Calvin took a right onto a familiar dirt road. Barren trees lined the sides of the curving path. Their branches arched over the road and cast glob-like shadows over the roof of the green SUV. A clearing appeared after a quarter mile, where there was a wide wooden structure.
The dented fender of the Rover inched into the clearing. Calvin, Naomi, and the rest of the passengers craned their heads up at the makeshift wall. It had the appearance of a really tall, solid fence--twelve feet high--fastened together by rotted wood. Planks of various sizes were nailed at odd angles across its face. It extended somewhere between a hundred feet and a hundred fifty feet before making sharp right angles at the far left and right side. The wall’s middle lined up with the center of the dirt road. The sliding entrance gate was currently shut. The sliver of the house’s roof and second floor was visible tucked a few dozen feet behind the wall.
Calvin parked the Rover a car length away from the sliding door. Everyone inside leaned forward to get the best look at the shabby walls. Naomi rolled down her window. “Allen?”
Her voice echoed through the valley. She got out. Snow powdered her hair and shoulders as she approached the front gate, gesturing for everyone to stay in the car. She craned her hand back and glanced up at the imposing shabby structure.
“Allen, it’s Naomi! Your sister! Are you home?”
Her echo replied to her.
The wind jostled her hair and sunk its icy claws into her skin. Her nose and ears glowed red. Her cheeks were as white as porcelain. She waited. Her heart raced in her chest. A thousand hopes fled. A thousand more fears arose. What if he wasn’t home? What if he’d moved but didn’t have a chance to tell Naomi? What if something happened to him and he was trapped inside the walls? The front door was fortified. There was no way inside from the front. Naomi felt more dread. More hopelessness. What if there was no way to get inside? She not only let down her family, she let down the Ryans. That was seven more lives she had to take into account. It was seven lives she had failed. She’d already failed a lot of her patients by running away from Philly. Maybe she should’ve stayed in the city, got ahold of the food bank, and hunker down until the “Storm” passed. That was stupid. She knew she was making mistakes, but it isn’t like the old world, where screw-ups were scowled at and forgotten. If she messed up now, it could be the difference between life or death. She bounced her weight nervously from one foot to the next.
“Allen?” She called out his name again. She felt the eyes of those in the car waiting expectantly.
“Naomi,” a gruff voice yelled back.
Naomi back-stepped enough to the see-through porch of the two-story cabin. The silhouette of a bear-like man rested his forearms on the porch railing. A rifle leaned on the railing next to him. Naomi couldn’t decipher the weapon’s shape or model, but it was something high-powered, modified, and possibility fully automatic.
Naomi waved to him. “Hey, can we talk a little closer?”
Slinging his rifle over his shoulder, the man disappeared down a flight of exterior stairs.
After a pregnant movement, something clicked on the other side of the gate.
Unable to conceal her smile, Naomi stepped back as the gate slid open about four feet. Out stepped a bear-like man with a bushy beard, a plaid shirt, and thick apron splashed with blood. He had arms as thick as mutton chops and fists the size of turkeys. Those were covered in blood too. Pepper spotted his crew-cut. His rugged face had sorrowful eyes, intense brows, and a crooked nose that was the result of an old break. Like most soldiers, he stood dutifully. Naomi wouldn’t have recognized this stranger as her brother, yet he was. Naomi looked down at the blood, unable to hide her horrified expression.
Allen made no comment. His face was a solid chunk of rock: chiseled and unreadable.
Naomi swallowed. “Allen, what happened to you?”
The man looked past her and at the Rover. He squinted, examining the people inside. His lips moved behind his thick mustache and beard as he silently counted.
“Allen?” she repeated, as if he’d gone somewhere far away.
“Who are they?” Allen asked in his demanding voice.
Naomi glanced back at the vehicle. “They are friends from Philadelphia. You wouldn’t believe what happened--”
Allen cut her off with a gesture. “Why are they here?”
Before Naomi could respond, the back door opened and Conner stepped out wearing his most confident, friendly smile. He started toward Allen.
“You must be Allen,” Conner said kindly with his signature Irish accent. “Naomi’s told us so much about you. Nice place.”
“Stop.” Allen’s cold words halted Conner in his tracks.
All the color left Conner’s face the moment he saw the blood-splashed apron.
“He’s cool,” Naomi said, trying to defuse Allen.
Allen turned his hard eyes to Conner, cutting into his soul. After a moment, Conner lowered his gaze to the dirt road.
Naomi rubbed her upper arms. “It’s freezing out here. Can we talk about this after we pull in the car?”
Allen glared at the vehicle and sent even more hostility Conner’s way. “I want them off my land. Now.”
Conner furrowed his brows. “I don’t understand.”
Allen didn’t repeat himself. He just glared.
Naomi stepped between the two men. She leaned into Allen. “Can we talk? Privately.”
Allen didn’t move. Didn’t speak.
“Uncle A!” Trinity leaned out the window. She waved at him. Allen, for the first time, smiled back. It was so brief and so sudden that you wouldn’t notice it unless you’d known Allen your whole life. Trinity hurried out of the car and rushed to him. She stopped just short of a hug when she saw the blood. “Oh.”
“Deer,” Allen explained simply.
Trinity gulped and continued with what she was going to say. “You should’ve seen it, Uncle Allen. There was terrorists and fire and the whole city had gone insane. And then we had to sleep in the car. It was crazy.”
Conner started to move closer. Allen’s glare kept him still. He spoke to Trinity, though he didn’t take his eyes off Conner. “Get your father. Tell him to bring the car keys.”
Trinity nodded dutifully and jogged to the Rover. Becca asked her a few questions. Trinity quickly answered and got Calvin to shut off the vehicle and join them outside.
Dean stepped out too. He put both hands on his waist, not hiding the pistols clipped to his belt. Allen told Conner to stay put and led the three Baxters through. He allowed Naomi, Trinity, and Calvin to pass before him and gave the Ryans one last long look and shut the gate.
The two-story house loomed over them. Rectangular and simply designed, it had a balcony boasting an exterior staircase. Metal bars reinforced the windows and front door. When Naomi visited it seven years ago, it lacked the room extensions on the side and back of the house.
Muddy mulch covered the barren front yard. A ten-foot by eight-foot greenhouse stood on one side of the house. To the other side was a work bench, a tanning rack, a seven-foot-tall rusty metal tool box, and a long wooden table. Beside it was a dead elk suspended between two wood posts. Its skin was peeled back. A metal bucket of crimson innards sat nearby. A carving knife stuck out from the wooden table.
Allen went to the elk, drew out the knife, and started to carve away at the deer’s skin as it were nothing unusual. He had the demeanor of a butcher when approaching the carcass, but the precision of a surgeon the moment knife met skin.
“Allen,” Naomi said cautiously. “You’re freaking me out.”
“Why did you come here?” Allen asked as he skinned the deer.
“Because we need your help.” Naomi took slow steps toward him. “The EMP turned Philly and every other city into a hellhole. I lost my home and nearly lost my life. We thought this would be the safest place.”
Calvin interrupted, speaking to Allen. “Hey, could you… stop that?”
Allen turned back to them. He
saw Trinity looking ill and put aside the knife. He approached the girl. The corded muscles around his neck stretched and tightened with the slightest movement. “Animals hunt each other,” he told Trinity. “We hunt animals. It’s nature’s cycle. The first world is dead. Soon you’ll have to get your hands dirty. Understand?”
Putting on a mask of braveness, Trinity looked up at him. “Shouldn’t we be taking care of them instead of killing them?”
Allen eyed her, his expression unreadable.
“Allen,” Naomi said. “I don’t want to turn your words against you, but you promised a place here for Trinity and me if anything like this happened. Is that still true?”
“I don’t forget my promises,” Allen said. “The two of you are always welcome.”
Calvin looked down at his feet, not sure why Allen never mentioned him.
“Let’s talk about the Ryans,” Naomi said.
“I don’t want them here,” Allen said, hoping that his forceful tone would end the conversation. It may have, if Naomi didn’t know him well enough to know when to push.
“They don’t have anywhere else to go,” Naomi argued. “We cannot just abandon them. It’s cold out there. They could die.”
“I said no.” Allen walked back to the deer.
Naomi scoffed. “I don’t believe you. You talk constantly about staying alive when everything comes crashing down. What about strength in numbers? What about helping our neighbors?”
“Those people will be nothing but trouble,” Allen said without hesitation.
“How do you know?” Naomi asked.
“They’re takers,” Allen replied.
Naomi put her hand on her hips. “What?”
“You’ll see,” Allen said. “If they weren’t, they would’ve gone their own way days ago.”
“It was me who offered to take them out of Philly. Becca, the sixteen-year-old you’ll soon meet, lost her father when some jihad bastard shot him in the gut.” Naomi took a breath. “They’ve been through a lot.”
“They’re not our problem. We need to look out for our own,” Allen said. “That’s why I built this place. For us. No one else.”
Naomi felt the anger surging through her veins. “They have a sixteen-year-old girl, Allen. And a sick cripple. Are they perfect? Far from it, but leaving them out in the winter cold is just wrong.”
Allen stopped cutting and clenched the knife hilt tightly. “This is a mistake, Naomi.”
“Could be,” Naomi said defiantly.
Allen’s shoulders slumped.
They listened to the whistling of the window and watched the snow fall sideways on the world.
He turned back to her. “Fine.”
“Fine what?”
“You can let them in.” He pointed the knife at her. “But they are your responsibility.”
“I can live with that,” Naomi said.
“If they start to cause problems, it will be up to you to get them out,” Allen warned.
“You have my word,” Naomi replied.
Calvin exited the shabby gate and drove the Rover inside. They found a clearing nearby the greenhouse. The Ryans exited, each taking a moment to thank Allen. He was quiet. Anyone with one eye and half a brain could tell that he wasn’t happy. The Ryans took this as their cue to move quickly.
With a clenched jaw, Allen sealed up the front gate and led them inside the cabin. The first floor had a kitchen, dining area, living room, recreation room, two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a storage room that was locked tighter than Fort Knox. The Bunks—what Allen called the two bedrooms--were in their own hallway and faced each other. Each room had two desks, two footlockers, a closet, and two bunk beds with a twin-sized mattress. Cathleen and Becca took one of the rooms. Dean and Conner took the other.
Conner stopped Fergus in the hallway. “What should we do about our father?” he asked Allen.
“He’s with you,” Allen said.
“Is it possible to give him his own room?” Conner asked.
“Not downstairs.” Allen replied. “You take care of him.”
Lips pursed, Conner wheeled Fergus into the tight room. The old man coughed and mumbled something no one understood.
Naomi, Calvin, and Trinity watched the Ryans settle in. Dean tucked the large duffel bags in the corner of the room and laid out the large magnum revolver on the desktop. Meanwhile, Cathleen and Becca felt the beds and pillows and spent time examining the empty footlockers and closet.
Allen gestured for the Baxters to follow him. They left the Ryans to their own devices and Allen led them to the second floor. It opened into a hall of sorts with a number of closed doors lining the walls. Allen unlocked the door on the right side of the hall. It opened to a bedroom with a queen-sized mattress, a closet, desk, shelf, and two chairs. Like the rest of the cabin, it was simple. There were no pictures or wall decor. It was roughly the same size as the bedrooms downstairs.
“This is your room,” Allen said. “There’s a washroom to the right. There’s no running water, so you’ll need to go down to well and bring up buckets. I’ll find a sleeping bag for Trinity.”
“Can I stay with Becca?” Trinity asked.
Naomi looked to Calvin. He shrugged. Naomi granted Trinity permission. She ran down the stairs. Allen lingered in the doorway. “Get yourselves settled. I’m going to clean up and then I’ll give you the tour.”
“Thank you, Allen,” Naomi said.
Her brother nodded and walked away. For such a big man, his footsteps were silent.
Calvin immediately flopped on the bed. He let out a relaxed sigh. “Boy, did I miss this.”
Naomi joined Calvin on the bed. The mattress was hard, but it was still a million times better than sleeping upright in the Land Rover. She interlocked her fingers behind her head and looked up the ceiling. “I can’t believe we actually made it.”
Eyes shut, Calvin nodded. “Now we can sleep, eat, and be happy.”
Naomi yawned, “I like that idea.”
“Naomi,” Calvin said.
“Yeah?”
“I love you.”
“I love you, too,” Naomi replied genuinely.
“Please take a bath.”
Naomi punched him in the arm.
Calvin jolted up. “Ow. I was just being honest.”
“Oh, really?” Naomi asked with a wry smile. “And you smell so much better?”
Calvin sniffed himself. He scrunched his nose. “Ah, lilacs and clove.”
Naomi laughed. “Not even close.”
There was a knock on a door.
“Come in!” Calvin shouted.
Conner opened the door. He stood in the doorway with his hands in his pockets. “Your brother’s a piece of work.”
Naomi sat up. “Once he gets to used to you, he’ll take the chip off of his shoulder.”
“I hope so,” Conner said. “I imagine it wasn’t his idea to let us inside.”
“He took some persuading,” Naomi replied. “There shouldn’t be any problems as long as you follow his house rules and don’t cause trouble.”
“You can count on us,” Conner replied. “We’re just grateful to have a place to stay.”
“Thank Allen, not me,” Naomi said.
Conner smiled at her and turned back to the hall. He stopped himself and looked at Naomi. “Oh, do you know when we’ll be eating?”
“That’s an Allen question,” Naomi replied. “He’ll tell us when he’s ready.”
Conner nodded. He headed off down the hall.
They waited until they heard his footsteps descending the stairs. Calvin spoke quietly, “You really think Allen’s going to warm up to them?”
“I’m not sure if I’ve warmed up to them,” Naomi replied.
“You seem pretty comfortable around Conner,” Calvin replied.
Naomi shrugged. “I think he means well, but there’s still a lot we don’t know about them.”
“Ah,” Calvin said. “Well, I hope for all our sakes that everyone g
ets along.”
Thirty minutes later, Allen summoned everyone to the downstairs recreation room. There were multiple bookshelves holding puzzles and board games along with a variety of nonfiction books. There was a 1950s jukebox, a fridge that didn’t work, and a small workout station. Allen introduced the room. “Anyone can use whatever they want in here as long as they clean up before they leave. I don’t want anything left out here overnight. Ever.”
He moved to the kitchen next. It was simple and long.
“I’ll be handling the food,” Allen said. “No one eats anything without my permission.”
Cathleen crossed her arms over her belly. “When do we eat?”
“7:00, noon, 18:00. Everyday. Non-negotiable.” Allen said. “It will be heavily rationed.”
Dean furrowed his brows. “Why’s that?”
Cathleen nodded. “Yeah, we thought you had plenty of food.”
Allen gave Naomi a sidelong glance before addressing the crowd. “We have plenty of food for one person. Now we have nine people. With three more months of winter ahead of us, we’ll be relying on emergency food stores, and dried deer and squirrel meat. If that doesn’t work for you, you can find another place. But the moment you make the decision to leave, you will not be allowed back in.”
His words silenced the crowd.
Dean was the only one that looked directly at him. “Cathleen lost her husband--my brother. Give her extra. Her mind and body need it.”
Allen glared at him. “You can give her your plate if you want. As I said before, rationing is non-negotiable. If you have your own food and water, eat as much as you want. But as for me and my own, we will do what is necessary to survive.”
Leaving no room for questions, Allen continued the tour, leading them to the dining room. He made a comment about expanding the table and adding more chairs. They saw the living room next. It had a couch, recliner, a piano, and a nice view of the front lawn. “After dark, I go to bed. No one is allowed to play the piano. The walls here are purposely thin, and I value my rest.”
Aftermath (Book 1): Aftermath Page 5
