by Bowman, Dave
“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 m
akeshift 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.
Please let them go away.
Annie took a deep breath. She would have to do something. She didn't know if she could defend the house against three people, one with a big rifle, but she would have to try.
She looked around, trying to figure out what to do with herself. Should she start shooting from the window now? Should she wait until they tried to break in? She swallowed as bile rose in her throat.
Outside, the driver took a few steps forward. Gravel crunched beneath his boots. Finally, he spoke.
"Annie?"
Jack!
Annie threw the front door open and stood staring in the doorway with her mouth open.
Was it him, or was her mind playing tricks on her? Could it really be him, finally?
"Annie! Oh, God, it's you!" his familiar voice came.
Annie tried to push the screen door open, forgetting it had been latched, and fumbling with it in frustration. Finally, she emerged from the house just as he set his rifle down and ran up the porch.
"Jack! It's you!"
He bounded the steps and then, just like that, he was standing before her. Her eyes moved over his face quickly, still in shock and confusion, and then he took her in his arms.
She felt her shoulders shake from a mix of laughter and tears as she held him close.
“You finally made it back to me,” she said, murmuring into his chest.
He pulled back to look at her, studying her face in the darkness.
“I was so afraid this house would be empty,” he said, trailing the back of his hand down her cheek. “I was so afraid I’d lost you.”
She nodded, tears falling from her eyes. “I was so afraid I’d lost you.”
She looked over the bruises and cuts on his face, the long stubble marking the passage of time, the way he held his body – he was clearly in pain from various injuries.
He had been through so much – they both had. The weight of it all hit her all at once. They had come so close to losing each other. She buried her face against his jacket once more, and he held her tight.
The sound of movement behind her startled her.
“It’s about time you showed up.”
Jack looked up to see Charlotte standing behind them on the porch, leaning against the doorway with a big grin on her face.
“Charlotte?” he asked. “Is that you?”
“In the flesh.”
Jack returned the smile, happy to see another familiar face, and glad that his wife hadn’t been alone all this time. He turned to look at the Porsche. “Whose car is that?”
Annie looked back at Charlotte. “Long story,” Annie said, her eyes sparkling. “But how did you make it all the way from LA?” she asked. “Whose truck is that?”
Jack turned to the Bronco to see Brent and Naomi getting out of the vehicle.
“I guess we all have some catching up to do,” Jack said. “But first, introductions.”
38
"More reconstituted mashed potatoes, Naomi?" Annie asked as she passed the serving bowl around the table. "They at least remind you of homemade."
Naomi laughed and took the bowl from Annie. Jack looked down at his own plate as he finished up his first serving, then took seconds of everything. It was the first decent meal he'd had in a week, and he was ravenous.
Across the table, Brent and Charlotte were laughing about the antics of some minor Austin celebrities. The two had never before met, but they had hit it off in a friendly kind of way.
The five of them had slept in – rising with the sun would begin tomorrow, they agreed – and were now enjoying lunch prepared over the gas stove from an assortment of items from the pantry.
Jack watched as Annie exchanged some pleasantries with Naomi. Jack had told his wife about Naomi's story, and how she had reluctantly accepted his help. Annie was happy to help out the young woman, especially after all Naomi had been through.
As for Brent, Annie had met him a few times before at Jack's office parties. He seemed a bit more mature this time around, which was good. Maybe surviving the attacks had made them all wise up a little.
Jack had been a little nervous to bring two new people to the house, but Annie was so far pleased. The ranch house was a little isolated, it was true, especially since most of the neighbors Jack had grown up with had moved away over the years. The extra company not only made the house less lonely, but the extra hands would be welcome as they set about making the homestead self-sustainable.
Naomi, for her part, seemed unsure of her new surroundings, but open to the change. In any case, the despondency that had taken root on her face seemed to be lightening. She knew that LA was no longer a place she could survive in, and she was grateful to the Hawthornes for giving her a new home.
After lunch, Jack and Annie excused themselves for a walk around the property. They left Naomi and Brent in charge of clean-up, and Charlotte returned to the living room to rest.
"Thanks for taking care of my wife while I was gone," Jack said to Charlotte as he walked past the couch and headed toward the front door.
Charlotte laughed. "More like she took care of me!"
Jack smiled. He had already heard the stories, and his comment was tongue-in-cheek.
"Really, Jack, you should see her with that gun!" Charlotte said, grinning at Annie. "She's a modern day Annie Oakley. I wouldn't get on her bad side if I were you."
Jack winked at his wife. "I won't."
Outside, Jack and Annie stepped out on the porch. Jack turned to look at her, and she gave him a smile.
It was that smile he had missed so much. He still could hardly believe he was back home.
"I thought you didn't hear me on the phone that day," he said. "I thought I'd have to go
all the way to Austin to find you."
"Wait, when? What did you think I didn’t hear?" Annie asked, frowning.
Jack looked at her. "Just before we lost the connection. I told you to get out of Austin, to come here."
Annie shook her head. "No, I never heard you. But it didn't take long to figure out that the city was too dangerous. This was the best option we had. Especially when our house was taken over by squatters."
Jack felt a rush of anxiety as he recalled Annie’s stories of her encounters. All the near misses. He had come so close to never seeing her again.
The anxiety was quickly replaced by elation as it hit him just how lucky he had been. He scooped her up around her waist and carried her playfully down the stairs as she yelped and laughed in his ear. He returned her to her feet on a clump of grass near the front step.
The two walked hand-in-hand toward the backyard. She talked excitedly to him about her ideas for the garden. He did his best to listen, but he often found his thoughts drifting to the horrors he had seen in White Rock.
Last night, Jack had told Annie the summary about what had happened there, but he hadn't gone over every gory detail. She had listened with wide eyes, shocked by what he had seen in Arizona.
Today, he walked with a rifle slung over his shoulder. He didn't know if he'd ever be able to let his guard down again. And he figured that was a good thing.
"With five of us, our food supply won't last through the winter," Annie said. "I'm hoping I can get some potatoes and cabbage going."
Jack nodded. "We might have to go out and do some scavenging in abandoned houses or stores. We’ll need more food sooner or later. It’s better to stock up now. And I want to fill the gas tanks up, maybe find some more warm clothes. Odds and ends."
Annie turned to look at him with fear in her eyes. "I hate the idea of going back out there. It's so dangerous.” She sighed. “But I know you're right. We don't have enough here."
They stood before the old garden patch, which was overrun with hearty weeds.
