We Won't Go Quietly: A Family's Struggle to Survive in a World Devolved (Book Three of the What's Left of My World Series)

by C. A. Rudolph

  “I prefer to call it what it is. Torture. And mind-numbing absurdity. I can’t imagine why anyone would want to do this to themselves.”

  “You act like it’s the worst thing you’ve ever done, and I know for a fact that’s not the case.”

  Grace shot her eyes at Lauren. “Sure. Hit me while I’m down with my seamy past. I love when you do that.”

  “Sorry, I was just playing,” said Lauren, her face scrunching. “Blame the runner’s high—it gets me a little excited. Can’t you feel the endorphins flowing through you?”

  “All I feel is pain flowing through me,” Grace said. “I think you sometimes forget how different we are—you and I aren’t built the same, love. I’ve never been an athlete—you’re the one who wound up with those genes.” Grace held her breath for a moment. “How the hell did you get like this, anyway? Wait, let me guess—when you weren’t hiking, camping, fishing, or shooting guns with Dad, you two went to the gym together. Is that it?”

  Lauren giggled and shook her head in the negative. “No. No—we had a home gym in the basement.”

  “Right. See what I mean? I knew the story even before I read it. I swear—I know I watched you do like twenty freakin’ pull-ups the other day.”

  Lauren beamed. “Twenty-two.”

  Grace threw up her hands. “Damn it to hell. Next time, I’m running with Lee. I’m sure I could match his pace.”

  “Well, Lee’s pace is walking, so…”

  “Yeah—you know what? Make fun all you like,” Grace said. “You can keep all those presidential awards you got in phys ed. I’m perfectly content being mired in unsatisfactory flexed-arm-hang mode for life.”

  “Stop it,” Lauren said, stepping closer. She put a hand on Grace’s shoulder and squeezed. “Look, I know this is probably a bad time to ask, but do you still plan on going hiking with me after we get back? I was really looking forward to that.”

  Grace frowned and shook her head. “Well, let’s see. Let’s assess the situation. My hips hurt. My knees hurt. My calf muscles feel like a bag of rocks, my shins are on fire, my toes are blistered, and my heart is getting ready to explode. And to top it all off, I’m starting to feel a migraine coming on.”

  Lauren nodded. She lowered her head in disappointment. “That’s a no, then, I take it.”

  Grace looked up into the sky, took in a deep breath and offered her sister a gracious smile. “Sister, as much as I hate to say this…I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

  “You’re serious?”

  “Of course I’m serious. I’ve been wanting to see this place since you first told me about it. Granted, you might have to carry me up there today, but I still want to go with you.”

  Lauren smiled. “Cool. Not sure about the carrying you part, though.”

  Grace held up a finger. “Fine. I’ll go under my own power—but only on one condition.” She limped to a tree at the edge of the road and leaned into it, stretching her calves. “We walk the rest of the way back.”

  Lauren chuckled. “I think that’s acceptable—in light of your unsatisfactory condition. I’d hate to see you move into the afterlife before ever experiencing Big Schloss.”

  “My unsatisfactory condition, huh?” mumbled Grace. “Okay, you got jokes today, I see. That’s all right. You’ll eat those words someday. You’re going to feel differently when you get old.”

  “Grace, please. You’re in your twenties—but I swear, you act like you’re fifty.”

  “That’s because I was cursed with a body that ages in dog years,” Grace said, leaning further into her stretch. “Just tell me this hike isn’t like straight up the freaking mountain. It’s not hard, is it?”

  “Who are you, and what have you done with my sister?” Lauren probed. “Seriously—that’s the second or third time today you’ve substituted the F word.”

  Grace took a seat on the road and reached for her toes to stretch her hamstrings. “So? Do you consider that peculiar or something?”

  “For you? Yes.”

  “And why would that be?” Grace inquired, almost in song.

  “Grace, hello? I know you. You typically exploit the word fuck like it’s a punctuation mark. What’s with this effin’, friggin’, and freaking shit?”

  Grace shrugged dismissively, pushing out her lower lip. “I’m turning over a new leaf. I figure…it’s time for a change. So, while I know you and many others were fond of her, you all must say goodbye to Grace the potty mouth. A new, more eloquent Grace has been sent in to replace her. Out with the old, and in with the new friggin’ me.”

  Lauren laughed as her eyebrows shot to the sky. “You’ll never stick by it.”

  “O ye of little faith. You just watch me. Now, seriously…stop evading my question.”

  “What question?”

  Grace let out a sigh. “My question concerning the damn trail you’re taking me on.”

  Lauren rolled her eyes playfully. “I think I’ll just let you see it for yourself.”

  Grace rose and folded her arms over her chest. She rolled her lips between her teeth and stared at Lauren crossly. “So it’s hard, then, is that it? As in not easy. Is that what you’re trying to tell me without actually telling me?”

  “It’s a game trail, Grace. They’re not maintained for human passage. So, no. Generally speaking, it isn’t easy. And we’ll be taking our rifles and packs along with us, so we’ll be carrying extra weight.”

  “Fantastic,” muttered Grace.

  Once Grace’s respite reached a conclusion, the two made their way across the valley and back home to the cabin. Lauren and Grace went inside, donned packs and slung rifles, and then proceeded to the back of the property to the entrance of the game trail leading up Mill Mountain.

  Grace stood at the access point and studied it for a moment with suspicious eyes, paying particularly close attention to its rising slope along the steep ascent. “That’s it?” She pointed up the trail. “It doesn’t look hard to me at all.”

  Lauren glanced over. “Are you sure about that?”

  “Yep,” said Grace with a nod. “I’m positive. It looks more like a total and complete bitch.”

  Lauren allowed a giggle to slip out. “Well, at least its looks aren’t deceiving.”

  The duo began the steep not-so-gradual ascent up and along the game trail, which would eventually lead them through a set of switchbacks, ending at an intersection with Mill Mountain Trail, which spanned Great North Mountain for six miles from the Tuscarora Trail junction to Wolf Gap. From there, they would head north for a distance until they reached Big Schloss Spur Trail. Taking a right and following it eastward, it would bring them to their intended destination, a place Lauren had not visited in weeks—although to her, it felt more like months.

  Lauren reached the first switchback on the hike and turned the corner, with Grace lagging not far behind. She stopped, checked on her sister’s progress below, and pointed up the trail. “This is the section the animals got right for you. It gets easier from here on out.”

  Grace took a moment to catch her breath before swallowing a drink of water and responding, “You’re certain? Or are you just yanking my crank again?”

  “Yanking your crank?”

  “Yeah. It means pulling my leg…or bullshitting. It’s a hillbilly colloquialism,” Grace explained between breaths.

  “That’s good info,” Lauren jeered. “I never knew that. Glad I do now, though. You’ve said you’ve been reading a lot lately.”

  “I didn’t read that in a book, smarty-pants. I overheard one of the Bradys say it. I inferred its meaning from the context of the conversation, like clever people do.”

  Lauren turned away and continued along the switchback to the next turn. “Sounds like a stimulating hobby.”

  “Oh, and by that, you mean listening?” Grace quipped. “And paying attention to what other people are doing and saying? Yes—it can be rather stimulating. You should try it some time.”

  “So my sister is turning o
ver new leaves and finding new hobbies. And here, all this time I could’ve sworn she was just devoting her free time to some fellow whose name rhymes with Christian.”

  Grace lifted her middle finger playfully in her sister’s direction. “Shows how much you know about me.”

  At the beginning of the next switchback, Lauren unslung her rifle from her shoulder, readjusted the sling and slipped it over her neck so it would hang across her chest, just as she had always done before while patrolling the trails miles away from home. Observing Lauren’s actions, Grace followed suit by doing the same, although more awkwardly than her seasoned younger sister.

  As they neared the intersection with Mill Mountain Trail where the mountain began to plateau, Grace’s head snapped left upon seeing motion in the woods. She reacted—suddenly turning her body and her rifle to face the potential threat.

  Chapter 11

  Mill Mountain

  Hardy County, West Virginia

  Thanksgiving. Thursday, November 25th. Present day

  “Contact left!” Grace shouted, immediately clutching Lauren’s attention. She moved swiftly to a covered position behind the closest tree wide enough to offer it. She dropped to one knee and brought her rifle to the ready, snapping off the safety and preparing to fire.

  Lauren circled low and moved through the thicket to a spot not far behind and to Grace’s left. The buttstock of her rifle already at her shoulder and tight to her cheek, she adjusted her aim in the direction of where she assumed the threat was located, using Grace’s aim to pilot her way.

  Lauren dropped into a low crouch and closed the distance with Grace. She couldn’t see anything, but could hear hoarse, extended hissing sounds along with an occasional grunt. Suddenly, several large vultures—some twice the size of others in their wake—extended their wings and flew off angrily into the trees above, leaving whatever had brought them there to remain hidden amidst the scrub, laurel, and underbrush.

  Lauren reached forward and put her palm gently on Grace’s left shoulder. “I’m going in to check it out. Watch my six.”

  Grace nodded at the expression, only having recently learned what it meant.

  Lauren marched carefully forward to get a closer look at what the vultures had been making such a fuss over. She presumed she would find a human corpse, long since deceased, but to her surprise and to her relief, the deceased was a deer carcass splayed out on its side.

  Lauren took a breath, gradually lowered her weapon and turned to Grace. She waved her hand across her face with her palm facing outward—the hand signal for cease fire or ‘all clear’. “I think this threat was neutralized long before we ever got here.”

  Grace lowered her rifle and stood upright, snapping the safety back on. She shuffled to Lauren and exhaled through her nose upon noticing the dead animal. “Well, shit.” She pointed at the buzzards overhead. “Suppose they killed it?”

  “I think buzzards are just scavengers. I don’t think they take down live animals. Something else must’ve killed it.”

  “Yeah,” mumbled Grace. “Or maybe someone.”

  Lauren let out a breath. “You know—you scared the living bejesus out of me just now.”

  “Sorry. I only did what you’ve been teaching me to do. And all things being equal, I think I reacted appropriately. I saw motion in the woods to my left, yelled ‘contact left’, and ascertained it.”

  “Engaged. You engaged it.”

  Grace rolled her eyes. “Whatever. You should be proud of me.”

  “Oh, I am,” Lauren said, pushing the hair from her eyes. “I’m very proud of you. Way to be aware, Grace. Good reflexes, too.”

  Grace turned. “Really?”

  “Absolutely. You had the target…dead to rights the whole time.” A smile gradually appeared on Lauren’s face.

  “Stop it. Be serious.”

  “I am being serious. You really got the drop on him. I’m dead serious.”

  “Aaand the jokes continue,” Grace hissed. “Round and round and round Lauren goes. Where she’ll stop, no one knows.”

  Lauren snickered. “You were ready to terminate him with extreme prejudice. And you could have…if he wasn’t already dead.” Lauren pointed to the tree limbs above, where the vultures were busily flapping their wings, perceptibly irritated their meal had been interrupted. “Wanna take a few shots at some live targets while we’re here? Test that deadeye of yours?”

  “Okay, that’s not even remotely funny,” Grace hissed again, her annoyance increasing steadily. “What the hell’s with you, anyway? The runner’s high should’ve worn off by now.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “Oh, nothing,” said Grace. “Just that oddly enough, you’ve been in a perpetually good mood for the past few weeks. It’s…unheard of.”

  “It’s not unheard of. Unusual, maybe. I’ll give you that.”

  “Please. It’s uncharacteristic. You’re never in a good mood.”

  “Jeez, Grace—how am I supposed to take that?”

  “However you like…for the longest time, you were so serious and glum,” explained Grace. “And lately, you’ve been…I don’t know, it’s like you’re glowing. You’ve been literally glowing for weeks now.”

  Lauren shuffled to the side. “I’m not glowing. I know for a fact I’m not glowing, because I don’t glow. I’ve never glowed.”

  “Okay, fine. What would you call it, then?”

  Lauren shrugged. “I brood. I mostly brood and mope, with an occasional scowl. I suppose I brighten up sometimes while I’m brooding—but I most definitely do not glow.”

  “Okay, whatever. Call it what you want, sister. But fact is, you’re different now. It’s like you’ve found your center or something, or maybe even harnessed your chi. You’re just—different.”

  “Great. I’m different. That’s good to know.”

  “In a good way,” Grace clarified.

  “Well, that’s certainly reassuring.”

  “Yay—more sarcasm from the younger sister. Stop it, please. I’m trying to be serious here.”

  Lauren paused a moment, shifting her tone. “I don’t know—maybe you’re right. But I don’t know the first thing about harnessing—”

  “Chi,” Grace inserted.

  “Yeah. That. Whatever that is.”

  “Love, I’m not kidding with you about this, and it’s…not a bad thing at all. You even look different now. You carry yourself with a renewed confidence…a better one than the one you had before. You even sound different, too—like your voice has changed somehow.” Grace paused and tilted her head curiously. “Are you taking steroids?”

  “Hardy har.”

  Grace lifted a brow. “It’s just a question. No need to get defensive.”

  “I believe we’ve already had this conversation before, so enough psychoanalyzing me,” Lauren said. “Besides, you don’t have any room to talk, you know—telling me I’m glowing—telling me I’m different, etcetera. You’re the one who’s been literally radiating lately, Grace. You stopped wearing those old pajamas Mom gave you and you’re shaving your legs again. You brush your hair now. You even started putting on perfume. I don’t even own perfume.” She paused and grinned. “And by the way, I have no idea where you found a razor worth a damn, but I want to borrow it.”

  Grace smiled. “So? So what? I’m happy, and I’ve adapted. At least I can admit it.”

  Lauren shook her head, sighed, and strolled over to the animal carcass. She knelt beside it and, after spending a moment studying it, looked around at the surrounding grounds with a skeptical eye. “There’s no indication of any gunshot wounds.”

  “Nice forensic analysis, Grissom,” Grace poked. “Come across any evidence of foul play? Any superficial clues? Any blood? Or semen, perhaps?”

  Lauren glanced over her shoulder at her rifle-toting sister with the million-dollar smile. “Now who’s got jokes? Tell me, Willows…what does the evidence uncovered at this particular crime scene tell us?”

  Gr
ace smiled. She stood tall, pushed her chest out, and said, “That it was, in fact, not a homicide.”

  Lauren nodded her agreement as the conversation’s tone lost some of its levity. “Indeed.”

  “I’m glad,” Grace said, returning to her normal character and sounding relieved. “I don’t need to be worrying about someone up here stalking around in what’s practically our backyard—doing God knows what.”

  Lauren nodded. “Yeah. I think we can switch back to yellow alert. I don’t imagine many hunters go out and kill a deer anymore without taking it with them.”

  Grace nodded her recognition and moved closer. “Especially with food being so scarce. Speaking of which, is it of any use to us?”

  Lauren pointed at the mangled flesh the vultures had been gnawing on. “I don’t think so,” she said. “It’s also been above freezing still, and we have no way of knowing how long this guy has been dead. Looks like he died naturally though, strangely enough.”

  “It definitely wasn’t old age,” added Grace.

  Lauren stood up and let her rifle droop to her weak side. “Let’s get going before the vulture committee decides we’re competition—or worse, another animal jumps out at us from the woods. Stay alert, though. You never know, Grace. The next one might have a gun.”

  Grace pushed her sister forcibly on the shoulder as she walked by. “Jesus. You’re a riot. Stifle it, already.”

  After thirty minutes of uneventful hiking along the trails of Mill Mountain, Lauren and Grace reached the wooden bridge that stretched across a deep chasm, marking the entrance to Big Schloss. Lauren moved quickly across while her older sibling halted and took in the view of the valley through the leafless trees.

  Grace let her rifle hang by its sling, placing both hands on the railing. “Jesus. Of all the times not to have a camera.”

  “That’s nothing,” Lauren said, motioning for Grace to follow. “Wait till you get to the top.”

  Moments later, they continued to the outcropping. Lauren took Grace’s pack and rifle and helped her scramble upward over the rocks and onto the peak.

  Once back on her feet, Grace moved to the highest point and stood silently for several minutes without saying a word until she felt so inspired. “You know, love, I used to hate the outdoors. I still do, sometimes, but not this. This…this is amazing.”