“Everything ok?” Lauren inquired. “Did I say something wrong?”
“No. You didn’t say anything wrong,” Christian responded almost immediately. “I don’t blame you for wanting to honor your father. Lord knows, I try to do the same.”
“I’m not sure I’m following,” Lauren said. “Where’s your dad now?”
Christian picked up a small rock. He looked it over and then tossed it at a tree. His expression turned into a combination of disgust and anger. “He’s dead,” Christian said abruptly.
Lauren was taken aback. She was not expecting this answer. The way that Christian had spoken of his father the day before had given no indication of this. “But, I thought he was the Sheriff. That’s what you told me—”
“Was the Sheriff,” Christian said. “Past tense.”
Christian stood up and began picking up his gear without a word. Lauren did the same, as she didn’t have anything to say to his response. Once they had donned their packs, Christian took the lead and Lauren followed up along the trail. Now that they had reached the ridge, the trail had flattened out and it was much easier to traverse. Lauren still took care not to worsen her injury. Christian’s pace was easy to maintain for her. The two said nothing for the next half-mile or so. Lauren watched his limp and knew that she herself was limping. She smiled at the thought of what they two would look like, from another person’s point of view. Two hikers with heavy backpacks, who were carrying guns and limping their way down the trail. She imagined it was quite a scene.
Christian stopped and placed the water hose from his backpack to his lips, taking a drink. He turned to look at Lauren who decided to do the same. “So, you know exactly where we are right now?” he asked.
“Yep,” Lauren began, in between sips. “Just ahead is a side trail to the left that takes you over to White Rock Cliff. That’s where I saw the smoke yesterday, which was the reason I decided to investigate.”
“And how far are we from our destination?” he asked again.
“Four or so more miles until we get to Sugar Knob Cabin. Another six or so to get back home after that,” she replied. “I think we’re moving at about a half-mile an hour. We’ve got a steep ascent up to the next mountain that will slow us down considerably. Getting home is probably going to be out of the question today.”
“Understood,” Christian said. “Is not getting back today a bad thing?”
“Yes and no,” Lauren began. “It’s bad because I know they’ll be worried and probably be looking for me. Good because it’ll give me some time to decide how I’m going to explain everything to them.”
Christian laughed. “You mean explain me to them.”
“Yes, there’s that. I think they will understand. I’m really hoping John will.”
“John?” Christian pondered.
“My boyfriend,” Lauren added.
Christian nodded. He was a bit surprised, as this was the first time she had mentioned anyone’s name to him since they had met. Other than the mention of her grandparents’ last name, she had been omitting quite a bit of personal information from him to protect herself and the people she cared about; and he didn’t blame her. Deciding not to bring that fact up to her, he pushed the thought away. They both started walking again and it wasn’t long before they reached the overgrown side trail to their left that led to White Rock Cliff. Christian stopped and looked up the trail. He noticed how treacherous it was and sighed loudly.
“Must be a tremendous view,” Christian said. “If both of us weren’t limping like a couple of geriatrics, it would be a nice spot for lunch.”
“It’ll be rice and beans again,” Lauren said jokingly, trying to lighten the mood. Christian turned to face her.
“On the contrary, DHS was kind enough to provide me with some MREs,” Christian joked back, “and I’m dying to lighten this backpack.”
“Two MREs weigh at least a couple pounds, right?” Lauren poked.
“They feel like twenty pounds on the way out…”
Lauren squinted and pursed her lips, giving him a cross look. “Jeez, Christian. That is so gross,” she said.
Chapter 10
“Coming together is a beginning; keeping together is progress; working together is success”
— Henry Ford
St James Church
Trout Run Valley
Hardy County West Virginia
Present day
St. James Baptist Church was founded in the early 1800s and remained a local village staple ever since. It had seen many generations of parishioners over the years, mostly from the Rockland and Perry communities in Trout Run Valley, some of whom had been buried in the adjacent cemetery. In current times, the church served not only as a place of worship for all denominations, but as a common meeting place for the inhabitants of the valley. Like most churches constructed in those times, it had a thick stone foundation, stone steps that led to an entrance with large wooden double doors, and a steeple, complete with a church bell that would ring every Sunday morning to signify that a service was occurring. At full capacity, it could hold a congregation of about fifty. Michelle always thought it reminded her of the church from Little House on the Prairie. Norman concurred with her on this, although he pointed out that the church in Little House doubled as a schoolhouse and this one did not. Just about every Sunday, while walking to the church for the meetings and sometimes before the preceding sermon, which came earlier in the morning, they would converse about their memories of television shows that they used to enjoy. The little white church on Little House would eventually be brought up and the conversation would turn to how alike their lives were now, to those who lived in Walnut Grove. So many similarities. No electricity, no working indoor plumbing. No telephones. Neighbors had to meet and speak face to face because there was simply no other way to communicate and share information. Money didn’t really matter anymore. The economy was based on hard labor and things that were liquid and tangible. Bartering was an everyday occurrence. People had to subsist, in order to survive. They had to practice skills again that people had practiced in the days before technology did most everything. The similarities were nearly endless.
Upon waking this morning, Michelle had torn through the cabin in a panic, looking for signs that Lauren had returned overnight, only to find that she hadn’t. She had a short conversation with John about it, but had to end the talk not long after it had begun because John was completely exhausted. He had been on watch the previous night and hadn’t gotten much sleep yesterday, due to the day’s events. He had mentioned going out and looking for her after he got some sleep. That was a sign of how tired he really was. It was a marvel how he even managed to stay awake overnight, but Michelle easily deduced it was due to Lauren not being home. He was waiting for Lauren just like she was, and had a hard time sleeping last night because of it. Michelle did everything she could to keep her imagination from racing away with worst case scenarios of what had happened to her daughter.
With John getting some much needed sleep, Lee was guarding the cabin and Grace was to remain inside while they were separated. If they heard or saw trouble, they were to fire five consecutive shots into the air. The shots would be heard at the church and the entire community would be there to hear them. The church was a five-minute walk from the cabin, and it was a safe bet that help would be there promptly. If lethal force became necessary, they would use it to defend themselves and protect their property. Fred Mason’s sons, Chad and Mark rarely left their homestead on meeting day and were only a few hundred yards away. Both of them were excellent shots. With the possibility of intruders in the valley, this gave added confidence. If a battle had to be fought, they wouldn’t have to fight alone.
Walking side by side and nearing the church, Michelle and Norman were having yet another Little House conversation. This time it was being forced, in an effort to keep Michelle’s mind from being preoccupied with her missing daughter. Michelle pointed out that Norman was like Charles Ingalls
and she was most like Caroline, of course without the bonds of marriage between them. Norman disagreed and thought he was more like Almonzo Wilder, instead. Almonzo, in his opinion, had much nicer hair and was more attractive than Charles. He also pointed out to Michelle jokingly, that she reminded him more of Nellie Oleson, implying that she was an incorrigible troublemaker.
“No way in hell, am I like Nellie,” Michelle said. “I’m definitely Caroline. I’ve become the quintessential mother hen. And with that, Grace has to be Mary—with the exception of her good vision. And Lauren is definitely Laura Ingalls.”
Norman nodded. “I can see Lauren being Laura. I can even see Grace being Mary. But I am not Charles. I’m definitely ‘Manly’,” he said, referring to the nickname for Almonzo Wilder, who had married Laura Ingalls when she was seventeen years old. “Without the bonds of marriage, of course,” he continued lightheartedly. “That just wouldn’t be right.”
“Damn right, it wouldn’t,” Michelle said.
Michelle’s grin turned into a frown. Every time Lauren’s name was mentioned, she felt a tingle on the back of her neck. She began to worry again. She tried not to, but she couldn’t help it. She selfishly hoped that John would decide to go look for her, but she began to feel guilty and didn’t want him to go alone. There was no certainty when this new danger in the community would manifest, and being alone was an altogether bad idea. There was safety in numbers and today, they had a job to do. They had to bring all of their neighbors up to speed on what had happened yesterday. After all, there was now a new threat that could affect everyone that lived there. After this meeting, the rest of her day would be about her daughter and nothing else.
Michelle and Norman walked up the stairs and stepped into the church through the double doors which were held-open. Immediately inside, they were welcomed by Michael Perry and his wife, Kristen. The Perrys lived near the northern boundary of the community, close to the old and now defunct animal petting zoo and general store. Although their last name had nothing to do with the town of Perry, they were often referred to jokingly as “the Perrys of Perry.” Michael owned an excavation business and had a large lot of property full of equipment, including tractors, bobcats, dump trucks, backhoes, and the like. He was a generous person and had no problem occasionally using his equipment to clear Trout Run Road of snow when needed, in spite of the fact that fuel was as scarce as it was. He was a construction blasting engineer and had provided the explosives and expertise needed to barricade the road near Wolf Gap, when the community had decided it was needed to ensure their safety in the valley. Michael’s wife, Kristen was a paramedic and had been one of the two non-volunteer professionals at Wardensville Fire Company before, and shortly after the collapse. Once Wardensville had become too dangerous for Kristen to remain there, she’d decided to pursue another career opportunity. Like so many of the other women in the valley, she’d become a homemaker. She also happened to be the only member of the community with experience in emergency medicine, and that made her a major asset.
Michelle and Norman shook hands with the Perrys and after a few words, continued into the church. Fred Mason was standing at the pulpit with his wife, where he usually ran the meetings. They were chatting with Bryan and Sarah Taylor who had their four-year-old daughter, Emily with them. This explained the bicycle that Michelle had seen outside the church that had a kid trailer attached to it. The Taylors were the youngest of all of the families in the valley and lived closest to what was considered the southern boundary of the community. Their property was therefore closest to the barricade, so if anyone had seen evidence of the intrusion, it would most likely be them. Bryan was a computer programmer by trade before the collapse. Sarah was an accountant. Since both professions were obsolete now, they had been able to escape their city commutes to become what they had always dreamed of becoming—farmers. The Taylors had the largest garden in the valley. In fact, just about all of their property was a garden of some sort. They harvested so many fruits, vegetables and herbs that even after bartering the majority, they were occasionally forced to give the excess away. Thanks to a large greenhouse that Bryan had built with the help of a couple other neighbors, they were able to garden pretty much year-round. They also had an assortment of chickens, goats, and hogs. Michelle often referred to Bryan and Sarah as the newlyweds, noting how extremely compassionate they were, as well as how affectionate they were with one another.
As Michelle and Norman took a seat on the second pew from the front of the church, which was their usual spot, they were greeted by Peter and Amy Saunders who sat just behind them in the third pew. Peter and Amy lived just north of the church on the opposite side of the road from the cabin with their sons, Jacob and Liam, both of whom were sitting beside their parents, playing with toy cars on the church pew. Jacob was thirteen and his brother was almost five years old, yet they always played together as if there wasn’t an age difference. Jacob was very protective of his little brother and Liam looked up to him. The two were inseparable. Peter was a highly skilled carpenter and a welder. There was very little that he could not do with tools and wood or steel. He had worked for carpentry businesses in and around northern Virginia and had performed side work on his own before the collapse. Now, side work was all there was. Peter had helped the Taylors build their greenhouse and assisted his other neighbors with small tasks here and there, as it was needed. His wife Amy was an LPN and had worked at the Urgent Care center in Wardensville. Since the collapse, in addition to being a homemaker, she had become quite the cook. Cooking had been a hobby for her for years and in these new conditions, it offered her a chance to branch out from what was traditional. She became nothing short of extraordinary in the specialty of ‘primitive culinary arts’, as she preferred to call it.
“That’s quite a beard you’re growing there,” Norman said, noting Peter’s full-bodied facial hair.
“Jealous?” Peter said with a smile.
“Absolutely,” Norman said as he ran his fingers through his goatee.
“My beard brings all the girls to the yard,” Peter said jokingly. “I could teach you, but I’d have to charge.” He turned to look at his wife with a goofy grin, and she immediately turned to look at him.
“There’d better not be any girls in our yard,” Amy said. Peter laughed at her and she smiled.
Michelle tried to crack a smile, but she didn’t have it in her. Amy noticed almost immediately that something was troubling her.
“Michelle, you ok?” Amy asked.
Michelle hesitated and then said, “Yes. I’m fine.”
“That’s a load of shit,” Amy said.
Knowing that her friend would stop at nothing to find out what was bothering her, Michelle relented. “Lauren didn’t come home last night,” Michelle said in a solemn tone. “We have no idea where she is right now.”
“Oh—shit,” Amy said quietly. She placed her hand over her mouth, partially in an attempt to soften her voice, but also because she realized she was in a church.
“It couldn’t have come at a worse time,” Norman added. “We’ve got a security issue in the valley.”
“Fred told us about what happened at the Ackermanns,” Peter said with a nod. “He told us right after he talked with Mike and Kristen, and I’m guessing that’s what he’s talking to Bryan and Sarah about right now.”
“Where are the Schmidts?” Michelle asked as she looked around the church.
“Those two would be late for their own funerals,” Amy retorted. “They’ll show up right after Fred calls the meeting and he’ll give them both hell—I mean heck—for it, as usual.”
The four looked up and saw that the Taylors had moved away from the pulpit and were now taking their seats. Kristen Perry walked to the front and took a seat in the pew in front of Michelle and Norman. Michael remained at the doors, looking around outside with his hand tapping the holster of his sidearm. Michelle glanced around the church and noticed that just about everyone indeed was carrying a gun, even th
e women. It was hard to believe just how much things had changed in the past year. At one time, open carrying a firearm was considered taboo and seemingly served only to frighten an uneducated populous. Now, it was the status quo. It was a necessity to ensure protection in uncertain times.
Fred cleared his throat as Kim took a seat just behind him.
“Let the meeting come to order,” Fred announced in his usual flamboyant voice. “At this point, everyone is aware of the situation in our community. I’ve spoken with each of you. Norman, if you’d like to give us all of the details, we’re all ears.”
Norman nodded. Just as he stood up, the late arrivals Scott and Whitney Schmidt stormed into the church, huffing and puffing as if they had run the entire way from their house to the church.
“Sorry we’re late,” Scott said.
“We’re used to it,” Fred admonished with a smirk.
Scott and Whitney took a seat in the pew opposite of Michelle and Norman. They waved to them, smiled, whispered hellos under their breath, then waved to the other families and did the same. Fred crossed his arms and exhaled through his nostrils. The only thing that annoyed him more than people who were always late, were people who were oblivious to being always late and how it affected others. The Schmidts couldn’t help themselves, it was just in their nature. They had both once been non-essential government employees who had enjoyed benefits such as flex-time and liberal leave policies. Scott was an IT professional and his wife was an analyst. Both had worked for a local FEMA office in Winchester, Virginia before the collapse. The home they enjoyed now, was once just a weekend getaway for them. When it had become too dangerous in their neighborhood, they’d bugged out to the valley.
Scott had been one of Michelle’s husband’s best friends since childhood. His parents had been Alan’s parent’s friends, even before Alan had been born. Scott’s mother had even been a bridesmaid in Alan’s mother’s wedding to her first husband. The longevity of their relationship made them family to the Russells, and it was considered a miracle that a family that had been so close to them ended up in the same general location, after the collapse.
What's Left of My World (Book 1) Page 17
