Grace Lost (The Grace Series) (7 page)

I woke disoriented and it took me
a moment to realize where I was.  My body ached, especially my hip. 
I sat up and looked at the two men who were set aglow by the soft orange light
from the woodstove.  Boggs tossed my now-dry t-shirt to me, causing me to
blush realizing I was still in just my bra.  Gus had politely averted his
eyes this time.

 “Thanks,” I mumbled. 
“What time is it?”

 Gus looked at his
watch.  “Two o’clock in the morning. 
Just a bit
after.
  Sleep well?”

I didn’t answer, still trying to
orient myself.  The air in the little building felt
warmer
and
not as damp as earlier.  I held the t-shirt in a clump to my
chest, and climbed under the covers while I slipped it over my head and arms.

I crept out from under the thick
sleeping bag, the large shirt coming nearly to my knees.  The guys were
playing a game with a deck of cards they had found.

“Mind if I sit and watch?” I
asked.  I had a strong desire to be next to the warm fire and the two men.

“C’mon over, Zo.
  We saved you some chips,” Boggs said.   He
sounded tired.

I sat cross-legged on the sheep
skin between the two of them, facing the fire.  Gus handed me an unopened
Cherry Coke, and I took it thankfully.  My stomach growled fiercely and my
mouth was dry.  My teeth had sweaters growing on them.  I twisted the
cap and drank eagerly from the plastic bottle.

“Thanks, Gus.”  I set the
bottle down in front of me and reached for the half-empty bag of Doritos. 
I ate several and took another long pull from the Coke before speaking
again.  “Sorry about your uncle.”

“Thanks, Zoe. Me too,” answered
Gus solemnly.  
“Looks like he’d been dead for awhile.
 
Last I talked to him was maybe…six months ago?”

Boggs leaned back against the bean
bag he had claimed.  I tried not to look at his bare chest as light from
the woodstove flickered across his skin.  He reached down and brought the
bottle of tequila that had been on the shelf to his lips.  It was clearly
not as full as it had been when we first arrived.

“Boggs…c’mon.
You don’t need that crap,” I snipped.  Boggs knew I
wasn’t fond of hard alcohol or drugs, both being the reasons for the deaths of
my sister and our parents.  I also knew he held his own recent sorrow
linked to indulging.

He sighed.  “Tonight, Zoe, I
think I do.”

Gus looked at me softly. 
“Zoe, Boggs told me about your folks.  I’m really sorry about what
happened to them. Tonight, though, I think we all just need a break after the
hell we’ve seen today.  We’ll be responsible about it.  Ok, darlin’?”

I wiped a tear away from my eye
and nodded.  I actually understood.  When I was a junior in high
school, my older sister overdosed on cocaine.  My parents had rushed to
get to the hospital. A drunk driver had crashed into their car on the way. 
My mom and dad had died instantly.  My sister, Ruthie, had died while they
were on their way.  I was left alone to grieve the loss of all three of
them. My best friend was away at college, and had only called once.  I
didn’t want to rehash those memories right now. Between those memories and the
horrific events of the day, I could use a drink myself. 

“Ya.
Ok.” I said and reached my hand out for the bottle. 
Boggs handed it to me and watched me drink.  The light amber liquid burned
my throat, but I drank heavily wanting to numb the pain. 

Gus’ hand gently took the bottle
from me.  “Ok, darlin’ that’s enough. 
Gotta keep
our wits about us.”

“Gus, you’re not from around here
are you?” I asked.

“Why do you ask?” he replied.

“You talk funny,” I said without
much enthusiasm.

Gus stretched, and then
answered.  “I moved out here a couple years ago.  I’m from South
Carolina. 
Long story, different life.”

It was pretty clear that Gus
didn’t want to talk about his past in any detail.  I didn’t push for any
more information.

I heard Boggs strike a match and
watched as he held it to the clay pipe that Uncle Chuck had kindly left
behind.  A puff of smoke went up in the air and just as quickly
disappeared as he took a drag, filling his lungs.  He closed his eyes and
laid his head back against the bean bag, holding his breath as long as he
could.  He finally let the sickly sweet smoke escape.  The room
filled with the scent of skunk that pot can mimic, which mingled with the smell
of decay that still clung to our skin and noses.  Boggs passed the pipe to
Gus, who followed the ritual then handed it to me.  Boggs lay back again
and was watching me in a way I had never seen him do before.  Gus watched
me and when he noticed me just staring at the pipe, clueless, he reached into
one of the shoeboxes and produced a pinch of dried weed.

“Hold it to your mouth and I’ll
light it.  Just breathe it in and hold it until you can’t anymore.” 
I did as instructed. The smoke began to fill my lungs, and they protested
loudly in a fit of hacking.  Boggs sat up.

“Jesus, you guys.  Gus, she’s
never done it before.”

Gus chuckled like a school
girl.  “Ya, I could tell.”

Between coughing fits I asked,
“Can I try again?”

“No, you cannot,” asserted
Boggs.  He took the pipe from my hand and relit it for himself. 
After his toke, he relaxed into the bean bag again.

Gus took the pipe from the other
man.  “Here, Zoe.  Just breathe in when I blow it at you,” he
instructed.   He lit it, sucked the smoke into his mouth and blew it
at my face. I inhaled it more easily this way, and held it in my lungs as my
brain numbed and the world around me spun refreshingly slow.  He set the
pipe aside to rest on the shelf while the three of us laid back to enjoy the
warmth of the fire.  I nestled in next to Boggs, my arm against his bare
chest, enjoying the warmth from his body as much as I enjoyed the heat from the
fire.  My head was starting to spin from the alcohol and for the first
time in a long time I felt semi-content.

“You’re hot, Zoe,” mumbled Boggs.

“Uh, thanks?” I said sleepily.

“No, I mean you feel like you’re
feverish,” he clarified.

Gus crawled over to us and I felt
his cool hand touch my forehead.  I slept after that.

When I woke, the fire had died,
leaving the stone room cold and damp.  The beginnings of morning light
filtered in through the two small openings beside the door.  My bare legs
shivered and my head ached.  My throat was scratchy and my eyes dry. 
I lifted my head from Boggs’ chest, where it must have settled as I
slept.  Boggs rolled away from me, forcing me to sit.  The room spun.

“Morning,”
chirped Gus.
  “Hope you don’t mind
I grabbed some cans from the car and have breakfast ready.”

Food.
  The thought of it made my stomach roll in protest
and I groaned.  I had to empty my bladder something awful and what was
left in my stomach from the night before threatened to make an unwelcome
reappearance.  I got up and stumbled toward the door.

Gus caught me before I could reach
my goal.  “Hold on there, darlin’.  No going out without one of
us.”   He looked toward Boggs.  “You need fresh air,
Boggs?  Or do you want me to go?”

“No, it’s ok.  I’ll go
with.  Zoe, come on.”   Boggs stood and walked toward me.

I held my hand over my mouth,
showing urgency.  I ran the rest of the way to the door, unlocked it, and
stepped outside.  The mountain air held a chill and was heavy with
moisture.  Thick fog surrounded us, making the wooded area seem haunted.

“Zoe, keep close.”   He
said quietly.  “Stay in sight, ok?”

“Ya.
  No problem there.”  I leaned over and threw up
violently until it turned to dry heaves. 

Boggs came up behind me.  He
put his hands on my shoulders and lowered his deep voice even more.  “Zoe,
you peed yourself.”

I turned toward him and looked up
at his face.  He felt my forehead with the back of his hand, then felt my
cheek in the same manner.  “You’re burning up, Zo.  Let’s get you
back inside.”

My legs and panties were soaked in
urine.  I hadn’t been able to hold it in while my stomach wretched to be
free of whatever poisons it held.  Vomit splattered my bare feet and legs,
mixing with the mess.  Boggs called out to Gus as the woods spun around
me.

My best friend pulled my t-shirt
over my head and used it to wipe my legs.  He pulled my panties down and
helped me step out of them. I was too sick to care if anyone saw me
naked.   Gus joined us outside.  The thick fog surrounding us
seemed to seep into my head.  I closed my eyes and felt like I was
falling. 

  I heard only fragments of
what Boggs said to Gus.  He sounded panicked. 

“Threw up…looks bloody…pissed
herself…not sure…”

I was too weak to open my
eyes.  I felt someone wrap a towel around me and then cradle me in their
arms.  I heard myself moan softly, and then the dry heaving began again.

Gus’ voice was mixed in at odd intervals
“she looks bad” and “what if she’s turning into…” and “one of us needs to stand
watch.”   I heard Boggs mention my hip.   I realized my leg
was throbbing angrily.  As I drifted into a deep sleep I prayed for the
pain to stop. 

There were moments filled with a
burning fire in my leg, others of ice cold that chilled me to my core. 
Every time I opened my eyes I saw one of my companions sitting beside me, often
holding a wet cloth to my forehead or forcing drops of water into my
mouth.  The water began to taste bitter and I fought to spit it out. 
I became enraged when both the men held me down and forced me to swallow. 
I was too weak to fight back.  Nightmares blended with reality.

My moments of alertness seemed to grow
longer, and each time one of the men was still at my side.  My constant
hot-cold fluxes ebbed and I started to become aware of time again. Boggs’ large
hand was on my forehead and he smiled down at me.

“Welcome back, kid.”

I tried to speak but my throat was
dry.  Boggs helped me sit up part way and handed me a bottle of
water.  I swallowed gingerly, then more deeply, craving the liquid.

“What happened?” I whispered.

Boggs looked serious, and
thoughtful.  “You got sick the morning after we got here.  We were
scared to death it might be this zombie crap.” 
Zombie.
 
Someone had finally said it.  “You were burning up with fever and
hallucinating.  Gus helped me get you inside, and we’ve been forcing
crushed antibiotics down you for two days.”

“Antibiotics?
  Where’d you get them?  And where’s Gus?”

“He’ll be back soon.  He’s
out in the Explorer gathering more firewood.  We found antibiotics and
pain pills in Chuck’s trailer.  It turns out our hitchhiker’s an ex Army
nurse.  We got lucky.  Your hip got infected, Zoe, badly.  He
had to lance it.”  Boggs’ eyes were welling with tears.

“Boggs?
 What’s wrong?”

He sniffled and hung his
head.  “I was so afraid, Zoe. 
Afraid of losing
you.
  Having to hold you down while he cut you like that…”

I used my elbow to sit up a bit
more.  My hip stung.  “C’mon Boggs, you can’t get rid of me that
easy.”

He tried to smile.  “I’m
glad.”

“Thanks for taking care of me,
Adam.”  I hadn’t called him by his first name in a long time.  
He scooted closer to me and held my hand.

“You’re all I have left,
Zo.”  He squeezed my hand in his and I fell asleep again.

When I woke, Gus had
returned.  He had come back with a carload of split wood and some
supplies.  The small woodstove had a cast iron Dutch oven and a skillet on
top and the smell of baked beans and frying bacon pleasantly filled the
air. 

“Morning, Glory,” said Gus.

“Hey,” I said weakly. 
“What’s all this?” I asked, slowly sitting up.

“Breakfast,” answered Boggs. 
“Gus here was kind enough to scavenge a house nearby.”

“By yourself?”
  I addressed Gus, my tone full of concern.

He winked at me.  “Don’t
sweat it.  I’m fine.  No harm done.  Now let’s take a look at
you
.”

 He came over and knelt next
to me and felt my pulse. 
“Much better, darlin’.”
 
He touched my forehead and nodded.  “Good, fever’s down.  But I want
you to keep taking the pills, ok?”  He handed me a large capsule, half
yellow and half brown.  It smelled funny.

“What is it?”  I looked at it
skeptically.

Boggs answered. 
“Just the antibiotic, Zo.”

I put it in my mouth, trusting
Boggs fully.  He handed me a bottle of water and I swallowed the
pill.  Gus brought a plastic bowl full of beans and weenies over to
me.  “Try to eat something, and then we’ll help you get cleaned up. 
I brought one of those camping showers back, and a change of clothes.”