Bedlam Read online

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  Sunny

  “Here you are. Home sweet home.” Topher parked his car in front of the two-story motel across the street from city hall.

  From the back seat, Ever giggled. She’d taken a fancy to the young soldier, especially after he fussed over Fitzwilliam. “Look, Fitzwilliam. Home sweet home,” she repeated, holding the cat up to the window.

  The meeting between Kyle and Marcus Havoc must have gone well, because his men received a call to drive us into town and help us move into the motel. We were assigned four rooms on the ground floor. Sara and Lori would share a room, Rocco and J.R., too. Mrs. B. and Ever were assigned a room next to the one I’d share with Kyle.

  Mrs. B. sweet-talked Topher into fetching her boxes from the back of Kyle’s truck. She and Ever spread pretty quilts on their beds and scattered pottery figures, books, and games around the room, lending the space a homey air that my unadorned room totally lacked. I didn’t give two figs—as Grandma used to say—about the plain décor. I’d happily share a mud hut with Kyle. We had a queen-size bed under the plaid polyester spread, porta-potties in the parking lot, and a door that locked. I was good.

  Twenty minutes after we arrived at the motel, Kyle and J.R. joined us.

  “We’re meeting Havoc and his lieutenants for dinner at six,” Kyle said after he shut the door to our room. “They have only one doctor here, so he’s especially interested in talking to Sara and Rocco about expanding their clinic.” Kyle peeled back the bedspread—he remembered my squeamishness—and patted the blanket. “Sit with me.”

  I took a seat then turned to face him. “What did he say about Finn?”

  Kyle shoved a hand through his hair. “He said a lot. Bottom line, he’s not going to leave his man in enemy hands. The rescue is on. We’ll talk more about it tonight.”

  “Good. The sooner the better.”

  The notion of returning to Boise, of putting ourselves back in Elliot Allsop’s crosshairs, terrified me, but not as much as the prospect of abandoning Finn. If we played it safe, if we left him to his fate, I’d wake up every morning for the rest of my life haunted by guilt. You’re a chickenshit. That’s what I’d think every time I looked in a mirror. Who could live with that?

  Kyle had risen to the occasion during the past months. He’d fought a cult leader and the Wilcox Brigade in order to protect his friends. He’d understand better than anybody why I had to step outside my comfort zone and do my part.

  “I want to talk to you about something.” Kyle brushed his knuckles over my cheek then pushed a strand of hair behind my ear. His expression wistful, he gently touched a diamond earring. “I remember your eighteenth birthday party, when your parents gave you these earrings.”

  “And you and Jake went together on a gift and bought new tires for Daisy.” I smiled.

  “We weren’t going to have you driving around town on bald tires,” he said.

  “You two always watched out for me,” I said. “You were a pain in the ass sometimes, but I hope Jake knew how much I—” I stopped, pain stabbing through my chest, Jake’s loss hitting me afresh.

  Strong fingers cupped my nape, and Kyle pressed his forehead against mine. “He knew, Sunny. He knew. And he was trying hard to get home to you all when he got sick.”

  I stilled, remembering Kyle’s description of the night my brother died. “It was here, wasn’t it?” I asked in a muted tone. How had I not made the association before? “He died in Pendleton.”

  “Yeah, he did.” Kyle pulled his head back, his hazel eyes scanning my face. “I was wondering if you’d like to see Jake and Ali’s grave. We’re heading to Boise tomorrow. I plan to make it back, but if something goes wrong, this could be my only chance to show you where I buried your brother. Unless it would be too hard for you, which I’d totally understand.”

  He was right. We had to be real. We might not make it back from Boise. If I wanted to see Jake and Ali’s grave, this was the time. “It’s not too much. Let’s do it,” I said. “Let’s go right now.”

  “All right.” He pressed his lips against mine, a kiss more tender than passionate, and one imbued with a sense of shared loss.

  We found Ever playing cards with Sara and Rocco while Mrs. B. and Lori napped.

  “Play five-card draw with us,” Ever begged, tugging on Kyle’s hand.

  “Sorry, sweet pea.” Looked like Finn’s nickname for the little girl had been universally adopted. “Sunny and I have an errand to run. We’ll be back before you know it.”

  Hand in hand, Kyle and I walked to the truck. We drove north, crossed the Umatilla River, and headed into a posh neighborhood overlooking the city.

  Glancing at Kyle, I drew in a breath and found the courage to ask the question that I’d shoved to the back of my mind for a long time. “What was it like that night? Did they suffer?”

  “It happened really fast,” Kyle said. “That was a blessing. Sometimes people linger for days. Their fever spikes and they’re out of their heads. Then the fever drops and they’re coherent and you think that maybe… just maybe… they’re beating it.”

  “Like Miles?” I guessed.

  “Yeah. Like Miles.” Kyle fell silent for a moment, scowling, as if forcing himself to focus on my question. “Jake and Ali got sick during the drive from Portland. They were feverish and sleepy. They dozed until we got to the big house. I got them inside and in bed. They were able to drink a little ginger ale, take some pain pills. They fell asleep and they never woke up the next morning. It was horrible, but I know now that it could have been so much worse.”

  Images unspooled before my mind’s eye as I imagined the events. My strapping big brother and his sweetheart of a girlfriend laid low by an implacable virus. Kyle in despair, helpless to change the outcome.

  I rested my hand on Kyle’s knee. “I know that you did everything you could to help them. I’m so glad that you were with them, that they didn’t die alone.”

  He met my eyes, his face bleak. “That’s just the thing, Sunny. I’m not sure I did everything that I could. Kenzie and I were able to get Miles’s temperature down by putting him in a cold bath. He rallied for a while. It never occurred to me to try to lower Jake and Ali’s fevers that way. If it had, maybe it would have made a difference.”

  Crap. He’d been carrying this guilt, too? I turned and faced him square on. “Did it make a difference for Miles?”

  “No,” he admitted. “Not in the long run.”

  “So cut it out with the maybes. You did the very best you could to save them, and I’ll be grateful for the rest of my life that you were there.”

  “But—”

  I laid fingers across his lips, cutting off his protests. “Enough, Kyle. Let it go.”

  He opened his mouth, as if to argue, then snapped it shut. We drove in silence the rest of the way. Kyle pulled into the driveway of a large, once upscale house. Shattered glass from broken windows and household items abandoned on the overgrown lawn gave it a derelict appearance.

  “Mrs. Malcolm lived in an apartment over the garage. She rented out the big house for family vacations and corporate retreats,” he said.

  The door to the big house stood wide open.

  “Do you want to see the room where they died?” Kyle asked.

  Call me a masochist, but I did. I wasn’t there the night Jake and Ali died, but somehow it felt right to see the place where it happened, as if I could ease their souls by accompanying them on their last journey, bearing witness even at a distance to what happened. Maybe it defied logic, but it made sense to me.

  “I do want to see it,” I replied.

  Kyle and I picked our way to the front door. We stepped around a small flat-screen TV and a laptop, the same type of items looters abandoned in Boise. While ransacking a place people must have loaded their arms with high-value items from the old world, only to realize that those things were worthless in the new.

  Pendleton was supposed to be safe, occupied by survivors who had gathere
d together under Havoc’s banner, still Kyle’s hand automatically went to the gun the guards had returned to him.

  “I’ll go first,” he said, stepping inside the house. Kyle cocked his head, listening, then led the way through a grand dining room, past a table that could easily seat twelve, into the large kitchen. The cupboards had been stripped bare of foodstuffs, and the walk-in pantry was empty.

  “The pantry was stuffed to the rafters with food,” Kyle said, hands on his hips as he surveyed the room. “Mrs. Malcolm used to charge visitors five dollars for a can of soup. I filled my backpack with crackers and nuts and cans of soda when I left.” He pointed at a piece of paper. “I left that note, telling Mrs. Malcolm that my dad would pay for what I took. Feels surreal that it’s still here.” Straightening his shoulders, Kyle held out his hand. “Come on. I’ll show you the bedroom.”

  We walked down a short hall, stopping outside a closed door. He hesitated for just a few seconds before pushing it open. We stepped into a dark, musty bedroom. Kyle crossed over to a window and pushed aside the curtains. Dust motes floated in the light that fell across a rumpled king-size bed. Cans of ginger ale and lemon-lime soda sat on the nightstands. The blankets lay in a heap at the foot of the bed. Only stained sheets and pillows covered the mattress, pillows still bearing the indentations of Jake and Ali’s heads.

  I swallowed.

  “It’s just like I left it,” Kyle said. He pointed to an overstuffed chair positioned at an angle near the head of the bed. “I pulled that chair up to the side of the bed so I could hold Ali’s hand while she fell asleep.” He turned to me, his expression tight. “I’ve never told anybody this, but Ali hallucinated that night. She thought I was Jake. I went along with it. Called her ladybug, just like Jake did. I told her I loved her.”

  “Oh, Kyle.” I slid both arms around his waist and buried my face in his neck. “You helped Ali. You made it easier for her to pass. Jake would’ve thanked you if he could.” Dear God, Kyle was worried that coming here would be too much for me. I should’ve considered that revisiting that night would be too hard for him. “Let’s go, baby. You’ve done enough.”

  He pulled back. “I’d rather see it through, unless you need to stop.”

  “I’m okay.”

  “All right. Let’s go.”

  French doors led to a brick patio overlooking what was once a garden. Straight ahead, miniature boxwood formed a complex knot, like something out of an Elizabethan garden. White pebbles filled the lines between the small bushes. A summer without water left the boxwood half-dead and brittle, but I could still make out the convoluted pattern of the knot.

  “The garden was Mrs. Malcolm’s pride and joy,” Kyle said. “It used to be beautiful.” I followed Kyle down a path toward the roses. In September, rosebushes typically were spattered with blossoms. The rosebushes here had suffered from the same neglect as the boxwood; they were parched and crispy. Not a flower in sight. Just past the roses, near a small ornamental tree, I spied a mound of earth. I glanced at Kyle and he bobbed his head. That was it. My brother’s final resting place.

  I took Kyle’s hand as we approached the grave.

  “I buried them deep, so, you know...” His voice trailed off and I squeezed his hand.

  He’d piled dirt high over the grave, then tamped it flat. Instead of a traditional cross to mark their resting place, he’d spelled out their names with white pebbles from the knot garden. Jake. Ali. A heart.

  My throat constricted and I whirled, hugging him tight. I’d given my heart to a good man. Whatever the future brought, I could face it if I had him at my side. I swallowed twice before I found my voice. “You did good. Thank you.”

  Arms wrapped around each other, we stumbled back to the truck and drove in silence to the motel. In the parking lot, Kyle killed the engine, turned toward me, and hauled me close. His lips sought mine in a kiss that morphed from gentle to scorching. Desire sparked through every atom of my body, zinging from my lips to my breasts to my sex. I closed my fists in his hair and moaned, molding my body against his. He bit my lower lip, and I jerked my head back, panting.

  Where did this sudden onslaught of lust come from? What were we doing? No way we’d give into temptation and maul each other in a motel parking lot. Not with—

  The door to room 107 popped open, and Ever stuck her head out. She waved, her face alight with excitement. Kyle groaned, then laughed softly.

  “Rain check?” I said through lips that still tingled from his kiss.

  “Yeah. Rain check.”

  He opened the driver’s side door and hopped out of the truck. Ever rushed toward him, jabbering a mile a minute about the card game. Smiling wide, he swung her into the air.

  My ovaries exploded. I’d heard friends say that when ogling a particularly hot guy, but I always thought the phrase was kind of silly. Until now. Watching the man I love treat Ever with such affectionate care made all my girl parts sing.

  Happiness has always come easily to me, almost as if it’s my birthright. That’s why my parents called me Sunny instead of my given name, Alexandra. Dad called me his little ray of sunshine. I’m hardwired for happy.

  Yet only a week ago, I was going through the motions, determined to be useful, to be grateful for everything I still had, but hollowed out inside. True joy, genuine happiness, had withered and died along with the old world. And now? I’d returned to default. My fundamental nature reasserted itself. I was so happy, and it was all because of the miraculous return of the man who was nodding patiently at an excited little girl.

  “Sunny, come on!” Ever yelled. “Kyle says we have time to play a round of poker before dinner.”

  Smiling at the pair, I climbed out of the truck. “I should warn you, my mom taught me how to play poker. I’m good. Just ask Mrs. B. She lost a box of cookies to me once on a bet.”

  Ever gasped. “You took Mrs. B.’s cookies?”

  “I brought them back a few days later.” I raised a finger to my lips. “Shhh. Don’t tell.”

  I met Kyle’s eyes.

  “Rain check,” he mouthed the words.

  Oh yeah. Rain check.

  TWENTY-EIGHT

  Kyle

  “What is she doing?” Marcus Havoc glanced toward Mrs. B., who had walked off into the library stacks, pink reading glasses balanced on the end of her nose and a flashlight in her hand. “She’s muttering to herself.”

  “That’s never a good sign.” Sunny shook her head. “Mrs. B. is a retired librarian. She’s probably checking out the condition of the library. God help anybody who’s messed with the books. She’ll give them what for.”

  Havoc’s lips quirked. Mrs. B. had given him what for before dinner when he’d gallantly extended an arm and offered to escort her to the dining table. Mrs. B. might play the helpless old lady card when it suited her, but she chafed when treated like one.

  “Young man, I was hell on wheels when I was your age,” she said. She poked him in the chest. “You wouldn’t have been able to keep up with me. I don’t need help walking across the room.” Over Havoc’s shoulder, Rachel grinned.

  I sense a mint in Mrs. B.’s future.

  J.R. and Lori had stayed with Ever while the rest of us joined Havoc and his lieutenants. After a dinner of boxed macaroni and cheese and canned green beans, we gathered in what was clearly a rec center. A ping-pong table sat in one corner of another large conference room, a piano in the other. Four sofas had been dragged together to form a sort of conversation pit. Mrs. B. wandered off to inspect the library while the rest of us took seats on the sofas. Rachel passed around a bowl full of snack sized candy bars. Sunny took two peanut butter cups.

  “Tell me about the Haven,” Marcus said to Sara. He’d been eyeing the pretty doctor throughout dinner, and I’d caught her looking at him more than once. For the next fifteen minutes, they sat together on a sofa while she filled him in on the origin and operations of the organization she founded.

  “We have something like that here, run by on
e of my lieutenants, Thanh.” He pointed to a dark-haired young man on the opposite sofa. “Thanh sends out gophers—”

  “Excuse me, did you say gophers?” Sara frowned.

  “What you call scavengers,” Thanh said. “People who go-for this or go-for that. Food, meds, household supplies, whatever we need. We use a church north of the river as a distribution center. The medical clinic is next door.”

  “I’d like you and Rocco to work at our clinic,” Marcus continued. “We have a veterinarian running the place. Great guy, but we could use your expertise.”

  “We’d be happy to help,” Rocco said.

  Marcus studied the big man for a moment, clearly flummoxed by a baby nurse who looked like an MMA fighter. “Obstetric nurse, huh?”

  “Yep,” Rocco said easily, unrattled by the raised eyebrows. “I love taking care of the babies.”

  Marcus shrugged, then pointed to a sandy-haired man of about forty who was seated next to Thanh. “That’s Justin Mrachek. He taught biology at a high school in Salem and served with the Oregon National Guard. He’s in charge of operations, sanitation, and water.”

  “How you doing?” Justin lifted a hand.

  “How many people are in Pendleton?” Sara asked.

  “About seventy after the flu,” Marcus said. “Almost a thousand now. We’re getting the word out that we provide a safe haven for survivors. That I’m raising an army to fight the Allsops. People have been trickling in for the past few months.”

  “Do you think Allsop has sent spies?” I asked. It made sense that he’d infiltrate Havoc’s camp the way Havoc had infiltrated his.

  “I’m sure he has,” Marcus said, settling back and swinging his black boots onto a battered coffee table. “Rachel runs security and keeps an eye on all the new people. She’s sniffed out a couple of Allsop’s agents.”

  “I can smell a line of bullshit a mile away.” Rachel sat on Havoc’s other side. She mimicked Marcus and planted her red canvas shoes on the table. She had to be a good foot shorter than the major, so the edge was as far as her legs could reach.