Good Intentions (The Road to Hell Series, Book 1)

by Brenda K. Davies

  They hadn’t wiped out our government and military in one swoop, but they had taken a good chunk of our population and many had starved to death in the chaotic months following the bombs. Some probably still did starve to death in some areas. In some ways, their attack on the Midwest states had been the cruelest option.

  Gage walked in from the kitchen. His dark blond hair stood up in tussled disarray, and his brown eyes were focused on me. The bottom of the linen pants he wore, which I’d purchased only three months ago, hung to the midpoint of his shin. I’d made the right choice going for pants for him instead of a new pair of shoes for me.

  He grinned as he nodded toward the fish slung over my shoulder. “Good catch, Pittah.”

  I smiled at the name he’d called me ever since he’d learned how to speak and hadn’t been able to pronounce my name correctly. “Thanks.”

  I walked past him and into the kitchen. Opening up the small ice chest, I dumped the fish inside. Like Mrs. Loud, we had extra ice in there in preparation for the blackouts, but sometimes the blackouts lasted days and nothing helped to ward off spoiling then. Gage would have this fish filleted and ready to cook before it could spoil and the other one would be going to Volunteer Day with us.

  Gage had once insisted he should be the one doing the fishing and me the cooking. He’d given up after two days when the only fish he could catch, I burned to a crisp, and not on purpose.

  “Did she eat?” I asked him and waved my hand at the living room.

  “Naw, she’s been watching that TV like a zombie.”

  I rolled my eyes and pulled the tin of ointment from the pouch of my faded green windbreaker. My finger got caught in one of the holes on the outside of my pouch. I’d have to take the time to stitch it again tonight, before the hole became too big. I placed the tin on the counter.

  “Mrs. Loud is going to make you some new pants,” I told him.

  Gage glanced at the bottom of his pants. “They’re fine. You need new shoes.”

  “They’re not fine. You look like you’re going wading, and I can make it a couple more weeks with the shoes I’ve got. Where’s Bailey?”

  I’d just gotten his name out when I heard a giggle from one of the kitchen cabinets. I glanced at Gage who smiled back at me. “I have no idea where he is,” Gage said.

  Another giggle followed his statement. “I wonder where he could be,” I said, playing along with Gage.

  “I don’t know. Maybe he’s run away,” Gage replied.

  “I hope not. I sure would miss him.”

  Bailey’s laughter grew louder before becoming muffled. The image of him with his pudgy hands over his mouth, trying to stifle his laughter, burst into my mind. Taking a deep breath, I rested my hands on the counter as the clear picture of Bailey hiding beneath the sink in only his diaper grew stronger in my mind before fading away.

  Gage rested his hand on my shoulder, drawing me back to the “real world.” His mouth compressed as his eyes surveyed me. “You okay?” he demanded.

  “Fine,” I croaked out.

  “Vision?”

  “Sort of,” I murmured and opened the cabinet next to the sink to remove a glass.

  Turning the water on, Gage took the glass from me and filled it before handing it back. “What did you see?”

  “Where Bailey is hiding.”

  “Not much of a secret,” he replied flippantly, but I heard the undercurrent of tension in his tone.

  He hated it when the “weird occurrences,” as he liked to call them, took me over. I hated it when they took me over, but I tried not to let him see that. The older Gage got though, the more he saw through my ‘it doesn’t bother me’ façade. Neither of us knew what caused the strange happenings or why.

  For the most part, they were innocuous, but once, when I’d been exceptionally pissed off at my mother, the curtains in my room had caught on fire. To this day, I still wasn’t sure it was me who had started it, but I couldn’t rid myself of the sinking suspicion it had been my fault. I was touching them at the time after all.

  Gage had helped me douse the flames and dispose of the curtains, but we’d both been rattled by what had happened and never spoke of it again.

  I also didn’t know why a couple of times golden-white sparks had danced across my fingertips and hands. I repeatedly told myself it had only been static electricity. I may be the queen of denial, but I had no idea what else it could have been, and trying to figure it out only made my head hurt. Besides, that had only happened a few times, and there was no reason why it couldn’t have been some strange electrical phenomenon. Thankfully, it had never drawn the attention of anyone else when it happened, so I’d somehow managed to keep one oddity to myself.

  The visions, and glimpses of things I had no way of knowing about, happened more often and were more difficult to keep from Gage. The only other person who knew about them was Lisa, but she knew nothing of the curtain incident. I saw no reason to freak her out over it.

  These strange occurrences were a few more of the things I assumed I’d inherited from my father; the man had left more than his child behind when he’d abandoned my mother. I sometimes wished I knew how to contact him, not because I would like a father in my life, but because I wanted to know if anything like this had ever happened to him.

  There were times I felt completely alone in the world. A freak living in a world that had become pretty damn freaky on that long ago July day.

  “I don’t know where to look for Bailey,” I said, forcing the words out and giving Gage a smile as I returned to playing the game. “We’ll have to go into town without him then.”

  Gage’s brown eyes were still troubled, but he didn’t question me further. It was risky for us to talk of such things. If someone ever overheard…

  I shuddered at the possibilities. Today would be the day, if something were to happen, but I knew I had nothing to worry about from Gage and Lisa, so I would be safe. I glanced at the living room doorway, but the only sound I heard out there was the continuous update from the news.

  “Guess I’ll get to play on the swings all by myself today,” Gage said loud enough that Bailey could hear him.

  The laughter from beneath the sink stopped. My smile was genuine now as I finished off my water. “Maybe we could find him,” I suggested.

  “Do we really want to try? It doesn’t seem like he wants to see us.”

  There was complete silence from under the sink before the door creaked open a little. I pretended not to notice it, but out of the corner of my eye, I saw one of Bailey’s blue eyes press against the crack.

  “We might as well try, but if we can’t find him, we’ll have to leave without him. Bailey!” I called. “Bailey!”

  The door closed again and another giggle sounded. I bit my inner lip to keep from laughing as we went through the kitchen, opening and closing the cabinet doors. Gage opened the closet door in the hall before closing it again. We were halfway through the charade when I saw the cabinet open again and Bailey’s eye peeping out.

  Growing tired of waiting, I thought.

  Bending down, I pretended to search the cabinets on either side of him before closing the doors. “Only one place left to look,” I said loudly. Bailey’s laughter increased, and I cracked the door open and poked my head inside. He was exactly as I had pictured, tucked beneath the sink in only his diaper. “There you are!”

  Bailey squealed with laughter when I grabbed hold of his plump belly and pulled him from beneath the sink. “Here I am!” he cried and threw his arms around my neck. “You’re a bad searcher.”

  “I am,” I agreed and placed him on the counter.

  His blond hair hung in disheveled ringlets around his flushed, round cheeks. He was only two and a half, but like Gage and me, he was tall and his legs hung down over the counter to kick against the silverware drawer. I poked his round belly before checking his cloth diaper. My nose wrinkled at the potent aroma wafting from it.

  “You stink,” I told him and kiss
ed the tip of his nose.

  He giggled then laughed when Gage handed him a small piece of bread. “Eat this, B,” he told him. Bailey held the bread as I gathered a towel and spread it out on the counter. “What are we feeding this kid?” Gage asked when I pulled the diaper off.

  “I don’t know, but we’re going to have to stop,” I replied and Bailey giggled again. He may be the worst smelling kid on the face of the planet, but he was also the happiest.

  I would have given anything to be able to toss the diaper out, but we couldn’t afford to waste anything. I dropped it into the can Gage held out for me. I really hoped Bailey would get the hang of toilet training soon, but so far, he’d been stubborn about it.

  “I’ll take it outside to hose it off,” Gage offered.

  “Thanks.”

  “I stink!” Bailey declared proudly.

  “You do,” I confirmed as I cleaned him up and pinned a clean diaper on him. “Now we’re going to get you ready for town.”

  “Town!” he shouted gleefully.

  I lifted him off the counter as the lights went out. Heaving a sigh, I listened to the last, fading words of the news broadcast. Gage’s smile vanished when he stepped back through the door. His gaze went straight to the now-hushed living room.

  “Crap,” he muttered.

  Seconds later, I heard the shuffling sounds of my mother’s feet. Bailey’s smile faded away; his arms slid around my neck as he pressed closer. His warm body helped to ease the chill creeping down my spine. After all my years with our mother, I should be used to her, but I could live another fifty years and never be quite prepared for the woman who appeared in the kitchen.

  Her blue eyes slid over us, but never really seemed to see us as she approached the sink. I cradled Bailey closer and stepped away from her. “We’re going to Volunteer Day,” I said to her.

  She didn’t respond as she retrieved a glass and filled it with water. Her eyes flitted over me before focusing on Gage. She wasn’t overly fond of any of us, but there was no doubt I was the one she cared for the least.

  “Make sure you take your brother’s diapers with you,” she told Gage.

  Like we ever forget. I held back the words. I was a guest within these walls, an interloper, and there were more than a few times when I’d been kicked out on the street. I’d spent those times with Lisa’s parents, but after a week or two, I was asked back as Gage would refuse to cook for her or do anything around the house. Unlike me, he didn’t care if she ate or not. Possible starvation, and the fact she didn’t like taking care of her children, had always allowed me back into the house.

  I couldn’t risk being thrown out again. She may be a small, frail woman with stooped shoulders and bones that stuck out, but she could cause a lot of damage to my brothers without me here to take the brunt of her vile words.

  Over the years, my hair had been pulled, and I’d been slapped in the face more times than I could count. I’d been beaten so badly I couldn’t sit for a week, and once kicked in the stomach, but her main weapon was her mouth, and she wielded it like a pro. I had more practice at fending her off than my brothers did and I tried to keep them from the worst of her degradation.

  “We won’t forget the diapers,” Gage promised.

  She opened the cooler and snickered at the fish inside. “Striper again.”

  “I’ll grill them,” Gage said, his eyes flickering to me as he tried to placate her antagonism toward me. “Something different tonight.”

  My mother’s eyes landed briefly on me. Her upper lip curled as she looked me up and down. Turning his head away, Bailey rested his cheek against mine. “You’re such a waste,” she sneered. “Evil. The spawn of Satan.”

  I’d heard it before; I was sure I’d hear it many more times before I was able to break free of this woman. Something I hoped to be able to do one day, but though she despised me, she was my mother, and I couldn’t abandon her here to die, even if I could somehow walk out the door with Gage and Bailey. She may not love them, but she would fight me for them and possibly have me thrown in jail if I tried to take them. While my brothers were here, so was I.

  “Garbage, just like your father,” she spat.

  I kept my mouth closed while she shuffled back out the door. My shoulders sagged and I inhaled an unsteady breath. I hated that she still rattled me, that I hadn’t better hardened myself against her. Maybe one day.

  “I’ll gather Bailey’s clothes after I take a shower,” I said to Gage.

  His troubled eyes met mine before he gave a brief bow of his head. I handed him Bailey and slipped from the room.

  CHAPTER 4

  River

  The center of town was abuzz with the excitement of the day. There was little for anyone to be excited about these days, but the yearly Volunteer Day was one of those things. Mingling with the people of the town were some of the soldiers who guarded the bridge and helped to maintain order in the town. The police force had been absorbed into the Guard branch of the military that some people joined when they were eighteen. Most of those who joined the Guard remained in their towns and with their families, unlike the volunteers.

  I spotted Asante amid the bustling crowd. He stood with a group of Guards who watched the crowd with blank expressions. Asante had grown up in a house down the road from us and had enlisted six years ago, the day he’d turned eighteen. He’d done his grueling, three-month training at the nearby military base that had been reopened after the war. Many who enlisted didn’t get through the training, but he had flown through it with flying colors and returned to living in the neighborhood when it was over.

  Making my way through the crowd, I stopped before him.

  “Santa,” Bailey, unable to pronounce Asante’s name, greeted.

  Asante smiled down at him, his sable brown eyes twinkling with amusement. Beads of sweat dotted the top of his freshly shaven head as the sun played over his mocha-colored skin. Bailey stuck his hand in his mouth and grinned back at him.

  “Hey, B,” Asante greeted Bailey. “River, how you been?”

  “Same stuff, different day,” I told him. “You know how it goes.”

  “I do. How many volunteers do you think we’ll have today?”

  I frowned as I pondered his question. Normally, ten to thirty kids volunteered every year, but lately there had been more growing suspicions and horror stories about what resided on the other side of the wall. The rumors had cropped up once every few years since the war had ended, and when they did, the number of volunteers decreased.

  It didn’t matter. I already had a pretty good idea of how many there would be. “Eight, what do you think?” I asked.

  “I’m going with eleven.”

  “You’re more optimistic than me.”

  He turned his attention away from me as the large, covered truck rumbled by us. All around us, people stopped to stare at the camouflage-colored military vehicle. It was a clear sign the soldiers from the wall had arrived. Every year, on May fifteenth, the government sent back some of the soldiers who guarded the wall to every town on the Cape.

  This day was the only time we saw vehicles as big as the ones that came to collect the volunteers. The Guards had some vehicles to transport them back and forth to their assignments, but they were mostly pickup trucks, some vans, and cars. For the rest of us, gas had become so sparse and regulated that feet and bicycles were the main mode of transportation.

  “Our yearly visit,” Gage murmured from beside me. “One of these times, I’d like to see a volunteer we know return.”

  I adjusted my hold on Bailey as the truck parked in the center of what had once been the high school football field. One year after the first bombs fell, we had returned to school. I’d stumbled through another couple of years of schooling before realizing I couldn’t keep up anymore, and there was no reason to. Many of the things we’d learned in the past weren’t as relevant anymore. People now taught medicine, gardening, sewing, fishing, construction, carpentry, and anything else necessary
to survive. I missed learning and wished I had the chance to read more often, as we still did have a small library, but there just wasn’t any time for such things anymore.

  Though my schooling had ended earlier than I’d hoped, at least I had learned what started the war when I’d returned to school. We’d been told Russia was behind the attack. They’d grouped together with North Korea and China to launch an invasion that had decimated our country, but ultimately failed.

  There had been a similar attack in Europe and Asia that had been more successful. Many Middle Eastern countries had fallen to them before parts of Germany, France, Norway, and Sweden also succumbed. Now, like us, those countries were scattered and trying to rebuild behind a wall, but they were surviving.

  We’d never seen the invaders here. They’d never come at us from the sea or across the land from the center of the country. The war that had been waged in the Midwest was something we had little idea about; the news stations hadn’t been running during the war, and the people who went to fight never returned.

  When the government started recruiting people to build the wall a couple of months after the war started, people had gone, but none of them had returned either. Letters from those fighters, builders, and past volunteers made their way back every year, so we knew some of them were still alive.

  Going to the wall was associated with death by some. Others believed it an adventure, a promise of better things for themselves and their families. It was usually the younger people who considered it an adventure, which was one of the reasons why I suspected the government started taking volunteers at sixteen.

  I’d never considered volunteering, not with Gage and Bailey to care for. That didn’t mean I wasn’t as curious as everyone else about what went on at the wall and what became of the volunteers who left here and had yet to return. I wasn’t sure if it was the curiosity or the promises given that drove most of the volunteers to step forward.

  It didn’t matter, the volunteers would keep enrolling and the government would keep coming for them. I watched as a woman with her hair pulled into a severe bun climbed down from the driver’s seat. Gray had started to streak her dark blonde hair. Lines had formed under her eyes and around her mouth. She stopped and stood at the front of the truck with her hands folded before her.