Allen scoffed. “So that’s what you call it when you don’t touch the wall for two weeks and your brother comes back empty-handed from his hunts.”
Both of the Ryan brothers cut him with their eyes. Naomi felt the tension between them rise and interjected. “I think we can all agree that this place is important to all of us. For that reason alone, I think its worth keeping,” said Naomi. Truthfully, she was fighting for the supplies in the basement.
Calvin and Trinity gawked at her. “So you’d bring the fight to them?”
“I’d defend what we have,” Naomi said firmly. “There are no guarantees that the outside world is any better. Here, under the right management, we can turn this place into something that will last us months, years, or however long until power returns. To give that up because a few thugs know where we live would be foolishness.”
Calvin looked at her like she was a complete stranger. “You’d put our daughter in danger for the sake of a greenhouse that’s months away from being usable?”
Naomi felt anger course through her body and to her face. “I wouldn’t run away with our tails between our legs.” She quoted from her book. “Our environment may shape us when we are infants, but as adults, we have a choice. To submit or be submitted to.”
The people looked at her, almost awestruck by her words.
Having their undivided attention, Naomi continued. “I don’t believe instigating violence for violence’s sake. If anything, I’d love it to broker a deal with our neighbors, but they didn’t seem too interested in negotiation when they broke into our home and robbed us. The reality is this. We have an enemy that wants to do us harm, and we have a home worth protecting. Let's pick ourselves up from our bootstraps and started defending what’s worth fighting for.”
The room fell silent as they thought of her words.
Allen broke the quiet with his gruff voice. “What do you propose, Naomi?”
“We build up the wall, put around defenses, and get ready to hold our own. There’s a chance these guys may never come, but who says others won’t.”
Cathleen crossed her arms and slouched. “This is insane.”
Naomi looked at her with a pitying smile. “You aren’t forced to stay. No one here is.”
No one volunteered to step out.
They started with taking inventory of what they had: four hunting rifles, three shotguns, five handguns, and a number of gardening tools. Defending themselves from a range wouldn’t be the issue. What they needed was a something that would keep them from being ambushed in the dead of night. Calvin got to work on designing an alarm system of sorts. Trinity and Becca would help him set it up when he finished it. Meanwhile, Conner and Dean focused their efforts of fortifying the wall. They added diagonal bars to enforce the wall. Dean got a particularly nasty idea of adding a pit of sharp sticks on the inner and outer side of the wall to keep anyone climbing over and if they did, they’d fall into a pit of spikes. Allen scouted the area. When he wasn’t on patrol, he’d teach firearm safety courses to the others. He had a range set up in the back. Dean was the best shot. Allen was the most disciplined. Conner knew his way around a gun. Naomi was a little better than a novice. Trinity, Becca, Cathleen, and Calvin were all beginners.
Naomi was surprised to spend most of the time with Cathleen. While the men were building, Naomi and Cathleen were gathering wood and putting small trees to the axe. By the end of first day, their hands were blistered. The second was tougher. Everyone was still trying to get in the rhythm of things. Dean jammed his thumb under a hammer, Calvin cut his hand somehow, and Cathleen took a nasty fall as she was carrying a bundle of sticks. With a new limp, she stayed within the walls and would sharpen sticks all hours of the day. Naomi would keep a gun close and get what supplies she could from the nearby area. It was hard work, and most nights she went to bed aching. After day three, her head was no longer killing her but she’d still get vertigo. By some miracle, she wasn’t throwing up anymore. It was mainly in part to the medication Allen was sneaking her. She tried to convince him to give out more food during these long days because people needed their energy. Allen refused, and his rationing became harsher. He wanted to give off the appearance that they were running low. Naomi was not happy to part of this scheme, but didn’t push her brother. The last thing she needed was for the Ryans to know they’ve been lied to this whole time. After the Scrapers were dealt with--whatever that looked like--she’d find a way to break the ice.
By the third night, Calvin had finished setting up his alarm system. He had a number of thin strings around the area that connected to tin cans. If any taut string were tripped, it would send the ringing through a small hole in the defensive wall and onto the bundles of cans dangling across the front porch. His favorite addition was a small golden bell he hung just outside the dining room window. He used plastic sheeting to make a windshield around the can closest to the house; otherwise, the breeze might deceive them.
In terms of the defensive wall, Conner and Dean had turned their efforts away from fortifying to a circle ditch around the inner wall. Instead of digging out the whole ditch at once, they dug five-foot wide ditches every ten feet to start.
Not knowing when the attack would happen was the hardest thing. All day or night, they worked in with anxious fear. During meal times, Naomi would call the people individually and ask if there was anything they wanted to get off their chest. Most of them said no. Naomi assumed they just wanted to get lost in their work. When Allen was away, Naomi led everyone gently, allowing them to work at a pace that suited them. She wanted to make sure they were ready for battle. However, the moment Allen returned each day, he would rule them with an iron fist. Needless to say, it pushed them to like Naomi more, and that annoyed Allen to no end.
They gathered around the table on the fifth night. Naomi had served them meat scraps and a glass of water. Everyone smelled of sweat and dirt. They had small cuts, scrapes, and bruises all up their bodies. Naomi’s arms felt like noodles from all the heavy lifting in the last few dys. By the tenseness of everyone’s shoulders and occasional arm or leg stretch, they were feeling the same fatigue. Everyone ate slowly that night, but obviously they desired more food. Dean seemed peeved. He rested both elbows on the table with his eyes on his empty plate and frowned.
As Naomi looked around the table, she saw the same discontentment on Conner’s face, and Cathleen. Even Becca, who was good at acting perfect around the adults, seemed down. Naomi looked to Calvin and Allen. They ate quietly and with their attention on their food. They didn’t notice the building hostility that suddenly became apparent to Naomi. She glanced over to Trinity. Her daughter quickly looked away from her. Did she know something Naomi did not? Naomi felt something off that she hadn’t noticed before.
Unsure what she was missing, Naomi broke the silence. “Good work, everyone. You guys are killing it out there.”
Dean kept his icy grey eyes on the plate. “We’d work better if we had access to Allen’s stash.”
It was like the world suddenly stood still.
Naomi kept herself from looking at Allen, afraid that a single glance would betray her involvement. She put on her best confused face.
“What do you mean?” she asked with a slightly coy smile. For all she knew, Dean could only be referring to rations. She didn’t want to give anything away.
Dean glanced up at her with a frown on his face. Conner looked at her as well, his shoulders knotted tightly and his lips making a line on his stern face. Cathleen looked so angry she wouldn’t even make eye contact, and even Becca was emotionally shut in. Allen stopped chewing for only a second, but that was all Naomi needed to see to know that her big brother was alarmed. As for Calvin, he looked confused, and Trinity wouldn’t look up from her lap. Dean reached his hand into his pocket. He pulled out a pill bottle full of antibiotics and set it down next to his plate.
Everyone stared at it but Trinity. She knows something, Naomi knew. Becca had a similar expression as Trinity. The
y were in cahoots.
Dean gestured to the pill bottle. “Found this when we were looking for the thief the night of the robbery. At first I thought it might’ve always been here, but then I discovered this upstairs.” He pulled out a second bottle of medication. It was the bottle Allen had given Naomi recently. Dean looked at her, his eyes cold and angry. No matter how good of an actor she was, she couldn’t hide the sheen of sweat appearing on her forehead. “This was in your room,” Dean said, his face suddenly turning red with anger.
Calvin turned to Naomi with genuine confusion. “What?”
Naomi glared at Dean. “Who gave you permission to be in my room?”
Dean shrugged. “That’s beside the point. The night the robbery occurred, Allen didn’t let us into his little closet. Well, it’s bigger than a closet.”
Conner glared at Allen who he didn’t look back at him or look partially worried. “It’s a basement, isn’t it?”
Allen kept quiet.
“I saw a glimpse of it the night of the break-in, but while I was running to get my weapon, you were fast enough to lock it up nice and tight. I couldn’t get a good look,” Conner said. “Honestly, I was hoping I was wrong in thinking you were holding back on us. It wasn’t until Dean found the medicine you’ve been giving Naomi that I realized the web of lies you’d been spinning. So have some respect, Allen. Did you have this medication when my father was dying? The same medication that would’ve saved his life? That would’ve kept us from getting sick?”
Allen took the napkin he stuffed in the front of the neck of his shirt and set it aside. He looked at Conner deadpan. “Yes.”
It’s was like a powder keg exploded. One second, Conner was seated. The next he was lunging across the table with a knife in his hand. He tackled Allen out of his seat.
Calvin quickly got to his feet as Dean pulled his revolver on him. Calvin’s wide eyes widened as he looked down the chromatic barrel.
Cathleen was the next to stand. She drew out a pistol from behind her and aimed it at Naomi.
Meanwhile, Allen and Conner grunted as they battled each other on the floor.
Conner was bigger, but Allen was stronger, and better trained.
Naomi locked Cathleen in the eye and spoke as calmly as she could. “Our daughters are watching.”
Becca hid her face and cried.
Trinity looked so betrayed that she could barely speak. “You said you’d talk to her, Becca. That’s it.”
“I’m sorry,” Becca wept.
Calvin kept his hands up. “Guys, we’re all on same side.”
Dean boiled red with anger. “You let my father die.”
“I didn’t know anything about that!” Calvin explained. “I was sick, too! Remember!? Let’s just talk about this!”
Allen held back Conner’s knife. The blade got dangerous close to his chest.
Dean looked over to Naomi. “Tell your brother to stop resisting.”
“So Conner can stab him? Are you kidding me?” Naomi said, her calmness leaving.
“We want the key to the basement,” Cathleen said. “And the key to the Rover.”
Naomi boiled. “I could’ve left you in Philly, but I sought you out.”
“Shut up!” Cathleen exploded.
“Is this what Sean would’ve wanted?” Naomi asked. “For you to aim a gun at me in front of my daughter? In front of Becca?”
Tears streamed down Cathleen’s face as she tried to keep her composure.
Suddenly, Conner let out a cry.
Everyone looked that way, seeing Allen now behind Conner on the floor, holding the knife to Conner’s throat.
Allen’s eyes were wide and furious.
Conner’s face was rife with fear.
Dean quickly turned the gun on Allen. “Let go of my brother!”
Cathleen kept her weapon bouncing between Calvin and Naomi.
“I said, let go!” Spittle flew from Dean’s mouth as she shouted.
In pure spite, Allen glared at him and began to cut into Conner’s throat. The six-foot five Irishman squirmed as blood started to leak under the blade’s edge.
Dean cursed.
Becca screamed.
Cathleen cried as she aimed the gun at Calvin.
Allen spoke with a complete calmness. “Drop the weapon or I’ll open his throat the rest of the way. This is your first and final warning.”
“Mom! Dad! Get down!” Trinity yelled. It was then Naomi noticed her daughter wasn’t in her seat anymore. With no time to think, Naomi grabbed Calvin and pulled him down. At the same time, Trinity popped out from under the table and slammed into Cathleen.
The woman fired off a round, blowing a hole through the wall behind Naomi as her back slammed into the cupboard of glassware.
Trinity tried to pull the gun from her.
“Let go!” Cathleen screamed as they struggled for the loaded weapon.
“Get that gun away from my daughter!” Calvin shouted and lunged across the table. Dean turned his gun on him quickly and drew out the second pistol he got from one of the men at the rest stop. He aimed the second pistol at Allen as he cut deeper into Conner’s neck.
Time seemed to slow down.
Naomi glanced around the chaotic room.
Becca was ugly crying in her seat.
Calvin had one knee on the table and was looking down the barrel of Dean’s revolver.
Dean’s other arm was crossed and aiming a the M1911 pistol at Allen’s face.
On the floor, Connor’s back pressed against Allen’s chest. His legs kicking out in odd directions as the knife pressed against his neck skin.
Allen bunt Connor’s right arm bent behind his back while Connor’s left arm clawed at the hand holding the knife.
Across from Naomi, Trinity fought for Cathleen’s pistol. Its barrel pointed at an angle to the ceiling.
Cathleen’s back was smashed into the glass. Her face was scrunched and wet with tears and she fought for control of the weapon.
Naomi thoughts moved at rapid-fire speed. A sinister part of her wanted to grab her steak knife and use Becca as leverage, but her conscience prevented her from doing so. The next thought was to rush to Trinity’s aid, but she knew that the moment Dean saw her make a quick movement, he’d put a bullet in Calvin’s head. Naomi’s final thought was that this was all a bad dream. There wasn’t any other way this could happen. Not after all she’d done to keep the peace.
That’s when she saw the golden glint in the corner of her eyes.
Outside the barred window, a little golden bell quietly jingled.
It meant one thing.
Intruders.
11
The Stand
“They’re here!” Naomi screamed over the fighting.
Becca was the first to look her way and then to the ringing bell. “Oh, God, no…”
Trinity and Cathleen paused, both hands still on the pistol aimed at the ceiling.
Dean’s face glowed red as he bounced his gaze between the bell, Calvin, and Allen, unsure what he should be looking at.
Conner stopped thrashing.
Calvin, still on the table, looked out the window. “How many?”
After a moment of hesitation, Naomi rushed to the window. The wind had kicked up, sending light snowflakes swirling chaotically.
“No one is in the yard yet.” She twisted back to the feuding families. “Get Becca and Trinity downstairs. Dean, Conner, and Calvin, get outside and guard the wall. Allen and I will get to the balcony, see if we can get eyes on them.”
No one moved.
Dean eyed her with his gun still trained Calvin. “You expect us to trust you?”
“Trust or no, the real threat is outside.” Naomi pointed back behind her and spoke with rage. “You want to die tonight, keep playing cowboy. As for me and my family, we will see the sun rise.”
Trinity looked at Naomi for guidance.
Forehead sweat and eyes alert, Naomi nodded at her.
The thirteen-
year-old released the gun and backed away from Cathleen. Dazed almost, Trinity took Becca’s hand. “Come on.”
Becca glanced up with a tear-soaked face heavy with shame and remorse.
Trinity pulled on her arm, her dazed nature turning into her mother’s determination. “Get up.”
Naomi stared at her brother. “Allen, get the basement open.”
“And let him go?” Allen asked. “He tried to kill me.”
“Save that for counseling,” Naomi replied. “We need to move.”
Frowning heavily, Allen spoke into Conner’s ear. “I’m only doing this because I love my sister.” He took the knife from Conner and pushed him aside, quickly getting to his feet.
Conner hunched over and grabbed his bleeding neck. He grimaced in pain.
Naomi waited to see what Dean would do. “Ball is in your court.”
Dean looked to Cathleen.
She was trembling, looking down at her weapon. Getting no response, he turned to Conner on the floor.
Allen stood behind him with the dripping knife firmly grasped in his hands.
Eyes red and watering, Conner turned his gaze back to Dean. “Do as she says.”
Dean set his jaw, his face and ears turning redder in anger. “But--”
“Brother!” Conner spit as he shouted. “Just put down the guns!”
After speaking, Conner put his hands back on his injured neck.
Dean slowly began to lower the gun. He watched Allen like a hawk.
The tension hung in the air like a thick cloud.
“The keys, Allen,” Naomi commanded.
Allen scanned the room with pensive expression on his face. Grumbling, he pulled out the basement keys out of his pocket and tossed it.
Naomi caught them without blinking. “Girls. Come on.”
She picked up a candle from the table and hurried to the basement door, hoping that the teenagers would be in tow. She thumbed through the keys, trying each one on the locks. She didn’t want to look back. She didn't want to see that nothing had changed. She got the first lock open and then started on the second just as Dean and Conner moved into the hall and toward the front door. Dean opened it, holding it with his back so Conner could pass through. The howling wind nearly killed Naomi’s candle.
Aftermath (Book 1): Aftermath Page 14
