Chapter Twenty-Two
Chloe awakened to a splitting headache, a shirtless Rok, and three strangers with concerned expressions hovering over her.
“Thank Zok, you’re all right!” Rok clutched her hand against his bare chest. She could feel his heart racing.
“I’m Dr. Damon Joseph.” An unfamiliar blond man came forward and motioned to Rok who gave up his chair. “You can call me Damon. How are you feeling?”
Doctor? Huh? She shifted her gaze from him to a Progg bearing a strong resemblance to Rok and a dark-haired woman. Grav and Laurel I presume.
She was lying on a hard surface—a table?—her head on a pillow. Standing candelabra threw light at the pale walls and exposed ducts in the ceiling. “Where am I?”
“You’re backstage at the Gillioz,” Rok said.
“Do you remember what happened?” the doctor asked.
“Zack shot me! He shot at Kevin!” She sprang up. “Kevin! Is he all right?”
“Whoa, whoa!” The doctor pressed a gentle palm to her shoulder. “Not so fast.”
“Kevin is fine. He’s in the trailer,” Rok said.
“Thank God!” She relaxed and allowed the doctor to ease her to a reclining position again.
“We’re more concerned about you. Follow my finger,” the doctor said.
She tracked the movement with her eyes.
“Good. Now, how many?” He made a peace sign.
“Two,” she answered.
“Good.” He shined a penlight at her pupils. “Rok already kind of gave you a clue, but do you know where you are?”
“Besides the Gillioz?”
“Yes.”
“Springfield, Missouri.”
“Your name and date of birth?”
“Chloe Thorne,” she replied and gave him her birthday. “What kind of a doctor are you?”
“I was a radiologist,” he said sheepishly. “These days, I’m a GP. Do you know what day it is?”
“You’re kidding, right? I haven’t known the date in over a year. It might be June. I can narrow it down to a Monday, Wednesday, or a Friday since that’s supposedly when the survivor meetings are.”
He gave a slight smile. “Point taken. You mentioned the headache. Is your vision blurred? Are you nauseous? Is the light bothering you?”
“No, slightly, and no,” she replied. She touched the side of her head. “I’m bandaged.”
“Back and side,” he said. “You seem alert. I think you have a mild concussion. You cut the back of your head, which I stitched, and you have a gash over your ear.”
“Zack shot me!” she said again.
“You’re lucky it only grazed you.”
“He tried to kill Kevin, and I pepper-sprayed him just as he fired at me. He’s still out there!” Zack could come back!
“No,” Rok said. “He’s dead. I vaporized him.”
Good. He wouldn’t have stopped until he killed me—and everyone connected with me.
“You’re going to be fine,” Damon said. “You need to rest. Take an over-the-counter painkiller for the headache if you need it. Do you have a place to stay?” He scooted the chair back and got to his feet.
Rok instantly slipped into the seat and clasped her hand.
“Sort of. We spent the night in a motor home by Cox Medical Center South. We rode here on bicycles.” She interlaced her fingers with Rok. The man looked mighty fine without his shirt.
“No bicycle riding for a while!” Damon said. “You may be dizzy, and your balance may be off.”
“We have a house ready for them,” Laurel said.
They did? She frowned.
“We all live in the same neighborhood,” Grav added.
That sounded wonderful. Neighbors. Community. Family. Normalcy. A home possibly.
“The man who shot you—you called him by name. You knew him?” Laurel asked.
“I met Zack and his friends, Sandy and Caleb, in St. Louis. Zack and Sandy were lovers. I didn’t realize until too late they were colluders.
Caleb took me to meet four other people hiding in a mattress store.
Zack and Sandy led the Progg there. I escaped, but he killed the others, and when he fired at me, he hit Sandy. ”
“Zack guessed I would head for Springfield and came after me; he blamed me for Sandy’s death. He saw the survivor meeting signs. He’d been watching the Gillioz, waiting for me.”
Rok squeezed her hand. “You scared me. I saw you lying there…all the blood…I thought you were dead.” She could see the stark pain in his eyes.
We do have a bond. Given she was concussed, she would hold off on any grand pronouncements and avoid life-altering decisions, but ambivalence had evaporated, and she’d crossed the bridge from casual to committed.
Alien, human didn’t define people. Character did.
Rok, a Progg, was a good person. Zack, Caleb, and Sandy weren’t.
She’d almost died! No one was guaranteed a tomorrow, so she would make the most of today and what she did have—the love of a kind, sexy alien man.
“How did you find me?” she asked.
“Kevin,” he answered. “He ran into the theater barking like crazy and led us to you. Luckily, Laurel is a nurse. Grav went and got Damon, and we brought you backstage through the rear entrance.”
“Can I see Kevin?” She looked at the doctor.
“As long as you don’t move around too much. Remember—rest.”
“I’ll get him.” Grav left the room.
Damon patted her shoulder. “You’re going to be fine. I’ll check on you tomorrow. If you’re comfortable, I’ll be going. I’d promised to look at a rash after today’s meeting.”
“I’m good. Thank you.”
The doctor left.
“I guess I threw a wrench into the meeting,” Chloe said.
“Nah. We needed some excitement. It was getting too quiet around here. I’m Laurel Knight, by the way,” the woman said.
“It’s nice to meet you. Did anybody else show up?”
“Only you and Rok. This means so much to Grav.”
“I’m sorry I brought trouble with me.” She bit her lip. “I hope there isn’t more on the way.”
“More of what?” Grav entered with Kevin, who began to twist and wiggle. Grav set him down, and the dog shot to Chloe, jumping up and licking her face. His entire body wagged with his tail.
“You’re such a good boy!” She hugged him. “Let me sit up!” The room swayed as she pushed herself to a seated position and swung her legs over the edge of the table. Definitely no bike riding. She pulled the excited dog onto her lap.
“I hope there isn’t more trouble coming,” she replied to Grav’s question. “Zack was working with a Progg in St. Louis. What if the Progg follows him here? Are colluders chipped?” She held up her wrist. “They had starlike scars.”
“Yes,” Rok said. “But the trackers don’t work anymore. Since the ship left, comms are down, and nobody can track anything.”
The Progg had the trio convinced he could find them wherever they went, but he’d lied. They thought they were trapped when all they had to do was leave. That still doesn’t excuse what they did.
Laurel cleared her throat. “If you’re ready, we can get you installed in a house. We keep a few clean and stocked for newcomers. The neighborhood is a mile or so away—too far for you to walk in your condition, but we can provide transportation.”
“That sounds perfect. Thank you both for all your help.”
* * * *
The transportation turned out to be a Radio Flyer red wagon.
On foot, Grav hurried on ahead, while Rok and Laurel readied the bikes, disconnecting the trailer on Rok’s bike and hitching it to the dog trailer on hers. Then they secured the wagon to his bicycle.
Setting off for the house, Rok pulled Chloe in the wagon while Laurel rode Chloe’s bike, dragging both trailers.
Swaths of pink and purple lit the sky when they pulled up to an older brick home.
A generator hummed in the open garage, and lights in the windows glowed with welcome and homecoming.
Against her protests, Rok carried her inside, where Grav waited for them.
After starting up the generator, he’d turned on the AC, which had begun cooling off the house.
As soon as Rok settled her on the living room sofa, Kevin jumped up beside her.
“Let me show you how to operate the generator,” Grav said.
Rok eyed Chloe anxiously.
“Go. I’ll be fine.”
“I’ll take good care of her,” Laurel said.
The men disappeared into the garage.
“How are you feeling?” Laurel asked.
“Like I was shot in the head, but otherwise okay,” she said. “A little woozy.”
Laurel nodded. “Like Damon said—take it easy. Let Rok wait on you.” She grinned and then sobered. “He was so worried. He’s obviously quite taken with you. You two have…a thing?”
“Yeah.” Her mouth twisted wryly. “It took a while to accept him and my feelings for him. How could I care for a Progg after what they did? I hated them, but I liked him, and it messed with my head. It felt like I was betraying our people, like I’d joined the colluders.
The Progg are merciless, murderous, genocidal invaders, but Rok is caring, kind, and sweet. How can both be true?”
“I experienced the same with Grav. He’d been wounded. I found him in the woods. I tried to finish him off, but I couldn’t do it. Maybe it’s the nurse in me, but I couldn’t kill him in cold blood. I took him prisoner instead and kept him tied up.”
She’s one tough lady. But I guess I am, too. Circumstances made us so.
“Then I encountered my own Zack,” Laurel said. “Luckily, Grav managed to free himself and save me.”
“And now you two are…”
Laurel answered her curiosity with a quirk of her mouth.
“In a committed relationship.” She shook her head.
“Honestly, it would be easier if we weren’t.
A couple of people have come to the meetings and then never returned.
I could tell they saw Grav and wanted no part of a community that included a Progg.
But I love him. I truly believe that love and hope will save us.
“Besides, what’s the alternative—mutual annihilation? Their weapons are far superior to ours, but now that they’re outnumbered, we have the upper hand. Do we keep killing each other until there’s one lone survivor?”
“Maybe the way to defeat them is to win them over,” Chloe said.
“In all honesty, I accept Grav only because he doesn’t personally have blood on his hands. He didn’t kill anyone,” Laurel said. “If he did—that would be a deal-breaker.”
“I feel the same about Rok.”
“That won’t matter to people who will deem Grav and Rok as guilty as the rest, and I can’t blame them for that.
Different people draw the line in different places.
For me, it comes down to murder. I can’t accept a Progg who participated in a killing march.
Nor can I accept the colluders who helped them. ”
“Me either. How does Grav feel?”
“He opposes what Progg-Res did. It never sat right with him; he could never buy into it. He’s still worried about it. The GM aborted the campaign, but with their comms down, it’s anybody’s guess how many know that.”
“It’s not over yet, is it?”
“No, but the situation is much improved. In three months, we’ve only seen a single Progg—and he’s been dealt with. We established a militia, and Grav—and now Rok—are probably our best defense.”
“He’s up to speed on the generator!” Grav announced as the men reentered.
Rok sat next to her, and she reached out and threaded her fingers through his. Their gazes met, and she could see the caring and concern in his eyes. The gentleness and the desire. The warmth of belonging and homecoming spread through her.
“Did you fill Chloe in on the food and electricity situation?” Grav asked.
“Planned to, but then we got to talking,” Laurel replied.
“There’s a small assortment of canned goods in the kitchen cupboard.
There’s a limited amount of vegan, but it will tide Rok over for a day or so.
You can open the fridge—it’s been cleaned out.
But it’s unplugged. I recommend dry storage only, because it will go on and off with the generator, and that will promote mold growth.
“With regard to the generator, it’s gassed up, and we’ve provided an extra five gallons, but fuel has to be siphoned from cars.
Without electricity, gas pumps don’t work.
Use the generator to heat water, run the AC to make the temperature bearable, wash clothes, cook on the electric stove.
But unless you want to be sucking gas out of cars all the time, I recommend you turn it off when you can get by without it. ”
“Got it. After going so long without electricity, having it part-time will be a luxury.”
“Oh, before I forget—there’s a tub-shower combo in the master bath. Don’t soak your head until the bandages come off. You can bathe, but don’t shower. Blot your hair if you have to.”
“Okay.” A bath sounded like heaven.
“Lastly,” she said, passing a sheet of paper to Chloe, “these are the current residents. Most everyone lives on this same street. An Amish couple lives outside of town. Grav and I are two houses down from you on the right.” She glanced at Rok. “If you need anything, don’t hesitate to come get us.”
Chloe perused the printed list of names, addresses, and areas of expertise and responsibilities. “Did you do this on a computer?”
“Yeah. When we run the generator, I update the list and print out current copies. I’ll add you at the next update.”
“You’re organized!” She was impressed.
“We’re getting there. We’ll let you rest. Damon and I will drop by in the morning to check on you and change the dressing.”
“I can’t thank you enough for all you’ve done,” Chloe said.
“Our pleasure. We’re in this together. We have to stick together, support one another, and care for each other.”
“We do,” she agreed, her throat thickening with tears of gratitude.
She’d known all along she’d needed people but hadn’t realized how much she’d needed this—to be taken care of, to let somebody else carry the load for just a little while, to meet people she could trust—and she included Rok and Grav in that.
“As soon as I’m back to fighting form, I’ll be pulling my weight,” she promised. And then some.
“Get well. Rest. Take all the time you need.” They left, and she and Rok were alone.