Clay had long renounced his “feelings” for Alayna, recognizing that they were nothing more than attachment to the life he’d had in Carterville. The way his mind burned, after finding out that Valerie had died, had shown him that his love for Alayna was nothing more than a passing fancy. Skin on skin when he thought he was going to die.
“Coffee, huh?” Megan asked, putting her hands on her hips. She clucked her tongue at Alayna but forced a smile. “You know you shouldn’t be drinking that.”
Alayna rolled her eyes. “I guess I’m in for a lecture,” she said to Clay and Maia. “Protect me from her when the baby comes, won’t you?” She leaned toward Maia, her eyes bright. “At least I get to be the fun Mom, right?”
“Hey. I’m not totally uptight,” Megan protested. She slid her hand on Alayna’s shoulder lovingly, a gesture that showed their bond was more than the bickering.
“Well, I have to head to work,” Maia said, taking a step toward the yellowing grass below. Her eyes flickered toward Clay, who’d grown accustomed to walking her from Alayna’s to the downtown cafe in the afternoons, where she’d taken a job under Hank’s management.
“I’ve always wanted to own my own coffee shop,” Hank had said when they’d arrived back in Helen. They had been stricken at the empty town (one that was incredibly safe to inhabit, but one that needed a bit of life pumped into it). And so, they’d begun to resurrect community elements. Lois had begun having small church services on Sundays, for those who wanted to attend, and Hank had opened the cafe. Clay had taken up residence as both sheriff and as local movie theater proprietor—rigging up a small theater in a barn he’d taken over, just five minutes’ walk from downtown.
The cafe was the real heartbeat of Helen, drawing stragglers in on their journeys elsewhere (and often convincing them to stick around). People communed over cake and coffee, switching to beer and wine in the evening. Maia had learned much in her conversations with these men and women, their lives now and what they hoped for the future. “Helen is safe,” she always told them, Clay knew. “Helen is where we’re starting the next generation. It’s where we’re rebuilding. Why not help us?”
“Oh, honey,” Clay sighed, drawing Maia in for a side-hug as they walked from Alayna’s house. “Things just keep changing, don’t they?”
“For the better, I think,” Maia said. “We’ve grown in population by fifty since last week, Hank was telling me. And even Samantha hasn’t left yet. Brandon was sure she’d hit the road the minute we got into Helen. That she was meant for other things. But she—well. You’ve been spending a lot of time with her, haven’t you?” She smirked.
Clay had. Something about the drama, the anger that had existed between him and Sam had brought them close. She often popped by with a six-pack on her way to her house, just over the field from Clay’s, and they would stay up late, talking about their past lives. About the world they wanted to build. Clay had been surprised to discover that Sam had any optimism in her at all—knowing only the cold, hardened and pessimistic Sam from before. But now she was letting her hair grow long, hanging in curls on her shoulders. She wore dresses, sometimes. And once, Clay had caught her talking with Alayna about the baby in excited whispers.
“Sam is—well. She’s a good person to have around,” Clay heard himself say. His heart bumped in his chest, showing he had a few more opinions about that than he really wanted to let on.
“Dad, it’s Samantha,” Maia said, giving him a sneaky look. “She told me she’s always preferred Samantha. Even Quintin has started calling her that. And you know, he’s like her brother.”
“Right. Well, I suppose I should make the switch—”
“You really should. Because Samantha is part of her new life.”
They got to the café and Clay peered in, seeing Lois and Lane at a table together, sipping coffee and discussing something stretched out on the table between them. He knew they weren’t getting closer to a cure, but Lane, Jacobs, and Marcia were hunting for one, every single day. To their right, Rex was alone, reading a book (turned out he was particularly keen on paperback romances) and sunk a fork into a piece of pie. Hank manned the register, underneath a large framed photo of Walt he found when Jacobs got them back on the internet. He adjusted the frame, the memory of his best friend coloring the moment.
“Dad, do you think you can be part of this new life?” Maia asked him. “Build something new? Maybe even … fall in love?”
Clay turned his eyes toward the fields, at the edge of the town. He thought back to Ralph, who’d breathed his last breath just a block away. He remembered those lost days at the hotel, the ones camping in the mountains, the many, seemingly endless days on the road. And he shook his head, incredulous that something, God or another higher power, had kept him alive through all of it.
He was allowed another chance.
“I’ll miss your mom forever, you know that?” Clay asked his daughter, his heart finally light.
“Me too,” Maia whispered.”
“But in the last few months, I’ve realized that I’m ready to build something else,” Clay told her, surprising even himself. “A life with you. A life being an uncle to Alayna and Megan’s baby. A life maybe … maybe with Samantha.” He shrugged. “But at the end of the day, it’s a life. And I’m grateful to have it.”
Maia kissed Clay on the cheek, darted into the cafe and wrapped an apron around her waist. As she tied it, Clay turned his attention back to the field—and saw three of the crazed scurry past, just outside the town. They’d learned where the barriers were—and if they crossed them, they’d be killed.
Now they were like deer. A part of the natural world. One Clay’s crew would have to live alongside, perhaps forever. The Earth had tilted. And Clay had shifted along with it, like any survivor must.
Dear Reader
Thank you so much for reading Reversion: Book Three of the Humanity’s Edge Trilogy. I sincerely hope you enjoyed the read.
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Paul
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