The Irrevocable Series Boxed Set

by Samantha Jacobey

  At the far end, on the last table of the row, the older group of the young people had gathered, and seemed to be having a meeting of sorts, which Caleb appeared to be in charge of. However, as soon as Bailey approached, a silence settled over them, and they only stared at the newcomer as if she was grotesquely deformed and they had been struck speechless.

  Raising her hand in a small wave, “Hi, guys,” she managed in a small voice, with a tiny grin to back it up.

  Amanda Knight, a tall girl at five-foot eleven-inches, tossed her long blond curls over her shoulder and quipped, “I think you’re in th’ wrong group. The kid’s table’s over there,” she wafted her hand at the other end of the patio, where the younger crowd had gathered to check out the boys’ new toys and gifts.

  Raising her chin, Bailey countered, “Sorry, I’m not a child,” which brought a round of snickers from the rest of the young adults.

  “Oh yeah? I guess you need t’ prove that, then,” she issued her challenge without hesitation.

  “’Manda, stop it,” Caleb bit sharply, glancing between them.

  “Make me,” she shot back, still sneering at the girl’s auburn locks. “Le’s get outta here; head over t’ th’ stables fur a bit.”

  “Ok,” Bailey instantly agreed, not even sure what would be in store once they got there, but unwilling to appear weak in the eyes of her new nemesis. She noted that Caleb slowly shook his head at her, but she felt unwilling to alter the plan, and followed the young people sedately.

  Exiting through the front of the diner, the group ambled along the asphalt, all the way to the main gate. The entourage laughed and joked with one another as they moved, and Bailey could tell they were good friends, probably having known each other for years, if not all their lives.

  Taking the dirt path that ran between the barn and wall, their pace seemed unrushed, and she began to feel more relaxed in their midst, with an odd desire to be accepted by them. She noticed that the tallest girl had quite a muscular build, and could easily have become a model with her gorgeous features and long golden waves. Back home, she would have been just the sort of girl Bailey would have hung out with, being the cream of the crop and perfect cheerleader material, even with the attitude.

  Arriving at the stables, she had thought they would follow the curve and move around to the canopy and corral, but instead, they continued into the grass behind the row of stalls and scattered about beneath one of the trees. Dropping onto the ground, the gathering created a large circle, striking relaxed poses in the shade of the largest of the three.

  Leaning against the trunk, Caleb assumed the position of leader, his harem spread out before him. Moving to take her place next to him, Bailey felt determined to fit in.

  In the blink of an eye, the tall blonde snatched a handful of auburn hair and yanked her back, “Where the fuck ya think yur goin’?” She released her, allowing her to stand straight, awaiting her explanation.

  “Excuse you,” the girl rubbed her tender scalp, aware she had never been in a physical fight with anyone in her life, not counting Ked.

  “Ah no, you don’ sit by him. In fact, you go sit over in th’ pig’s stall,” she raised her hand to indicate the long barn and pens they had recently passed.

  “What the hell’s the matter with you?” Bailey demanded loudly, drawing herself up to her full height and squaring off with the young woman. Remaining about two inches short of matching the local, she refused to back down, “Are you jealous or something?”

  “Jealous my ass,” the other girl flew into a rage at her obstinate attitude, lurching forward and knocking the smaller girl to the ground. Sitting on her belly, she began to beat her in the face, her knuckles skinned and burning where she punched her while the rest of the girls watched in surprise.

  Bailey could hear Caleb’s deeper voice screaming Amanda’s name, and a moment later the girl had been removed from her chest. Rolling over, she buried her face in her hands, sobbing at the blood that covered her fingers. She felt the warm sticky ooze coating them, and her body trembled at the rush of adrenaline that coursed through her veins.

  At his urging, the collection of gawkers moved on, taking her attacker with them. Once the area had cleared, he rested his hand on her back and knelt down beside her. “Here, little bit, come on. Lemme see,” he pulled at her shoulder, trying to maneuver her and get a look at the damage.

  Reluctantly, she obeyed, sitting back on her heels with her toes pressed into the ground beneath her. Peering up at him, a stream of blood ran from her forehead into her eye, and he immediately pressed a thumb against it, applying pressure to the gaping wound, “Well, fuck.” He held her there for a moment, then bade her to follow, pulling her to her feet.

  On the wall of the barn, he located the spigot and opened it up enough to get a good flow. “Come on, le’s give it a wash so we can see how bad it is.”

  Kneeling on the uphill side, Bailey laid her face into the cascade, washing away the blood for a few minutes. Blinking, she could see the tainted water creep slowly across the brown soil, creating a large, dark puddle. Raising her chin, her teeth chattering lightly, she allowed him to inspect the damage. Watching his furrowed brow, she realized the prognosis wouldn’t be good.

  “I think you need stitches,” he finally muttered.

  “Why’d she do that?” the girl queried, on the verge of more tears.

  “You were right, she’s a bit jealous. Thinks we need t’ get back together, but that ain’ hapnin’.” He pulled off his shirt and rolled it, “Here, hold this against it,” he guided her hands to position them. “That’s it… keep it snug.”

  “She’s your girlfriend?” Bailey breathed, finding her feet when he grasped her arms and lifted her.

  “She was. Not anymore; not in over a year,” he released her and cut off the valve. “Kathy’s the nurse; come on an’ we’ll get her t’ fix you up.”

  Making their way back to the diner, Bailey waited outside, holding the cloth firmly to her forehead while Caleb located the woman in charge of medical in the community. Large tears stained her cheeks once more when he returned, which only made him feel worse than he already did. Dropping an arm across her shoulders, he held her against his bare chest, and the pair followed the nurse to her small office located in the southeast corner of the compound, across from a windmill.

  Once the girl sat on her table and lowered the rag, Kathy made her assessment. “So, what happened here?” she asked nonchalantly.

  “I fell,” Bailey stated immediately, while Caleb glared at her in surprise.

  The older woman shifted her eyes to the girl, then over to the young man, waiting for a truthful response; she could easily see her patient had been in a fight. When neither of them made any effort to change the story, she shrugged, “Ok,” emitting an exaggerated sigh.

  Fifteen minutes later, the pair exited the small room, a bandage covering the row of stitches for the moment. “You’ll need t’ pull that off so air can get t’ them, but you wanna keep it clean,” Caleb informed her as they strolled up the sandy path. Arriving at his house, which lay at the intersection where the dirt road met the pavement, but on the opposite side, he pointed it out for her, “This’s our place.”

  “Yes, I figured that out,” she smiled slightly as they took the next minor thoroughfare that ran beside the water tower and led to the ranch house. “How long have you guys been here?” she asked in a quiet voice, still unsure if she really wanted to expose her curiosity. Glancing at him, she noted his features did not appear angry at her prying, seeming almost eager to share with her.

  “All my life,” he replied with a grin. “My dad an’ mom started building this as soon as he was out o’ the military, an’ I was born the same year the house was finished. Your uncle moved th’ house the Knights live in out here a couple o’ years later, an’ he an’ Brenda lived in it until the ranch house was finished an’ the Foxes joined us.”

  “You knew my aunt?” she squinted at him, as the sunset hung
behind his wide shoulders and glistened on his golden skin.

  “Yeah, I did. She was a real nice lady.” He paused, having arrived at the veranda that covered two sides of her current residence, “I’m really sorry, Bailey. She had no right to attack you.”

  “It’s ok,” the girl faltered, toying with the bloody shirt she still carried, “I’ve never been in a fight before. Not really sure that getting beat up even qualifies,” she snickered. “But, I’ve managed to do it twice since I met you.”

  “Yeah, well, you need to learn,” he pushed his hands away from his body, indicating there was no argument with what he suggested.

  “Learn what?” she lifted her chin and swallowed, her gaze flickering across his muscles to look him in the eye.

  “How to fight. How to defend yourself. You don’ wanna live the rest o’ your life bein’ helpless, do you?” his words smacked of disdain.

  “I’m not helpless!” she quipped in a loud voice, “And I don’t need to be insulted after the day I’ve had!”

  “Well, you need somethin’,” he replied, “‘Manda’s tough, an’ I warned you; you’ll either get with the program or you’ll never make it here.” Turning abruptly, he called over his shoulder, “Keep the shirt.” Ending the conversation, he headed back towards his own home, eager to get away from her before he said anything he might actually regret.

  Heads or Tails

  Peter Mason eyed the cut on his niece’s forehead angrily the following morning. “Care to explain that?” he gripped his fork tightly, using it to point at the fresh wound.

  “I fell,” Bailey stuck to her story.

  “Fell? On what, a fuckin’ flight o’ stairs?” his face grew red at her dishonesty.

  Bailey stared at her plate, pushing her scrambled eggs around nervously, “You shouldn’t talk that way in front of the boys,” she mumbled.

  “Don’t change the fuckin’ subject!” he smacked the table with a clenched fist, causing the youngsters and the Foxes to all jump at the rattle of the dishes.

  Rising to pick up their plates, Connie took the boys into the kitchen and set them up at the smaller table, out of the way should the disagreement in the dining room escalate. Returning to her seat at the opposite end of long flat surface, she stared calmly at Pete, waiting to see how he would handle the girl’s deceitfulness.

  “I’m not gonna ask you again,” he made a subtle threat.

  “I got in a fight, ok?” the girl didn’t look at him.

  “With whom?” his anger evident, Peter enunciated each word clearly. When she failed to respond, he demanded, “Did Caleb do that to you?”

  Bailey’s face shot up, her jaw dropped slightly, “No, he didn’t! Look,” her eyes darted away for an instant, “Why do you keep thinking he would hurt me? He wouldn’t, ok?” He’s been nothing but nice to me, she admitted to herself with a fixed jaw.

  Her uncle returned to his food, taking several large bites and allowing his blood pressure to return to normal. After the lengthy pause, he tried again, “I just wanna know what happened.”

  “One of the girls jumped me,” Bailey confessed in a small voice. “Nobody likes me here, and she said I couldn’t sit with them. She told me to go sit with the pigs.” She heard Jim snort loudly, suppressing a laugh, and she shifted her gaze over to him.

  The old man stared at her, “Ain’t s’ tough, are ya?”

  The girl shook her head slowly, “No. I wasn’t raised to fight with people.”

  He chuckled loudly, “Well, I figure you’ll learn. An’ the sooner th’ better.”

  Peter pushed his empty plate back, placing his elbows on the table and folding his hands together in front of his face. “We need t’ have a meeting.”

  “We’ve had enough meetings,” Connie cut in. “We all said our piece. You need t’ take it to heart, Peter Mason; get this girl outta here while you still can.” Rising abruptly, she gathered the empty platters and headed to the kitchen to begin the day’s chores.

  Bailey stared after her, curious at her words, while feeling somewhat vindicated. I’ve known in my gut since we got here that I wasn’t safe. “What did she mean by that?” she asked quietly, speaking to the two men who remained in the room with her.

  The pair exchanged a long, silent stare, before returning their attention to her. “What she means is, you’re right. Most of the community is against you staying here,” Pete confessed in a much lower voice. “It’s not you, ok?” He offered a brief justification, “They’ve all worked really hard to build what we have…” The old man grunted, and the explanation trailed away.

  “We gotta lot at stake here,” the silver haired gent took over, “An’ don’ nobody wanna lose it due to an outsider.”

  “What about the boys?” she demanded sharply, fear gripping her that they could be harmed.

  Her uncle exhaled loudly, “They’re different,” he confessed, “They’re younger, an’ can still become a seamless part o’ the community. You, on the other hand, are older. Less likely you can learn what you need to know. An’ then there’s the trust issue…” His voice disappeared again, his conflict evident on his face.

  “I see,” she sat up straighter. Her lip quivered slightly, “So what is it that you guys have been working so hard for; what’re you so afraid of losing?” Her face crinkled, her own anger breaking through.

  The men shared another glance, and the old man answered calmly, “The end o’ the world. When it comes, only th’ strong survives, an’ nothin’ the rest o’ the world’s doin’ right now’s gonna matter.”

  Bailey’s jaw dropped as she recalled their reaction to the volcano eruption, and she stared with wide eyes; were they serious about that? “The end of the world? Are you people crazy?” she gasped, unable to keep the shock out of her voice. Maybe they’re more than hypersensitive; maybe they really believe it!

  “No, we’re not crazy,” her uncle answered directly, “The end is comin’, an’ we intend to be ready for it. I know most people agree with us on some level, but what they lack is the conviction to do anything about it. We’ve been working for twenty years to prepare. We’re ready, one way or the other.”

  “Is that why you wanted the boys?” she asked breathlessly, unsure how he would react to her hinted accusation, and unable to make heads or tails of their insane notions.

  “I never had any kids. But my sister did, an’ I’m left with hers, if that’s what you mean by wanted,” Peter stated calmly, hoping to reach the girl with some words of wisdom and to diffuse her animosity. “I’m responsible for you; an’ the boys.”

  “You don’t have to take care of us. I can get a job and support us – we don’t need you,” Bailey shot back crisply, driven by the desire to grab her siblings and run.

  His eyes burned into her, the air passing over his lips making an odd hissing sound. Watching his shifting features, she could feel the tightening in her gut, and she laid her fork on the table to hide her trembling digits.

  “You don’t need me? Like you’re gonna take care of a pair o’ ten year old boys all by yourself! You’re seventeen years old, Bailey; you got your whole life ahead of you. The last thing you need to do is throw it all away on a foolish plan such as that,” he berated, his words cutting deeply.

  “What the hell do you mean my whole life ahead of me? Why don’t you make up your mind?” she fumed, “One minute you’re telling me our world is going to end and we have nothing to live for and the next you make it sound like I’m stupid for wanting to be responsible!” She tossed her head, refusing to let fear dissuade her from making her case.

  “We plan so we’re ready, but we can’t quit livin’ our lives, the ones we have now. Yeah, our world is gonna end. It’s inevitable that the human race’ll one day fall away,” the veins were visible in his neck as he spoke. “An’ I plan on bein’ one of the ones that makes it. But it may not be in my lifetime. Or yours. We don’ get t’ know that part. All we know is, it’s comin’, an’ we need to be ready.”


  “Then you take care of the boys, and I’ll go,” she pouted slightly as she made the suggestion. “They’re boys after all. They’ll like the things you want us to learn, but I don’t need this… any of this.” She glanced unconsciously at her healing blisters, able to admit she had no real desire to be a part of the community or its efforts.

  “You don’t need it right this minute, but when the shit hits the fan, you’re gonna need it to survive,” he countered smoothly.

  “Isn’t that what you have all that food stashed away for? So you can survive?” she quipped, not having seen the stockpiles, but aware that they were there, somewhere hidden away.

  Pete’s jaw dropped slightly at her casual mention of his hard work and years of preparation, “I don’t ever wanna hear you say another damn thing about what’s stashed away, you got that? There’s people that would take it away from us, by force if necessary, when the time comes that we need it.” He waited for her slow nod before he continued to chastise her.

  “As far as what I want you to learn, it’s the thing that’ll ensure your survival, not the stores. They only get us a year or so, if we’re lucky. It’s what we know about how to provide for ourselves that’ll determine if we make it or not,” his eyes glittered as he finished. “Either way, you ain’t leavin’. Your parents are dead, an’ that means your well-being falls t’ me. It’s my job to look out for you, an’ that’s exactly what I’m gonna do.”

  Bailey cut her eyes over at the old man, who had listened to the exchange in silence, his deep green eyes evaluating what each of them had said. Dropping to gaze at his fleshy lips, she wondered where he stood on the issue. “Is that how you see things? If I’m not wanted here… Why would you make me stay?”

  The old man didn’t respond, his eyes cutting over at the other man for a moment before he stood. His face grim, he shuffled across the floor and exited through the front, headed to the door and the pathway beyond.

  The Meek