Nodding, Raven said, “What do we tell the others?”
“The truth,” Wilson said. “The whole truth and nothing but.”
Epilogue
Wilson’s lipstick-red Chevy Tahoe rounded the corner in front of the Antlers at exactly 3:00 p.m. Cleanup from the Pueblo Survivors ceremony was still ongoing, but the streets in the area were opened back up to civilian travel.
The rain clouds that had threatened the ceremony moved on to the west, giving way to blue sky dotted with high clouds.
Raven, Duncan, Taryn, and Wilson stood shoulder to shoulder on the curb, waiting. At Raven’s feet, Max sat on his haunches, looking expectantly at the approaching SUV.
The Tahoe pulled smartly to the curb, the passenger window already motoring down. Hinging over, Cade met Wilson’s gaze. “Want to drive?”
Hands on hips, Wilson simply shook his head.
Cade said, “Get in.” Moving an overstuffed manila envelope off the passenger seat, he regarded Raven. “What’s this latest clandestine operation you’ve cooked up?”
Stowing her SBR by her feet and closing the door, she said, “Patience is a virtue.” Another one of Duncan’s sayings.
Max jumped in back first and sat on the seat near the middle.
While Taryn took the seat behind Cade, on the other side of the Tahoe Duncan was forcing Wilson in ahead of him.
Wilson glared at Duncan. “Really? Bitch seat? In my own rig? Even Max here has a better view.”
“Get in,” growled Duncan. “I’m the one with the bad back.”
Pulling from the curb, Cade said, “You’ve no one to blame but yourself, Old Man. Those helos didn’t crash themselves.”
“Controlled landings,” grumbled Duncan.
Smiling at that, Cade said, “Where to, daughter of mine?”
Raven gave directions that took them past Penrose and deep into the Northern District. As they passed a burned-out convenience store, Cade directed her attention to the manila envelope. “Take a look inside.”
From the backseat, Duncan said, “What did I get for Christmas, Santa?”
“If one of you can reach my ruck in the cargo area”—Cade met Duncan’s gaze in the rearview mirror—“you’ll find Old Man’s present packed close to the top.”
With his long wingspan, Wilson got ahold of a strap and dragged the backpack forward. “It’s heavy,” he said. “What’s in here, rocks?”
“Yeah,” Cade responded. “I got Old Man a box of them.”
Raven had opened the envelope and dragged out a thick stack of pictures. Eagerly thumbing through them, she said, “Look, it’s you and Mom on your wedding day.” Her eyes suddenly glossed over from grief. She felt her throat constrict. “And one of me with Nana and Papa in Myrtle Beach. Oooh … this black and white one is of Grandpa and Grandma from a long time ago.”
Taking his eyes off the road for a beat, Cade poked at a picture. “This is me, you and Mom … summer before last, I think.”
“When we went to Bend?”
“Yes,” Cade answered. “Got your baby pictures and some of you learning to walk, too.”
In the backseat, Wilson had pulled a heavy object from the pack. It was wrapped in a stiff, new-smelling tee shirt. On the shirt was a helicopter silhouette and the words: STUMP TOWN AVIATION.
“Here’s your rocks,” Wilson joked. “Strangely, feels like they’re in the shape of a gun.”
Raven said, “Stop at this next intersection for a sec.”
Craning over the seat, Cade said, “What do you think, Duncan?”
Duncan had unwrapped the present. It was a Colt .45 Model 1911. It felt familiar in his hand. Real familiar. Swiping at a stray tear, he said, “This is mine … isn’t it?”
Cade said, “Affirmative.”
“Was Charlie still there?” He paused. “I mean … Charlie’s body.”
“He was. Right where you left him.” Cade explained how the three helos in the strike package had loitered overnight at the Troutdale Airport. “Ari and Haynes had some time on their hands, so they dug a deep grave inside the fence and buried your friend in it. Even had a short graveside service for him. Believe it or not, that was Ari’s idea.”
Duncan was crying now. “You thought of me while you were out there. I don’t know what to say.” He dabbed at his eyes with his sleeve.
Cade said, “No words are necessary. You’d do the same for me.”
Wilson leaned over and wrapped Old Man in a bear hug.
Cade looked over at Raven. “Can I drive now?”
She pointed to the street sign.
Cade read it: “Boise Street.” He looked at her. “Where’d you find that?”
“She made it herself,” Duncan said. “With just a little help from Old Man. Hell, we almost died in the EZ so she could steal the signs to make it.”
Taryn leaned between the seats. “But there’s more. Right, Raven?”
Raven said, “Turn here.”
The street was tree-lined and relatively clean, with only two abandoned cars parked on the entire block. Pointing to a Craftsman on her side of the street, Raven said, “That look familiar?”
Cade said, “It looks like home.”
“It is,” Raven said.
“How?”
“Cost me a bunch of ears. Lady named DeAngelo over at Reclamation helped me with the paperwork.” She pointed at the homes flanking the Craftsman. “The bungalow is Duncan and Glenda’s. The two-story next door is Daymon’s place.”
Interrupting, Cade asked, “Where is he?”
“On some kind of vision quest,” answered Duncan. “Him and his new lady left the walls right after President Clay finished her thing.”
Nodding, Cade said, “What about you kids? You all staying at the Antlers?”
Wilson shook his head. “No. That big white mansion down the street is ours.”
Cade said, “Looks like the place on the U of O campus where they filmed Animal House.”
“Exactly,” said Duncan. “They want to behave as if they’re in a frat, they had to be kept at arm’s length. Far enough away so that we can’t hear them, yet close enough to home we can pop in and check on them now and again.”
Cade said, “Even the house number is the same as the old house.”
“She worked hard to steal those, too,” quipped Duncan.
Smiling, Raven said, “Pull forward and look in the driveway.”
Cade took his foot off the brake and let the idling engine pull the Tahoe forward.
“Is that—?”
“Yep,” she said, “it’s Black Beauty. In the flesh.”
Never in his wildest dreams did Cade think he’d ever see his F-650 again. “How?” he asked.
Duncan said, “Me and D paid Whipper a visit a couple of weeks ago. Believe it or not, the old coot was happy to help. He had a Chinook returning from a mission up Idaho way divert to the Eden compound. They put her in a sling and ferried her back to Peterson. He even took it upon himself to get her back into fighting shape.”
Cade said, “Looks like he up-armored her, too. And is that new black paint that I see?”
“He did the Humvee treatment on her. The paint is that radar-beam-absorbing stuff they put on the new helos. He even added bulletproof glass, a Whipple supercharger, a third fuel tank, and beadlock wheels wrapped with run-flat off-road tires. She’s a rig Mad Max would kill for.”
Beaming, Raven said, “Did I do good?”
Tilt to his head, tone all business, Cade said, “Did you do anything I wouldn’t do while I was gone?”
Raven said nothing.
Taking that as a “Yes,” Cade said, “You did beyond good. I love you, Bird.”
THE END
To be continued in a new Surviving the Zombie Apocalypse novel in 2020
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