A House Divided: Book 3 of The Of Sudden Origin Saga Page 24

  Full Face, Patch of Blue, Teeth Broken on Bones and Extra One stood on the docks with the remaining Four of The Five. They watched with certain awe as the spider creature was pushed into the water. The four watchers had been eager to keep playing the game with the giant insect, but Paul had forbidden it. This group of watchers had become invaluable to him. For Full Face in particular, he felt a certain growing affection… perhaps need was a more accurate term. Her pain relief came with something more, a sense of caring and nurture that he was unfamiliar with. Mary had always been about the thrill of life; leaping into the unknown. This one’s feeling, known as the sensation of a mouth filled with food, felt like a mischaracterization. He would rename her. Perhaps, Reumah, after the concubine to Abraham’s brother Nahor. He would lay with this one as soon as things settled down and he had healed enough. That the one known for the feeling of seeing a patch of blue sky on a cloudy day was showing signs of jealousy, only gave more pleasure to Paul. He made sure that the big watcher understood all of the things that he would do to Reumah. Full Face became aware of it too, and she flushed with embarrassment, almost forgetting her duty to keep Paul comfortable. Extra One was put in charge of Paul’s orphaned child and immediately found herself having to stifle her feelings of rage toward the spoiled little one. She didn’t have a nurturing bone in her body. It was almost as though Paul had placed her in charge of the child as a joke. As the boy squirmed in her arms, she could feel their leader’s pleasure in her discomfort. She was by no means to let the scion out of her sight. To make matters worse, a female known as Baby Carrier stood by at all times, her role as the royal nanny reduced to that of a back-up. Baby Carrier had been instructed to always remain near the child, but that was all. Baby Carrier gleefully let Extra One feel her joy over being free of the child. Paul found this amusing as well.

  Doctor Littlefield saw the farmhouse lights first. It had been so long since he’d seen man-made light glow from a window of what appeared to be a peaceful house that he felt hot tears suddenly escape his eyes. A part of him wanted to simply run to it and throw open the door — embrace whoever might be standing there. He tried to keep that part of him in check while still breaking cover.

  Unintelligible voices carried across the night air, mixing with the earthy scent of hay and dung. Two men dressed in uniform briefly came into view, their words unintelligible but the tone filled with agitation. Marlena put a hand on Littlefield’s arm and pulled him back. The uniformed people crossed to the front of the house, the squeak of a spring door and a heavier one closing behind it shutting them off.

  Something about the tone of their conversation had Littlefield stepping back — agreeing with the urgent tug of Marlena’s hand. He was cold, bone tired, the girl too, and every fiber of him wanted to go to the door, beg for a scrap of food and a place to lie down, but something in that tone… Instead, he looked at the barn, nodded at it for Marlena’s benefit.

  “Maybe there. Maybe we can lie down there. Figure this out in the morning after some rest.” His voice had a slur in it — drunk with exhaustion.

  The girl seemed to get the gist of the suggestion and nodded her assent. They remained in the tree line, skirting the edge of the cleared portion of the property until they could get close to the barn. A back door was nailed shut so they kept to the far side of the structure, away from sight of the house. The front had a typical double door with a locked chain through the handles. Littlefield briefly grabbed the lock and held it with frustration. Then he quietly let it lay back against the door. Why is this place locked? What have they got in here? There had been countless instances during Omega when people had herded the infected into locked spaces, desperately hoping for a cure for loved ones. In this barn?

  Marlena looked around anxiously. Though the darkness was nearly complete, they were fully exposed while standing in front of these doors.

  Littlefield shook his head and whispered, “No way that they would do that.”

  “Que?”

  “They wouldn’t lock infected people up. Not after all this time. We need a place to sleep that’s covered.” He grabbed her hand and pulled her around the side that faced away from the house. He could just make out the outline of a ladder laying next to the outer wall. He reached down, attempting to lift it.

  “Que estas haciendo?” asked the girl.

  He pointed up at the cupola. “Up there. Gonna try and look inside. Or at least listen.” He reached down again.

  She grabbed his arm, halting him. “Eso es una locura. Crazy.” She waved her hand out in the direction of the farm house. “Maybe them OK.”

  “Maybe, but I’m not banging on their door in the middle of the night. No knowing what’s happened over here during the past eleven years.”

  Again, Marlena looked at him with general understanding, then pointed at the horse paddock just barely lit by the glow from the house. “Que de ahi? Con las caballos?”

  Inside the barn, Nikki woke to the sound of the voices on the other side of the wall. She whispered to Jon, “You hearing this?”

  He whispered back, “Don’t think it’s Shoremen.”

  Outside, Littlfield said, “Maybe, but I still want to know what’s inside this barn. I’m not introducing us to these people until I know what they are hiding.”

  Inside, Nikki whispered, “We should say something.”

  Jon said sarcastically, “Like what? Hello, we’re prisoners in here?”

  Nikki spoke toward the wall. “Hello, we’re prisoners in here. Be careful of those people in the house.”

  Littlefield and Marlena took a startled step back and stared at the wall. The woman inside spoke again, her voice muffled, “We are captives. The people in the house are dangerous. Do you live near here?”

  The doctor and the girl looked at each other, hoping for a signal from the other on what to do. The woman’s voice came through again. “There’s just two of us in here. I’m Nikki Rosen.” A man’s voice joined her. “I’m Jon Washington. We’re from the United States, up north.”

  Littlefield reflexively grabbed Marlena’s hand at hearing that the US still existed in some fashion. He hesitantly said, “Um, isn’t this the United States?”

  Nikki whispered to Jon, “What?”

  Jon said to the wall, “I don’t know where you’re from, friend, but this area is known as The Shore. The US is a separate place. There are hostilities going on between the two.”

  Outside, Littlefield stepped closer to the barn, putting a hand on the weathered wood. “Hostilities? Why? Why are you locked up?”

  Jon said, “Long story. We could really use your help. Think you could?”

  Marlena clutched his arm for security as Littlefield said, “After you tell me why you are in there, then maybe.”

  Eliza opened her eyes and had to blink a few times to be certain they were actually open — the darkness in the room was that complete. She could hear her own breathing, feel her heart beating through an artery in her neck. Then the voices that had stirred her, came into focus like a weak radio signal suddenly becoming clear.

  Mother!

  I’m, I’m here. I mean, I hear you. She felt a deep sense of love and warmth flood her nerves, filling her chest, a flush shooting up her neck and tingling across the top of her head. Hello Hansel. Hello Gretel. I love you too.

  They’re coming mother.

  Who’re coming? The people who have been hurting us?

  Chosen. Chosen are coming. So many Chosen.

  Eliza felt the flush recede back into her body, replaced by a tightening in the pit in her stomach, the blood leaving her face. In her minds eye, she could feel the Chosen. So many Chosen… and Fiends… so many Fiends. She was lying on a thin mattress on a steel platform. She noted an ache in her back and buttocks, which became suddenly acute. She thought, What can we do. What should we do?

  We want to tell the bad people. The Chosen, they are maybe more dangerous than these bad people.

  She thought about what that meant; Ha
nsel and Gretel were hiding a deeper feeling. There was conflict in their thoughts. They felt a connection with the Chosen — more than the mental one that was unavoidable. The foreboding feeling that she got from the approaching horde made her shiver. She thought, Yes, tell the bad people. I will too. She called out of her cell. “ Hello? Can anyone hear me? I need to talk to someone. Whoever’s in charge. It’s life and death.”

  Littlefield held his ear close to the wall as Nikki and Jon dumped the broad strokes of their ordeal out. Unable to understand, Marlena instead continued to grip his arm and keep an eye out.

  As he listened, Littlefield’s stomach gurgled out a hungry protest. They hadn’t eaten for a day. Between physical exhaustion, an empty belly and lack of sleep, he could feel himself wobble, the sensation starting in his legs and then a dizzy feeling overtaking him. He crouched and sat against the wall, Marlena helping him, and doing the same. Something more than exhaustion and hunger was taking its toll. He didn’t want to accept it — didn’t have the luxury of accepting it.

  He interrupted Jon, who was explaining how he and his partner were shackled and that one of their party had escaped. “Are there listening devices? Cameras in there?”

  Nikki said, “If there were, I think you’d be caught by now.”

  The doctor perked up at that, looking around, causing Marlena to do the same.

  Nikki continued, “I don’t think they planned for all of us. This place isn’t set up as a prison. My guess, it’s more of a research station.”

  Jon said, “Yeah, when they first brought us in, the guards were talking about finally having something to dissect. I’m pretty sure he meant our two companions, the Fiend offspring. The Chosen, as you call them.”

  “Do you have food in there?”

  Jon said, “Uh, I think that Captain Dean’s food might still be untouched. I don’t think they cleared it.”

  Nikki and Jon waited for a response, Jon saying, “You still out there, Doctor?”

  Then they heard a creaking sound of a board being pried at the far end of the barn.

  Lieutenant Silver was still groggy with sleep and pissed off that she’d been aroused. She glanced at the private on lab watch. “Genuine urgency this better be, Private. Not a night of sleep I’ve had in days.”

  As they walked down the stairs to the basement, the private paused, seemingly annoyed that his judgement was being questioned. “She would only say life and death, ma’am. Over and over. Said, someone in charge had to hear.”

  Silver kept walking.

  They stepped into the observation room and she looked at a monitor displaying an infrared image of Eliza sitting up on her bunk, alone in the tiny cell. The lieutenant pressed a button to speak. “This is Lieutenant Silver. What seems to be the problem, ma’am?”

  Eliza’s head turned in the direction of the speaker. She composed herself for a moment. “This is going to sound absurd, but the children that we are traveling with, not Billy, the offspring of the infected, they can communicate with others of their kind.”

  “Established that we have, ma’am. Explain, please, what you mean by life and death?”

  Eliza said, “There’s an army of them here. Just across the bay. The same army that my companions and I escaped from in Nicaragua.”

  “Nicaragua? Ma’am, not making sense you are.”

  Eliza composed herself again, saying, “No, I guess I’m not.” She continued to look at what she hoped was the direction of the speaker. “Can I least have some dim light so I know where to direct this conversation?”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  Two Fronts

  The rear barn door creaked open and Nikki could just make out the silhouette of two humans entering.

  “Hello?” called out Littlefield.

  Jon said, “Down this way, doctor. Midway on the right.”

  It was very dark. The dim bluish light streaming in from the now open back door did little to fill in the blanks. Littlefield and Marlena shuffled their feet as they walked in an effort not to trip on something. When they got to the stalls, Littlefield said, “I’ve got this pretty stout stick that worked on the hasp. Maybe on your cuffs. But first, which way is the food? Marlena can eat something while I try to break you free.”

  As they tried to snap the D-ring off of Jon’s side, the stick broke on the first attempt. Marlena brought Littlefield some food and they stood pondering the situation. They’d already looked around outside for something made of metal, the stick being his best find.

  Nikki said, “OK, what about this? The board flexes a bit. What if I pull and Jon you push with your feet. We shove what’s left of the stick down in the resulting crack? Use it like a fulcrum to snap the board.”

  Jon said, “OK, but I pull. I’ve got the upper body strength.”

  “Says you,” said Nikki.

  With Jon pulling with all his might and Nikki pushing, Marlena standing behind her supporting her back, Littlefield wedged the stick in the crack and pried it open a bit more, shoved the stick in further, pried, shove, pried, everyone groaning, then POW! Like a gunshot, the board broke at the point where the screws went through, leaving Jon and Nikki still shackled together, the wall still between them. The sound was so loud that none of them spoke a word until Littlefield said, “Lets get out of here already.”

  Jon said, “Workin’ on it.” The screws that had held the opposing plates to the board were now loose. He twisted them off as fast as he could.

  The sound of the farmhouse screen door slamming was like another gunshot.

  Jon whispered sharply at the screws, “Come on, Come on.” Nikki reached a hand in to help and he slapped it away, turning the last screw as best he could with sweaty fingers. The plates separated, and though the handcuffs remained on their wrists, they were free. They ran for the open door, leaping like frightened rabbits out into the night air. Flashlights scanned the patchy bits of long dead lawn, the walls of the barn, zeroing in on the escapees. Shots rang out, the surroundings lighting up with the strobing effect.

  Littlefield stopped in surprise as Marlena dropped to the ground behind him. He’d felt something hot and wet splatter across the back of his legs. He turned for her, hoping the injury wasn’t catastrophic. Her face was gone, a bullet having hit the back of her head and carrying it away as it exited. He threw his hands up more as a question of why than surrender. “NO!”

  The butt of a rifle smashed into his chest and he fell onto his butt gasping. A boot followed that, forcing him all the way to the ground.

  Jon and Nikki stopped as well. The lethal situation quite clear; the sudden death of someone who had helped them, a horror. That didn’t keep Jon from losing his shit. He pointed at the dead girl. “You son’s of bitches! That was a teenage girl you just killed!” He held up his hands to ward off a coming blow, but the soldier got him square in the gut, knocking the wind out of him, dropping him to his knees.

  Nikki kept her hands up in submission and was spared a strike. Floodlights lit the whole scene as more people came out of the farmhouse — Silver in the lead. Dietrich was pulling on a robe and was followed by the doctors.

  The bright red open wound that was Marlena’s face was like someone screaming in the center of an otherwise stoic group portrait. It drew everyone’s eyes, whether they wanted to look or not.

  Olsen stepped out of cover behind the sentinel trailer, and after gathering his posture, walked toward the group. “Report, Lieutenant.”

  The situation was obvious to anyone with eyes, but Silver said, “Uh, attempted escape, sir. Unknowns are the dead girl and the man on the ground.”

  Olsen stepped over to Littlefield and lightly kicked the sobbing doctor. “Explain yourself.”

  Littlefield spoke more to himself than in response. “She crossed the whole country! Survived it…the horror…the horror. Every possible…” He looked up at the colonel. “We finally came home.” He pointed west. “We got through all that and you killed her. You killed her.” He reached out to Marl
ena’s splayed out hand, grasped it and began to sob.

  Olsen stared at the ragged and filthy looking man for a moment then turned to Silver while pointing at Nikki. “Lock this one downstairs. Care I don’t if there isn’t room.” Then regarding the doctor, “Clean this one up and put him in interrogation.” He nodded toward the west. “Something big happening out there. This one knows.” Then he pointed at Jon. “Shoot this one. Redundant he is.”

  Jon braced himself as he scanned the soldier’s weapons. Nikki instinctively stepped in front of him, yelling, “Stop! Are you out of your minds?”

  Everyone hesitated. The reluctant soldiers glancing at Jon, then at Olsen. Olsen smiled to himself. “Some things best left to me.” He held his hand out toward Silver, “Sidearm, Lieutenant.”

  She took a step back, her hand covering her holster. “Against the rules of war, sir.”

  Doctor Mitchell said, “He’s not exactly redundant, Colonel.”

  “Asked for your opinion, I did not, Doctor.” He continued to hold his hand out to Silver, demanding, “Sidearm, Lieutenant. Now!”

  Silver’s fist wrapped around the grip, but didn’t draw the weapon.

  Littlefield said, “What’s happened here?” He pointed west. “You’re no better than them.”

  An indignant Doctor Mitchell took a step toward Olsen, “You are an elected leader Councilman, and my opinion matters a great deal. You’re going to get it, like it or not. If immune this man Jon really is, we need him. One subject in this case is not enough. Second, this new captive appears to be in need of immediate medical assistance. He will not be placed in an interrogation situation. Third, I will not have you murder people.” He paused. “At least not right in front of me.”

  Olsen stood firm, his face doing a series of mild contortions as he sorted out the best path forward. He took a step toward Mitchell. “Ripe that is, coming from you, Doctor.” The final word was spoken with pure sarcasm. He poked a finger in Mitchell’s chest and with his other hand, pointed at the basement storm door. “Shall we talk about your faith in the Hippocratic Oath? Shall we speak of Omega?”