The Book of the Unnamed Midwife (9 page)

Walking for days. Wake up, walk all day. Eat what there is to eat. Lie down in the open and pass out at dusk. Haven’t seen a predator or a squirrel. Only the carrion birds and bugs. Not worried about an animal. Can’t give a shit about people. Too tired.

Walked for two weeks. Very hungry. Came to a road and followed it, probability be damned. Ran into a gas station, not cleaned out. Sat on the floor and ate about sixty-four handi snacks and drank a gallon of some sugary shit that still had a seal on it. Packed up all the jerky and chips and dried apricots my bag would hold. Gave myself another haircut in the bathroom after pulling a dead man off the toilet. Used his body to prop the door open. For light. Everything stinks, but at least I’m not starving anymore. The road signs say there’s a town up ahead. Going for it.

June

Town = McDermitt, apparently. Sort of a town. There’s an airport. Thought very seriously about trying to fly a plane. Terrible idea = die if I did it. But very tempting. Staying in a saloon. Eating a lot of nuts and pretzels = haven’t had good luck. Try houses later this week and see if I can scare up something better.

Turned down a lot of dented cans. Not worth getting sick over. Found dried soup mix, some MREs, and a lot of green beans. It’ll do. In one of the houses, found a note painted on the wall, in huge letters somebody did with a brush.

THE MESSAGE OF CARTER

THE YEAR OF THE DYING

AS SCRIBED BY THE UNNAMED MIDWIFE

HAVE GONE TO CALIFORNIA

TAKING RT 101 SOUTH THROUGH SF TO LA

THE BABY IS ALIVE AND WITH ME

FOLLOW US IF YOU CAN

MORE SIGNS ON THE WAY

CARTER

Stared at that for a long time. The baby is alive. With me. Alive. Carter. Wtf Carter? What if he left with a newborn in the short interim between birth and death? What if he didn’t know?

What if he actually has a live baby?

Upstairs = wreck of a bloody birth, but no body. Crusty scissors on the floor. Everything soaked with blood gone black. The baby is alive and with me. Ok.

Kitchen was bare except for a can of water chestnuts and another of beets. Packed up both and kept moving. Meet Carter = follow him? Take care of the baby? Figure me out?

Don’t know.

Late June

Barely got away that time. Met some people out in the road in McDermitt. I came around the corner and there they were, with hardly a second to react. Hands = free = on my guns= always. Fully dressed and dirty. Five men crouching in the street. Two women on leashes stood, staring. Never forget it as long as I live. As dirty as rescue dogs. Same look in the eye.

* * * * *

“What the fuck?” One man popped up, pulling a gun at his hip. She was just as fast and she had one on him.

A taller man stood up with a machete pulled out smoothly from a strap at his back. “Hey now. Hey now.”

“I don’t want any trouble,” she said loudly. She stared at the leashed women. One was about forty, topless and with a bad implant job. The other was in her twenties, naked, with scabby knees.

The tall guy stepped up to block her view of them. “Neither do we, stranger. Just passing through.”

“Me too,” she said. “Though, I’ll trade if you guys can be cool.”

The tall one put his machete back in its sheath and stepped up with his hand extended like he was gonna sell her a car. “I’m Aaron. These guys are Jimmy, Ethan, Manny, and Chuck.” They nodded to her. She looked around. White. Black. Asian. The rainbow fucking coalition. All bigger than me. One or two guns, lots of knives. One baseball bat that she could see. She sunk inside. She shouldn’t have offered to trade.

Too many. Shouldn’t be here and this is too many.

“I’m Carl.”

“Carl. What have you got to trade?” Aaron smiled a little and advanced on her.

She put her hand out and waited for Manny to holster his gun. She put hers away slowly. “Food. Medicine. A little booze. Stale cigarettes. Medical attention if any of you guys need it.”

“Guns?” That was from Manny.

She shook her head. “Just mine. Guns are hard to find these days. I know where there’s a bunch of antibiotics and basic medical supplies, though.”

The men exchanged a glance. Aaron spoke first. “What have you got?”

“Penicillin. Ampicillin. Erythromycin. Good stuff. Plus a wound care kit.” She waited a beat and watched their faces. “Codeine. Morphine. Fentanyl. Hard stuff.” She had more of it than she would ever use before it expired. She saw a few perk up at the mention of the opiates.

“And what do you want?”

“Your girls.” She said it flatly, without hesitation. They knew what she wanted. They weren’t showing anything else.

Ethan whined at Aaron. “Let him have the old one. Fucking Roxanne. Not Melissa.”

Roxanne, the older one, blanched.

Chains. Fuck me sideways. Jenna was one thing. I can’t walk away from this. Too many of them. Not a hero.

“I want both. Half an hour each, private. For that, you get a selection of everything.”

Aaron smiled a little. “Both is too much. You only need one to get the job done.”

She smiled back at him. “Maybe for you. But I haven’t seen a girl in a long while. I want both. You’ll get them back in one piece.”

Ethan again. “Shit we can find our own drugs. We did before, and this skinny fuck did. We don’t need this.”

“Well, if you’re not interested, I’ll be going.” She shouldered up her bag and made as if to leave.

Aaron took one more step. She was tense all over and trying not to show it. “You alone?”

“Nah.” She said it lightly, trying not to sound scared. “The other guys are back at the base, looking out. We just don’t have any women.”

“You gonna bring the other guys to the party?” He was watching her very closely.

Secure. Totally secure. A little selfish.

“No, fuck them. I don’t want a gang bang.”

“Why don’t you ditch them and come with us, then. We could use another armed man. And we’ve got two girls. You’re a good search man, obviously. You’ve got medical skills? His eyebrows went up.

“Army medic. Iraq. Four years.”

“See? You’d be a good member of our team.”

“Where you headed?” She knew the answer.
 

“South. We heard there was almost no plague death in Central America. Lots more women down there.”

Lots of women. Also milk and honey and the streets are paved with gold.

“Yeah, I heard that too. I like my group though. Thanks.”

“Suit yourself. So where’s this ton of drugs?”

“Back at camp. I’d have to go get it and come back and meet you here. Take me maybe an hour.”

“Alright. See you when you get back.”

She walked away slowly, not wanting to turn her back on them. They were silent while she left. She walked until she knew they couldn’t see her, then ran. She ran around blocks and zigzagged until she almost got lost. She found the saloon again and stood panting, gulping water. She went down into the cellar where she had stowed her pack. She had caught her breath and filled up a bag with a handful of everything. When she came up the ladder, the five men were there, with another guy she hadn’t seen.

Damn it.

 
Aaron looked at her like the devil with a soul to collect. “This is Archie. Our spotter. He was up on a rooftop when you split. Looks like you’re all alone after all.”

She stared him down. “They’re all out raiding,” she said.

Breathe slow, talk low. Don’t look around, stare right at Aaron. I can still get through this.

“Sure they are. So we’re gonna take what we want and then be on our way.”

A few beats of silence while she thought about it. Manny and Archie had guns drawn on her, but the two of them stood almost together and not ten feet away. Nobody else had shown a gun. If she let them get close to her, she knew what would happen. They’d take her guns and pat her down. They’d realize what she was and she’d end up on a leash. They wouldn’t kill her as long as they figured it out first. She held that thought up to the light and examined it.

Nope.

She dropped the bag to the floor and the sound was an anticlimactic thud. On the other side of the bar, inches away, Aaron pulled his machete. She drew both guns and fired, not really seeing, toward where the two armed men had been. She shot Aaron in the face, close up, as he tried to bring the machete down. She flinched back from the spray of blood, stumbling. She missed Chuck and hit his baseball bat, he dropped what was left of it and ran. She fired again and again, making holes in people, aiming without eyes. She hit one of them in the thigh and he went down, screaming. She winged and grazed and cut them up more than anything. Kept it up until nothing moved. The two who had guns had shot at her and missed, but she never knew it. Her ears rang. She went outside, deaf and still holding her guns up. Chuck was out there, trying to drag both women toward a bicycle, but they were both fighting him. He had his back to the door.

“Drop it.”

He looked over his shoulder at her, still holding both leashes. Up closer, she could see they were made of heavy chain with padlocks at the neck. The women looked chafed and sore where the chain rubbed. There was no way they’d get out of them.

“Fuck you.”

“I’m holding the gun, asshole. Drop it.” She cocked back the hammer on her revolver for good measure. Her hands were shaking. It was a punk line. She didn’t know why she said that, why she cocked it. She was going to kill him anyway. She drew it out for no reason.

He turned around and tensed up, to run or pull them in to shield him. She couldn’t tell what his plan was. She shot him in the back of the head with the newer gun. His skull caved in and blood came down between his shoulder blades. He collapsed forward with the chains wrapped around his forearms. Melissa, the younger one, fell back on her ass with the pull on her chain. Roxanne stayed upright, staring at the dead man.