inside, he saw two dried-husks of decomposing bodies on the bed. Quickly he took another step, pressed his back against the door to close it and turned the lock.
Jimmy had seen a lot of death over the years. He became jaded right after the plague because death was everywhere. He helped remove a lot of dead bodies from Independents. The number didn’t compare to a city the size of Denver with its surrounding suburbs, but still, there had been enough.
He found this scene bearable. Dried-husks weren’t slimy.
He walked to the window, where a shaft of light tried to filter in through the dirty windowpane. He pulled on the cord that separated the curtains, allowing at least a little more sunshine access to the room.
Across from the bed a bureau showcased a series of framed photographs. Jimmy first noticed the black- and-white photo of a couple, her smiling in a white wedding dress, him grinning in a military uniform. Another picture, framed in silver, was of the woman, a few years and a different hairstyle later, holding a bald chubby baby. The baby had the father’s grin.
More pictures on the bureau told the rest of the couple’s life story. The son in his own uniform with the United States flag behind him, the son with his own bride, pictures of kids, a blonde girl, her younger brother, the little boy holding a fishing rod, grinning with his Grandpa.
Jimmy touched the top of each frame as he imagined the love and happiness this family shared. There’s something powerful about a completed life, he mused. Memories were made that not even the plague had totally obliterated.
Jimmy wondered if that’s what scared him most. He didn’t feel like his life was complete. If he’d only let Ginger know how he felt earlier, and if they’d given birth to a child, like Mark and Vanessa, then he might be ready. But he knew Vanessa would say there was no way she could leave her child now.
Kids aren’t supposed to die before they reach adulthood. They should be given the opportunity to live a full and satisfied life. They’re supposed to be given the chance to grow up, make mistakes and accomplish enough to leave an imprint of themselves on somebody else at least, if not a legacy for the world to view in awe.
Jimmy felt like he’d spent the past six years waiting to die. “What else could I do?” he asked, shuddering at the sound of his distraught voice in this couple’s tomb.
He spotted a grayed piece of paper on the nightstand next to the man, stared at it for a moment, then unfolded and read the note:
Jimmy placed the note between the couple and made his way to the door. In the hallway, he met Ginger in all her beautiful dustiness.
“What’s wrong?” she asked.
Jimmy realized he was crying. He kissed her dirty cheek. “I have to find a shovel.”
THIRTY-FIVE
Two boys circled the house where Raven was being held captive. Scout crouched behind a rock wall, deciding what to do next as precious seconds passed. The house was perched on a hilltop, with spectacular views all around. A jagged horizon of mountains lay to the west, blanketed in white snow that looked forbidding and insurmountable. Skyscrapers to the south towered above Denver as grim reminders of the lost world. Fields and mostly barren farmland spread out far to the north. East, across a golf course and the same shallow Platte River that winds through Nebraska, was the settlement where Raven had led them to start their search for Catherine.
Given the views, many large-pane windows surrounded the house and huge stones and dark timbers covered the rest of the exterior for that mountain-home look. Evergreens and gray boulders landscaped the hillside and provided concealing cover for Scout’s approach. The house appeared like a grand castle, without the moat to swim or wall to scale. Luckily for Scout, he only needed to slip past two sleepy teenagers.
The boys on patrol passed each other and turned their respective corners again. Scout ran thirty yards uphill before crouching behind a boulder. His legs burned from the short climb and his vision blurred from the thin Colorado air. He heard the boys returning by the shuffle of their feet. Then the footsteps stopped, and Scout held his breath in fear of discovery.
“This sucks,” one said in a stifled yawn. “Nobody’s stupid enough to come out here. I should be in bed dreaming.”
“I know,” said the other in a gravelly voice. He coughed his throat clear. “Great, I think I’m getting sick. How long have we been out here?”
“I don’t know. I was sound asleep when that jackass came in and stuck his big, stinking boot in my face.”
“Are you crazy? Patrick will beat you to death if he hears you calling him that. We’d better keep moving. If you see anyone, tell them we need a break.”
“Cool. See you in the front.”
The shuffling continued in both directions. Scout peeked over the boulder as the boys rounded the house. The backdoor was ten yards and a flight of steps to the wooden deck. He scurried up the steps and his feet rang hollow thuds moving across the deck planks. He pulled on the sliding glass door that didn’t budge and jiggled the handle with rising panic, having placed all his plans on getting through the backdoor. He pressed against the glass in a vain attempt to pry the door open. Shuffling sounds announced the returning patrol.
Scout froze on the deck with his back against the locked door, unable to run or drop for cover as the first boy rounded into sight. Scout’s one chance to save Raven was about to blow up in his face. He prayed for a miracle without any real hope for an answer.
Sunshine broke apart the low hanging clouds and found Scout like a searchlight during a prison break. Every nerve in his body contracted into a tight knot. He held his breath again. The heat of the sun warmed his skin; sweat slid down his neck onto the collar of his jacket that he now wished he’d left behind. The boys on patrol would see him standing there any second.
Scout closed his eyes in defeat.
“Would you look at that,” one boy said. “Now that right there is worth getting up early. The last time I saw the sunrise was with my mom.”
The other one coughed until his face turned red. “Great. Maybe it’ll warm up a little.” He kept on his route and disappeared.
His counterpart continued watching the sun for a moment. Each passing second drove Scout into a silent madness of urgency. His mind was flooded with horrible images of the torments being done to Raven inside this house. She needed him now and this kid was taking in the sunrise. Maybe he could jump him and roll the sick one when he came back around.
“I miss you, Mama.” The boy wiped his tears and moved on.
Scout scooted along the deck, pushing every window he could reach. The third one slid open and he hurried through, closing it behind him.
