Chapter Thirty

Chapter Thirty

Homestead

ZACH

My entire body is numb. When I collapsed, I had no choice in the matter. My mind shut things down.

Now, I’m drifting between a dream state and a semiconscious fog. I’m roughly aware of a big man in overalls approaching from behind us. My vision is blurry, so I can only make out vague shapes. But blurry or not, the man clearly has a gun. I try to cry out to warn Aiden, but no sound comes out.

There’s no sense of time or space. My body floats in blackness. An occasional thought comes into my mind, then hurries away. It’s as if my brain is trying to remember things, but I don’t have the energy to sustain them. Aiden flashes before me. Then my parents. Then Elk Springs. All brief moments, breaking up the monotonous void.

Finally, I’m vaguely aware of my surroundings. Above me are worn timbers. Rough burlap rubs against my skin. The smell of hay and barnyard animals fills my nostrils. Off to the side is the man in overalls I saw earlier. He’s facing a tool bench with his back turned to me.

Aiden lies still on the ground, not moving an inch. I try to cry out, but again, no sound comes out. Aiden needs my help. I need to get up. What has this man done to him?

I try to move but I’m constricted somehow. My hands and feet are tied down. I fight against my bonds, but it’s no use. In my mind, I scream, but only a low guttural noise comes out.

The man turns around. He’s large in stature and girth, wearing blue-jean overalls over a white cotton shirt. A mask covers his face, with a long gray beard poking out from underneath. He says something, but the words make no sense. My mind hears only gibberish. He walks over to me with a hypodermic needle in his hand. I thrash around, but he holds my chest down with his forearm. There’s a pinprick on my shoulder.

Then my consciousness quickly slips away.

*

When I wake up, I’m lying in a comfortable bed. Soft white sheets surround me. The bed frame is wrought iron, adorned with broad sweeping curves. A patchwork quilt covers me. My head is still foggy, but I’m feeling far better than I did before.

Is this a dream? The smell of bacon wafts in the air. I don’t smell in my dreams, so I must be awake. This must be real.

Looking around, I’m in a bedroom. Lime-green plaster walls contrast against white wood trim. The floor is hardwood, but the bed sits on an old, worn rug. The sun streaks in through the windows, which are covered with sheer white curtains.

I kick off the quilt and sheets covering me. I’m dressed in pajamas that are not my own. Someone has cleaned me up. My arms are clean, and I smell fresh, like soap.

The wound on my leg is much better. Red streaks are no longer visible, and the swelling is down. The scab looks clean.

But there is no sign of Aiden. The memory of seeing him lying on the floor sends a wave of panic through me. What if the man killed Aiden, but he chose to save me? Maybe he plans to make me a slave. Maybe Aiden was too much to handle, and the man only needed one of us.

A noise comes from outside the bedroom door. As I move to get out of bed, every motion creates a creaking noise from the metal box spring beneath me. Gently, I step off the bed and tiptoe to the door. An old brass doorknob is cold to the touch. I turn it until there’s a quiet click of the door unlatching.

Through a small crack in the door is the kitchen of an old farmhouse. Butcher-block countertops rest on painted white cabinets. There’s a stove and a refrigerator that looks fifty years old.

The big man I saw in the barn is at the countertop with his back turned toward me. He’s wearing those same overalls, and a long gray ponytail goes well past his shoulders. He’s hovering over the stove. I’m hit with another waft of bacon, and my stomach gurgles. I’m ravenous.

He’s probably given me more of whatever was in that needle earlier to keep me sedated. Maybe it wore off quicker than he expected. This may be my only chance to escape before he realizes I’ve regained consciousness. I have to take advantage of his mistake.

I creak the door open and tiptoe into the room. A cast iron pan rests on the kitchen table. I grab it and raise it over my head, sneaking up behind him. A quick whack on the head should be enough to give me a head start.

“Zach! What are you doing?” A familiar voice calls out from my right. I spin around as Aiden jumps up from a chair he was sitting in.

He’s okay.

Aiden is okay.

The man in overalls turns, sees me, and snatches the cast iron pan out of my hand.

“I’ll take that.” His voice is gentle and singsongy. Not what I was expecting from this big, lumbering man. He sets the pan down on the counter, away from my reach.

In the meantime, Aiden crosses the room and wraps me up in a big hug. I hug him back. The swing of emotions in such a short time makes me lightheaded.

“I don’t understand. What’s happening?” With arms still around him, I pull away to look into Aiden’s face. He’s got a broad grin, and his eyes are bright.

“Everything is okay, Zach. This is Curtis. He saved your life.” He gestures to the big man, who also has a grin on his face. Curtis makes a friendly wave. His eyes look a little damp.

“But I thought— I mean I was bound up— You were on the floor—” I trail off. My head is fuzzy, and my legs are getting a little weak.

Aiden keeps me from falling. “Whoa! Let’s get you seated.”

He guides me into a nearby chair. He drags another one up next to me and sits down.

“First, let’s get some food into you. Your body is weak. I’ll answer all your questions over breakfast.” Aiden’s kind eyes gaze into mine. I’m confused, but seeing him calms me. I trust him and know I’ll always be safe with him. I care so much for Aiden.

In no time, Curtis sets a plate of food in front of me. Crispy bacon, scrambled eggs, hash browns, and toast with jam. I shovel food into my mouth like I haven’t eaten in forever.

“Slow down, Zach,” Curtis says in a soft tone. “You’ll make yourself sick.” He sets a plate down in front of Aiden and one for himself.

Between bites of food, Aiden starts his story. “Okay, from the beginning. We were hiking along in the rain, and you weren’t looking so great. Then you collapsed.”

“I have a fuzzy recollection of that.”

“Well, I picked you up and started down the trail. I knew I had to get you someplace dry. By complete chance, I found this place. It was the smoke from the fireplace.”

Curtis cuts in, smiling, “I hadn’t had a fire for weeks. Been too warm. Luckily, it was a chilly day, or you guys might not have found me.”

I nod. “I remember us going up to the farmhouse. It’s all hazy though.”

Aiden continues, “Anyway, I ran up to this house. Curtis was there, holding a shotgun. It’s hard to blame him. I would have, too, if total strangers came running up.”

Curtis smiles and shrugs.

“I told him about everything that happened. That you had this infected cut, and we haven’t been able to find any antibiotics. He could tell you were in terrible shape. Curtis has connections around here. People he can trade supplies with. We were able to get antibiotics.”

“But I remember a barn, and I was bound up.”

Curtis nods. “Well, I refuse to turn away people in need. The world may have gone to hell, but I still have my morals. But with the Infection, I had to be sure you guys weren’t contagious. So I quarantined you in the barn for the first few days.”

My jaw drops open. “Days! How long have I been out?”

“You’ve been out for a week, Zach. It was touch and go for a bit there. The bacteria from the cut spread from your leg into your bloodstream.” Aiden puts his hand on my shoulder. “We had to bind you up. Sorry about that. You were thrashing around so much we were worried you’d hurt yourself or fall off the bed.”

“But I saw you on the ground, Aiden. I thought you were dead.” The memory gives me a chill.

“That must have been the first day when I fell asleep, exhausted. I carried you for miles through the pouring rain.”

Emotion overcomes me, and I wrap my arms around Aiden. “Thank you. I owe you my life.” I turn to Curtis. “And I owe you my life too.”

“You don’t owe me anything.” Curtis waves away the notion. “Except your thanks.”

“I don’t know how to thank you enough. And I’m sorry I tried to hit you with a frying pan,” I say, cringing.

“Aww, I’ve had a lot worse done to me,” Curtis says.

We all laugh.

*

For the rest of the morning and into the afternoon, I do nothing but rest and eat. Curtis is a natural host, attending to my every need. Aiden apparently didn’t sleep well while I was recovering, so he’s taking a well-deserved nap.

By midafternoon, my head is no longer foggy, and my strength is returning. I relax on an overstuffed couch set up next to the fire. Sitting in it feels like a big warm hug. Curtis heads over from the kitchen.

“Zach, is there anything else I can get you?”

“I wouldn’t mind a little fresh air and a stretch of the legs.”

“Well, I’d love to give you a tour of the farm. If you feel up to it.”

“That sounds perfect.”

Curtis leads me outside. Next to the farmhouse is the barn, bordered by a fence. Goats, sheep, and cows, basking in the afternoon sunlight.

“This is Homestead Farm.” Curtis looks around with hands raised and a glint in his eye. “I moved here about ten years ago. I was fed up with city life, so I came out here to see if I could live more simply. Off the grid. Turns out I can.”

He leads me past the barn and out toward his fields. We approach a large structure covered in white plastic. “This is my greenhouse. Allows me to grow fruits and vegetables year-round.”

We enter through a slit on the wall. Inside, we’re greeted with row after row of plants in various stages of growth. Some rows are empty, others have small plants, and others bear fruits and vegetables.

“This is incredible. It’s like you’re custom built to withstand the apocalypse.”

Curtis smiles. “Well, this was more about trying to reduce my impact on the planet. But yeah, it had that benefit too.”

“How have you stayed safe out here? With militias roving about. And the Infected.”

Curtis guides me out of the greenhouse. “Follow me. I’ll show you.”

He points his finger to the south. “First of all, we’re tucked into a bend in the Yakima River. That gives natural protection from three sides.” He then moves his hand around to the north. “And that way is nothing but abandoned farmland for miles. No roads. Nobody snooping. And all around is dense forest. Nobody can see it, and we’re miles away from the closest paved road. As for the Infected, I have a fence that runs the entire north perimeter of the property. Once they hit it, they just turn around.”

“Wow. It’s like a little oasis.”

“Plus, I still know a few other people around who’ve survived. They let me know of any trouble brewing. We watch each other’s backs around here. And, we do some trading. You can thank that for your bacon this morning.”

I smile, remembering how wonderful it tasted. “Yeah, that was a treat. I can’t remember the last time I had it.”

“I’ve been trading vegetables, and it’s hard to meet demand. If I could grow more, I would. Problem’s getting enough water.”

“I am pretty good at mechanical things. Show me your setup. Maybe I can help.”

“You sure you’re up for it?” Curtis scans my face.

“Yeah. I feel great.” I send him a broad grin. “Plus, I’ll let you do all the work.”

Curtis leads me to his irrigation system. It draws from the Yakima River, and he’s got a hand-operated screw pump with a crank on the side.

“Problem is, I gotta pump this water myself each day, and my old back can only take so much work.” He shows me by turning the crank. Water flows, but it’s slow going and, as he said, lots of work.

“Have you ever heard of a ram pump?” I ask.

“Nope.”

“Got any extra PVC pipe lying around?”

“Yeah, lemme show ya what I got.”

Curtis leads me over to a shed. It’s a treasure trove of building supplies with everything I need. I work with Curtis for a couple of hours. I’m still too weak for heavy work, so I direct Curtis to dig out a trench while I assemble the pump. He’s got a lot of strength and energy for a guy his age. I guess that comes from years of working on a farm.

We assemble all the pieces and drop them in the ditch Curtis dug. One end pokes out to the river, and the other extends to the irrigation channel. Curtis watches in amazement as water from the river rushes into the lower chamber, then sputters out on the top.

“Would you look at that? It’s working.” Curtis studies the contraption we built as if it’s some kind of magic.

“Yeah, we’re just using the natural power of the flow of the river to create a pressure vessel. That builds up enough pressure to pump water upward.”

“Zach, how in the hell did you know how to do this?”

I shrug. “I used to spend a lot of time watching YouTube science channels.”

“Thank you so much.” He gives me a big bear hug.

I smile warmly. “It’s the least I can do.”

No matter what Curtis says, I do owe him my life.

*

AIDEN

I must have been out for hours because the shadows are long when I wake. It looks like late afternoon. I peek at the Casio watch Zach gave me, which reads 4:47 p.m. It’s the best sleep I’ve had in months. That’s when it hits me. No nightmares.

The last week was rough. Seeing Zach lying unconscious, looking so pale and near to death. It brought floods of memories back. I spent days crying, crying for Zach, but also crying for Marcus.

When Marcus died, it felt as if a part of me died too. But I’ve spent no time thinking about it. I buried it. There was too much to do. I insisted on getting back out and doing courier work. No one was there to stop me. Things needed to get done. My feelings could wait.

In the last few days, that old wound of Marcus’s death reopened. But it never healed properly the first time, and it needed to. It’s been raw and exposed, flowing openly and purging emotion I’ve bottled up for months.

The worst part was watching Zach flail around. Seeing him struggle against his bonds while his body fought off his infection was torture. I was physically and emotionally drained. But then, little by little, he made progress. First, his fever went down, and the thrashing stopped. Then, the swelling in his leg improved. The red streaks receded. His wound scabbed over. As Zach healed, my crying subsided.

After three days in the barn, Curtis let us move to the house. We made Zach more comfortable and got him cleaned up. He was still getting heavy doses of antibiotics, and Curtis thought it best to keep him sedated until yesterday.

And now Zach’s back. Someone I care for was on the brink of death and came back.

*

When Zach and Curtis return from the fields, they’re covered in mud from head to toe.

“Did you guys wrestle the pigs?” I laugh.

Curtis pats Zach on the back. “Thisone just figured out how to improve the yield of my farm.”

Zach beams.

“Somehow, that doesn’t surprise me,” I say. “If anybody could figure that out, it’d be Zach.” I shoot a big smile at Zach, and he blushes.

After Zach gets cleaned up, he joins me, sitting by the fireplace. We snuggle up on the couch, and I put a blanket over both of us.

“This is like a dream,” Zach says.

“Yeah, we certainly got lucky.”

“Curtis is so nice. And this little farm he has is incredible.” Zach waves his hands around.

“It’s unbelievable he’s been able to just keep on living, almost like nothing happened. I hope he can keep doing it.”

“Me too.” Zach smiles. “This place is so peaceful. I could see living here.”

I nod and smile. “Yeah. So could I.”

And why not? The idea of finding a peaceful place where we can settle down and have a normal life. Why is that too much to ask for? But maybe that’s a dream for another day. There’s work left to do.

Zach seems to sense my thoughts. “But I imagine we need to hit the road soon.”

“Yeah.” I point my eyes downward. “But we can still wait for a few days for you to regain your strength. I don’t want to rush anything.”

Curtis comes in carrying three mugs.

“Hey, boys, I thought you might like some hot chocolate.” He holds out the mugs.

“Thanks,” we say together as we take them eagerly.

The warm mug is comforting in my hands. I blow on the cocoa, then take a sip. It’s delicious. Rich, bitter-sweet, and velvety, this doesn’t taste like something from a pouch.

“Wow, this is spectacular.” I take another sip.

“Thanks. My own recipe. I’ve perfected it after many years.”

Curtis sits in the chair across from us and takes a sip from his own mug. “Now, I wanna ask you boys a question.”

“Sure,” I reply.

“First, I wanna say I’m so happy to see you two are a couple. I kinda hoped you were, honestly. If I can be so presumptuous, that is.”

Zach blushes, then looks at me expectantly. My own cheeks warm. I smile and give him a nod. We’ve had little time to discuss our relationship and what we mean to each other. But I’m sure some bond exists.

“Yeah, we are,” Zach says, smiling.

“Oh good. I’m so glad. Finding someone special, especially now—it’s a rare thing. You two should cherish it.”

We look into each other’s eyes, and I can’t help but smile.

“Now I have a favor to ask of you.” Curtis takes an envelope out of his pocket. “I know you’re headed to Seattle. I hope you can deliver this for me.”

Zach leans over and takes the envelope from him. “Of course. This is the least I can do.”

“A long time ago, I left someone very special back in Seattle. We left on less-than-ideal terms, and I never got to make amends. It’s the biggest regret of my life. It would mean a great deal to me if you could get this letter to him. If he’s still alive.”

A tear goes down Zach’s cheek. “Curtis, you saved my life. I promise you I’ll see it delivered.”

“Thank you.” Curtis puts his hands on the arms of the chair and pushes himself up. “Okay. Well. You boys probably have some catching up to do. I’m gonna be out doing some more work on the farm. I’ll be gone for at least two or three hours.”

“Okay, Curtis. Thanks again for the hot chocolate.” I wave to him.

We watch as he walks across the room and opens the door to the outside.

“Two or three hours. I promise. See you boys later.” He gives us a nearly undetectable wink, then shuts the door behind him.

Zach and I turn to each other and laugh.

“Was he just giving us alone time?” I ask.

Zach’s eyes lock on mine, and he stops laughing. “Race you to the bedroom.”

Without another word, we jump up and run to the bedroom, undressing on the way.