by Bowman, Dave
Heather and Myra looked at her.
"Are you sure, Katie?" Myra asked. "It's fine if you don't feel up to it."
"No, I want to do it," Katie muttered. "I want to get out of the house."
Her eyes flicked up toward the stairs, then back to her plate.
Heather followed Katie’s gaze toward the stairs, toward Brody’s room. "We'll have to bury him. I was thinking about under the willow tree in the backyard. I can start digging this evening. It’ll take me a while, though, to get it deep enough."
Myra gave her a slight frown. "Let's not talk about that right now."
Heather dropped her sandwich on the plate. "When do you want to talk about it?" she snapped.
Myra raised her hand to shush Heather, but Heather pushed her chair away from the table.
"And while we're discussing difficult topics, what are we going to do about firewood? Why is the woodshed empty?"
"Your father and I ordered three cords of wood last week," Myra said quietly. "It was going to be delivered tomorrow."
Heather exhaled sharply. "I guess that's not going to happen now. We need wood for heat. It’s already starting to get cold." She began to pace back and forth across the living room. "And what about water?" Heather asked, glancing toward the supply of five-gallon water bottles. "That will last us two weeks if we’re lucky. What then?"
Myra glanced at Katie. "Heather, can we talk about this later?"
"No, we can't," Heather said. "We can’t keep skirting around all this. We've got to think about the future. We've got to make some decisions."
Myra sighed. "I have been thinking about it. I've been thinking about it all the time."
Heather snapped her head to look at her mother and stared at her with a pained expression on her face. "Then what are we going to do, Mom? How are we going to survive? We’re in the middle of a national collapse, and we’re not prepared at all."
"I don't have all the answers, sweetie. But for starters, the creek has water. We could bottle some and carry it home on the bikes. We’d boil it, of course. I'm sure that would help tide us over for a while.”
“But for how long?” Heather asked. “And where will we get food? We can’t just go to the store anymore. And I know you have a few veggies in the garden, but it’s not enough to feed us all winter.”
“You're right,” Myra said. “I don't have a plan for how to survive here long-term. The simple fact is, we'll have to leave here eventually.”
Heather stopped pacing and looked at her.
“Leave? Where will we go?”
“Texas,” Myra said calmly. “It's the only place we can go.”
Katie watched as Heather let the words sink in. “Do you mean to Austin, to be with Annie and Jack?” Heather asked.
Myra shook her head. “Yes, to be with Annie and Jack. But not Austin. That little town where Jack's from. Annie said something to me once, how they had planned to go to his childhood home if things in Austin ever got too bad.”
Heather pondered that. “Yeah, I'm sure Austin is bad enough for them to leave, judging from what I've seen between here and Roanoke. It’s probably worse in the big cities. But what about Dad? We’re just going to leave him?”
Myra stood up and walked to the window, looking out on the front yard. “No, we won’t leave him behind. We’re going to keep searching for him. Every day. And tomorrow, we can go into town. I want to try to track down a few more people who might have seen him at the hardware store. Maybe they’ll have some idea of what he was doing in the woods.”
“That’s a good idea,” Heather conceded.
“We’re going to find him, bring him back home,” Myra said. “And then he’ll go with us to Texas.”
Heather crossed her arms over her shoulders and frowned. “Good. I’m glad you’re not giving up on him.”
Myra looked back at her. “Of course I’m not giving up. Your father wouldn’t give up on us, would he?”
Heather shook her head. “No, he wouldn’t.” She bit her lip and inhaled abruptly. “But . . . ” she began and hesitated. “But what if we can’t find him?”
Myra looked back at the window. “Then at some point we’ll have to start thinking about leaving. I hope it never comes to this – believe me, I truly don’t – but at some point, we will have to move on.”
Heather collapsed into the recliner, her father’s favorite. Her face crumpled in agony at the thought.
“We’ll search those woods high and low,” Myra said. “I promise. But the longer we go without finding him . . .”
Heather sniffed. “The less likely it is we’ll ever find him.”
Myra sat down near Heather on the couch. “I don’t like this any more than you do,” she said. “I love your father dearly, and the thought of leaving without him is unbearable. But I just don’t think we can make it on our own here.”
“How long should we wait before leaving?” Heather asked.
“I was thinking two weeks,” Myra said. “Maybe a week or so more if we can get enough water.”
“Okay,” Heather said quietly. “I can live with that.”
Katie stood up and moved toward the living room to join them. “We're not exactly invited, though, are we?” Katie asked. “You don't think they would mind us showing up there?”
“No, not at all,” Myra said. “I know Annie too well. Jack too. They'd want us with them. Besides, there's safety in numbers. If the government doesn’t help – if they don't get the vehicles and the electrical grid running again soon, we'll be on our own for who knows how long.”
“That means no internet and no phones, right?” Katie asked.
“Right, and no food distribution, either,” Myra said, making room for Katie on the couch. “We’ll all be sent back into the nineteenth century.”
Heather snorted. “At least they had trains back then.”
“The point is we’ll all be on our own,” Myra said. “We’ll have to grow or raise any food we can’t find. And it takes a lot of work to grow all your own food.”
“What about the police or 911? The fire department?” Katie asked.
Myra shook her head. “We won’t be able to rely on any of that, maybe not for a long time. So we’ll have to look out for one another.”
Katie glanced at the front door, then at the shotgun in the corner.
“Yes, we’ll have to defend ourselves. We’re too vulnerable, the three of us here on our own,” Myra said.
“So we’re going to Texas because it’s dangerous here?” Katie asked.
“It’s dangerous everywhere,” Heather said. “The trip will be dangerous.”
“It’s not just safety,” Myra said, “though that’s part of it. It’s easier to live in a community, for defense and for growing food. And yes, the trip will be dangerous. But we can do it.”
“And it’s because of Annie, too?” Heather asked. “You miss her?”
Myra smiled. “That’s part of it.”
“I miss her too. It would be nice to be closer to her and Jack now that everything’s falling apart,” Heather said, shaking her head. “But we haven't even talked about the hardest part! How on Earth will we get there? It's got to be around a thousand miles to the middle of Texas.”
“We have bikes, don't we?” Myra asked.
“That'll take forever!” Heather said bitterly.
“You’re forgetting your father and I hiked the entire Appalachian Trail,” Myra said, her eyes twinkling.
“That was – what? – thirty years ago?” Heather asked. “Mom, listen. I rode a lot fewer miles then what it would take to get to Texas. And believe me, it's not pretty out there. And it's not easy, either. What about your knees?”
Myra bent down and reflexively rubbed at her knees. “I'll be okay. I can make it. I know it'll take a long time. But we have to try, don't we? We don't have enough food here to last more than a month, and the water will last us even less.”
“Would Johnson City be on the way?” Katie asked.
“Yes, I think it would,” Myra answered.
“We have a lot of beef jerky and trail mix back at the house,” Katie said hopefully. “Dad and I couldn't bring it all. Maybe we could stop there and load up on the way.”
Myra smiled at her granddaughter. “Excellent idea. That would be good traveling food.”
Heather shook her head. “I don't know, Mom. We’re talking about a huge journey here. Especially on bikes. Especially after all the attacks. Everything’s falling apart out there.”
Myra reached for Heather's hand. “I know. But we have to try, don't we?”
Myra looked over at Katie and grabbed her hand as well. “What do you think, Katie?”
Katie glanced at Heather, then back at Myra. “Maybe it would be best. It does feel a little scary out here in the middle of nowhere. And I mean, we’ll hopefully find Grandpa first, right?”
“Yes, of course,” Myra said. She looked at her daughter.
“Okay, I can agree to it,” Heather said. “It’s crazy, but the whole world is crazy now, and we have to survive somehow. We don’t have enough food, firewood, or a water source here. I don’t know how we can make it work.”
“We’re going to survive,” Myra said. “Whatever we decide to do. We’ll find a way to make it through this. And not just physically. We’ll find a way to live through the heartbreak, too.”
She looked at Katie and gave her a knowing look. The teen nodded, even as she felt a lump in her throat.
Heather stood up and tore into her sandwich, suddenly hungry. “But I’m going to spend the time searching for Dad. Every day.”
Myra nodded. “I’ll go out with you,” she said as she returned to the table and took a bite of a peanut butter-and-honey sandwich. “We can cover a lot of ground before dark if we leave soon.”
Katie watched them from her place on the sofa for a moment, feeling an emptiness in her chest. But somewhere down deep, there was a tiny spark of hope as well.
Her father was gone. She knew she would never recover from the terrible loss.
But somehow, she knew she would go on living. She wasn’t all alone. With what was left of her family, she was going to survive.
36
"Annie, quit fussing over me! I'll be fine!"
From her place on the living room sofa, Charlotte waved Annie off.
"Okay, okay," Annie said, raising her hands. "I just want to make sure you have everything you need."
"I'm fine," Charlotte promised. "You changed my dressings, you fed me. I have plenty of blankets. I think I'm good for the night."
Annie picked the paper plates off the coffee table and carried them to the darkened kitchen. Their second day in the ranch house was coming to an end, and she was gearing down for another night in the house. The bed with clean linens had been comfortable last night, and she had finally gotten a solid night’s sleep, but she was still weary. The place just wasn’t the same without Jack around.
She had spent the day cleaning and organizing the big, empty house. Now, the kitchen was filled with boxes and packages of food she had dragged out from the pantries and cabinets in order to inventory it all. But it had gotten dark before she could finish putting it all away. Now the disorder dragged her spirits down even more.
Tomorrow, she told herself. She’d get it all put away tomorrow.
She remembered when she and Jack had begun to stock food and water for the ranch house. It had been at least two or three years ago. It had been Jack's idea, and Annie was now grateful for his foresight. Along with the medical supplies and other essentials they had stored in the house, the food and water stores would keep her and Charlotte alive for a few months. It had been a lot of work to do all the planning, not to mention the constant rotation of supplies, but it had all been well worth it. Without all the work they had put into it, Annie and Charlotte's future would look very dim.
Annie was about to put the paper plates into the trash, but she stopped. There would have to be a radical change in the way she did things. No more garbage trucks picking up trash, and no more food delivery to the stores, meant there could be no more waste. The paper plates were basically clean – they could be used again. And she would have to start a compost pile. Any food scraps would be composted and broken down to enrich the soil and help them grow vegetables. Any inorganic waste would have to be burned, if possible.
She'd have to reclaim the old garden that had been abandoned years ago. It was covered in weeds, but at least the soil was still fertile and free of rocks, or so she hoped. In one of the cabinets in the house, she and Jack had ferreted away a variety of seeds. Maybe she could even plant a winter garden if she hurried.
She dragged herself back to the living room and blew out one of the candles that were burning on the coffee table. They would have to conserve candles, too.
"We have to start waking up at dawn," Annie said, breathing a deep sigh. "And we'll have to go to bed soon after sundown. We don't have enough candles to stay up late."
"Sounds good," Charlotte agreed. She noticed the strain on Annie's face even in the dim candlelight. "Are you okay?"
Annie sank in the chair near the front window and leaned back. "I'm exhausted."
"I'll bet you are," Charlotte said. "You've been on your feet all day, getting this house in order. Not to mention your obsession over my wounds.”
Outside, the wind picked up the screen door, which Annie had forgotten to latch, and slammed it shut. The sudden noise made Annie jump out of her chair and reach for the pistol. She soon realized it was just the wind, and she sighed and crossed to the door.
“Plus you’re constantly on alert for bad guys,” Charlotte said. “That would exhaust anyone.”
Annie latched the screen door and returned to her seat. “There’s just so much work to be done around here. Tomorrow I’ve got to finish the food inventory, and then I need to start work on the garden.”
Charlotte gave her a sympathetic look. “I’m sorry I’m not more help. I’m just a big lug, stuck here on this couch.”
“No, it’s okay,” Annie said. “It’s not your fault, anyway. You were shot, for crying out loud. I need you to heal as much as possible. And besides, it's not just the work."
"You miss Jack."
Annie nodded. "I know it's unrealistic to think he would have made it here already, but I don't know. It's hard to keep the faith that he'll make it here."
"But you have to, Annie," Charlotte said. "You can't give up on him."
"I'm not giving up on him. I'm not giving up on him at all. It's just – I'm giving up on the world. I guess I don't trust anything anymore. I used to have a feeling that everything would work out in the end. I don't believe that anymore."
"But there's always hope. If you don't hold on to the hope that he'll return, it's going to be a lot harder to get through the day."
Annie nodded. "That's true. I do have hope he'll make it here, but sometimes hope is what hurts the most."
Charlotte frowned. "What do you mean?"
"It's just been one struggle after another since the attacks. One disappointment after the next. If Jack doesn't come back –"
Annie stopped abruptly. Her voice was shaking. She wiped away tears.
"I don't know how I'll be able to live with that disappointment. And it's more than disappointment. That's not the right word. More like, devastation."
Charlotte didn't say anything. She reached across the dark room and took Annie's hand in her own. She didn't make a noise from the pain from her wounds flaring, but Annie saw it on her face. Somehow, that gesture meant more to Annie than any words could.
"Thanks," Annie said, squeezing Charlotte's hand.
"He'll be back," Charlotte said.
Annie nodded and let go of her hand. She pushed herself to her feet and blew out the remaining candle.
"Let's try to get some rest," Annie said.
Charlotte settled into her makeshift bed, pulling the covers up under her chin. "Sleep well," she said.
"You too," Annie said as she began to climb the stairs. "See you in the morning."
Inside her bedroom, Annie closed the door behind her and crawled into bed without changing her clothes. She was ready for the day to be over. She got under the covers and curled into a ball. Tomorrow would be another big day, and she needed her rest.
Everything was riding on her labor. If she slacked off, it wasn't a matter of picking up the loose ends the next day. An off day or two could make the difference between surviving or not.
Despite her fatigue, she didn't drift off right away. Her mind roiled with worries. But gradually, the weariness took her over, and her thoughts began to fall away.
A flash of light woke her from her half-asleep state. Her eyes flew open and she threw the blanket off her body. Her heart racing, she leapt from the bed and ran to the window.
Someone was outside.
37
A vehicle on the highway slowed and turned in the driveway.
Someone was coming to the house.
Without stopping to think, Annie grabbed the pistol and ran downstairs. The sound of her footsteps woke Charlotte.
"What is it?" Charlotte asked groggily.
"Shhh. Keep quiet. Someone just pulled into the driveway," Annie whispered as she moved to the front window. She pulled the curtain back just a bit and peered outside, keeping her body hidden behind the wall.
Behind her, Charlotte struggled to her feet and grabbed the chef's knife she kept within reach on the coffee table.
Annie's hand trembled as she clenched the pistol. The vehicle made its way to the top of the driveway and parked at the edge of the front yard.
Why was someone pulling into the driveway at this hour? What did they want?
The wave of fear coursed higher through Annie's chest as she realized that it was indeed they. She made out three figures in the vehicle as the driver killed the engine.
Annie looked desperately over at Charlotte, who watched from the side window.
"He's got a gun," Charlotte whispered frantically.
Annie looked back at the vehicle. The driver was holding a rifle as he jumped from the vehicle. The sound of his slamming door made her jump.
