The Ocean in the Fire

by Renee N. Meland

  He looked in his eyes, and through the thick smoke, uttered the words he never thought he would say to the second man who had almost destroyed his life. “Thank you.”

  Brian helped him make it to the top of the stairs, letting Connor lean against him. When they got there, Connor pushed himself up, wanting to walk unaided. Connor started down the top step, but turned back to look at him. Both men stood there for one precious moment, staring at each other with something bordering on respect.

  Connor will never know why Brian hesitated to follow him. But because he did, Brian paused long enough to look up and see that a beam was about to crash down upon him. He had but a second of life left, and he used it to say four words. “Take care of Harper.”

  Then he was gone, slipping into the wood crevice that had formed below him, swallowed up by the house and the earth and the flames.

  When Connor stumbled out, Kate was there to greet him with a huge smile and a tearful embrace. “Thank God!” He wrapped his arms around her and let her sob into his chest, and he fought the urge to cry too. He had gotten everything so wrong.

  If a man dies saving another man’s life, the living man carries the weight of that responsibility. But if that man is terminally ill? That loss weighs heavier still. Brian had his whole life ahead of him, a life that he had planned to spend taking care of Connor’s daughter. Given his own circumstances, Brian dying and Connor living didn’t make sense. In a logical universe, Brian would have lived, and Connor would have been the one lost to the fire. But that wasn’t what happened, and if it wasn’t, what did that say about the world that he was going to leave his children in? Someone he had just figured out was a good man had lost his life saving his, and what he had tried to save was about to burn up anyway. But as the house came crashing down in front of them, he realized that losing it didn’t matter. He hadn’t lost control because he never had it to begin with. It was just an illusion, something that could be snatched away in an instant with something as simple as a single match.

  That evening, the group piled into the small bunker that Connor had built just in case something ever happened to their home. It was similar to their house: a shipping container that he had rigged to give them oxygen and had buried below the ground. He’d never thought they’d need to use it, but he was certainly glad he had taken the precaution now that the place he loved had been reduced to ash-covered rubble. He sat in one of the white plastic chairs that he had placed there and looked around: cans, water jugs, blankets…it would be enough to last them a couple months. With as many people as they had, they would need to get more supplies, but it would be a good start as they began to rebuild.

  That evening, he had gone outside to call Gordon on the radio to give them an update on their situation. When he came back inside, a heavy knot formed in his stomach. Gordon had given him something to tell his family a long time ago, back before they were invaded in fact, but that was not the time. The news he had heard would have to stay with him and him alone. There were other matters to attend to, ones that couldn’t wait a moment longer.

  After they had all eaten a meager dinner of canned soup, Connor steadied himself for a conversation with Harper that he knew he was unprepared for. She was lying down on top of a blanket, curled in a ball and staring at the side of the bunker. He grabbed a chair and scooted it next to her and as he sat down, he gently rested his hand on her shoulder. “I’m sorry about Brian.”

  She shook his hand away, as if his touch burned. “No you’re not. You hated him from the start.”

  “You’re right. I did.” He took a deep breath. “But after what he did today, I can see I was wrong.”

  She rolled over and looked him straight in the eyes. “He’s dead now. It’s a little late for platitudes.”

  Her devious eyes, the ones she had used to manipulate him from the moment she was born, were now swollen with tears and rage. “Absolutely.” He hesitated. “But you know what? I know now that what you felt for him was real. You deserved the chance to feel that way, and I’m sorry that I tried to take that away from you.”

  She looked at him silently for several moments. Finally, she said, “You really do mean that, don’t you?”

  He took comfort in her tone: more of a declaration than a question. And when she gave him a slight, approving nod, he knew he had gotten through to the fearless child who may never know the absence of fear again.

  He wasn’t sure if the tears he allowed to come were for the man he had misjudged, or for the daughter who would never be the same. If he had to guess, he would say what finally broke him down was a bit of both. Brian had died rescuing a man whose own life was slipping away, and the look on his daughter’s face said that he had taken a piece of her with him. For that, he deserved to be remembered with positivity, and maybe for the optimism that had led him to open their doors to strangers. So, for just a brief bit of time, he could allow himself to openly grieve alongside her for the man who had tried, in his own way, to save them all.

  The next morning, Lindsey took them into the forest. Connor hesitated, but when the rest of the group followed, so did he. He had saved her life, and after Brian, he had to think that someone who he’d saved wouldn’t turn against him, at least not immediately. He certainly wouldn’t have.

  She took them to a small clearing, a place that seemed man-made but wasn’t, perfectly sheltered by massive trees that had been there for hundreds of years. At the base of one of them was a small cross made of two sticks tied together. “I wanted you all to have a chance to say goodbye,” Lindsey said.

  Relief filled Connor’s heart when he realized what he was looking at. Blake’s body hadn’t been left unburied. She was right there, resting in peace, undisturbed in the woods that had protected them for so long. Drew deserved that much.

  So did Poe.

  Vera spoke first. “Baby girl, you’re with your daddy now. And Julian too. May you find comfort in the arms of God and those you love the most. We will miss you forever and love you always.”

  Drew was next to say goodbye. “I taught you how to ride a bike, now Julian can teach you how to fly.” He kissed two of his finger tips and placed them on the end of the cross. “I love you forever.” He seemed composed, putting his arm around Vera, and mouthed a thank-you to Lindsey. Connor suspected it was only his love for Vera that kept him standing, and if he didn’t have her to be tough for he would have lied down right beside Blake, letting the rain gently mist down upon them both.

  Poe knelt in front of the cross, not caring about getting her jeans dirty. “Thank you. You know what for.” Connor wondered what she meant by that, but even without saying, he understood it was none of his business. A part of him felt left out. He and Poe shared everything. But maybe there were things about her that he wasn’t meant to know, or never could. And maybe that was okay, because as she got up, she stood tall and strong. He hoped he had contributed to that strength, but was suspicious that she had possessed it from the moment she was born, and he had just been lucky enough to call her his.

  Finally, Jackson came up, and Connor felt himself break apart watching the young boy do what no child should ever have to. He had a yellow flower in his hand that he had picked as they walked. Gently, he placed it at the base of the cross. “This is for you, Mommy. You’re my best friend. I love you. I hope the angels give you lots of hugs.” Vera embraced him and told him he did very well, but as she hugged him tight, Connor could see it was all she could do to keep from crumbling. She held him for a long time, crying behind his back, only releasing him when she was sure she could remain steady. As she let him go, Kate came over and took Vera in her arms, giving Drew the chance to comfort the boy as much as he could.

  He sucked in a breath when he realized he was crying too. He hadn’t expected it. Yes, he would admit that he ached for the pain Jackson was going through, but it felt deeper than that…as if part of the loss was his as well. Perhaps he was crying for what Poe and Drew had lost too. Or maybe he was crying knowing that
because of him, it could have very easily been Gabriel, Poe, or Harper in that hole, everything they had ever done and loved reduced to a cross made of sticks and twine.

  Connor didn’t believe in an afterlife. Of course he wanted to, especially since he was so close to his own after. He looked for it inside himself, that belief. But where it should have been, that place that rested beside love and hope, there was just a hole, like a shelf that someone had taken a book from, leaving a gap in its absence. He hoped before the day came he could find it, but doubted very much that it would appear in time.

  ***

  Several weeks later, before he locked up for the night, he saw that Kate had left the bunker. He followed her outside and found her staring up at the stars. He reached over to put his arm around her, but she pulled away. “What’s wrong?” Kate had seemed distant. After she had figured out he was okay after the fire, she had started pulling away from him. He could feel it, like a piece of paper being torn apart, the ripping sensation between himself and his wife. He stared at the vacant, empty expression on her face and waited for an answer.

  “We could have stopped this. I could have stopped you.” She looked at him. “A girl is dead because of us. And Vera…oh Vera.”

  Kate couldn’t mention what Vera had done for her. Vera’s injuries were extensive, and he wasn’t sure she would ever completely recover. She seemed to have a slight limp after what Justin had done to her, and she had said one of her eyes had become a bit blurry.

  Connor noticed the devotion Kate had to the other woman during those weeks as they learned to live in the bunker: caring for her, keeping ice packs on her swollen cheeks like they were old friends. But Kate still couldn’t manage to look her in the eye.

  He felt as if a knife had been driven through his gut, and wondered if his heart had decided to give out right then. The way he hurt, he wouldn’t have been surprised. “I didn’t shoot her. They did. You can’t possibly blame me.” Even as he said the words, he knew they weren’t true. The person whose opinion of him mattered the most was now looking at him as a stranger looks at a wanted poster, disgust emanating from every inch of her. He thought to himself, for every single desire on earth, especially revenge, there is a price to be paid. And every inch of him knew that his bill had come due.

  Angry tears formed in her eyes. He’d never seen them before, not toward him, and the sight made him ill. The face of the woman who had tended the cuts on his arms after a hard day’s work and put his vitamins out on the counter so he wouldn’t forget to take them was gone. The tender hands that used to brush his cheek were now rigid and tense. And the eyes that were always filled with love no matter what he’d done echoed a woman who had reached her limit, now empty and cold.

  “You set this whole mess in motion. It was you. You just wanted to hurt people. I understood when they all got here, I really did, but you turned into this knotted up, twisted form of the person I married. Now I see the truth. You cut us off from everyone we knew because of a few people in town. And God, before we leave, what do you do? You create a massive spectacle out of our last trip to the doctor’s office when all I wanted to do was get it over with.” She paused, and while he opened his mouth to speak, he thought the better of it and closed it again.

  “All those people…staring at us—knowing about the most painful experience I’ve ever gone through. You can’t blame them for that. It was all you.” Her breath was labored, as if her anger was cutting off her oxygen. “We spent ten years here, in total isolation, and for what? You never even attempted to defend yourself, or us. You just brushed it off as you didn’t want to dignify their accusations with a response.” He saw that she was shaking. “You just kept quiet. There was no reason it should have gone as far as it did. If you had just said something, or let me say something…” She stopped and shook her head.

  “No, I can’t blame you for my own silence. I’m a grown woman. I could have saved us as easily as you and I didn’t. I hid behind you like a scared little coward and let you use my grief over our daughter to cut us off from every neighbor, every friend…anyone! We could have moved for God’s sake! We weren’t pinned down. You just wanted what you wanted. It didn’t matter who got hurt, did it? You claim everything you do is for us, but really it’s been all about you this whole time. Just you.”

  Connor’s face grew flushed. “You’re really going to choose them over me? Really?”

  “She was a mother!” Kate yelled. As she turned away from him, she said again, this time in a whisper, “she was a mother.”

  That was it. He’d done it. He had asked too much of her for too long. A woman who had stood by him through everything had finally had enough. The thought made him tremble. She was his everything. She was where he started and where he ended. And now she hated him as much if not more as anyone who had ever done them wrong.

  Memories flooded his mind: their wedding, walking in the meadow that swept along the road into town, late night talks that could only happen after their children went to sleep. It all seemed gone now. But maybe, just maybe, he could win her back.

  If only there were still time.

  But he knew there wasn’t.

  After Kate marched back to the bunker, Connor thought about going inside, but the idea of it made him feel crazy. The air inside felt suffocating already, before the argument, but now it would be like the atmosphere had given life to Kate’s hostility and it was climbing into his lungs.

  So instead, he walked into the woods and into the quiet of the night air. He pulled out his ham radio and called out for Gordon, the only person he felt like speaking to. To his relief, he picked up. The question he was about to ask had been weighing heavily on his mind, because it was both wonderful and a tragedy at the same time. “Hello, Gordon!”

  “Connor! Great to hear from you!” His voice had hope permeating through it, but the sound made Connor sick. He wasn’t sure what he was feeling, but it certainly wasn’t hope.

  “How’s the vaccine coming along? Any time frame?”

  “Not sure, Connor, but when I know more I’ll call you, I promise.”

  “Fantastic, Gordon. Thanks again.” He clicked it off.

  In his urgency to speak to Gordon, he hadn’t heard the footsteps behind him. “How long have you known?” He turned around to see Drew with an expression somewhere between horror and elation on his face.

  “Two weeks.”

  He expected Drew to scream at him, maybe even hit him, run away and tell the others immediately. He thought for sure Drew would tell him that Blake wouldn’t want them to stay trapped in that place. Drew was supposed to tell them that if she were here, she would have had a right to take her child out of the madness that the compound had become, or at least to know that was an option. But he didn’t. Instead, he sat down next to him and rested his arms on his knees.

  “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  Connor stared out into the maze of trees. “I can keep them safe here. Here, I’m in my domain. I’m not the butt of anyone’s jokes. I’m not some dark misfit in people’s stories. Here, I’m king.” He took a deep breath. “Here, they’re safe. Nothing bad can happen to them as long as they’re here.” Even as he said the words, he knew he didn’t believe them anymore. Maybe Kate was right. Maybe it had never been about keeping them safe, but keeping them there.

  “Well, that seems pretty far from the truth at this point, doesn’t it?” Surprisingly enough, Drew and Connor looked at each other.

  And laughed the dark laugh reserved for people who had been through too much.

  After a silence usually reserved for lifelong friends, Drew said, “Just tell them there’s a cure. That’s all. The rest can stay between us.”

  Connor looked at him. “Why would you do that for me?”

  Drew sighed. “Because we don’t know anything about it yet. There’s no reason to give them false hope, just the facts. Present it as just that. Keep it mathematical, not emotional. We need to know what we’re dealing with befo
re they get too excited.” He paused. “And because I know what it’s like to make a mistake that you have to carry with you for the rest of your life. Because buried under that revenge fantasy you’re just a scared little boy afraid of losing everyone he loves.”

  For some reason, Connor didn’t feel insulted. Instead, he just said, “I didn’t know you were that. Not that.”

  “What?”

  “Kind.”

  They started to head back toward the bunker, when Drew stopped. Connor didn’t realize until Drew spoke the words he said next that he had needed to hear them, desperately in fact. “And I don’t blame you for Blake. Really. If you hadn’t fired, I may have. You were just faster. We all thought it was a gun. I know I did.”

  Connor had wanted to keep believing the other group had fired first. Even after they found evidence of the explosion in the garage, he’d still attempted to convince himself that he hadn’t made a mistake, that it wasn’t his weapon that had sent them sailing into disaster. But the facts kept biting at him, nibbling at the back of his mind like an infestation, taking a bit more of him day by day. And he now knew that at the funeral, the pain he was feeling wasn’t just for Jackson, but for himself, thinking that he was the one who had caused it.

  It could have been Kate who was shot, or Harper. It just happened to be Blake instead, and because of it, a good boy was made an orphan, and some would say, a mother was made an angel. She was just standing in the wrong place at the wrong time, where his people happened to be standing in the right ones. An odd thought to realize that their lives were saved by something so trivial. After everything he had done, particular pieces of earth had protected them when he could not. And another had sent Blake to her grave. To have Drew absolve him from responsibility made the needling start to fade, and that was something for which he couldn’t thank him enough.

  ***

  Two days later, Connor busied himself taking inventory of their supplies. He looked over at Poe. She had been distant from him, same as her mother, but she didn’t seem angry. She of course made sure he was all right after he had escaped their burning house, but after that, she had stayed glued to Lindsey and Darius. As she suddenly stood up and placed herself in the middle of the bunker, her head barely not brushing the ceiling, he had a feeling he was about to find out why.