Mariah got up to dole out more fish to those that wanted it. Monty was the first to lift his leaf for an offering.
Carl rolled his eyes and made a face at Adam, who snickered.
Mariah motioned Luke and Kate over for another helping.
“I don’t know how we are going to stay out here long-term,” Patrick spoke. “The weather won’t be nice forever. We aren’t equipped to handle a winter out here.”
Adam got up to accept some fish when Mariah waved him over. “I’ve got some ideas. Stuff I could build.”
Carl lifted a foot. The sole of his shoe hung loose. “This could be a problem in snow.”
“We can’t live in the woods in the winter,” Chloe sniffled.
“I don’t think you’re going to have a choice,” Marcus stated soberly. He nodded at Carl’s foot. “Ir… I know someone who can get you the things that you need. I scouted with him for awhile. With so many dead or hiding, resources are out there.”
“I want a doll,” Kate announced.
“Don’t be stupid, Katie,” Luke scolded his sister.
Kate spit out her tongue at her brother and perched on her father’s leg, wrapping an arm around his neck with her food balanced precariously in her hand.
Finished doling out fish, Mariah sat back down. “We needed to hear this,” she told the group. “We can’t live in denial. We need to be prepared for what the future holds. Who’s this person you know?”
Ashar nodded. “Mariah is right. We need a plan. A list of things we’ll need.” He looked around at their camp, seeing the progressing shelters differently. “Winter will come eventually. There are things we will need to do to be as comfortable as possible.”
Ashar hadn’t been through a winter. Irv was off doing his own thing and wasn’t with them to teach him the skills he would need. His fingers sought the growing hole in his jacket. Snow would change things, make it harder to find food. To stay warm. He’d been focusing on day by day, but he hadn’t been smart with his priorities. Being ready for a long winter was something they needed to be preparing for now, and should have already been thinking of.
It wasn’t just Carl’s shoes that would need replacing. None of them wore sturdy boots except Monty. None of them had coats or hats. They had no long-term storage solution for food. There would need to be plenty of wood ready. He was sure there were other things he didn't even know to think of.
Irv had said he would be back. With a sigh, Ashar realized he could not ask him to stay again. Irv was their source to the outside world. He would be the one to find the things that would help them all stay alive.
He didn’t want to tell the group that he was afraid of the future. God knew. He would refocus his prayers toward asking for protection for Irv. Provision for them all through the winter. For wisdom so that no one died under his care. That was something he wasn’t sure he could bear.
It had certainly become easier to pray, but Ashar felt like he was always asking for things. God was probably sick of him.
He let go of his jacket, pressing his hand against the Bible in the pocket. He’d been reading it a lot. Testing the words that he had been trying to understand. The words often gave him peace. He could say that he had favorite books to read now, that some spoke deeply to him and others he skimmed through because they were confusing.
Studying Marcus while he sat, Ashar tried to sort out the mess in his head the best he could. Irv had brought the man in for good reason. Maybe God Himself had sent him. He would need to utilize the strengths that they had. If Marcus was his best resource while Irv was gone, then he would use him to their advantage.
He got up to put his leaf in the fire.
“Marcus, could we talk?”
Marcus followed suit with his leaf and followed Ashar toward the edge of the camp.
“What do you see when you take it all in?”
Crossing his arms, Marcus turned to face the encampment, perusing it with narrowed eyes for a couple of silent minutes. Ashar didn’t say anything. He wanted the perspective of a new set of eyes.
“Your shelters are lacking. You need tools. You seem to have no food stored at all. You aren’t prepared for an evacuation. You don’t have anyone on guard. I haven’t been here long enough to have a complete assessment of the situation, but those are my initial observations.”
Time had tricked them all, feeling like the trickle of a stream, slow and steady, twisting its way down a path leading to the end of the war, so they could return to normalcy.
That had been the illusion. War was raging outside of their bubble while they had paid no attention and pretended they were safe and untouchable.
Ashar had to decide whether to take that from everyone, or whether to share the burden with only a few. He looked at Marcus’s profile. He guessed Marcus was in his early fifties.
His jaw was strong, his skin weathered and tan around the lines. Ashar noticed there were scars on the back of the fingers of the hand that he could see.
Marcus looked capable. Squeezing his jacket hem between his fingers, hoping he was right and needing someone to fill the gap Irv had left, he spoke. “What would you change, Marcus? We need a plan.”
Marcus nodded, accepting the unspoken role Ashar offered. “The shelters need to be finished and insulated. We need to pack the crevices with moss. Use wood to raise up sleeping pallets to get them off the ground. Line the floors with pine boughs so they’ll retain warmth better. Each shelter needs a fire pit too, an escape hatch for smoke. That means lots of wood ready.”
“Adam is good with building stuff. He’s clever. Mariah works harder than anyone. Carl is eager to please and he doesn’t dawdle.”
Marcus made a sound in his throat. “Even though he looks like a poof?”
“I don’t even know what that means,” Ashar admitted, laughing lightly at the term. Carl was busily gathering the water bottles that had been drained from breakfast to take to the lake and refill.
“Prince Out Of Fortune.” Marcus tucked his thumbs into his jean pockets, leaning back on the soles of his boots. “Basically means a spoiled kid who gets plucked out of his cushy life, fortune-less, and dumped into reality. My buddies and I liked to call new recruits that in boot camp.”
His tone had darkened at his referral to his old life.
“Right.” Ashar watched Carl call out a cheery “be back” as he put the bag of bottles over his shoulder. He waved to both of them as he passed. “He’s a good kid.”
Marcus arched a brow. “I’m pretty sure you’re both the same age.”
Ashar lifted a hand and ran it over the growing beard on his face. “I feel older.” Things like shaving weren’t an issue when you lived off the land and didn’t have razors. He knew his hair was too long. He was constantly shoving it out of his face, annoyed at the curl. Carl barely had any scruff on his chin, despite the time that had passed.
“Life can do that to you,” Marcus agreed. “Let’s get started on the shelters, make those priority. Then we’ll tackle the food issue.”
Marcus knew how to do things he didn’t, Ashar learned quickly. Marcus led him out into the woods, found a dead tree and showed Ashar how to strip off the layer between the bark and the inner layer of wood and wrap it together to make cords.
Marcus made no attempt to befriend the others. He gave an order and didn’t wait to see if they argued. Under his direction, a frame was built up for his shelter while he used the opportunity to teach them how to insulate the rest.
When he was satisfied everyone knew what they should be doing, he announced he was going to hunt. He appeared at dusk with a rabbit and a squirrel hide and called for everyone to take a break. His words were met with grunts of relief as the crew settled on stumps around the fire.
Ashar drank long gulps from his water bottle. He was tired, but happy with the progress they had made under Marcus’s leadership. There had been grumbling, but no one, not even Monty, had not done their share. Marcus was a little scary in boss mode.
He pulled his shoulders in, feeling his skin stretch over the bones on his back. He had thought so little of the bones lately. Ashar had made it a point to keep them well shrouded beneath his layers of clothing. Out here, he was just as normal as the rest of them.
Irv had become something of a surrogate for the family he had walked away from. Without Irv, those surrounding him had become his family. Ashar felt like it was a gift to know what it was like to be a small part of something.
He rose to help Marcus prepare the meat. He would do whatever it took to keep them all safe.
Chapter Fourteen
Yawning, Ashar left the confines of his shelter and stretched, lifting his face into the hazy morning sun. The birds were happily chirping their conversation as though they had been up for hours.
Shoving his hands into his pockets, Ashar rocked back on his heels, turning his head when he caught a movement to the left. He expected Marcus, who tended to be up far before the sun and often scouted around the camp or fished until the rest woke.
But it was Irv, looking far more grim than Ashar had ever seen him. The corners of Ashar’s lips dove into his cheeks as he started toward his friend. Irv didn’t smile back.
Ashar’s step faltered, his lips retreating back to their resting place. Irv’s eyes were shadowed, his shoulders hunched. His brows were pulled tight together.
“Irv?”
Irv blinked at him. Ash felt his chest go tight with anxiety. He scraped his thumb and index finger over the tattered edges of the hole in his jacket. “Irv, what is it?”
Irv shook his head, opened his mouth, then shut it. He shook his head again. Ashar cast his eyes around behind Irv, wondering if he was missing a warning Irv was trying to convey. He saw no one, saw nothing different than how it normally seemed.
“Come to the fire, Irv. Sit down,” he urged.
Irv shuffled along with him, sat heavily on one of the stumps. Ashar sat next to him, praying, hoping to alleviate some of whatever burden Irv carried, worried that whatever was troubling him was more than he was prepared to handle. He’d never seen his friend in such a state.
Patrick came out of his shelter with Luke, and went into the woods to take care of morning functions, without noticing Irv. Mariah came out, winding her hair up and tying it with a cord. She wandered into the circle, eying Irv curiously.
“This is Irv,” Ashar explained shortly with a lift of his hand.
“Hmm,” Mariah said, looking between the two. “Friend of yours?”
“Yes,” Ashar agreed.
Mariah headed off into the trees and returned, adding logs to the fire to build it up. She asked no questions. Ashar was grateful for the silence. He wasn’t sure what to say.
Patrick and Luke came back and went back to their dwelling, paying no mind to those around the fire pit.
Marcus appeared carrying a fox. “Irv,” he greeted simply and set about skinning the fox.
“Who is that?” Chloe stood with Kate, her husband and son behind her, staring at Irv with alarm.
“That’s Irv,” Marcus said, tipping his knife in their direction.
“You know him?” Chloe demanded.
“Know who?” Carl stepped free of his shelter, squinting in the light.
“This is Irv,” Ashar introduced. “He’s a friend of mine.”
“He looks miserable like the rest of us,” Monty groused. “Don’t know how I’m supposed to sleep with all the talking,” he snapped as he slammed through his door and headed straight into the forest.
“I’m not miserable!” Carl called after him, wandering over to them. “I’m Carl.”
Irv shook his head, staring at the ground.
“Come on, Kate.” Chloe skirted her daughter in a wide path around them to take care of their morning business.
“Carl, why don’t you get Adam and get the water,” Marcus directed. “I’ll finish up this fox and get it on to cook.”
“Yeah, sure,” Carl agreed, moving to rap on Adam’s door.
Ashar heard Carl give Adam a short ‘there’s a new guy but Ash will fill us in at breakfast,’ speech. Adam just lifted a hand in greeting as he headed off with Carl to do as Marcus had asked.
Marcus and Mariah fussed with the fox, adjusting the spit until they were happy with it. Ashar smiled. He had caught the two of them looking in each other’s direction when they thought the other wasn’t looking more than once.
“Monty,” Marcus turned his attention away from the fox to Monty as he returned. “There’s a berry patch west of here. Take that bowl I’ve been working on and fill it up.” Marcus indicated a piece of wood he had been diligently digging away at around the fire every night.
“I’m not in the mood for berries,” Monty snapped as he sat down and crossed his arms.
“Then we won’t be in the mood to share any of the fox,” Mariah stated, her eyes narrowing as she considered Monty’s defiant stance.
“Stupid,” Monty spat as he stood up and clomped in the direction of the bowl. “I don’t even know which way is west.”
Mariah took a couple of steps after Monty, stopping when Marcus uttered her name firmly.
“The sun rises in the east, and there’s the sun…” she aimed her finger, “so west would be that way.” She swooped her finger in the opposite direction, regarding Monty with contempt.
The family came back, Patrick and Chloe carrying wood and both kids carrying handfuls of sticks. Ashar thought Chloe looked as though she had been crying, again. He wondered if she had reacted so strongly to everything before the war. He’d never given much thought to getting married and wasn’t sure it would ever happen now, but he knew that if it did, he would want to find a woman who adapted more easily than Chloe seemed to. He had no idea how Patrick remained so calm.
The fox was the biggest game that had been caught in one of the traps. Ashar was glad that Marcus had the expertise to handle it. It was nice to have someone else who knew how to hunt and prepare food.
His stomach still hadn’t grown accustomed to the grisly task. He and Irv had discussed at length how much mindsets had changed over the decades, as progress and technology had stripped away the need to do things as basic as preparing meat for consumption, and segregated the practice to a small percentage of the world.
Ashar knew from the ample time he had spent reading in hospitals that large-scale meat production and factory farms provided most of the world’s meat to the consumer.
Hunting, fishing, and other outdoor sports had seen a sharp decline in just the last decade as virtual reality had spiraled into homes and replaced many outdoor activities.
Irv had been passionate about the subject, citing a strong need for advocates that encouraged people to seek out time in the sun and spend time outdoors. Sometimes those discussions had darkened Irv’s mood and he had vaguely hinted at it being better to be unknown and off the grid.
Ashar had spent more time in rooms watching life happen outside of his windows than participating in the many things the world offered. He had only what he had read to argue with and most of the time he had agreed with the opinions Irv held anyway.
He eyed Irv now, remembering those conversations. Realizing that Irv’s premonitions had come true. Being ‘lost’ may have saved their lives.
Monty came back with the berries, Carl and Adam with the water.
Marcus and Mariah began to dole out the strips of fox they had cut to cook quickly. Irv accepted his helping but only stared at it rather than consuming it.
“Aren’t you hungry?” Kate asked. “It’s really good!” Kate had quickly gotten over her aversion of eating furry animals when she had finally tasted one and declared it was ‘yummy.’
&nb
sp; “I’ll eat yours if you don’t want it,” Luke offered.
“I was going to ask that!” Kate shot back, standing up to glare at her brother.
“Kids,” Patrick admonished. “Sit down. He’ll eat his food.”
“I don’t want it.” Irv spoke barely above a whisper. He lifted his eyes to look at the children and held out his meat-filled leaf. “Share it.”
“Irv, you need to eat something,” Ashar urged. “How long has it been since you’ve eaten?”
Irv shook his head. “This war.” He whispered it fiercely. The impact of the two words quieted the group. Everyone focused on Irv. Food was forgotten. “It might be over soon.” Irv stated it, but he didn’t seem convinced, or happy about it. Rather, his pupils dilated, hollowing his eyes. Ashar took the food that was still in his hand before it fell. Irv clenched his fists in his lap.
Carl lowered his own food to his knee. “That’s good though, right? Why do you make it seem like it’s not?” Carl forced a grin, glancing around. “Are you afraid you won’t know how to be normal again?”
His attempt at a joke fell flat. Irv didn’t even blink. Ashar watched his friend’s eyes fill with such darkness that chills skittered along the bones on his back.
“The President is dead.” Like bullets, the words slammed into existence. “The Vice President is dead. Congress. All dead.”
Mouths gaped. Ashar saw the same shock he felt reflected on everyone’s faces. He wasn’t sure he grasped the reality of the words or what they meant for them, for their country. He’d never been interested in politics. Most of what he knew about it had been garnered from what he had been taught in his online courses and what he had seen in movies.
If he interpreted what it meant from how it seemed to be affecting Irv, it was bad. Enough to leave Irv in the shell-shocked state he was in.
Seal Two Page 8
