Chapter 6 #2
The Fafield mansion had been surrounded by fences but now those had been reinforced and there was a gate manned by at least ten individuals with guns.
Her truck was waved through and soon they drove up the big circular driveway to the house itself.
It was a sprawling building, which had been added onto many times over the years since the time of the First Settlement.
There were armed men on the roof, guards at the door and vehicles coming and going.
The stranger opened the truck door and climbed out, holding out his hand to her. “Come on, girlie.”
“Best go on,” the mechanic said, not unkindly. “The lady at the front desk’ll get you checked in and assign you a job and a cot.”
In disbelief she slid out of the truck and was escorted inside by the burly stranger, who turned her over to a guard with a parting word in her ear, “I’ll see you in the tent soon.” It was clearly said as a threat but the comment made no sense to Tamsyn.
To her relief the stranger hastened outside in response to a honking horn. Through the open door she watched her truck being driven away and figured she should write it off as permanently lost.
A woman she didn’t know was seated at a desk which had been arranged in the middle of the vast foyer.
“Name?” she said in a tired voice.
“Tamsyn Wendover but I’m not staying,” she said. “As soon as Jonny gets back I’ll straighten out this misunderstanding with him and be gone.”
The woman stared at her for a moment and then laughed. “You’re the one with the misunderstanding. Once someone joins us here, they stay. And work. Where you from?”
“Outside Rosewater.”
“Not too many of you left,” her interrogator said. “I’m from the city myself. All right here’s your room assignment—I’ll figure out a job for you later. Check on the assignment board in an hour or so. You’re on the third meal shift.”
The guard took Tamsyn by the elbow and conducted her upstairs to one of the big guest bedrooms, which now held cots set up barracks-style. She’d be sharing the room with ten other people. He left her there.
As soon as he was gone, she stuck her head out the door and found the corridor empty.
She emerged from the room and set out to explore the house and find a way out, if she could.
Failing that she was going to search for Mrs. Fafield and enlist her help.
She and the matriarch had had a good relationship while she was dating Jonny years ago and she was confident she could persuade the lady to let her go.
She could offer to bring in supplies from the ranch perhaps.
By the looks of it Jonny had more people here than he could handle.
As she walked through the house, no one challenged her although the guards stationed at each door to the outside gave her menacing frowns when she ventured too close.
Tamsyn was depressed at the lack of familiar faces so when she reached the kitchen and found Devora Sims in charge, she was elated.
She and Devora had bad blood between them going years back—Tamsyn wasn’t even sure she remembered the original insult or incident—but things had changed. “Need help?” she asked hopefully.
“Hells, yes, if you’re offering. We’re cooking and serving constantly,” Devora said, handing her a bowl of unwashed tubers. “Peel these and set them to cook.”
“Have you seen Mrs. Fafield?” Tamsyn asked as she set to work on the vegetables.
“You really are out of touch.” Devora’s laugh was scornful.
“She died in the first wave, when the authorities were med evacuating people out. The family paid for a private medical flyer to take her to the city but it didn’t matter.
She was gone two days later. All her credits in the family bank and her high and mighty airs didn’t help her. Not one bit.”
Tamsyn was afraid to ask her next question but forced herself. “How about Sheriff Davis?”
“Died from a bullet to the head out on the southern barricade when a refugee took exception to Jonny trying to take his wife and daughter.” Devora glanced around to make sure the kitchen was empty except for the two of them and leaned closer.
“You see the tent out in the garden? Big old thing Mrs. Fafield used to use for her godawful garden parties every summer?”
“I caught a glimpse. Someone made a remark to me about seeing me in the tent.”
Devora shook her head. “Jonny’s been picking and choosing which refugees to let in.
People with certain skills, men he thinks will make good guards and pretty girls and women.
Those ones are under heavy guard and each night he makes a big ceremony out of rewarding his men by giving them their choice of partner—unwilling partner may I add—and spending the night in the tent. ”
Unable to believe what she was hearing, Tamsyn recoiled, mouth agape. “Are you serious?”
“Sheriff tried to rein him in—they had a huge argument about it.” Devora shrugged. “Times are desperate and Jonny’s offering safety, food and shelter. People will do a lot to secure their place here.”
“Did he try to put you in the tent?” Tamsyn asked, sick to her stomach. Devora was their peer and had gone to school with them.
“No, he knows he needs me in charge of the kitchen to keep his belly and his scroungy soldiers’ bellies full.
And feed the others he’s gathering. You better play nice with him so you don’t end up in the tent.
I’ll tell him I need you here if you want.
” She gestured at the bowl. “Better get to working though. We need to serve the next shift soon.”
Tamsyn had one final question. “And Doc Ortenbe?”
“Had a heart attack in the middle of the ER, died before he hit the floor or so I was told. Listen, Twenty Questions time is over. Pretty much if someone isn’t here in the compound they’re turned or they’re dead, ok?”
“Right. Sorry. I’m trying to take it all in.”
“Well peel the damn tubers while you’re processing.”
In a daze Tamsyn worked beside Devora for the next few hours, doing the prep work and assisting with serving and cleaning. She baked fresh bread, finding all the supplies she’d need in the Fafield’s well stocked stasis keepers. “How can they possibly have so much left to eat?” she asked Devora.
“Jonny and some of his original crew took a few trucks to the city right before everything went to hell and they hit his suppliers. I don’t know if he promised them shelter here or if he rolled in guns blazing and took what he wanted but remember he owns the grocery store so he knew where to get the supplies.
He’s done some smart things, I’ll admit,” Devora said, “But he’s gotten mean as a snake and twice as dangerous.
The breakdown in law and order, and the power he’s grabbed have gone to his head. ”
There was a commotion outside and the two women exchanged glances before running to the front of the mansion to see what was going on.
Tamsyn was grateful for the reassuring feel of the blaster in her boot.
She toyed with the idea of trying to escape this madhouse while people were distracted but quickly realized the guards posted inside the house were watching people like hawks, weapons unslung.
The crowd spilled outside, carrying Devora and Tamsyn with them in time to see a gaudy, huge groundbus pulling up in the driveway.
‘Lally O and the Celestial Notes’ was written on the side of the vehicle in huge flowing script and a picture of a woman Tamsyn assumed was Lally O had been painted there as well.
The bus came to a grinding halt and the doors opened.
Jonny Fafield appeared, leading the singer herself by the hand.
She was a sight to see, with her hair in intricate ringlets, blond and red mixed, wearing skintight jeans decorated with rhinestones and a top that revealed nearly all of her assets.
She paused on the step and preened as if waiting for applause.
Jonny gave the waiting crowd a glare and someone started clapping .
Tamsyn kept her hands at her sides as people around her joined in.
“I give you our special guest, Miss Lally O herself,” Jonny shouted. “Come to seek sanctuary and safety with us.”
“I told my boys I knew Jonny Fafield up in Rosewater could keep me safe,” the singer said, her voice carrying easily.
“I said we just gotta get there and Jonny will take care of everything. And here we are!” She was beaming and she kissed Jonny on the cheek, leaving a perfect imprint of her red lips.
If she was as good a singer as she was an actress, Tamsyn thought, she was probably someone on her way to the top before the epidemic.
It was pretty obvious to Tamsyn anyway that Lally had never heard of Jonny or Rosewater but someone in her entourage must have suggested fleeing here and now the singer was playing it up bigtime.
She had Jonny figured out for sure. He could barely take his eyes off her cleavage as she extolled how brave and smart he was and how she could relax under his protection.
Eyes narrowed, Tamsyn focused on the woman’s arm, which was covered in bracelets nearly to the elbow.
Lally kept rubbing it before catching herself and gesturing as if to hide what she’d been doing.
The bracelets shifted a bit and Tamsyn saw at least one nasty looking red scratch mark.
Remembering how Rasty had gotten infected from nothing but a scratch from Clemt, she opened her mouth to say something but then remembered there was no one in authority but Jonny.
And he wasn’t going to listen to her concern, not as puffed up as he was right now. Lally was all over him.
“All right now, back to work,” Jonny said to his people. “I’m going to get Miss Lally settled in her quarters and maybe later she’ll give us a mini concert to celebrate today.”
“I’d be happy to,” Lally said breathlessly. “Anything I can do to help keep the morale up and support you.” She trailed her fingers flirtatiously up his arm and cuddled closer.
The guards started shooing everyone inside the house and Jonny escorted Miss Lally up the steps, through the foyer and up the grand staircase.
“Bet she never sees the inside of the tent,” Devora muttered to Tamsyn as the two women headed to the kitchen.
“She knew how to handle him from the getgo all right,” Tamsyn said.
A little later she was in the dining room, which was actually the size of a banquet hall, serving the people who’d come on the tour bus with Lally. One man sat off to the side by himself and he asked her politely if there was any synthcaff available.
“I drove the damn bus,” he said with a grimace. “And I’m pretty wiped out. Haven’t been assigned a bed yet or I’d sleep for three days.”
“Sure, I’ll make you a cup. You look like you could use it.” Rushing to the kitchen she made a big cup of real coffee from a stash she’d found in one of the pantries and carried it carefully out to the dining room. Devora watched her with narrowed eyes but said nothing.
Tamsyn handed the man the mug and held a finger to her lips as his eyes widened when he realized what she’d brought him. “Mind if I join you?” she asked. “My feet are tired from all the time standing in the hot kitchen today.”
“Lady, you bring me a mug of the real stuff and I’ll be more than happy to share my seat.” He slid over a bit on the bench and she sat at the end.
“So what happened?” she asked, trying to sound a bit disingenuous. “Where were you?”
“In New Damarkal,” he said, naming the closest city.
“Miss Lally had a gig there. She’s on a tour of the big venues, or was.
We did one show as scheduled, not much attendance due to the flu.
Then the authorities decided to make the place a shelter for people trying to escape the infected roaming the city.
We hunkered down there and made the best of it because we were already there when the edict was issued and because of who she is, we had a pretty sweet set of rooms set aside for our use.
At first things were fine—there was food and water and medical attention and the military was guarding the place.
” He sipped the coffee and grimaced at his memories.
“She offered to do a concert because all the people camped out in the arena were getting restless. She was in the middle of the first set when all hell broke loose. The infected had swarmed the place, drawn by all the people I’m guessing, or maybe the noise of the concert or both.
A few infected stormed the stage and her security fought them long enough for the roadies and me to grab Lally off the stage and the whole group of us ran for the tour bus. ”
So she could have gotten scratched and maybe even bitten then. “How did you get past the infected?” Tamsyn asked.
“The arena has a warren of tunnels leading outside, for the talent to get away without being mobbed by fans.” He gave a bitter laugh. “Not that the infected are fans of anyone.”
Tamsyn forced herself to smile. “So the tunnels were empty?”
“Pretty much. Some of our group couldn’t keep up.
We lost her backup band, two of the dancers…
” His voice trailed off and his eyes grew distant.
“Yeah, it was bad. A few infected made it into the tunnel and were gaining on us when we broke outside. I sprinted ahead, got Lally to the bus, got the engine initiated and as soon as a few people were on board, I took off. No time for stragglers, not that night. We had two other buses on tour, you know, and the other two didn’t make it.
” He glanced at the rest of his remaining group, huddled together at the other end of the table.
“Had to leave people behind but it was them or us, you know?”
Tamsyn nodded. “I wasn’t there—I’m not judging.”
“Well they sure are.” He shot a glare at the others, who ignored him. “Saved their asses, ungrateful idiots. None of them can drive the damn bus and they know it.”
“How did you end up here? Does Lally really know Jonny?”
“Hell if I know. I was too busy driving, had to run over a bunch of infected, nearly got stopped by the crowd of them but we made it into the clear and then it was dodging wrecks and debris. I had to take a lot of side streets and back roads. We stopped at a rest area to get organized well outside the city and I did hear one of the roadies suggest this place as a spot to head for, said he’d grown up here and there was one family in charge and if Lally could work her magic on them, we’d probably be safe. Guess he was right.”
Tamsyn stood up and took the man’s empty plate and the mug. “Welcome to Rosewater,” she said as she walked away.