by E S Richards
Vic took control, nodding to Blake, who moved over to Riley, gently trying to pull her away from the body. Chase allowed Vic to lead him into the kitchen, sitting him down at the table and facing away from the front room. Leo sat beside him, unsure whether he should say anything or just be there for his friend. There had to be something that he could say, but seeing the expression on Chase’s face, Leo couldn’t find the words to comfort him. They had all just watched the old man die, everything changing so suddenly and without warning.
“Come on, Riley,” Blake gently picked Riley up from Jerry’s body, easing her small and weak frame away as she gave up and sobbed profusely. “That’s it, girl. You’re okay.”
Riley let Blake carry her out of the front room—her senses all going numb as she cried, just like her brother’s had. She was dazed and disoriented, climbing on to Chase’s lap where he sat and wrapping her arms around his neck, her face buried in his shoulder. It was something she had done when she was much younger but hadn’t for many years. Now—to both Chase and Riley—it felt natural. Chase curled his arms around his younger sister and started methodically rocking her body as she cried, his own eyes vacant and glassy as he held her, unable to process what had just happened.
“What should we do?” Blake whispered to Vic as they both stood at the entrance to the front room, looking in at Linda who still stood in exactly the same place, staring at her dead husband on the floor.
“Leave her a moment,” Vic whispered back, pulling the door to the front room toward him so it was almost closed, granting the new widow some privacy. “There’s no comfort we can offer her now.”
Linda didn’t hear the two men talking. She couldn’t hear anything except the ringing in her ears. Jerry was dead. Her husband was dead. No matter how many different ways she repeated the sentence to herself, it still didn’t sound real. Even though she was literally staring at his body, Linda still couldn’t bring herself to accept the fact that he was gone. Jerry had left her and now, she was alone.
“My love,” she whispered, finally able to speak as her body freed up and she collapsed to her knees in front of her husband. “Jerry.” She picked up one of his hands in her own, his skin still slightly warm as she lifted it to her lips and kissed his fingers. “These hands. I can’t believe I’ll never get to hold these hands again.” She squeezed gently, smiling at how their skin molded together perfectly.
“Your touch,” she whispered, slowly laying his hand back down beside his body, inching up to his face on her knees. “Your smile. Your kiss.”
Jerry’s eyes were still open, staring blankly up at the ceiling in death. As Linda’s bottom lip quivered, she leaned over and closed them for him, making the old man look like he was merely sleeping. As much as he looked like it though, Linda knew it wasn’t real.
“Oh, Jerry,” she whimpered, sitting back on her heels and letting her head loll backwards and her eyes close. “What am I going to do without you?”
There Linda remained as the seconds turned to minutes and the minutes ticked by. Just out of sight in the kitchen, Chase held his younger sister as they too mourned the loss of their grandfather, an incredible man who hadn’t deserved to die. Everyone was silent and solemn. No one said a word as they all pictured Jerry in their memories, saying their own private goodbyes to a man who was too good for the what the world was turning into.
Chapter 11
“Ugh, man. Where are we?”
Mia looked over her shoulder quickly to see Jesse finally stirring, the painkillers she had administered to him before they all went to bed the night before finally wearing off. After finding a place to spend the night, the three of them had carried Jesse inside, Mia dosing him up on medication so he would sleep through the night relatively pain-free before she, Marcus, and Jadon all managed to get some shut-eye too. As it happened, she might have slightly overdosed him, getting slightly carried away due to his size and how much pain he had been in earlier. Now he was finally waking up again, his mind foggy from everything that had happened over the last twenty-four hours.
“Jesse!” Marcus cheered as his friend finally stirred in the back seat, having handed over the steering wheel to Mia about an hour ago. “How are you feeling, man?”
“Take it easy back there,” Mia commented from behind the wheel. “You’re coming off a lot of meds. You might want to take a couple of the smaller dosage ones now, just to ease yourself back into things slowly. Otherwise that pain is going to bounce back at you like, well…” Mia paused and chucked, “like a bullet.”
Jesse nodded groggily and did as he was told, accepting help from Marcus, who handed him a bottle of water with which to down the pills. Looking down at his shoulder, he saw it was completely bandaged up, the bullet hole hidden behind swaths of bloodied fabric.
“You okay?” Marcus repeated, concerned about his friend as he saw Jesse slowly trying to move his injured arm, wincing slightly as he did so.
“Yeah,” Jesse eventually answered. “It just feels,” he paused, “weird. It’s like I can’t feel it, but at the same time I can. It’s like an ache—is that what it’s supposed to feel like?”
“I’m not sure,” Mia replied, seeing Jesse looking at her in the rearview mirror. “I’ve never been shot myself, but so long as you’re not in too much pain I’d say that’s a good thing. We’ll change the bandages again when we stop and I’ll have another look at it. The wound was clean. I think you’ll make a full recovery.”
Jesse smiled, grateful for the news he received. “Thanks, Mia. That was insane back there; what happened after I got shot?”
Mia allowed Marcus to explain everything that had ensued at the border crossing, turning her focus back to the road ahead of her and pressing her foot down on the gas pedal. They were incredibly close to her parents’ farmhouse now. She recognized the surroundings, having just passed a nearby hardware store where her father used to go and get odds and ends for fixing up the house. It was completely ransacked, the windows smashed in and the parking lot covered in trash. Mia knew there was zero point stopping there to look for supplies.
“No way,” Jesse piped up from the back, Marcus reaching the end of his brief summary. “Are we close now? How much farther is it?”
“About an hour,” Mia replied with a smile on her face. “We’ve been lucky with the roads this morning. Shouldn’t be long now.” She didn’t look back at the boys behind her as she spoke, the smile on Mia’s face giving away exactly how she felt. She was excited. For a woman her age, she didn’t often feel like this, but driving along the final stretch of road before her house made her feel like a child again, waiting for something big to happen. Her spirits were high, and she was forcing herself to believe that she would find everything in good condition, her parents and her adopted children sitting happily around the kitchen table or playing games upstairs in the den. Those were the thoughts she entertained as she continued to drive, focusing on happy memories and making herself picture a good future in her head.
It wasn’t long before that picture started to become a reality.
“Oh, wow…”
“What?” Jadon asked, looking over at Mia and then peering out of the windscreen ahead of them. “Is that it?”
Mia nodded. Ahead of them, at the end of the dirt road she had taken just over a mile back, was the house she’d grown up in. The farmhouse looked a lot worse than she remembered, the roof having visibly collapsed at one part and the exterior looking battered and beaten by the wind and weather. She gripped the steering wheel tighter as she drove toward it, her mouth filling with saliva and forcing her to swallow as a mixture of anticipation and nerves filled her stomach. There was a light on in one of the downstairs windows so she could tell that someone was home, but for some reason that didn’t make Mia feel any better. The excitement was gone and all of a sudden, she felt an overwhelming urge to just stop the car and put off her return a little longer. What if everything wasn’t as she imagined it? What if everything had changed?
“He
y,” Jadon smiled at her from the passenger seat, touching her arm gently and distracting Mia from her thoughts. “Are you okay?”
“Mmhmm,” Mia replied absentmindedly, glancing over at Jadon and flashing him the fakest smile he’d ever seen.
“It’ll be okay, Mia. You don’t need to worry.”
“You sure about that?” Mia answered slowly, narrowing her eyes as she saw the unfamiliar P. J. Wilson Construction truck parked up along the side of the farmhouse, pulling the Jeep to a halt between it and the barn. “Something doesn’t feel right.”
“It’ll be fine,” Jadon tried to reassure her, seeing how Mia’s hand shook as she turned the engine off. “Trust me.”
Pursing her lips, Mia forced out a nod. She was grateful to be back home, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that something bad had happened, that there was something big she had missed. Inhaling deeply, she knew there was nothing for it but to go inside and find out for herself. She’d been traveling for weeks to get to this moment. All that was left was for her to seize it and find out the truth.
“Are we all going in? Or do you want to do it alone?”
Marcus’s question hung in the air, Mia uncertain how to respond at first. Eventually she pulled her gaze away from the familiar plot of land and looked at the three boys instead. They had stuck by her side since the very first day, helping her through moments when she didn’t think success was possible. She wanted them by her side when she opened the door to the farmhouse again. She needed them there.
“Let’s go together,” she replied with a smile. “Pass me one of those filtration masks.”
It only took a few seconds for the four of them to be ready, even Jesse gritting his teeth and moving without complaint as they exited the vehicle, Mia leading the small group to the front door. The fact that no one had come out to greet them spoke volumes to her, but Mia didn’t have the energy to guess why. She didn’t want to come up with any more theories or possibilities, she just needed to walk in and see what was going on for herself. Putting her hand on the door handle, she twisted it and attempted to walk inside, finding the door locked. Frowning, she lifted her hand, knocking and waiting like a visitor instead.
“Who is it?” a male voice sounded out through the door a moment later, a voice that she didn’t recognize. “Who’s there?”
“Who are you?” Mia barked back immediately, quickly on the defensive as she had been expecting to hear one of her parents’ voices. “This is my house. What are you doing in there?”
A fumbling sound resonated from inside the farmhouse, a few things being moved around and scraping along the floor. No one replied though, which made Mia feel uncomfortable. Remembering the weapons they had in the Jeep, she quickly wished they’d thought to bring one with them. Standing outside in the cold, Mia started to feel very vulnerable.
“Hello?” a different voice called out from inside now, a softer, more familiar voice that made Mia go weak in the knees. “Who’s there?”
“Chase!” Mia blurted out his name like a desperate plea, his voice filling her with such sudden emotion. “It’s me. It’s Mia. Let me in.”
“Mia!” The fumbling on the other side of the door became exaggerated, the sound of someone struggling to quickly move things out of the way and get the door open carrying outside as Mia waited in the cold to see her adopted son again. She was already over the moon to hear his voice again and to know that he was still safe at the farmhouse. Seeing him was almost too much for her.
But as the door pulled open and Chase’s face was revealed, Mia felt like she might explode. Throwing her arms around the teenage boy, she buried her face in his shoulder, holding him tight and squeezing until there was no breath left in either of them. He felt like home. He felt like happiness.
“Jeez, Mia,” Chase breathed, barely able to process that his aunt was back home. “Where have you come from? How did you get here?”
Mia didn’t know where to start. Jadon and Marcus quickly followed her inside, Jesse supported between them as the injured boy was still weak and woozy from the medication he was on. Looking past Chase, Mia noticed two older men—closer to her in age—standing at the back of the room. She analyzed them quizzically, curious how they ended up in her house.
“Where’s Riley?” Mia asked, ignoring Chase’s concerns and questions about her. “And Mom and Dad?”
Chase bit his lip. He paused just long enough for Mia to know something was wrong. She knew this boy better than he knew himself sometimes, and Chase Clarke had a very obvious tell. He didn’t make eye contact with her, faltering just for a second but still enough to give the game away.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?”
“Mia,” Chase started, no idea how to tell his aunt that her father had died. He looked up at her with big, apologetic eyes and tried to convey what had happened without words. He just couldn’t bring himself to explain it. He didn’t know what to say.
“Mia? Is that really you?”
Turning around, Mia faced the direction of the new voice, seeing her mother standing in the doorway, looking upon her like a ghost. Much like how Mia had reacted when she first saw Chase, Linda was now in awe of the sight before her, struggling to believe that her daughter had found her way home.
“Mom!”
The embrace between the two of them was blissful. Mia felt like she was fifteen again, wrapping her arms around her mom when something went wrong and absorbing the older woman’s strength, love, and power. She held her mom firmly now, knowing that she couldn’t be a child. She had come back home to help her family and she was determined to see that through.
“What’s wrong?” Mia whispered as her mother pulled away from her, silent tears rolling down her wrinkled cheeks. “Mom, what’s happened? Please. You’re scaring me.”
“Oh, Mia,” Linda sniffed, her voice barely audible as she confessed the truth to her last remaining child. “It’s your dad. He didn’t make it.”
Mia stared at her mother with wide eyes, hearing her words yet not quite believing them. “What?” She asked, shaking her head. “What do you mean?”
“He’s dead, Mia,” Linda replied, the words physically causing her pain. “Jerry is dead.”
Now Mia believed them. She didn’t know how to react, wishing the floorboards would swallow her and everything would disappear, allowing her to wake up and discover that this was nothing more than a horrible nightmare. But she wasn’t going anywhere. This was real. Her father was dead.
As her bottom lip started to quiver and her eyes grew wet, Mia managed to utter one more word. “When?”
“Yesterday,” Linda replied after a moment. “He held on as long as he could, darling. He knew you’d make it home eventually.”
Mia felt like she had been punched in the throat. Yesterday. If she had been just one day earlier then she would have found her father still alive. She might have been able to make a difference; she might have been able to help save him. But she was too late. After everything she had gone through—everything she had done—she was still too late. It was heartbreaking and Mia didn’t know how to react. Despite everything she had done to return home, now that she was there, she felt like she had failed.
Chapter 12
Standing outside in the falling snow, with Riley and Chase on either side of her, Mia wished they could’ve been reunited under better circumstances. She couldn’t tear her eyes away from the hole in the ground they had spent the last three hours digging, the frozen ground proving a challenge to all of them, everyone agreeing that the hole needed to be dug nonetheless. The grave needed to be dug.
Jerry Clarke deserved a proper burial. His family stood and watched as Blake, Vic, Leo, Marcus, Jadon, and Jesse worked together to carry his body out of the farmhouse in a respectful and gentle manner, marching the body bag made crudely out of blankets and an old shower curtain over to the freshly dug grave and lowering it inside. The process was over quickly, but that didn’t make it any less painful as the man o
f the house was laid to rest just a few feet from the front door. He had loved the farmhouse; it was at least poetically justified that he would be with it forevermore.
With Jerry’s body out of sight, Mia knew that now was the time for someone to say a few words about her father. Looking over at her mom, Mia could see right away that Linda wasn’t able to talk. Tears slid silently down her cheeks as she stared into the grave, the woman broken in two over the loss of her husband. Clearing her throat quietly, Mia stepped forward slightly. Words needed to be said, and they needed to be said quickly. Not only was it incredibly heartbreaking being outside for the funeral, the temperature was also dangerously low, and Mia didn’t want to put her mother, Riley, or anyone else in any danger of getting sick.
“Dad didn’t deserve to die like this,” Mia began, drawing everyone’s attention in her direction as her words cut through the icy, silent atmosphere. “He was a proud man, and a successful one too. He loved his family with all his might, and he did everything within his power to make life easier for those around him. He will be sorely missed.”
Pausing in her eulogy, Mia realized she didn’t know what she wanted to say next. Nothing seemed adequate all of a sudden, the volcanologist never having a special way with words and worrying that she might say the wrong thing. Feeling a strong hand on her shoulder, she turned to her right and saw Chase giving her an encouraging smile. He squeezed it and nodded very slightly, showing his maturity and understanding even in this incredibly difficult time.
Mia smiled back at her adopted son and opened her mouth to speak again, his support giving her the will to carry on. “I wasn’t there at the end, but if I had been, I know what he would’ve wanted to say. Mom,” Mia paused, waiting for her mother to look up from the ground and make eye contact with her. “You were the light of his life. He loved you more than anything I’ve ever seen before and you meant absolutely everything to him. I know he would’ve hated to leave you, but I know he would’ve died believing that you were strong enough to take care of yourself. You’re more than just his wife, Mom. You’re a mother and a grandmother, and a fantastic one at that. We’ll miss Dad every day, but I know that we can keep on living—keep on surviving—because we still have you with us. Together, we can get through this.”
