by Tarah Benner
“This is ridiculous,” said Portia as they inched up a particularly nasty hill. Bernie was once again massaging her swollen ankles and talking softly to the baby.
“I know,” said Lark emphatically, not bothering to hide her eye roll.
To her relief, Axel had insisted on driving the truck, which meant that Lark got a break from his disgusting jokes and noxious farts. He’d switched places with Soren in the Subaru, but even his steady presence wasn’t enough to offset Lark’s mounting irritation.
“I’m still not sure why we waited so long to come here,” Portia sniffed from the back seat. “It’s not uncommon for babies to be born premature. What if I’d gone into early labor and we’d gotten stuck somewhere without a doctor?”
“You’re not due for another five and a half weeks,” said Lark through gritted teeth. “And not everything is about you.”
“Shh!” said Bernie, closing her eyes with an annoyingly Zen expression. “Guys . . . All this negativity is bad for the baby. Let’s think good thoughts. We’re almost there.”
Lark bit her tongue but continued to seethe. She and Portia had reached a weird understanding after the kidnapping, but the woman still grated on Lark’s nerves. Pregnant Portia was even more annoying than San Judas Portia at times, and it took all of Lark’s self-control not to smack her upside the head.
But as they drew closer to New Vail, even Lark had to admit that it was looking more like winter than any of them had anticipated. The mountains were covered in a thick blanket of snow, and Lark got a pang of envy when she imagined what a blast everyone in New Vail must be having on the tourist-free slopes.
They followed signs for Vail along the road and exited the highway. The truck slid as it turned and wavered on the shoulder, but then Axel straightened the wheel and blazed on through the snow.
The city of Vail was completely deserted. They passed an abandoned coffee shop, a handful of restaurants, and a dozen dark condominiums.
An eerie chill crept down Lark’s spine. The resort had probably been packed with tourists just three years before, but now it was just another tract of inhospitable land.
They turned onto another road, and the cluster of condos on the outskirts of town gave way to an entire village of vacant buildings. Parking lots the size of soccer fields were empty, ski lifts stood motionless, and the slopes looked completely untouched.
The Christmas-card bliss of the resort came into view, and Lark’s pulse quickened. She could see log cabin–inspired lodges stretching four stories tall and steep gables that had probably once been draped in twinkle lights. Tall stands of trees flanked the road on either side. Then, all of a sudden, Axel’s brake lights came on.
It seemed to happen in slow motion. Axel skidded toward the ditch, and Lark’s stomach lurched. The wheels kicked up a splatter of dirty snow, and the truck came to a grinding halt.
In front of them, Lark saw a tall chain-link fence shimmering in a delicate jacket of ice. They must have reached New Vail.
Lark looked around. She couldn’t see a single living soul, but she knew there were guards perched nearby. She waited, and Conrad got out of the truck and stepped toward the gate with his hands held high.
“Stop!” yelled a voice.
Conrad froze.
“Hello!” he called, his voice much friendlier than Lark would have managed. “Is that Vince?”
“Vince isn’t here,” yelled the voice.
Conrad paused. “Greg?”
There was another long pause, this time from the stranger. “No . . . Who’s this?”
“Colonel Conrad Kelly!” Conrad yelled. “I’ve returned with a few of my friends . . . We come bearing gifts!”
There was another long pause. Lark guessed that the man behind the gate was consulting with another guard, and she was beginning to think that Conrad’s offer might not be enough to persuade them.
A feeling of dread sank into her gut. Everyone there knew Conrad, but that wasn’t necessarily a good thing. From what she’d heard, Conrad had earned a reputation as an eccentric shut-in. He’d become a thorn in the side of the local government before withdrawing from the community altogether. He wasn’t exactly Mr. Popular.
“Hang on,” called the voice.
Conrad waited, shivering in the snow. None of them had dressed for the weather. They were wearing jeans and cotton sweatshirts, but the temperature had already plummeted into the teens.
They waited for what felt like hours before Lark heard a rusty creak. The chain-link gate began to move, and a layer of ice fell off and shattered.
A young man appeared behind the fence. He was tall and dorky with messy auburn curls and a soft baby face that made him look younger than his years. He was probably in his late teens or early twenties, but unlike them, he was dressed for the elements. He was wearing a heavy green ski jacket, a stocking cap, and a pair of thick waterproof gloves.
As the gate slid open, Axel pulled forward, and Lark followed him into a staging area in front of another gate. If Bernie hadn’t prepared her for this, she might have been intimidated. According to her, it was New Vail’s policy that all visitors surrender their weapons and consent to a full vehicle search.
Lark had already stowed a knife and a tiny snub-nosed revolver in her boot. She was sure that neither Bernie nor Conrad would approve, but she refused to be left defenseless.
Once both vehicles were securely inside the holding area, the baby-faced guard signaled that they should wait and pressed a button on his walkie-talkie to call for backup.
That struck Lark as strange. In Bernie’s story, the guards had immediately swarmed their vehicle. They’d been searched, given a map, and sent on their merry way. Something was off. She just didn’t know what.
“What’s the holdup?” Soren muttered, craning his neck to see what was going on.
“I don’t know,” said Lark. “Where is everyone?”
Soren shook his head. “I don’t know. But I don’t like this.”
“Me neither.”
Lark glanced behind her through the back window. The guard had shut the first gate, but it was only a flimsy chain-link fence. She contemplated throwing the vehicle into reverse and driving through the barricade, but they had already come so far, and Portia was heavily pregnant. They didn’t have anywhere else to go, and they needed to find a doctor.
Just then, Lark saw their guard returning with two men in heavy coats. One looked like a gigantic redheaded lumberjack, while the other matched the description Bernie had given them: midthirties, short black hair, and a thick curly black beard. To Lark’s dismay, this man looked cold, tired, and impatient. He didn’t seem happy to see them.
Lark moved to get out of the car, but Soren grabbed her leg to stop her. “Wait.”
“I know that guy,” said Bernie. “He met us last time.”
“Something isn’t right,” said Soren. “I have a bad feeling.”
“You’re just spooked from Alamogordo,” said Bernie. “It’s okay. We can trust him.”
Judging from the look on Soren’s face, he was not prepared to trust the man based on Bernie’s word alone, but her word was good enough for Lark. She got out of the Subaru, and so did Bernie. Simjay and Axel were already piling out of the truck, Axel looking around with an expression of intense distrust.
“Hey,” Bernie called, offering the man a friendly wave.
“What are you doing back here?” he called as soon as he was within earshot. “Is the colonel with you?”
“I’m right here, James,” said Conrad, looking slightly put out.
James, for his part, did not look excited to see Conrad either.
“This really isn’t a good time,” he said in a brisk voice. “You shouldn’t have come back.”
“This is my home,” said Conrad. “I would have thought my friends would be welcome here, too.”
“What’s goin’ on?” asked Axel suspiciously.
James glanced at Axel but did not answer.
�
�We came back because we wanted to help,” said Bernie. “We have some information and some seed —”
“I’m afraid we might be past the point of help,” said James shortly. He turned to his hulking redheaded companion. “Search them.”
Lark glanced at Bernie and Simjay, feeling more uneasy by the minute. Maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Maybe they’d been naïve to think that they would be welcomed by the people of New Vail.
“Is that really necessary, James?” asked Conrad in an irritated voice.
James hesitated, glancing from Axel to Soren and back to Conrad. “You’ll vouch for them?”
“Yes.”
“All right,” said James, though he didn’t sound happy about it. “I’ll take you in. You all look like you could use some warm clothes.” He cleared his throat. “That’s one thing we have plenty of around here.”
“Great,” said Soren, though he hadn’t dropped his guard. Lark could tell that he, like her, was picking up a bad vibe about New Vail.
“Why don’t we step into the lodge and talk, and then you can help yourselves.”
“Thanks,” said Lark, glancing over at Bernie.
Bernie was no longer looking at James as though he were an old friend. She too looked as though she had a bad feeling, which did nothing to set Lark’s mind at ease.
Bernie helped Portia out of the car, and they followed James through the second gate up a narrow winding road. A magnificent ski lodge was situated at the top of the hill. It had a large round enclosure out front that had once been an ice rink, but no one was skating, and the area was packed with snow.
The building itself looked as though it could accommodate thousands of tourists during peak season. It had a grand arched entryway and its own courtyard filled with shops, but as far as Lark could tell, the lodge was just as desolate as any of the ghost towns they had passed along the highway.
James led them through the doors into the main lobby. They passed the pro shop and the cafeteria and walked into a private lounge. A fire was blazing in a large stone hearth, and masculine leather armchairs were scattered around the room. Antler chandeliers hung from the ceiling, and the walls were filled with oil paintings depicting herds of elk and hunters in coonskin caps.
“Please, take a seat,” he said.
Bernie, Portia, and Simjay sat. Conrad perched on the edge of an armchair, looking extremely uncomfortable for someone who’d once called New Vail his home.
Ordinarily, Lark would have found the room inviting on a cold winter day, but under the circumstances, she couldn’t help but feel that being brought into the inner sanctum of New Vail wasn’t a good sign.
James shrugged out of his heavy coat and tossed it over the back of a chair. He collapsed in front of the fire, while Lark, Soren, and Axel remained standing.
“What’s going on?” asked Simjay, leaning forward to look at James. “Where is everyone?”
James didn’t answer right away. He was staring into the fire with the look of a man who’d just lost everything, and Lark’s sense of foreboding grew.
“They’re gone,” he said after a moment. “They’re all gone.”
21
Lark
“Gone?” Soren repeated, looking as though he couldn’t believe what he was hearing.
James nodded.
“All of them?” Simjay asked.
“Yes,” said James. “Well, most of them, anyway.”
“What? Why?” Bernie spluttered.
James sighed and reached under his chair, searching for something. He withdrew a bottle of bourbon, popped the cork, and took a deep soulful swig. Lark didn’t know much about bourbon, but the way James kept it hidden made her think that it was some top-shelf brand.
“About two weeks ago, I sent out a crew to make a run to Denver,” he explained. “We were running low on food and fuel, and one of our supply trucks was hijacked en route.”
Lark and Soren exchanged a look.
“What do you mean ‘hijacked’?” Lark asked.
“I mean they were waylaid by another vehicle . . . several other vehicles, in fact. They blocked the truck in, forced the drivers out at gunpoint, and stole all of our supplies. The timing could not have been worse. It was just before the first snow of the season, and when we sent out a second crew to try again, they couldn’t make it. The roads were impassable.”
“What happened to your men?” asked Simjay.
“The two who were gunned down nearly froze to death trying to make it back up the pass on foot. The second truck eventually made it back, but the damage was done. People started to panic.”
“About the hijacking?” Lark asked.
“Not just that. Our greenhouses were a failed experiment. We learned that we couldn’t feed a small city with what we were able to grow here. With food and fuel becoming more and more scarce, making runs to Denver has become progressively more dangerous. Instead of hunting for supplies, lots of people have turned to piracy . . . just waiting on the road for big shipments to come through. The world’s gone mad.”
“So people just left?” said Bernie, looking as though she wanted to give James a hug.
He nodded. “The council called an emergency meeting a week and a half ago. Most of the leaders wanted to stay, but some of them were shaken. They felt responsible for all these people, and they thought we were too isolated up here. I think they were afraid of a Donner Party situation if we got a really big snow, and that was enough for them to throw in the towel.”
“Can’t you guys just clear the highway?” asked Portia.
“We have a couple of snow plows, but we can’t clear ninety miles of road both ways with two plows. When it gets really bad, we have to wait until the snow melts or send out a few smaller vehicles with lifts and wenches that can make it. But even sending them takes fuel, and that is becoming more scarce by the week.”
“So that’s it?” said Simjay in disbelief. “You guys just gave up?”
“I didn’t,” said James. “Not at first. I was lobbying for us to stay. But when word got out that half the council was spooked, it caused a panic. We held a town meeting to reassure everyone. It did not go well. Anyone who still had fuel left in their vehicle got the hell out of here. Some of the old money in town bartered whatever they had to catch a ride down the mountain — weapons, jewelry, food . . . you name it.”
James trailed off, looking disgusted with the people he had dedicated his life to help. “If we’d pooled all the food people had been hoarding in their homes, nobody would have starved this year. We could have lived just on that all winter long — probably for two winters.” He gritted his teeth. “But greedy people are greedy to the core. People don’t change — their circumstances do. A disaster just makes them more of who they are.”
Lark glanced at Soren and knew what was on his mind. He was thinking of Walt and everything he’d done for them. As cynical as James sounded, she’d been out on the road long enough to know that his assessment was true. They’d encountered both the worst of humanity and the best and found there to be very little in between.
“How many of you are left?” Lark asked.
James shrugged. “Maybe two hundred out of five thousand.”
Lark raised her eyebrows. She could hardly believe it. According to Bernie, New Vail had been thriving when they’d visited over the summer. It was amazing how quickly the tides had turned.
“And do you . . . Are you planning on staying here?” Lark asked.
“Oh, yes,” said James. “We have enough food and fuel to get us through the winter. After that, we’ll try to find a way to make it through again.”
“This might sound harsh,” said Soren. “But why do you want to stay here so badly?”
James turned and stared at him with a slightly glazed expression. He looked drunk, but Lark took his expression to mean, “If you have to ask, then you’ll never understand.”
There was a long pause, and then he said, “I grew up here. My parents brought m
e here every winter to ski, and when I was older, I got a job working through the season. I love it up here. The snow, the mountains, the hustle of the winter, the quiet of the summer . . . I don’t want to leave.”
“What are you going to do for food next year?” Lark asked.
“We’ll probably try farming again. But growing food above eight thousand feet is an uphill battle. The atmosphere is thin. Water evaporates quickly. The soil is acidic and doesn’t have all the nutrients you’d find at lower elevations. Most of our crops failed this year.”
Lark glanced at Bernie, who looked as though she were about two seconds away from leaping out of her chair and giving James a big bear hug.
“We might be able to help with that,” said Lark.
James looked confused, so Lark told him about the ancient crop varieties that they had gotten from the seed bank and Walt’s hobby potato field. She left out the part about escaping from prison with GreenSeed’s patented crops, but she sensed that James knew there were some major gaps in her story.
Still, when she’d finished, James seemed excited and a little buzzed. He had a lot of questions, and by the time she’d answered them, Lark knew there was nothing they could have offered him that would have been better.
After their conversation, Conrad took the truck over to his house to check on the dogs while James showed them around New Vail. He pointed out the residences that were still occupied by holdouts and the shops they’d converted to other purposes.
There was a medical building, a food pantry, and even a trading post. Lark could tell by the way James talked that he hadn’t just stuck it out in New Vail because he loved the town; he was a true believer in his vision of self-sufficiency.
After the tour, he led them to one of the luxurious condominiums overlooking the main square. According to James, the condo had been listed for fifteen million dollars before the crash, but it was theirs for the duration of their stay.
Lark couldn’t believe it. It was probably the nicest house she had ever set foot in. The condo had a stone fireplace and a vaulted ceiling that rose at least fifteen feet into the loft above. One wall was made entirely of glass, and it had a massive balcony with unobstructed mountain views.
