We weren’t in there very long, maybe a half hour or so, when Pastor Jim knocked on the door and entered. I was swaying the baby in my arms in an attempt to silence him, but he wouldn’t quiet down.
“Cal, I came to…” He paused, staring.
“What? I’m sorry. I’m trying to calm him. He won’t…”
“You can’t stay. You must leave. I’m sorry, take him and go.” He turned.
“Wait. Why?”
“This is a quiet place. We can’t take a chance of the Formers hearing and trying…”
“You have a fence.”
“It won’t hold if too many show up. I’m sorry. We don’t want you here.”
“Whatever happened to all are welcome in God’s house?”
Pastor Jim wouldn’t even turn around. “Don’t make us take you out. It would be best if you left through the back door.”
He couldn’t even look at me. Of course not, he was sending an innocent baby out into the madness. I felt horrible for my son. To be so young and not be wanted.
It wasn’t going to be long before the sun would start to set. I hurried and grabbed my things and left, as requested, through the back door. I didn’t have time to beg or argue. I had to take Edward, get back on the road, and find shelter before nightfall.
11
OUST
It would actually be quite comical if it wasn’t so pathetic and sad, how Leah kept following us and coming back like some sort of stray cat. It was hilarious if she knew. There was no way, no how, she did. It had to be instinct.
I let her in the car. About the twenty-mile mark, as it often did, Highway 119 transformed into a two-lane road to pass through a small town. This one consisted of a car repair shop and a volunteer fire department. Just as we hit the edge of town, I saw the property of Berchum Mills. Or I guessed it was his.
A long sloped driveway from the road led up to a two-story frame house and a barn.
I could see people moving around on the property, at least I hoped they were people. Before we were spotted, I hid and locked the car and forced Leah out.
“Go, Leah, just go. I have to get Edward safe. Go,” I told her then took off with Edward down the road.
Not only was Edward a newborn, I knew he wasn’t doing well. He wasn’t taking his bottle and if it didn’t come back out of his mouth, it went right through him. More than ever I had to get him to Sanctuary City, at least for medical help.
Stopping wasn’t an option, it was a must. It was getting dark.
My backpack was still full of supplies and bartering items. I made it to the driveway with ease, checking once to make sure Leah didn’t follow. Half way up, a truck blocked the driveway and a man stood outside of it.
“Stop,” he instructed. “What do you want?”
“I was told this was a safe place to stop for the night. I need to rest.”
“That a baby?” he asked.
I nodded. “My son. He’s two days old.”
“I’ll let you through. I don’t think Mr. Mills is going to let you stay though.”
“Why not?”
“They make noise. At night, sound travels. May not look it, but there are a lot of those things around.”
“Can I ask him?” I asked. “I mean, let me talk to him.”
The man lifted a walkie-talkie to his mouth. “Hey, got a guy here. Needs a place to stay. He wants to talk to you. He has a baby.”
There was a hiss of static. Then, “Send him up. I’ll meet him at the gate.”
“You heard,” the man said. “Head straight up. He’ll be the big guy waiting up there.”
“Thank you. Thank you so much,” I said.
“Don’t thank me. I’m just filtering people.”
I understood and made my way up the driveway.
Sure enough, a big guy stood there. He wore a green baseball cap and a checkered shirt. He opened the fence and stepped out to greet me.
“Mr. Mills?” I asked.
“Yep.” He lifted his chin. “How old is that baby?”
“Two days.”
“I see.”
“We’re trying to get to Sanctuary Sixteen and—”
“He’s not crying.”
“He’s sleeping.”
“A newborn?” he asked, then stepped forward and peeked at Edward.
“See.”
“I do. You can’t stay here.”
“We won’t be any trouble. I know—”
“Son, there shouldn’t be a baby in this godforsaken world, you know that.”
“He’s my child. My wife died giving birth to him. What was I supposed to do, just leave him?”
“I hear you, but people in your same situation made a humane choice.”
“I know what you’re saying. What you’re implying. Humane. Why make him live in this world? What kind of life can he have?”
“Jesus, that is—”
“I have to try. I do,” I interrupted him and pleaded. “For my wife. For… Edward. That’s his name. I have to try.”
“I can’t let you in here. I have people that live here, waiting this thing out. We’re safe here. We don’t need the infected to make their way in. Our perimeters aren’t that strong.”
I looked over his shoulder to the people there. Tents were erected, there were men and women. I even spotted a young girl. They all watched me talking to him.
“Please. I’ll leave at first light. I promise.”
Mr. Mills looked at me and sighed out heavily. “The barn is not in the fenced area, but it will give you shelter.”
“Thank you.”
“Look. I can’t make promises. If there is a lot of crying, screaming… I can’t promise what people might do. Any noise is a risk.”
“I understand. Thank you again for at least giving me a chance.”
He pointed to the barn and I walked toward it. It never once dawned on me that people would see an innocent baby as such a risk. Maybe I would feel the same if I were in their position.
I vowed right then and there, it was the last time I’d beg someone for a place to stay and be safe. If I had to stop again before Sanctuary City, I would handle things myself. Find my own shelter. I didn’t want to be in the position where someone would turn me and my son away and make us feel less than human.
I never expected to be in that position. Leah was supposed to be there, be the one to help me with the baby when he became out of control. I even thought about that video I saw, the magic baby cure to silence any baby.
It didn’t work.
It was unbearable and frustrating, as the night moved in, his whimpers and screams seemed louder.
There was no doubt, even though we were in that barn, all noises echoed across the land of Mr. Mills.
To add to it all, every few minutes, I’d hear a whispering voice. Not a soft soothing voice, but angry.
“Shut it up.”
“Silence it, or I will!”
I sat on the ground, rocking him back and forth, my only light was one of those little circle battery operated jobs. What was wrong with him? Was he hungry? Cold? Sick?
“Please, Ed, please be quiet. Please.”
“We’re warning you.”
Suddenly I was overcome with this horrendous fear for myself and my child. There were more voices yelling at me and Edward screamed louder.
“Shh. Shh.” I stared at him, my body trembling. I tried putting a bottle in his mouth, he didn’t want it. I didn’t know what to do.
I found my hand covering his mouth, muffling his noise. Then as my blood pressure rose and heart pounded faster, my hand pressed tighter covering his mouth and nose.
He struggled, and I just kept it there.
Oh my God. What was I doing? Was I killing my own child because I was scared of the others outside? What was wrong with me?
I lifted my hand at the same time the barn door flew open with a bang.