WWIV - Hope In The Darkness

by E A Lake

  Hunter stood in the back bedroom on the first floor of the last house of the day. This bed looked slept in, and recently. The clothes on the ground next to the closet door looked fresh as well. Instead of being covered with dust and possessing a musty odor, these clothes were just dirty. Picking up a large sheathed hunting knife from the nightstand, he returned to the living room. There he sat against the wood stove on the wall to the left and slapped the knife against his open palm. Something wasn’t right. This was all too easy.

  The clothes scattered about the living room seemed as fresh as the ones in the bedroom. Picking up a shirt from the couch, Hunter sniffed the front. Smoky, the smell of an old campfire. Tossing the shirt aside his eyes roamed the room. Why didn’t this place smell as musty as most the other abandoned places?

  Feeling warmth in the seat of his pants he rose from his seat on the stove. He shook it off quickly. It was a stove, so of course it was warm. Hunter froze. Why was the stove this warm, he asked himself? Kneeling he opened the front door and blew on the ashes. As the grey and white ash floated away like cattail fuzz in a breeze, he focused on what lie below. His eyes narrowed seeing the orange of the glowing embers.

  Hunter jumped and twisted around, reassessing the situation. As the knife slipped from his grip, his eyes opened wide as he now realized what the clues had meant to tell him all along. Instantly he thought of the girls and babies as his heart raced. “Holy crap!” he screamed as he sprinted for the wagon.

  Less than 15 minutes later, Hunter turned the sprinting horse pulling a full wagon onto the driveway to the farm. He breathed a sigh of relief upon seeing the plain white house. Although he had planned on being back earlier, he was glad for that one extra stop. Jumping from the wagon, he ran for the house, calling out everyone’s names as he drew near. His stomach dropped hearing no responses.

  Panic rose quickly, causing him to lose his breath. Where were they all? Louder he called their names while dashing from room to room throughout the house. It was as if they had all simply vanished. It was just like… His heart beat like a drum in his ears as the fear caused his fingers to curl toward their palms. With staggered breaths he made his way for the back door.

  Just as he was about to wildly scream their names, he heard voices coming from behind the barn. Shortly thereafter, Theresa and the teens came into view with their babies in tow. Two were in strollers he had found yesterday, and three were on their mother’s hips. The group turned his way seeing him. Sister Theresa walked quickly ahead.

  “Our hero has returned,” Theresa called as she and the girls rounded the barn. “And quite a harvest I see.” Theresa stopped short seeing the concern on Hunter’s face. “What’s wrong?” she asked as she came closer.

  Hunter approached faster now, almost running their direction. “Where the hell have you been?” he shouted, pointing at Theresa.

  Theresa’s surprise covered her face, as she stood still with her mouth hanging open. “Hunter, what’s wrong?” she asked again, hoping for a civil reaction. Instead she received another strong dose of his anger.

  Standing less than a foot from her, she noticed his hands clenched in fists of rage. “What kind of a fool wanders off and doesn’t leave a note!” he shouted. “Especially when you knew I was coming back.” He looked past her at the stunned teens, frozen in place by his outburst.

  “Hunter,” Theresa started again, “we were simply out for a walk in the summer sun, around the farm. We didn’t go far, I promise.” She reached for his arm but he pulled angrily away. “Now, tell me what’s wrong?” The soft tone she used soothed his anger like salve on a burn. She watched as his breathing slowed and some of the red left his face.

  Reaching out he took her hand and together they walked out into the field, away from the girls and their babies. “I was worried because I saw that,” he said, pointing at the smoke in the southern sky. “So I rushed back to be sure you were okay.”

  “That can’t be good,” Theresa replied still standing hand in hand. Hunter felt her grip tighten.

  Chapter Thirty

  The pair watched the smoke rise in the evening sky. Hunter explained to Theresa what they were looking at, or toward in this case. “There’s a small little village down there, Emmitsville. A dozen houses and a gas station.” Hunter sighed. “I suppose some idiot may have accidentally started the little bit of gas left on fire. Maybe.”

  Theresa peeked at the sullen man. His face was tight. “Or…” Theresa carefully picked her words. “…another Genoa perhaps?” Theresa saw his face tighten further. “Is that what it could be?” Hunter flexed his neck back and forth.

  “Not sure. It was pretty quiet out on the road today. Almost too quiet.” Hunter stepped further into the field after breaking his grip with Theresa’s hand. “It’s the only smoke I see in the south. Or in any direction for that matter.” He turned back to the nun. “But I don’t like it. No matter what it might be.” The pair started back for the side yard. “That’s why I grabbed two shotguns I found at the last place. Even with me here, we need as much protection as we can safely store.” He saw Theresa pondering his words, none too happy.

  “You know how I feel about violence, Hunter.” Theresa thought further. “Oh Hunter, you don’t think trouble is coming, do you?” Theresa sadly looked up at him.

  “We don’t know. Probably get word from Henry in the morning. I’m sure a few of the Amish kids snuck down there to see what’s going on.” Hunter leaned against the wagon, deep in thought. “Maybe I’ll wander over later tonight and see if he’s heard anything. Let’s not panic before we know anything. But I think we need to be prepared.” Theresa read his serious expression and exhaled loudly.

  “I suppose you should bring those guns inside then. Just put them somewhere safe and out of the way. We can discuss this with the girls after the babies are all sleeping.” She stepped closer to Hunter. “I do want to be prepared for the worst, if need be.” Hunter grabbed them first from the back of the wagon. Theresa’s agreement on the guns made him feel better, even if it was only a little.

  After dinner, Hunter walked across the back field in the late early-summer light. Theresa and Sara watched him leave. Sara appeared concerned tonight. She had seen Hunter bring weapons inside and store them in the back of the pantry. She wondered what caused Theresa to switch her stance on guns so quickly. She kept her questions to herself.

  “Sister?” Mary spoke from the doorway of the dining room to the pair watching out the back kitchen window. “I saw you holding Hunter’s hand earlier. Was there a change of heart?” Mary grinned coyly at the nun. Sara looked up in complete surprise, smiling. Theresa shook her head, smiling as well.

  “No, he was just showing me the smoke. I think he was just being nice, knowing it would worry me.” Theresa turned her head from the girls’ gaze. “And while it worries me, I have to believe that God will not allow anything bad to happen to us.” The teens nodded.

  “Not while Hunter’s around at least.” Sara spoke softly, almost as a thought.

  “Did he notice the extra food in the pantry?” Mary asked.

  Theresa shrugged at the pair. “There’s no way he could have missed it. He was in and out of there a dozen times tonight. I’m sure he noticed, and I’m sure he’s aware of what might have happened. But he’s awfully preoccupied at the moment. I’m sure we’ll hear about it in the next day or two.”

  Sara pouted off in the distance. “I’ve never heard Hunter yell before. He was really mad when we got back.”

  Theresa hugged her tightly trying to chase away her sadness. “He was just very worried about us, that’s all Sara. The raised voice was caused by fear. Nothing more.”

  “So do you think Hunter cares about us, Sister?” Mary rocked slightly as she spoke, not knowing what to expect.

  “Yes he does, Mary. And very much it would appear from the display he put on earlier. You can’t hide that kind of emotion.” Mary joined the hug, happy with Theresa’s response.

  Hunt
er was back quickly from Henry’s. He had barely left, it seemed, when he burst through the back door. A heavy scowl covered his face. He spoke to the group congregated in the living room, lit with the bright kerosene lamplight.

  “There was a problem down in Emmitsville. Still is a problem, from what Henry was told.” Hunter’s eyes moved from face to face; all showed fear. “Not sure exactly how it started, but someone burned the place to the ground. Every last home was torched. None were spared.” He noticed tears in Sara’s and Emily’s eyes.

  Theresa looked petrified. “The residents, Hunter?” Theresa asked the question on everyone’s mind. Hunter weighed his words carefully.

  “I’m told some, a few, made it out alive. The majority of the population is unaccounted for tonight. Some 35 people or so.” His gaze fell to the floor. “Eight survivors so far.” Hands came up to faces; the girls gasped. More tears followed.

  “Are the bad people still there?” Theresa kept at the pressing issue.

  Hunter thought further. “No. Henry said no one was there at last check. Whoever did this has moved on.” He saw the outright fright on six faces around him. He carefully continued. “The Amish down that direction have set up skirmish lines on all the roads leading out of Emmitsville. Three, four miles back. They’re determined to turn back any undesirables that might try and come north. Toward them, at least.” Hunter looked at Theresa, still trying her best to put on a brave face for the girls. “Last word was no engagements have been reported yet. That’s good news.”

  Theresa stepped forward. “That is good news. We should all pray for their safety tonight, and thank God for such brave neighbors. We are very fortunate.” Theresa breathed a little easier hearing Hunter’s last news.

  Karen stepped forward to get Hunter’s attention. “Hunter, what are we going to do? We’re not ready for something like this. That must have been a pretty large group to take on forty-some people. You alone can’t protect us from that.”

  Heads bobbed quickly and all faces fell on Hunter for answers. This wasn’t what he wanted. This was exactly what he had been trying to avoid so desperately. But here it was – trouble in a big way.

  Hunter gazed at everyone as he spoke. “We’ll have to keep our lamps low tonight and until we know the danger has passed. We’ll sleep in shifts with two awake at all times. Each armed with a shotgun.” Theresa rose to express her concerns, but Hunter gave her a frown. “We have to, Sister. We have to be prepared. We have to be armed. No more easing around it. The worst appears to be among us. We have to fight it off.”

  Theresa thought for a long moment, her eyes focused on the wood floor. Finally, she raised her tense face. “Agreed.” Now she looked at her girls. “Who here has shot a gun?” Karen, Mary, and Sara raised their hands. Theresa focused on Emily and Sheila. “Have either of you handled a gun before? Do you know anything about them?” Emily nodded.

  Sheila was blank. “I’ve never seen a gun before the militia showed up at school,” Sheila started, almost on the verge of tears. “My parents were big anti-violence people. Hunter’s gun is the only one I’ve ever seen up close.”

  Theresa stepped near the frightened teen. “You’ll be in charge of the babies then. All five will sleep upstairs with you and Emily tonight.” She turned back to the others. “Mary will take first watch with Hunter. Karen and Sara will be teamed with me for the second watch. I’ve handled guns before, back on the farm. I know my way around them. Just remember, we need to be safe with loaded weapons in the house.” Theresa came back to Hunter. All eyes focused on him.

  “God willing, there’ll be no action tonight or at all, for that matter. Tomorrow morning we can have everyone fire a couple of rounds so they see what these things do.” His focus went carefully around the room and finally settled on Theresa. “Henry figures if we’re going to see action, it will be in the next 24 to 48 hours. I tend to agree with him. Hopefully, whoever did this in Emmitsville won’t come this way. Or they’ll miss us in the middle of the night. We’ll watch the road carefully. I wouldn’t expect them to try and sneak up on a dark house in the middle of the night.” He pointed at Mary. “Make sure Rachel is set for a long sleep. Then meet me on the porch. The rest of you get ready for bed, and get those lights dimmed.”

  Emily and Sheila got the babies situated in the large upstairs bedroom. They’d been fed and changed so they would be good until late into the night, hopefully. The girls brought up extra diapers and warmed up bottles, wrapped in tin foil they had found. With any luck, they could make it to first light.

  While the others dimmed the lamps and crawled into bed – Theresa in her small bed, Karen and Sara back in Emily’s usual spot – Hunter and Mary took their seats on the front porch. The night was dark, as most nights are. But this night looked darker than most. Hunter could see plenty of stars, so either the moon hadn’t risen yet, or they were in a new moon period. The wind had laid down completely, and it was eerily silent out front. Hunter leaned his gun on the front ledge; Mary had hers tightly in her hands.

  “Ease up on that gun, Mary.” Hunter smiled at the younger nervous teen. “We’re not ready for battle just yet.” Mary took a depth breath and sat back in her chair, leaning her gun safely against the wall. In the darkness, Hunter saw her head shake back and forth.

  “What has happened to this world, Hunter? Our world? First, when I was seven the lights and power went out. At ten, my parents found somewhere to send me. For the last four years, I’ve been alone at DeepHaven.” Mary sighed. “I thought I was safe there. What a joke that turned out to be. Those militia guys showed up, and I was out of there so fast I barely had time to think. Then they plunked us down here in the country, where they say we’ll be safe. Ha!” Mary sighed at Hunter. “Now I’m standing guard with a gun in case we get attacked in the middle of the night.” She eyes the man seriously. “What the hell has happened to this world?”

  Hunter shrugged at the darkness. “I have no idea, Mary. None whatsoever. I know there’s been trouble on the road the past few summers. But Genoa this spring, that came out of nowhere. That attack shook most people to their core. Almost everyone thought the worst was behind us by now. That’s what Henry and I hoped for.” Hunter felt for a cigarette before he realized he had none left. He must have left them in the house. But he didn’t think Mary would appreciate being left alone while he rummaged through the house looking for his missing pack. He laughed at himself.

  “Something funny?” Mary heard the small chuckle.

  Hunter held up his right hand to silence her quickly. There was something, or someone, coming down the main road.

  Chapter Thirty-one

  Hunter and Mary sat silently, nervously eyeing the road some 200 yards in front of them. They could easily hear something coming. The only sound cutting through the tense night air was that of footsteps. Fortunately, Hunter sensed it was a single soul. No more than two if he had to guess, but almost certainly just one person.

  Mary held her breath as the dark figure appeared on the road. It was a person, that much they both knew. And perhaps only one. And then, the traveler passed. Mary snuck a peek at Hunter, staring into the black night. She wouldn’t move or say a word until he seemed sure the danger had disappeared.

  Finally, after what seemed like an hour, but couldn’t have been more than five minutes, Hunter looked back at Mary. “Single traveler. Walking north down the center of the highway. Thought I heard something slapping against his midsection. Maybe a backpack, maybe a gun. Not sure. But he’s gone.” Hunter sat back in his chair. Mary stayed on guard.

  “I suppose that happens all the time, right?” Mary spoke in a whisper; Hunter shrugged. “I mean, this just happens to be the first night we’re out here listening for something. So who knows, maybe the road is full every night.” Mary’s eyes focused on the road. Hunter contemplated her words.

  He’d been out here on the porch for more than a few nights. Maybe people had been sneaking by, but not that he was aware. He’d heard one t
hing, one unidentifiable sound the first night out here. Since then, nothing. He glanced forward and then down, to be sure his gun was within easy reach. Then he checked Mary’s, as well. All quiet on the eastern porch, he thought to himself.

  The remainder of their four-hour shift passed uneventfully. Mary thought she’d heard a sound about 1a.m., but it turned out to be one of the babies crying upstairs. Either Sheila or Emily jumped right on the issue, and all was quiet as Mary went to wake Theresa, and then Karen and Sara for their watch.

  Two yawning tired teens greeted Hunter and Theresa on the dark porch. According to Hunter’s old windup wristwatch, it was just after 2 o’clock. Mary climbed into Sister Theresa’s bed. She was most likely sleeping already. Hunter briefed the three, new to the watch. One person just past midnight, all clear ever since. He expected it to be a quiet night. He quizzed the two younger gals on their shooting skills.

  “My dad was a big outdoorsman. I spent a lot of time in the woods with him when I was younger, before I went to DeepHaven. I’ve shot mostly smaller stuff.” Sara seemed at ease around guns. This made Hunter happy. “But I’ve shot a shotgun before. I know how they can kick,” Sara finished.

  “Karen?” Hunter asked quietly, in a hushed tone. He didn’t know, but Karen was smiling.

  “I shot trap with my parents for a year before they dropped me off at DeepHaven. Mostly 20 gauge, but I’ve touched off a couple 3 &1/2 inch goose loads before.” Karen could tell this pleased Hunter. She just knew it.

  “Okay then. You’re all ready.” He pointed at the road. “Stay as quiet as possible and watch the road for movement. But trust me, you’ll hear it first before you see it. So listen for anything unusual.” The three guards nodded back at their chief. They were ready for their duty. Hunter hoped for nothing but silence.

  The three scouts sat silently for the first hour, and the silence echoed back. Thankfully, there was not as much as a squeak from the road. Nerves settled as time slowly moved forward. Theresa sat on one end, Karen on the other, with Sara sandwiched between; each in their own chair. If there was trouble, Theresa and Karen would serve as the defenders. Sara would go wake Hunter. For the moment, this arrangement suited Sara just fine.