I took it seriously.”  He paused and let her think about that, forgive herself.  “What about Macy?  Has she changed as well?”

             
“Oh, yes.”  Naomi’s face was grim.  “She
knows
things.  About her sister, and about the world.  It’s frightening, to tell you the truth.  It feels like she knows too much.  She can also, well…”  Again, Naomi trailed into silence, her eyes shifting between Jack and Layla.  She folded her lips firmly for a moment, then went on.  “Well, she has some other interesting…talents.”

             
She was hiding something about her daughter, that was clear.  Before Jack could probe further, Rowan appeared in the doorway, an expression on her face that was equal parts wonder and trepidation.  Her eyes found Naomi.

             
“Your daughter is awake,” she announced, then shifted her gaze to Layla and Jack.  “And she’s asking for Verity.” 

              Naomi set her soup bowl down with a clatter and hustled toward the kitchen door, Hades tight on her heels.  “Is there some plain broth that can be heated up for her?  I know you’ve got the IV going, but I really need her to eat something.” 

She turned when Rowan didn’t follow her, and found all three of them staring at each other in silence.  A cool snake of alarm writhed down her spine.  “Who is this Verity she’s asking for?  Is there someone here by that name?”

The charming young pastor answered with obvious reluctance.  “Yes.  We have a woman named Verity here…”

Naomi craned to look out the doorway.  Macy was accepting adoring chin-kisses from Persephone, smiling and stroking the tiny dog, and looked okay for the moment.  She turned back to face the three of them fully.  She didn’t have time to tiptoe around this.  “Why is this making all of you so uncomfortable?  I told you Macy
knows
things.  She told me there would be people here in Woodland Park that could help us, and there were.  What is it about this Verity?”

“Well,” a soft voice floated from the doorway on the far side of the kitchen, “It might be that I grow marijuana.”

Naomi looked up to find an angel made manifest, and didn’t even feel surprised.  “Verity, I presume?”

“I am.”  The woman’s smile was a glory to behold.  “I love timing an entrance perfectly.  It truly is one of my finest talents.”  She brushed back her darling angel-blonde curls.  “I also have a habit of saying what everyone is thinking but no one wants said.  It’s off-putting, I’m told.  Oh, and I communicate with the dead, which is why Macy wants to see me.  May I go introduce myself?”

“I suspect introductions won’t be necessary,” Naomi said dryly, though her heart was pounding.  Why would Macy have asked for this woman by name?  Why not Rowan?  “Let’s go.”

She plodded after the delicate, floating Verity, and watched what could only be called a reunion.  Verity knelt by Macy’s cot, and the two gazed at each other in wordless delight for a long moment, hands twining together.  Then Macy reached her arms up for a hug.  “I dreamed of you.  I’m so happy to meet you face to face at last.”

“And I you, little sister.”  Verity leaned back from the embrace, and curled one of Macy’s strawberry curls around her finger.  Her expression was tender.  “You made it just in time.”

“I know.”  Macy’s gaze flickered to Naomi.  “Mama, I could eat some soup.  Would you bring me some?”

There was something terrifying moving under the surface of this exchange.  Naomi raised her eyebrows and tried for a light tone.  “You don’t want soup.  You just want to get rid of me.”

Verity’s laughter rang like Christmas bells.  “She’s right, little sister.  Say what you mean.  Always.”

Macy looked chagrined for a heartbeat, then sighed.  “Okay.  Mama, would you please let me talk to Verity alone for a while?”

Naomi knelt on the other side of the cot, searching her daughter’s eyes.  “Why?  Why can’t I hear what you have to say to her?”

Macy glanced at Verity, who nodded.  Her eyes returned to Naomi, shuttered and unreadable.  “I need to talk to her about some things I’m not ready to talk to you about yet.  About Daddy and Piper, and some other things.”

Naomi stroked the soft curve of her cheek, and traced a finger down her little nose.  For this moment, she would allow
herself to believe Macy.  She would go heat some soup, and pretend that it would help.  She could feel a division forming in her mind, a barrier between what was, and what could not be.  What must not be.  “Will you tell me?  When you’re ready?” 

“I promise.”

Naomi rose and headed for the kitchen, ruthlessly focusing her attention on her footsteps and not on the soft murmur of voices behind her.  Beside her, Hades was whining, low and constant, expressing her own anxiety.  She dropped her hand to his head, sent his heart a pulse of comfort, and kept on walking.

In the kitchen, conversation hushed the minute she stepped into the doorway.  Jack, Layla and Rowan all stared at her from wary, pitying eyes.  From out of nowhere, rage boiled up, red-hot and uncontrollable.  “Oh, for pity’s sake,” Naomi snapped.  “As if I didn’t know you were talking about us!  It doesn’t take supernatural ability to figure that out!”

Her eyes lasered in on Rowan.  “Tell me.  All of it.  I can’t help her if I don’t know.”

Rowan tilted her head respectfully.  “Okay.  Your daughter survived the pneumonic version of the plague, but the bacteria multiplied in her blood, resulting in septicemia.  Her organs are failing.”

A high-pitched buzzing started in Naomi’s ears and bright lights darted and swooped in front of her eyes.  She took a deep breath and forced,
forced
herself to stay calm, to keep questioning, to find solutions.  “Is there a surgeon here?  I can donate a kidney, and I’ve read that I can donate part of my liver and still survive.”

Rowan shook her head.  “She’s bleeding internally, and has been for days.  Even if we had someone capable of performing such a specialized surgery, she wouldn’t survive the
procedure.”  Her gaze didn’t waver from Naomi’s even though she was delivering the worst possible news, the most unthinkable news.  “Her body is shutting down.  It’s just a matter of time.”

The high-pitched buzz became a hollow roar, and Naomi’s vision shrank to a pinpoint.  Her head felt so strange – tight and too hot and tingly.  She blinked over and over, and found herself sitting in a chair with Jack and Layla hovering at her shoulders, Rowan kneeling in front of her.

Rowan grasped her hands tightly.  “Let us move Macy to Layla and Jack’s cottage.  I can keep her comfortable, and we’ll be there to support you.  After.”

Naomi stared into her eyes, searching for even a trace of uncertainty.  “They said the same thing about the plague.  That no one would survive.  My husband died, but Macy didn’t.  She didn’t.  She beat the odds once, she could do it again.  You could be wrong.”

Rowan’s eyes were tortured with sorrow and knowledge.  She shook her head again.  “Naomi, it’s not just an educated guess.  I
see.
  Do you understand?  I can
see
people from a medical perspective.  I knew Jack would live.  And I know Macy won’t.”  She squeezed Naomi’s hands so tightly, their bones grated together.  “I’m not sure why she’s alive now.  Please.  Let us help you both.”

Jack’s hand came to rest gently on her shoulder.  “She’s right, Naomi.  Please let us help.  Are you a person o
f faith?  We’ll pray with you-”

Naomi surged to her feet so fast she knocked the chair over.  She glared at each of them in turn, then fixed her gaze on Jack.  “Your God,” she hissed, “Is not here.  He has left us, if he was ever here at all.  What kind of God could let such a sweet, beautiful, little girl die?  To have survived so much, just to die now?  How is that fair?  How is that right?”

Tears slid steadily from the corners of Layla’s eyes.  “I don’t have words for how sorry I am,” she said brokenly.  “I wish there was some way you would let us help you.”

Jack’s voice, too, was rough
with barely-controlled emotion.  “If you’ll allow it, we’ll hold vigil with you, and be with you in your time of grief.  I know you’re angry at God, but I believe He sent you to us for a purpose.”

“What purpose could any of this have?”  Everything that had been building and growing in her, all the anger, uncertainty and fear that she’d been hiding from both Macy and herself, burst free.  “What possible ‘reason’ could there be for a plague that wipes out mankind, except that God is finished with us?  There’s nothing of God in this – it’s natural law!  We poisoned our own nest.  Animals that foul their nests are doomed.  In just a few weeks, our children are reduced to hunting pets for food.  What’s next?  Hunting each other?  I don’t want to live in a world like this.  I
won’t
live in a world without-”

She broke off and turned her back on them, taking her bowl and spoon to the sink, an automatic gesture that gave her shaking hands something to do.  Standing there, she closed her eyes, groping her way forward.  There had to be another answer.  Had to be.

A preternatural calm settled around her.  She turned to face the three of them, her face frozen, her eyes burning and dry as dust.  “If there’s nothing more you can do for her, Macy and I will head to the cabin this afternoon.  Piper is probably already there.”

They exchanged glances again, Rowan’s lips parted to speak, and Naomi let slip control of what was raging inside her. 

“Don’t,” she snarled.  Jack and Layla both took a staggering step back.  Beside her, Hades seemed to expand, bristling to his full height, his broad chest ripping with a growl that pitched and rolled with violence.  She reveled in her fury, in his fury, in the power of it to hold back the grief that would stop her heart.  “Don’t say a word, any of you.  It’s done.”

She left the kitchen on numb legs, the only spot of feeling in her body the bright flame of rage that consumed her chest.  Verity looked up at her approach.  She stood, still holding Macy’s hand. 

“Thank you for letting us talk.  Your daughter will be fine.”  She reached out and laced her fingers with Naomi’s.  “You’ll both be fine.”

Naomi blinked in shock.  For just a moment, it seemed as if they were surrounded by beings so beautiful, they hurt her eyes to look at.  Verity released her hand, she blinked again, and the impression was gone.

An impish smile, a brush of her fingertips on Macy’s cheek, and Verity turned and headed for the exit.  She stopped a few steps shy of the door and turned back.  “Oh, I almost forgot!  Scott says the duct tape was perfect.”

She could not have heard that correctly.  “Excuse me?”

“Scott.  He loved the duct tape.  It made him laugh, and he says he knew then that you would do whatever you had to do, improvise however you had to, in order to survive.”  Verity beamed at her.  “He’s so very proud of you.”

Naomi’s legs went out from under her.  She collapsed on the end of Macy’s cot, deaf and blind to everything around her.  Old, rational thought processes kicked in first:  How could she possibly have known that?  No one knew about the duct tape she’d used to secure Scott’s makeshift shroud, no one but her.  Well, and Scott.  And now Verity.

He was proud of her.  Why that, of all things, should break her wide open, she could not say.  She curled up next to Macy and sobbed.  So afraid, she’d been so afraid she was inadequate to the task, doing the wrong things, failing to protect her daughter, failing at everything in this new world she was so ill-equipped to navigate.  Scott was proud of her.  Validation from beyond the grave.  Her sobs dissolved into hiccupping laughter.  He had promised her, over and over, that he’d always be there for her.  The man certainly knew how to keep a promise.

Gradually, her sobs subsided and she returned to awareness to feel Macy stroking her hair, Hades curled in the curve of her legs, Persephone tucked against her chest.  She drifted in a twilight between sleep and wakefulness for a long time, resting deeply, permitting her mind to float on the soft, surface currents of silence and physical comfort.  Occasionally she was aware of a muffled noise from the kitchen, but Jack and Layla kept their distance, and Rowan intruded only to change Macy’s IV bag.

Hours had passed when she was roused by a need for the bathroom.  Macy was sleeping again, and Naomi scrutinized her in the dim light.  She looked better.  She really did.  Her skin was less gray, and her eyes didn’t seem as sunken.  Moving as gently as her stiff joints would allow, she extricated herself from her softly snoring dogs and shuffled to the bathroom, taking a moment when she was finished to wash her face with deliciously warm water and restore some order to her crooked ponytail.

When she returned, Macy was awake and Rowan was at her side.  They both looked up at Naomi’s approach, and Macy made a disgusted face.  “She had me use a bedpan, Mama!  So gross!”

Naomi was sure her face cracked when she forced it to smile.  “Gross for you?  What about Rowan?”

“Just part of my glamorous job.”  Rowan stood up, holding said bedpan with a towel draped over it.  “I’ll go take care of this.  When I come back, we’ll take out the IV.  That she’s
urinating tells us we’ve brought her body back to a hydrated state.”

Naomi’s head came up, and she searched Rowan’s eyes for some encouragement, some hope.  Rowan met her gaze steadily, and shook her head.

              Well.  She was entitled to her opinion, but medical professionals could be wrong.  Macy had proved that already.  Naomi knelt by her side. 

“When Rowan’s done, we’ll get around and head to the cabin.  I’d like to get there before dark.”  She licked her thumb and gently rubbed Macy’s grubby cheek.  “You can take a bath in the tub by the fireplace, if you’re feeling up to it.  I’ll bet Piper’s already there, waiting for us.”

              Macy gazed at her, something deep and unknowable moving in her eyes.  “Okay, Mama.  I’m ready.”

             
She left both dogs with Macy, silently commanding them to
stay. 
While they had all slept, Martin had returned with the kids from Cascade.  They were both asleep on cots at the far end of the multi-purpose room, an older woman Naomi hadn’t met seated between them, reading.  She looked up when Naomi stopped in front of her, and nodded a greeting.