Maria accepted it gently, caressing the multicolored bead-work. “It’s lovely.” Would she need to use it? And how? “Thank you.”
He brushed past her into his old room, emerging with a duffle-bag he’d brought home from the university. With a thump, he set it by the front door and dug in his pocket. “Can you drive? I’m not sure I am up for it right now.”
“Sure.” Maria took the keys from James’ hand and fingered the little laser pointer still attached to his key chain. She’d bought it for his big dumb dog, who apparently liked pouncing on a moving speck of light as much as any cat. “Where’s Dozer?”
James’ jaw tightened. “Got hit by a car. My cousin was drinking and dying.”
“Jesus, James,” Maria said. “That’s a horrible thing to say.” She wrapped her arms around him and squeezed.
After a moment of stiff hesitation, he hugged her back. “Hey, if you can’t join ‘em, make a joke about it. Could you take this out to my truck?” he asked, handing her the bag before she could say anything else. “And the baby-basket? I’ll grab some food and stuff and we can go.”
The little junker she’d borrowed had barely made it here from Eastern in La Grande; would it make it all the way to Portland? She was glad to swap it for James’ more sturdy truck.
By the time James came out lugging a heavy cooler, Maria had all the gear from her dorm room transferred into the idling truck. Seemed stupid to bring the posters and other junk, but she hadn’t wanted to leave it a mess.
Once on the road, Maria gripped the wheel tight. It had been a while since she’d driven James’ truck, but it felt good.
James spoke, “Father wasn’t sick.”
James’ voice startled Maria from her melancholy.
“But when mother and Raya died… He stopped eating. I wanted him to stay; I needed him.” His body shuddered, and he took a deep breath. “But I didn’t tell him. Not until it was too late. It was like he decided to die and then he did.”
“He loved you.”
“Not as much as he loved Mama and Karaya.” Only a hint of bitterness sounded through James’ sadness.
“I’m sorry.”
The silence resumed, each of them lost in their own worries.
The phone at her hip buzzed, startling her. It had been a week since her phone had done anything other than run out of power. She pulled it out. Missed call. When she pressed the callback icon, the out of service notice popped up.
“Who is it?” he mumbled.
“Damn. I must have had signal, but not any more. Missed a call from my dad.”
“Hand it to me,” James said, sitting up straight. “I’ll keep trying.”
CHAPTER TWO
“Flip the switch, Sam,” Brad’s gruff voice echoed in the darkness.
Samuel let the air out of his lungs and breathed. “Brad.” He flipped the switch. His friend Brad sat reclining in an armchair, his pistol pointed at Samuel. “Thank god it’s you.”
“Not sure you should be,” Brad said.
Brad’s once dark, now salt-and-peppered beard was several days past stubble. His crew cut had grown long enough to look shaggy. The gray at his temples had expanded and big bags hung under his eyes. He glared at Samuel. “I got your messages.”
“Why didn’t you—”
“Didn’t really want to talk.”
“Oh.” Sweat slipped down inside Samuel’s shirt despite the cold. He took in the state of affairs in the living room. A microwave dinner tray with the corn still in it sat on the coffee table. Where were Pam and the girls?
“I’m ready to talk now.” Brad gestured with the handgun. “Have a seat.”
“You mind putting that thing down, or at least releasing the hammer?” Samuel sat on the couch facing Brad.
“I do mind.” The handgun stayed fixed on Samuel. “How’s your wife? The kids?”
“They’re fine.” Samuel’s hands shook. He clasped them together. Had Brad gone off the deep end? “Yours?”
“Remember Y2K, Samuel?”
“What about it?” Samuel’s pulse pounded.
“Still got the bug-out-bag I gave you?”
Samuel laughed, nervous and hollow. “Yeah. But I never updated it, except to put in the water and MRE leftovers you gave me.” He glanced sideways into the kitchen. The table looked like the morning after a college party. There were liquor bottles, some on their sides, most empty, without caps or corks.
A raspy chuckle escaped Brad’s throat; the sound scared Samuel.
“I gave you those leftovers ten years ago. I hope you don’t have to eat them. I switched to freeze dried. Lasts longer.” He stopped laughing and stared at Samuel. “Wondered if you’d make it over.”
Samuel didn’t like the gleam in Brad’s eyes.
The pistol dropped, now aimed more toward Samuel’s gut. “You thought you could get my stuff. Didn’t you? All of it. Right here. A regular one-stop survival shopping spot.”
“Jesus, Brad. I came to see if you wanted to go with us. We’re heading to Quinault. The wilderness area up there should be pretty deserted.”
Brad’s head gestured upward. “Pam and the girls are upstairs.”
A chill ran through Samuel. He hadn’t heard a sound from upstairs. “Look, Brad. I’m not going to take your stuff.”
“Damn straight you’re not.” Brad’s bloodshot eyes narrowed.
A bead of sweat roll down Samuel’s face. “Brad. I thought—” He held his shaking hands up.
Brad pulled a flask from his pocket, spun the lid open and drained whatever was left down his throat. One eye never left Samuel as he tossed the flask onto the couch.
“Brad,” Samuel said, keeping his voice calm and soothing. He needed to get the hell out of here. He started to stand. “I should get back to Anna and the kids.”
“Stay there.” The handgun rose again, pointing at Samuel’s head. “Your family’s still alive?”
“Yeah, they are.” Samuel swallowed, his tongue thick in his dry mouth. “Brad. We’re friends. Way back. Twenty years. What do you want?”
“I want your life.” Brad stood, stepping forward, bearing down, the handgun inches from Samuel’s face. His eyes were red-rimmed. “She’s gone. They all are. They were so sick.”
“Brad—” Samuel leaned forward in his seat, reaching for his friend.
Brad’s face hardened again. “Stand up, Sam.”
Samuel stood, slowly. His hip vibrated and his phone began to sing Schubert’s Ave Maria.
“Answer it,” Brad growled, resting the barrel of the gun against Samuel’s chest.
Samuel pulled out the phone and slid the screen. “Ria? Where are you?” His chest constricted in relief and fear all at once.
“We’re driving through the thriving metropolis of Boring, Oregon, turning onto 212. Sorry, I didn’t answer your call. I was out on the rez.”
Samuel eyed Brad and thumbed the speakerphone icon. “Warm Springs?”
“Yeah. Looking for James.” The voice scratched out of the small speaker.
What does she see in him? “Did you find him?”
“Yeah. He’s here with me. You leaving Portland?”
“I hope so.” Samuel stared at Brad, begging the question with his eyes. “I’m at Uncle Brad’s house.”
“How is he?”
Brad glared at Samuel. “I’m fine, Ria,” he growled. “How you doin’?”
“Well, being pregnant at the end of the world isn’t all it’s cracked up to be, but at least I found my boyfriend alive.”
Samuel sank into the soft couch, again. A million thoughts spun through his head. Then he refocused on Brad and the gun.
Brad glanced away and spoke. “Ria.” His voice softened. “Can I finish up with your dad? I promise he’ll call you back in a few.”
“Sure. Thanks, Uncle Brad. Talk to you soon, Dad.”
Brad’s hand dug into his pocket and pulled out a ring of keys. “Here. Take ‘em.” He tossed the keys onto the carpet at Samu
el’s feet. “Suburban’s out in the alley. Trailer’s attached. Ready to go. I was going to take Pam and the girls– I wanted–” His jaw clenched.
Samuel scooped the keys up off the floor and stood to face his friend. “Come with us, Brad.”
Brad shook his head. “No. I can’t. Not now.” He shoved the pistol in the waist of his pants. He offered Samuel his hand and then jerked it back. “Go. Now. Before I change my mind.”
Samuel nodded. “We’re heading to Anna’s grandpa’s place. North Shore. Lake Quinault. Where we camped the summer before we all had kids? Join us if you change your mind.”
Brad turned away. “Take care of the kids.”
Samuel wanted to give him a hug or at least touch his shoulder, give him some comfort. But if the disease had struck this house—
Samuel crossed to the front door and opened it instead.
“Go with God,” Brad said softly behind him.
“Thanks. You, too.” Samuel didn’t turn back; he stepped outside and closed the door. Behind him, he heard the deadbolt slip into place.
He jogged down the steps and around the house. The Suburban and its full trailer were there as Brad had promised—all prepped for his family.
Samuel pushed the unlock button, and the lights flashed on inside the Suburban. He opened the icy door and stuck the keys in the ignition.
What about his truck? Was there anything he couldn’t do without? Samuel turned back around. A loud sound exploded inside the house. Terror gripped him. He forgot his truck, jumped in the SUV, fired up the engine, and shoved it in gear. The behemoth lurched forward.
A few minutes later his phone sang Ria’s song. Samuel answered it with a jab at the screen. “Yeah?” he panted.
“You okay, Dad?” Ria asked.
“Fine.”
“You still at Brad’s?”
“No.” Samuel swallowed, his jaw tight. He softened his tone. “Congratulations, Ria. To you and James.”
“Thanks, Dad.” She paused. “Didn’t want to tell you until I was sure. Not exactly the best timing, I guess.”
Samuel forced a smile. They say you can hear the smile. “Anytime is both the best and the worst time to have a baby. You’re coming with us, right?”
“If you’ll have us.” Maria’s voice was aloof, and he knew the “you” she meant was Anna.
Would the two of them ever get over their issues? “Of course. When are you due?”
“Mid-May. Where are we going?”
“North. Into the wilderness. Grandpa’s place at Quinault. When can you and James meet me at home? We need to leave as soon as possible.”
After they hung up, he coasted into the driveway and sat staring at his house. Anna was holding it together. Taking them to her grandfather’s place might make it worse. They’d buried their first baby, Jesse, there on the property.
He took a big breath and rehearsed what he was going to say. He had the good news of the gear and the big vehicle, but the worst news would not reach her ears. He’d take the true story of Brad’s last gift to his grave.
What Anna would consider the bad news was that Ria and James were both coming along. Samuel feared he’d have to pull the head of the family card. Anna respected it because it was what she’d grown up with. But he hated it—biblical master and all that. In his family, his father had publicly been the head, but as his grandmother said, his mom was the neck.
When he finally went inside, small arms grappled him. Noah wrapped around his knees and Abigail his waist. He scooped Noah up and buried his face in the boy’s soft stomach, giving it a belly-blow. Noah responded to the raspberry with a jiggling belly-laugh.
“Me, too, Daddy,” Abigail begged, sniffling.
Anna appeared at the door, her arms crossed over her pregnant belly. Her pulled-back hair made her look severe, but a hint of a smile teased across her face as Samuel placed the giggling Noah in her arms.
Samuel dropped to his knees and kissed the baby bump. He twisted to give Abigail a quick belly-blow and a rib-tickle for good measure. Her laughter ended in a cough. “How you doing, little one?”
“I’b fide,” Abi said, snorting snot back up her nose. “Ew. Snot.”
“Snot, snot, snot,” Noah chortled. Since he’d started talking, he’d been an echo of his sister.
Samuel glanced at Anna; her face mirrored his own worry.
“Well?” Anna wiped Abigail’s nose and slid the back of her hand across their adopted daughter’s brow, trying to be surreptitious about checking for a temperature.
“I’ve got supplies. Lots of them. Brad gave us his truck. It’s fully stocked. And a trailer, too.”
“What about Pam and—”
He cut her off, holding up his hand. He set Noah back on the ground. “Abigail, take your little brother and help him pick out five stuffed animals to bring.”
Abigail rolled her eyes. She knew when she was being excluded from big people talk. “Come on, Noah.”
They marched off hand in hand.
Samuel watched them totter down the hall, grateful and saddened.
“Pam and the kids are gone.” The good news about the supplies disappeared under the weight of the bad news. “Send up prayers.”
“But Brad can come with us?”
“I tried to get him to, but, he wouldn’t. Told me to take his stuff. For you and the kids. All the kids. Ria, too. He talked to her on the phone.” Samuel knew he was stretching the truth, but the intent of his words reflected Brad’s conflicted state of mind and his last request to take care of the kids.
Anna glared at him. “Your daughter—”
“Our daughter, dammit. She’s going to need you when she makes us grandparents.” Samuel watched the emotions cascade across his wife’s face. That part, he hadn’t intended to say yet, but it had to come out.
Anna stared. “Ria is pregnant?” It came out like an accusation.
Samuel caught her in a hug. “Yeah.” He let the smile he felt come out. “She and James are going to have a baby. We’re going to be grandparents.” Anna was rigid in his arms. “About five months after our baby.”
“God help us.” She softened into his embrace.
“He will, Anna.” He lifted her chin. “He has. This is a blessing.”
A slightly sad, apologetic smile graced her face. “I’m sorry,” Anna said. “I will be better for her. For them.”
“I know you will. They’ll be here in a bit. I need to crash if I’m going to drive all night-–”
“I can take a turn.”
“Thanks. I may take you up on that. Let me see how the truck and trailer handles.”
Samuel went to their room, slipped his jeans off, and climbed into bed, curling under the down comforter. On a normal night, with a need to sleep he’d read Accounting Today, but there was no point. He lay there on the only bed he’d ever bought new, knowing he would miss it when they got to Quinault. The beds at the old homestead were older than Anna. Thoughts of Brad returned. Was he lying in bed with Pam? What if that gunshot hadn’t been Brad? What if it had been Brad shooting Pam? Oh, God.
CHAPTER THREE
THE SLIVER OF MOON SHONE through the bedroom window, but Samuel still hadn’t slept when a car pull up outside.
Anna hollered, “Abigail, Noah. Your sister’s here.”
Good. Maybe this would all be fine. He got up and hurried downstairs—better to be there for the reunion. He found Anna in the kitchen as the little ones buzzed past.
“Sorry, Sam,” Anna said. “Hope I didn’t wake you.”
“Nah. I couldn’t sleep. Too much to do and too much to think about.”
The kiddos squealed at the front door as their big sister and her boyfriend came in.
“Abigirl and Noah!” Maria crowed happily.
When Anna saw Maria and James, the corner of her mouth tightened, but she turned it into a smile.
Maria’s face had a similar progression when she saw her step-mother. “Hi, Anna.” She knelt wrapping her sib
lings in her arms. James hung back in the doorway, eclipsing most of the street light.
“Ria and James,” Anna said, “I’m so glad you’re safe. Be right back.” She spun on her heel and headed down the hall.
Maria raised an eyebrow in Samuel’s direction.
Samuel shrugged. “Noah. Abi. Let them get inside.” He shooed the little ones back. “Glad Ria found you, James.”
James’ face broke into an embarrassed smile. “Thanks. I’m glad she found me, too.”
“Congratulations.” Sam offered his hand.
James wiped his hand on his pants and shook Samuel’s firmly. Then he retreated back to lean against the door.
Anna bustled from the back room carrying a nylon shopping bag overflowing with baby clothes. She dropped them on the floor by the kids and gave James a hug. “Welcome to the family, James.”
James’ eyes grew as he accepted the embrace. “Thanks.”
Anna pulled Maria into a hug, too. “Congratulations on the baby, Maria.” She motioned to the bag. “We can share these when the babies come. I might even have old maternity clothes to fit you.”
“Thanks, Anna.” Maria mechanically returned the hug. Well, Samuel couldn’t expect everything to be all better all at once.
“Ria, Ria.” The children crowded around.
“We’re going on a trip,” Abigail explained. “To Lake Kinwalt.”
Maria bit her lip so she didn’t laugh. “It’s Quinault, lil sis. I know. I’m going with you.”
“You are?”
“Yes, she is, honey,” Anna agreed. “And James, too.”
“Are you gonna ride with me?”
“No, Abigae-nae. I’m gonna ride with James. You ride with Dad and… Mom. But I’ll see you when we stop.”
“Let’s go.”
“You’re right, Abi.” Samuel patted her head. “We better get out of town. Okay. James, how reliable is your truck?”
“She’s great. My uncle owned it before me. He wouldn’t sell her because he knew how to work on her. Taught me. The body’s for shit, but—” His brown face darkened. “Sorry. I ain’t been around kids much recently. The truck looks like junk, but it’s solid and the engine and all the moving parts work well.”
Deserted Lands (Novel): Toils and Snares Page 2
