Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Approximately six weeks later…
Devora had fixed herself a place to sleep in what she guessed had been the housekeeper’s office at the Fafield mansion.
It was adjacent to the huge kitchen and Devora made sure to always be in the kitchen or the big dining room.
She wanted it firmly fixed in everyone’s mind here at the compound that she was in charge of their food and untouchable because of the job she did.
She wasn’t above bribing certain ones of Jonny Fafield’s thugs with special treats and for Jonny himself she cooked what she remembered were his favorite meals and desserts, which he ate at his private table in the dining room.
Like in high school, she thought with scorn. Only the stakes were so much higher here.
Forget surviving any incursion by the infected.
Devora was waging a private war not to become one of the women who had to serve time in the big tent out in the gardens, servicing Jonny’s men.
If old Mrs. Fafield could see what her son was doing with the tents she’d used for her boring garden parties back in the day…
before he died, Sheriff Davis had made Jonny swear he’d exempt Devora from the appalling fate.
It had been his one condition in the ongoing argument about the facts of how Jonny was ruling his town.
It had all started innocently enough, at least on the surface.
Once there began to be flu cases in town and the infected appeared on the street in ones and twos, it was obvious the sheriff didn’t have enough people in uniform to protect Rosewater and the ranks of his deputies were further thinned by illness and people leaving town with their families in search of another, safer place.
The military came and set up shop at the hospital briefly but pulled out one morning with no notice to anyone.
Jonny had offered to assemble a militia to help patrol.
Refugees from the cities were becoming a problem too.
Not only might they be in the early stages of the deadly flu, but the hordes of desperate people threatened the town’s dwindling resources.
Jonny and his men worked diligently to create barricades across the roads leading into Rosewater and to patrol and defend those places.
Gradually Jonny took more and more power and decision making into his own hands.
He allowed certain refugees to enter the town and take up residence, claiming he was admitting people with needed skills but Devora noticed a lot of the newcomers were little more than hired guns, loyal only to Jonny.
Then he decreed all the remaining residents of Rosewater had to move into the huge Fafield compound “for their own protection.” Sheriff Davis hadn’t been able to argue against that either.
The final straw for the sheriff had been when Jonny began grabbing women and girls from the steady stream of hopeful refugees arriving at the barricades and taking them to the mansion to work and to be awarded to his men as Jonny saw fit.
He and the Sheriff had even come to blows over it but in the end Davis had had to admit he was powerless to stop the Fafield heir from doing whatever he chose, backed by an ever increasing number of armed men as well as his control of all the town’s resources.
“Swear to me you’ll leave Devora out of your scheme,” the sheriff had demanded. “She’s like a daughter to me and I’ll shoot you myself before I let you make her into a whore for your scummy henchman.”
Jonny had turned on the charm, which he had in abundance, useful for hiding the bully at his core.
Laying a hand over his heart, he’d said, “Of course not. She’s like a sister to me, we go way back to our school days together.
Long as she keeps running the kitchen the way she does, it would never even occur to me to reassign her elsewhere.
Rest easy, sheriff.” They’d even shaken hands on it.
The meeting had been held in the sheriff’s office, a last ditch attempt by Davis to show he was in charge, or so Devora believed.
He’d left the private com link between his office and her handheld open, which she knew based on past experience meant he expected her to eavesdrop.
The conversation made her blood run cold but she didn’t see what she could do.
She certainly wasn’t going to try to escape the town and strike out on her own.
And go where? The flu and the infected were everywhere.
Randal Four wasn’t a heavily populated planet, being only a few centuries from First Landing, but there had been millions of residents before the outbreak, many of whom were now roaming the world in swarms of the terrifying infected.
Not two days later a runner brought the word to the compound the sheriff was dead, supposedly shot by an aggrieved refugee turned away at the main barricade.
Grief stricken, Devora had tried to get the story from men who were at the scene but they all parroted the same tale.
The individuals she knew personally couldn’t meet her eyes as they did so.
She swallowed her grief and her terror at being without the sheriff’s protection and redoubled her efforts in the kitchen.
Sleep was eluding her tonight so she gave up and went into the kitchen to begin the prep for the next day’s breakfast. She was soon joined by one of the new arrivals, Tamsyn Wendover, a rancher from far outside town.
Somehow Jonny had gotten his hands on her.
It figured, of all people, it would be Tamsyn working in her kitchen, although Devora herself had given her the chance to help out.
Devora had loathed Tamsyn for a long time, years and years actually, ever since an incident in high school which she bet Tamsyn didn’t even remember.
Sometimes the other woman didn’t pick up on what was going on around her and she’d been no different as a teenager.
She’d better wise up fast, Devora thought, if she wants to survive in this place.
She might be Jonny’s old girlfriend but Devora wasn’t sure the long ago relationship was enough to protect Tamsyn from the current version of smalltown warlord Jonny.
Or the dangerous men he was surrounding himself with.
There weren’t many Rosewater people left at the compound though and Devora didn’t have the heart to ostracize Tamsyn now.
The past was literally dead and they should stick together.
Maybe the kitchen could protect two people.
A lot of other women cycled in and out for a few hours, as assigned by the bitch Jonny had installed as head administrator, but Tamsyn could cook and bake.
Having her as a helper would ease Devora’s load considerably.
The two were working companionably enough around two AM when a disturbance outside the mansion caught their attention and they ran to the foyer in time to see Benjy Slocum run inside, yelling for Jonny.
Tamsyn stepped forward immediately to take charge, telling him Jonny had gone to his suite of rooms with the newly arrived rockstar Lally O.
She and Benjy stormed up the stairs to find Jonny and let him know a group of infected was approaching the town’s main barricade.
Not knowing what else to do, Devora retreated to the kitchen but stood helplessly beside the counter.
Did Jonny have a plan for this eventuality?
And even if he did, how many of his men would stand with him?
She bet most of them would try to save themselves.
She picked up a spoon and put it down again.
Working on breakfast was pointless until she knew more.
Suddenly there came a loud whistle over the house com and Devora cringed, hands to her ears.
Tamsyn’s voice came through loud and clear, announcing Jonny was dead and the infected were on the way.
She said there were buses out back but Devora was paralyzed with fear, flashing back to the episode at the zoo.
Wild-eyed she looked around the kitchen and saw the open pantry door so she ran inside and closed the door behind her, flicking off the light as she did so.
The door didn’t lock but maybe if she stayed quiet enough the infected wouldn’t hear her and she’d be safe.
She curled into a ball, shaking so hard her teeth chattered.
She wasn’t sure how long she stayed curled up there but the door was suddenly yanked open and Tamsyn grabbed her, hauling her out of hiding.
“The infected will find you in there and then you’re done for.
You’ve got to get on the damn bus and hurry.
I told the driver to leave as soon as he had enough people. ”
Devora and Tamsyn ran outside into a scene of mass chaos.
As they crossed the yard toward the buses she heard a child crying and next thing she knew Tamsyn had grabbed a toddler from the grass and thrust her into Devora’s arms, saying the child was her responsibility now.
Tightening her arms around the little girl, Devora ran toward the first bus with Tamsyn.
The engine was revving and it began to roll.
Making it was an impossibility but there was nothing else to do.
Unexpectedly the bus stopped and Tamsyn pounded on the door.
The instant it opened she pushed Devora and the child onto the steps before turning and fighting her way through the surging crowd as she retreated.
Bewildered and in shock, Devora managed to stay on her feet, terrified of being trampled by people fighting to get on the bus behind her.
As she reached the aisle the driver ruthlessly shut the door again, the pneumatic mechanism making loud noises as it forced its way to the closed position and Devora swayed with the motion as the vehicle accelerated, taking the turn out of the Fafield yard on two wheels.