Siege (13 page)

She reached over and grabbed Blanche’s fancy gun and pivoted on her heal to take aim at Ray and Brewster. But Brewster was unconscious and Ray was moving toward Juan.

“Stay away from him!” Jenni’s voice sounded faint and hoarse to her own ears.

“He’s shot...I...I...” Roy faltered.

Jenni was crying, her tears hot on her face. She stumbled forward, her head throbbing. “Leave him alone!”

She regained consciousness after Blanche had shot her own husband. Remaining limp, Jenni had waited for the right moment to try to escape. Keeping her eyes slitted and watching through her hair, she had seen Juan get shot. It was then in a fit of anger and desperation that she had made her move.

Her head still hurt where she had rammed it into Brewster’s nose. In fact, her head felt huge and swollen and when she walked, she swayed. Blanche had nailed her pretty hard.

Juan looked so still where he lay slumped against the wall. Blood was pooling around his body and his shirt was stained red. Ray stood a few feet from him, looking unsure. Though he had a sidearm at his side, he made no move for it. Jenni staggered to Juan’s side. Falling to her knees, she whispered to him in Spanish.

Juan was barely able to lift his head. “Loca,” he barely managed to say. Pointing the gun at Ray, Jenni struggled to get her sweater off.

“Look, let me go get help,” Ray said finally.

“Shut up!”

Juan’s hand feebly touched her leg and she looked at him, tears in her eyes, struggling to think straight.

“I’ll go get help,” Ray said again. “Look, I didn’t think Blanche would pull this shit. Let me go get help!”

Juan moaned and Jenni stroked his hair, trying to calm him. “Okay, go!

Go!”

Ray nodded and ran toward the door that would lead to the construction site.

Once he was gone, Jenni put the gun down and quickly removed her sweater and wadded it up. The wound was ugly and bleeding hard on the left side of his chest. Jenni didn’t even want to think about the damage the bullet may have done. Pressing her sweater against the wound, she tried to staunch the bleeding.

“Tengo frio,” Juan whispered.

“We’ll get you somewhere warm,” Jenni promised. She stroked his hair and lay kisses on his clammy brow.

“I...always...thought...she was...a stupid...bitch...” Juan muttered, and tried to smile.

“Shh...don’t worry about her. I beat the hell out of her. No one messes with my man,” Jenni answered.

“That’s...my...Loca...” Juan smiled, but he looked too pale and his eyes were growing glassy.

Jenni could feel his blood, hot against her flesh, soaking into the sweater. She looked toward the door and knew Ray wasn’t coming with help. That was when she began to scream.

* * * * *

There were moments that would be forever seared into the memories of those who lived and worked in the fort. The terror of the first day, the raising of the first wall, the battle against the horde of zombies from the school, and countless others. But one that would haunt those that survived the coming terrors was the vision of Jenni, covered in blood, dragging Juan into the winter sunlight that cold morning. Jenni would always remember the terror that she was losing the love of her life. But she would also remember how her screams brought the fort members running to help her.

And for some reason, until her last day on earth, she remembered the color of the white winter sky and the single bird flying over head, riding the cold winds.

1. Eyes I Dare Not Meet In Dreams

Travis couldn’t bear to look at Jenni. As she was guided into the hotel, he thought of the T.S. Eliot poem “The Hollow Men.” The line that came to him was: “eyes I dare not meet in dreams.” He had seen the utter hollowness in Jenni’s eyes when Katie had helped her into the hotel, and he had gone cold inside. She had looked almost as lifeless as Juan. Through the doorway, he could see Katie and Rosie gently cleaning and bandaging Jenni’s hands. Jenni’s hair was covering her face; her shoulders shook as she sobbed.

The lobby was loud with voices as word got around about what had happened in the garage. Nerit and her people were looking for Ray while Bill had Blanche locked away. The bitch was unconscious, but alive despite the incredible beating Jenni had given her. Travis hadn’t even recognized Blanche when they had carried her in to the hotel. Travis felt sick to the pit of his stomach as he looked at the long line of blood donors. Charlotte was working feverishly to save Juan with Belinda assisting her. Brewster was in another room with Peggy and Stacey trying to clean up his shattered nose. The Reverend was leading a prayer vigil nearby. He wasn’t sure how bad off Juan was, but he knew the fort did not have the medical facilities needed to save his life.

Travis tried to remember how did the T. S. Elliot poem ended. Didn’t Stephen King quote it in one of his books?

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

This is the way the world ends

Not with a bang but a whimper

The fort was abuzz with people talking about Blanche being the Vigilante. It was a consensus that she must have had help, but that she was the mastermind. Case closed.

Travis rubbed his brow and looked up as Ken rushed up to him. “Did you find Ray?”

“No. And Calhoun is gone, too. We can’t find him anywhere. He was supposed to help with some wiring today and never showed up. Juan sent me to find him right before that bitch shot him,” Ken answered. His eyes widened and he pressed one hand to his throat. “Shit, Travis, think she offed him? Ed said Calhoun was acting weird this morning. He was all muttering stuff about the Whore of Babylon right before that biker guy left.”

Travis shook his head, exhaling slowly, trying to keep calm. “Keep looking. He’s a wily, old man. He could be anywhere. I can’t see Blanche and her goons taking him out that easily.”

“Yeah, but she hated his guts,” Ken said, tears glimmering in his dark eyes. “Yesterday, Calhoun stepped on her boots, and she shoved him into the wall. She’s a psycho bitch. I refused to do her hair because she’s so mean!”

Travis rubbed his brow slowly. “Just keep looking. Hopefully, we’ll find him and Ray and figure out what the hell is really going on.”

Katarina strode by, her rifle slung casually in her arms, as Ken departed into the crowd. She just merely shook her head at Travis as she passed and moved through the crowd on her way to another part of the building. Curtis, looking nervous and very young, appeared next to him. “I’m hearing he’s at death’s door.”

“Yeah,” Travis said softly. How where you supposed to react when your best friend was dying? He wasn’t sure. He just felt strangely numb, yet angry.

“I can’t believe it was Blanche and her goons all along. Guess we should have seen it?” Curtis shook his head. “It’s kinda obvious now. She’s one messed up bitch. Always been a mean one.”

Travis sighed and rubbed his face again. “Yeah, I suppose. But everyone just thought she was a spoiled bitch...not a dangerous one.”

With a nod of his head, Curtis agreed. “What are we going to do with her and Brewster? And Ray if we find him?”

“I have no fucking clue,” Travis answered.

One of the older black women, who’s name eluded Travis, stepped out of the makeshift clinic and motioned for the next person in line. They were using a lot of blood donors to try to save Juan.

The crowd parted automatically for Nerit as she moved toward Travis. He noted her slight limp, but knew better than to ask about it. Nerit’s yellowish white hair was in a tight bun on her head and she looked fierce.

“No sign of Ray. I suspect he went over the wall. Dixon says he swore he heard a car start up in the distance. I have a feeling this little group had some contingency plans.”

“Dammit,” Travis murmured.

“We should send out patrols then! Round his ass back up.” Curtis looked fierce and very bloodthirsty. His hands were clutched tightly at his side and he kept pivoting back and forth on the balls of his feet with agitation.

“Won’t do us any good, will it?” Nerit’s gaze was cold. “We’ll just set his ass back outside the wall again.”

“But we need answers! A confession!”

“We have Blanche and Brewster. I think that is sufficient.”

Travis looked over at the Reverend and his prayer group. “Nothing is sufficient anymore,” he said bitterly.

“We gotta go after him and find out what was going on!”

“Curtis, it’s obvious what was going on. Blanche wanted her damn Hummer back.” Travis shook his head. “And she was stupid and crazy enough to kill for it.”

“It was more than that, Travis,” Nerit said in a low voice. “It was a grandiose move on her part to make a point.”

“And what was her damn point, Nerit? That the Hummer was hers?”

Travis glared at Nerit, trying not to direct his anger at her and failing. Nerit shrugged. “She is clearly not sane. And how can we anticipate or understand the actions of the insane?”

Travis rubbed his face with both hands, growling with frustration. “I should have given them the damn Hummer!”

“It may not have satisfied her, Travis. Maybe this is all about revenge for not treating her as she believed she should be.”

“She was just a freaking beauty queen,” Curtis exclaimed. “Who happened to marry a rich guy! She weren’t no damn Queen of England.”

“All this arguing is pointless. Juan is dying. Ray is missing. Calhoun is nowhere to be found. There are two dead men in the garage. And that bitch is unconscious. And none of this makes a bit of freakin’ sense!”

Travis whirled on his heel and stalked off. He didn’t want to talk about any of this anymore. He didn’t even want to deal with it anymore, but he had to. For Juan’s sake.

He walked into the room where Jenni sat trembling, sobbing, and whispering to Rosie in Spanish. Katie stood up and came to him. He allowed himself a brief moment of comfort in her arms.

“We can’t find, Ray,” Travis told her. “Or Calhoun.”

Katie frowned. “Calhoun? I don’t--”

“Ken thinks Blanche did away with him. Maybe she did. I don’t know. This is so fucked up.”

Jenni looked up, her lips trembling. “Is Juan...is he...”

“They’re still working on him,” Travis answered.

Rosie looked pale and her mouth was clenched shut. She and Jenni were holding hands, united in their fear and grief. “My son is strong. He’ll come through.”

“I have no doubt that Juan is determined to live,” Travis answered. Jack was under Jenni’s chair, his sad eyes looking at all the humans. Jason was on guard duty and Jack had come to be with Jenni. It was almost as if he knew she needed him. Travis leaned down and petted the dog’s head.

Charlotte entered the room, covered in blood, looking tired. Letting out a desperate, horrified gasp, Rosie grabbed Jenni in her arms. Both women looked on the verge of collapse.

Travis straightened and reached for Katie’s hand. She clutched it tightly. Travis forced the words out. “How is he?”

Charlotte let out a long sigh. “Stabilized. For now. We actually stopped the bleeding and have him on transfusions. I have some ER experience from my nursing days and I managed to get him stable. The bullet is still in him and it definitely collapsed a lung. I used an empty pen as a tube to get it re-inflated, and Belinda is manually pumping air into his lungs. I have Peggy looking for an oxygen tank she swears she has in storage. He has lost a lot of blood, and I don’t know what other damage is in there.”

“Is he going to live?” Rosie whispered.

Charlotte licked her lips, then said, “I did my best with what I have. But the bullet is still in there and there is risk of infection. He’s also in shock and we’re treating him for that.”

Jenni pulled away from Rosie. “I need to go to him. He needs me.”

There was a moment when Travis thought Charlotte would deny Jenni, but then she nodded. “He probably does. Just don’t get too hysterical in there. Keep it calm. Keep it soft. Encourage him to fight. He’s not conscious, but he may hear you.”

Rosie and Jenni held each other hands tightly as they went into the next room where Juan lay. Jack followed to the door and whimpered when the door shut, cutting him off. Katie moved to comfort the dog as Travis looked at Charlotte.

“What’s up for real?”

“I need surgical tools and resources we don’t have,” Charlotte answered truthfully. “I need to get that bullet out. I need equipment to monitor him and keep him alive. I need medications to fight infections.”

Travis nodded. “Okay, get me a list. We’ll get it.”

“Travis?” Katie’s voice sounded frightened.

Charlotte blinked. “You realize the hospitals are death traps.”

“There is a small hospital about fifty miles from here. Real small. It’s a possibility. It’ll be volunteer only”

Katie stood up, looking fearful. “Travis, you can’t go.”

“Why not?” His voice sounded harsher than he meant it to be.

“The fort needs you to be our leader,” she answered. She ran her hand over her belly. “And the baby and I need you.”

Sitting down hard in a chair, he covered his face. He felt tears on his cheeks, and he whispered, “I can’t just sit here.”

“Katie is right. You’re not the only one who cares about Juan.” Charlotte looked weary as well as anxious. “We can’t afford to lose our leader.”

“Some leader. It’s my fault this happened.”

“Travis, no!” Katie moved toward him, reaching out to comfort him, but he pushed her hand away.

“No, it is my fault. I should have realized what was going on with those two. If I had given them that damned Hummer-”

It was then Bill entered the room, interrupting. “Travis, the bitch is awake. Want to be there when I question her?”

Travis stood up slowly. “Yeah. I do.” He kissed Katie and she wiped his tears away. He regretted pushing her hand away and stroked her cheek softly, begging for forgiveness with his eyes. “Let me know if anything changes.”

Katie nodded, her eyes full of love and desperation. “Of course.” She sat back down, Jack at her side.