Sound of Survival (Book 3): Home Free
Page 17
With that, she flashed me a smile over her shoulder before disappearing into the house.
I stayed out on the porch for a while, watching the sunrise.
“Booze,” I said to no one in particular. “That’s what I need.”
I headed into the house and over to the bar near the kitchen. There, I laid my eyes on a bottle of bourbon—the good stuff, the stuff I saved for special occasions. I poured myself out a couple of fingers and took a sip, letting the booze linger and burn before bringing it down.
Damn, it was good. As I stood, my eyes drifted up to a picture of me and Sarah. It was a photo of when she was around five, the two of us at Joshua Tree Park, our first trip together, just me and her. I took the photo off the wall and, drink in hand, stepped back outside and sat down in one of the rocking chairs.
I wasn’t going to be able to find her, I knew it without a doubt. All I could do was hope and pray that whatever became of her, she’d be able to stay safe and make her way in the world to come.
I took another long sip, more pain running up my arm as I swallowed.
At least I managed to do a little good. Amy and her mother were safe inside, and as long as they played it smart, they’d be safe for the months to come.
I glanced down at the picture, my eyes lingering on Sarah’s face, her smile, as I slowly worked my way through the bourbon. Soon a pleasant buzz hit, and I felt…sleepy. Everything, all that I’d been through over the last few days seemed to catch up with me all at once.
My arms felt heavy. I let them drop to my sides, the picture falling face-up onto my lap and the glass onto the porch, not breaking but simply rolling away.
Then my eyelids felt heavy. Then everything else. A small smile formed on my lips as I realized I was, just like I’d thought, ready to let go.
So I did. I finally let myself rest.
And then there was a light, then nothing at all.
26 Amy
I wasn’t scared when I came out to see Ed on the porch. The moment I laid eyes on him in his chair, his arms draped down at his sides, the picture of him and his little girl on his lap, I knew that something had happened, that he wasn’t simply sleeping.
I didn’t scream, or cry, or drop to my knees and wail to the high heavens. I was sad, of course. Sadder than I thought I was capable of feeling after all the trauma of the days before. But when I’d stepped around to Ed and looked him over, I felt like…well, I’d felt like he was at peace.
It was corny, sure, but there was simply no other way to describe him. For the last few days he and I had been fighting for our lives, barely able to carve out a moment here or there just to catch our breath. Now, we were safe. Me and Mom had been reunited, and Ed had led us out of the dual hells of Dead Air and Sandy Vista to a true oasis in the desert.
And now it was time to lay him to rest.
“Baby,” said Mom. “Let me help.”
The sun was brilliant over the desert, though this time setting and not rising, as it had been doing when we’d first arrived.
“No,” I said as I heaved another shovelful of red dirt onto Ed’s grave. “Just like I said the million other times you asked, I’ve got this.”
“I just…I just hate standing here not doing anything,” she said. “After all, he saved my life just as much as he saved yours.”
“I know,” I said. “But this something I feel like I need to do on my own.”
Whether the answer satisfied Mom or not, I couldn’t tell. But she didn’t say anything else.
The air was cool and still, the only sound the soft crunch of the shovel into the dirt, followed by the rustle of me dumping it onto the mound.
The sun had dipped further towards the horizon by the time I was done. I jammed the shovel into the ground and leaned against it, resting my weight on the pointed-up handle.
Mom and I said nothing, both of us standing in the fading shadow of the Joshua tree.
“He knew,” I said.
“Knew what?” Mom asked.
“He knew that it was the end.”
“You think so?”
I gestured up towards the tall, looming tree. “He mentioned this. Told us where he wanted to be buried. I don’t know if he knew it was going to happen today, but he knew it was going to come soon. He’d been teaching me things—how to shoot, how to fight, how to find my way if I get lost. He wanted me to be ready to go on without him.”
Mom took a slow breath through her nose as she looked up at the tree.
“He was a good man,” she said. “I didn’t know him, but good like that you can spot the moment you see it. I just wish I could’ve gotten to know him better.”
“Me too,” I said. “I think you two would’ve been fast friends.”
Silence hung over us for several long moments. I had no idea what to say, what to do. Images from the last few days played in my mind, and I could hardly believe that it was over—at least for now. Ed’s ranch, his final gift to us, could very well prove to be the difference between life and death.
“Do you…do you have the picture?”
“Yes,” said Mom. “It’s right…give me a second.”
Mom went through the small bag of supplies we’d brought with us to both move Ed and bury him, the shovels and bottles of water and energy bars rustling around.
“Here,” she said, removing the framed photograph that I’d found on Ed’s lap, the one of him and his daughter.
She handed it over and I held it for a time, taking in the sight of him in happier times. It was hard to say exactly, but it appeared to have been taken about ten years ago, Ed fit and trim and smiling, his adorable daughter in his arms.
It was bittersweet, knowing that he’d passed without ever seeing her again. I knew now why he’d been so desperate to look out for me, to make sure that I arrived safely. Ed saw must’ve seen something in me that had reminded him of her. And he must’ve figured that if he couldn’t save her, he could save someone like her.
Tears welled in my eyes as I held the picture. After several long moments, I slowly dropped to my knees and set the picture down on his grave.
“I want to make a marker,” I said. “Something strong, something long-lasting. Something that will let whoever sees this grave that a hero is buried here.”
“I bet he’d like that,” said Mom.
I allowed myself a soft laugh. “No, he wouldn’t. He’d tell me to forget about it and focus on something more practical. But it’s what he deserves.”
More time passed, the sun dipping lower and lower, the stars beginning to twinkle above.
“Take your time, baby,” said Mom.
And she meant it. But I knew it was time to go. I got up to my feet, letting my eyes linger on the horizon.
“No,” I said. “That’s another thing—he wouldn’t want me wasting time mourning.” I turned around and met Mom’s eyes. “Let’s go.”
After one last look at the grave, I started towards the house. Mom and I walked in silence, the dry dirt crunch below our feet. When we stepped into the living room, the last rays of light were beaming through the small, cozy living room.
“It might not be the home you were used to,” I said. “But I think we can make it work.”
“Screw that place,” said Mom. “Never liked those jerks anyway. And besides, anyplace where I have you, that’s home.”
I smiled, wrapping my arm around Mom’s shoulders and pulling her in for a hug.
“Well,” I said. “We’ve got a lot of work ahead. We need to go through supplies, see what we have. Then after that we ought to head into town and get to know everyone.”
“And then there’s still the rest of the world,” said Mom. “It’s peaceful here now, but there are going to be millions of desperate people out there…we can only ignore them for so long.”
“Then we have to make ourselves ready,” I said. “I won’t let Ed’s sacrifice be in vain.”
He was gone, but I vowed to keep his memory in my heart. And as st
range as it sounded, I knew that somehow he was looking out for me.
At that moment I felt ready. Ready to train, ready to fight, ready for anything. Ed had taught me well, and more than that he’d spoken truly when he’d said that I was a survivor.
It was as simple as that. I was going to carry on, no matter what.
I was going to survive.
THE END
ALSO BY SEAN PATTEN:
LIGHTS OUT IN VEGAS
BOOK 1: ALL AT STAKE
BOOK 2: DOUBLE OR NOTHING
BOOK 3: FIGHTING CHANCE