Fair Haven Read online

  Red Lagoe

  By Red Lagoe

  Copyright © 2017 by Red Lagoe

  All rights reserved.

  A very special thanks to:

  Donna Hitchcock McCracken & Jason Lagoe

  Beta-Readers

  Carrie Mendoza, Jason Lagoe, &

  Donna Hitchcock McCracken

  Editors:

  Katie Truesell, Crystal Fernicola,

  Jason Lagoe, & Donna Hitchcock McCracken

  Cover Design:

  Jason Lagoe

  e-book:

  ISBN: 978-0-9988531-1-6

  Paperback edition:

  ISBN-10: 0-9988531-0-0

  ISBN-13: 978-0-9988531-0-9

  LaRed Books

  “To live is the rarest thing in the world.

  Most people exist, that is all.”

  — Oscar Wilde

  1

  The Beginning

  Melody had trust issues, long before there were any cases of the infected in town, or the rest of the world for that matter. Life had been hard on her—a continuous struggle with obstacles so insurmountable that there had been times when she considered giving up altogether—but nobody likes a quitter. Marcus stepped into the picture during one of those moments in her late teens and calmed the storm in her life, becoming her haven of trust.

  However, time and experience has a way of bushwhacking the hell out of a relationship. A decade had passed and while they grew up, their paths seemed to grow apart. Lately, she couldn't seem to recognize him as the friend he used to be. He changed. Or maybe she changed.

  Considering an epidemic had been bleeding into every nook and cranny of the country over the past couple of days, she would have thought he’d be willing to put their petty differences aside for the day and communicate.

  The morning light filtered through the sheer curtains in their bedroom, making the fuzz on the new beige carpeting sparkle as he inspected himself in the mirror, buttoning his crisp blue shirt.

  Melody knew it was a bad idea for him to leave the house, considering the reports on the news, but the man’s insistence upon doing whatever he wanted trumped her pleas.

  "It's like the Ebola scare all over again," he argued, rolling his eyes and adjusting his tie in the mirror. "Remember that? Everyone thought we'd be bleeding out our eyeballs and assholes, and guess what happened?"

  Marcus answered for her, "Nothing," he said. "Nothing happened."

  She stood behind him while he continued to inspect his visage for imperfections. There were none.

  "Marcus, it's worse than that. They reported a case in Madison this morning. That's too close. Dr. Matteo left town already, so I told the girls that they should close up the clinic and go home. Why don't you just call in? We'll ride this out together."

  Marcus put his hands on her shoulders in an attempt to be consoling, "It's not here in Fair Haven yet. You worry too much."

  "I worry for good reason. People are biting each other like rabid animals," she said.

  Marcus turned back to give himself a once over in the mirror. "You would say that," he looked over his shoulder at her with a sly smile. "News guy Matt says to go about our lives-"

  "News guy Matt is an idiot," Melody snapped. "No doubt he was paid to tell people to remain calm."

  Perhaps if the media and government officials were more forthcoming with the information about the early onset of the outbreak, humanity could have stood a chance. But the so-called authorities withheld information, fearful of mass panic and hysteria.

  Mass panic and hysteria came anyway. First there were pictures and videos of attacks on social media which were deemed hoax and conspiracy. Melody herself dismissed the first viral video she clicked on. A man in a tank top had chased down a woman in full nun-garb on the side of the road in Austin, Texas. The nun screeched in the shaky video, while the crazed man apparently clawed at her with maniacal, swinging arms, biting at her legs. Then came another video. And another, until the phenomenon finally made world news. By then it was too widespread for the warnings to make a difference.

  Marcus leaned a little closer. "Greg has a sample."

  "A sample?" Melody hoped he didn't mean what she thought. "Of the virus?"

  "We're going to work on a vaccine." He whispered it with a spark in his eyes that looked more like dollar signs.

  "Vaccine? I thought you said it was nothing to worry about."

  "Mel..." he said. "Do you know how much money I could make if I came up with the vaccine for this?"

  "Or how many lives you could save?" she corrected him, hanging her head with disappointment in her husband. Always about money with him. That’s why they were stuck back in their hometown of Fair Haven—because Marcus weaseled his way into a job at his dad’s pharmaceutical lab, making more money than he was qualified to make. If she had it her way, she would have lived in her grandfather's cabin in the mountains up north. One hundred acres of mountainside property that Grams used to call the "Crap Shack”. But Marcus convinced her otherwise.

  "Of course,” he said, “it’ll save a lot of lives. But if we make a ton of cash on it too, then what’s wrong with that?”

  "I want to go with you. I have some theories about LV01-"

  "No," Marcus walked out of the bedroom and headed downstairs.

  "Don't tell me no," she argued, hurrying after him. "You know, we still have a lot to talk about. A lot to work out."

  "M." He whipped around at the base of the stairs, stopping her. "Do you really think that now is a good time?"

  "What if it's the only time we have?"

  Marcus smiled and kissed her on her cheek with the familiar dry peck of a relative. "I appreciate you trying to help. Really. But I need to do this alone. I can't bring you out there, just in case...You should wait here for the HVAC guys anyway."

  "You really think the HVAC guys are going to show up today to fix our A/C?" She laughed.

  "I'll be home tonight," he said with his hand on the doorknob. "Promise I won't die on you." He smirked with an arrogance that made her want to throat punch him, and then he was out the door before she could spew out all the hateful things she wanted to say.

  "Asshole," she said through the door.

  Marcus was the only person she allowed into her life since her father died. Unfortunately, time and the realities of adult life had been taking their toll on his personality. The past couple of weeks were chock full of arguments, and they had spent too many years together for her to let their marriage fall apart over financial worries—or whatever the hell his problem was.

  Though Marcus had hoped that going back home to Fair Haven would improve their situation, they'd been in town for a few months now, and their happiness as a couple made a steady decline into misery. Tack on to that a viral epidemic eating away at civilization, and Melody wasn't sure how to hold on to their relationship.

  After Marcus left for work, Melody stayed glued to the television. Reports of infected were all over the country. Cell phone videos of people going insane and attacking one another plagued the news and social media. It made her sick to her stomach to watch, but she couldn't look away from the screen. The panicked eyes and shaking voices of the reporters reached through the television screen and grabbed Melody by the throat.

  A woman in yoga pants and a crop top sprinted toward the reporter from behind. The cameraman jerked back, making the TV image shake. Before the woman in yoga pants could collide with the reporter, she crashed to the ground, pulled down by some neurological imbalance. The report continued from their news van as they fled the scene.

  Melody’s pulse pounded as she watched the violence unfold in their own county.

  By noon, reports on the television showed that Madison had hundreds of infected. Looters. Gunfire. Chaos—a mere 15 miles
away.

  Melody called into the veterinary clinic to see if the girls had gone home yet. Dr. Matteo should have shut down the clinic, but she took off and left the clinic to fend for itself. Melody was not on the schedule to see patients that day, but felt responsible for making sure the staff went home.

  The new young assistant answered the phone, "Barton Harbor Veterinary Clinic. This is Hannah. How can I help you?"

  "Hannah, it's Melody. Why are you there? You need to shut down early and get out."

  "I know. Everyone's already gone, but Milo Gardner is still here."

  "The head-tilt cat?" Four-year-old black cat, Milo, presented with neurologic symptoms the day before.

  "Yeah. Dr. Stacy said she doesn't think it's a brain tumor," Hannah said. "His owner isn't answering the phone. I can't leave him here."

  "Hannah, what are his symptoms now?"

  "It started with that head tilt. Now he has that weird eye twitchy thing-"

  "Nystagmus," Melody said. It was a symptom common in neurologic patients.

  "Yeah. And he’s falling over and drooling."

  "Hannah, don't touch him," Melody urged. "Get out of there."

  "But we don't know how long he'll be stuck here."

  "You can't save him."

  "I can try," she said with the ambition and naivety of every young animal lover.

  "Those are symptoms of rabies, Hannah," Melody tried to rationalize. "There's no surviving that once symptoms show up. And for all we know, it's not the rabies virus that we're used to. It could be LV01. Don't open his cage to feed him. Just get out of there and get home."

  After a long pause, "Hannah, I'm coming up there. I'll give you a ride."

  "No," she interrupted with short, nervous breaths. "I'll go." Her voice cracked and she sniffled over the phone. "I'm going."

  Five hours passed since Marcus had left for work, and Melody spent every second in her bedroom with her eyes darting between the news and looking out her window. She paced, squeezing her fists so tight her knuckles went white. She had to remind herself to breathe. There were no commercials—only non-stop coverage of the horrors unfolding around the world.

  Her calls to Marcus's cell were going to voice mail and her gut twisted so much she could have puked. According to the latest reports, Route 28, which ran along the stretch of woods on the outskirts of Fair Haven, was jammed with traffic. Helicopter coverage showed the infected on the highway—disoriented figures stumbling about. Some circled mindlessly, while others lashed out at anything that moved. People fled their vehicles, scattering in chaos.

  No exit for Fair Haven existed along that stretch of highway, and the uncoordinated state of the infected ones kept them from getting beyond the six foot fence that ran along the highway. They were contained, but Melody was unsure for how long.

  A knock at Melody's front door jarred her from her news trance. The neighborhood busy-body, Mrs. Nickerson, hollered at the door. Melody stayed hidden behind the curtain of the bedroom window, fearful to expose herself to anyone. Marcus had the car and her Jeep was parked in the garage, out of sight. For all anyone knew, she could’ve been at work as usual.

  "Miss?" Mrs. Nickerson called out. The chubby, mid-sixties woman with cotton-candy hair yelled louder. "For Pete's sake, I forgot your name," she said. "The virus is in Fair Haven!"

  Melody didn't answer, so Mrs. Nickerson shimmied to the next house. Melody's neighbor didn’t respond, though his silhouette could be seen through the glass of his first floor window as he hammered a board in place. Mrs. Nickerson moved on, waddling up and down the street, warning the neighbors that LV01 was coming, like Paul Revere on his midnight ride.

  Once the first siren sounded from the fire station, Melody, taking cue from the guy next door, began barricading the door with the dining room table and locking the windows. Police and ambulance sirens joined in the distance. Fair Haven’s streets became riotous. Many neighbors locked themselves indoors while others packed their vehicles and made a run for it.

  The chaos bled into her own neighborhood and all of Fair Haven became crippled with car accidents, looting, and unnatural acts of violence. Men, women, and even children were attacking each other, biting into their loved ones in the streets—like rabid animals. Some of those that were bitten were able to get away, and others convulsed and turned ravenous within minutes—right in the street.

  Her neighbor, who had been boarding up windows, sat in a second story window, firing shots at the feet of people trying to loot his house. Three teens charged toward Melody's house with bricks in their hands, but the neighbor fired at their feet as well, scattering them away. Seconds later, one of the infected people—a large man with a full beard—charged at the looter, toppling onto the kid and tearing into him.

  The neighbor fired shots into the bodies of the infected that were invading Elpis Court. Two in the chest, one in the head, with mechanical precision. Bodies dropped in the street and Melody didn’t think she could stand to watch any longer, but she did anyway. Her heart raced, pulse thumping against her ears. Her hands gripped a baseball bat in case she needed to defend herself, while she tried to keep watch for Marcus's return.

  Sirens and humans screamed beyond sunset, so she shut off her lights and hid in the attic with the pull-down ladder wedged shut.

  She got one phone call through to Marcus that first night, before cell service froze, and he told her something that she didn't believe.

  "I'm staying to work on this vaccine," he said. The idea seemed absurd, and anger and confusion filled her mind.

  "Don't leave me here like this, Marcus."

  "I'm not leaving you, M," he tried to comfort her. "Think of the good that can come of his. I'll be home soon." He hung up.

  Her frantic calls back to him went unanswered, then after several minutes, she couldn't get a call out at all. Cell phones sputtered in and out of service.

  She waited all night, hidden in the attic, clinging to her small TV that she dragged up from her bedroom for information on the outbreak. So paranoid of being found inside by a stranger, that she created a blanket fort over her head and the television, to keep light from escaping the attic.

  Breaking news of homicides across the country dominated the broadcasts. Hospitals were overflowing with patients. The attack victims turned violent and began assaulting the hospital staff. A State of Emergency was declared in every state.

  Melody slept curled up in the attic on a bed of cushions that she had pulled from the loveseat downstairs. Petrified and alone, she cowered while listening to the pops of gunfire, explosions, and the torturous screams outside. But she was no stranger to fear and solitude.

  She had been homeless and alone at the age of seventeen, after her father died. When a terrible storm had rolled through Fair Haven, Melody had taken shelter in the chassis of an old Caddy—it laid in the stretch of woods between the old railroad tracks and Route 28. The lightning cracked and sent nearby trees crashing to the earth, but Melody closed her eyes and breathed through the fear, waiting for morning. She had one thing to do for that night in the car—survive. "Stay alive," she had whispered to herself, and she planned to do the same this night in the attic.

  Melody survived homelessness, and she survived that first night in the attic because she stayed hidden. She survived the following nights as well. Survival is all that mattered, it seemed.

  She watched from the attic window as new terrors unfolded each day, right there in the cul-de-sac of Elpis Court.

  Mrs. Nickerson, on a frantic run to her car, fell victim to her own son—forty-year-old Daniel with cerebral palsy. He lunged from his wheel chair and bit into his mother before she could get him to the car. Every nerve ending in Melody's body sparked like electric shocks as she listened to Mrs. Nickerson's screams permeate the air. She wanted to rush downstairs, charge out into the middle of the street, and pry Daniel from his mother, but it was too late to save her.

  The news began to dwindle, and the sirens waned. The infection
swept across the country, plaguing everyone including police, doctors, firemen, and reporters. Civilization crumbled. The gray static dominating the airways terrified her more than any graphic news report.

  When the last surviving news outlet had announced a list of all of the quarantine zones that were established in the TV station's viewing area, Fair Haven High School made the list. She knew the perfect route to the quarantine zone—the tracks. She had run them a thousand times for cross-country practice in high school.

  A glimmer of hope for survival flickered inside of Melody, but she was reluctant to leave without knowing more about the status of the quarantine zone, and without knowing if Marcus was on his way back to her.

  So she stayed, watching from her attic as the surviving neighbors made a run for their vehicles. Some of them never made it to their cars before being attacked by the infected. The neighbor with the rifle tried to cover them with gunfire, but he couldn't save them all. A mere two cars from Elpis Court got away. She could only imagine how far they had made it.

  With every bang of the neighbor's rifle, her hope that Marcus was safe started to fade, and she recalled the day Marcus looked at her from down the hall at school. It was over a decade earlier, the day after that terrible storm, sleeping in the car. Everyone was looking at her different, like they all knew she was homeless, but Marcus's eyes fell upon her with intrigue. He was debonair with the ladies, and Melody kept that in mind when he leaned against her locker, exposing his lean bicep.

  "Hey, I just wanna warn you," he said. "People have been talking about what happened with your parents-"

  "I don't care what people are saying," she snapped and closed her locker.

  "Good." He smiled. "Life sucks, huh?"

  What did he know about life? Rich boy. Silver spoon. Mr. Popular. Melody raised her eyebrows impatiently awaiting for his point, if he even had one.