by K. M. Fawkes
“How did you get here?” Anna whispered.
“A lady in a truck came through the town later,” Martha explained. “She said that she would look after me until my mom and dad came back, so I went where she was going.” Martha’s face twisted for a moment and she picked up her mug again, once more holding it in that white-knuckle grip. Her hands were shaking now.
“Where did she take you?” Brad prompted when she didn’t go on.
“It’s…they’re a different kind of family,” Martha said, her voice dropping back to that low murmur that she’d used when they met. “They…do things differently.”
Brad’s stomach twisted at her words. He really didn’t want to press this any further, but he didn't have a choice.
“What do they do?” he asked.
“No one owns anything,” Martha said, her intonation switching from normal speech to a chant-like cadence that had Anna shooting a worried glance over Martha’s head at Brad. “Family always shares. Family always works. Family always fights for each other. Family always finds you.”
Anna swallowed hard. “What do you mean by that, Martha? Family always finds you?”
“That’s what they say,” Martha said. “They say it every day.”
“What else do they do?” Brad pressed. “Besides this…mantra?”
“They call it a prayer,” the girl said. “After prayers, we have to train.”
“For what?” Anna asked.
“To go against the heathens,” Martha said. “They train us to fight. But I don’t like to,” she went on. “I don’t like hurting people. Especially the other kids. And I didn’t like sharing my bed with them, either.”
Anna’s face had gone pale. “Sharing your bed?” she questioned.
Martha nodded. “There aren’t many rooms in the main house. Some other kids came in after I did and I had to share my bed with them. There were three of them and it was too crowded.”
In spite of the horror of everything else they’d been told, both Anna and Brad let out their breath at hearing that explanation. He’d been afraid it would be much worse.
“Anna noticed the brand on your shoulder,” Brad said, cutting to the chase. “Can you tell me about that?”
Martha touched it gingerly, her lips pressing together at the memory of what had certainly been agony. “It happened after the lights in the sky,” she said. “When everything went dark all of a sudden. They said that was when the new world came. They gathered us all up and said that they had a present for us.”
“And then they branded you?” Brad asked, swallowing hard to fight back the wave of nausea that rose in his throat. “They did the same thing to everyone?”
She nodded. “They lined us up, oldest to youngest.”
“But why?” Anna asked, and Brad could see that she had gone even paler, if that was even possible. “Why would they need to do that?”
Martha shrugged. “They said it was so that we’d always know we were family. We’d know who we were and where we belonged, and we’d be able to secure our places in the new world.”
“You mentioned that before,” Anna said. “What do you mean by the new world?”
“I don’t know,” Martha answered. “That’s just what they called it after the lights went out. They said it had finally started.”
“Then, according to them, the new world started right after the EMP,” Brad said. “Is that what you mean by everything going dark?”
Martha gave him a confused look. “EMP?”
“Did the power go out?” Brad asked. Not every kid had been raised part-time by a paranoid survivalist, after all. “Did they give you the brand after the power went out?”
Martha nodded. “Yeah, the next day. When they were sure that it wasn’t coming back on.”
“The lights in the sky were produced by an EMP,” Brad explained. There was no sense in letting delusions fester. The better a handle the kid had on what had actually happened that night, the better, as far as he was concerned. “EMP stands for electromagnetic pulse. It’s why things like lights and cellphones don’t work anymore.”
“They said it was a prophecy fulfilled,” Martha said, but she didn’t sound as if she was trying to contradict him. “They said it was what they’d been waiting for all along.”
“Do you know how long they’d been waiting for this?” Brad asked. Were these people that had been driven crazy by the chaos around them, or was this some kind of doomsday cult? Of the two, he’d prefer the first option because at least they wouldn’t have been around as long. They’d be a bit less prepared. But if they had chants and brands, that was probably not the case.
“They didn’t say,” Martha said. “They just said they’d been waiting a long time.”
“How did you get away?” Anna asked.
“They made us all go out on raids. We had to clear out all of the houses, one by one. They didn’t want to leave anything that the heathens could use. So, we took everything.”
“Is that why there wasn’t any furniture in some of the houses?” Brad asked.
She nodded. “Yeah. They used some of the furniture, but they burned a lot of it.”
“And they made you break the glass in all the windows so no one could stay in the houses for shelter,” Brad realized.
Martha nodded again. “They talked about burning down the houses, but they decided not to. They think that they can still use pieces of them. The boards and things. Anyway,” she said, getting back to the question Anna had asked. “I didn’t like the raids. Or the training. And I didn’t want to be with them anymore. So, on one of the raids, I hid.”
Brad forced an encouraging smile. “You’re really good at that, it seems.”
Martha nodded, a slight smile crossing her face as well. “Daddy was good at it, too. I hid and they left when they couldn’t find me. We get into a lot of trouble if we’re late coming back, so they couldn’t look for long.” She shrugged. “I don’t know. I thought that if I stayed there long enough, Daddy and Mom might find me. But you came, instead.”
She leaned back, drawing her knees to her chest and wrapping her arms around them, looking absolutely drained. “Can I go to bed now?”
“Of course,” Anna said.
“Thank you for talking to us, Martha,” Brad said. “Don’t worry about your mug,” he went on when she reached down to take it into the kitchen—now he better understood why she was always so conscientious of her chores. “I’ll get it for you. You just go up and get some sleep.”
She nodded and walked up the stairs. Anna and Brad stared at each other tensely, waiting to hear the bedroom door close behind her. He knew that he must have looked just as horrified as she did. He couldn’t even begin to process everything he’d just heard.
“My God,” Anna whispered when they heard the soft click a few moments later. “Brad…”
He stood up quickly and decisively. He knew of at least one thing that might help. “Hold on. I think we both need a drink.”
“That sounds like a great idea,” Anna agreed, following him into the kitchen and holding out two glasses for him to pour a generous splash of liquor into.
They walked back into the living room and dropped into their chairs again. Brad took a slug of Scotch to try to shock his brain into action. Then, he put his glass down and pushed both hands through his hair.
Anna sipped her own Scotch, letting silence fall between them for a few moments. Then, she said, “Okay, so what is this? Some kind of cult?”
Brad nodded. “Sure sounds like it,” he said, reaching for his glass again. After another, smaller sip, he went on. “And it sounds to me like they’ve been waiting for this for a long time.”
He had hoped to find a way to talk himself out of that conclusion, but he couldn’t. Like it or not, it was the only thing that made sense based on Martha’s story. Prayers and training and specialized brands…that kind of crazy didn’t just happen overnight.
“How could they possibly have known the EMP was c
oming?” Anna demanded. “No one knew about it!”
He shook his head. “They probably didn’t know. At least, not exactly.”
“Then why…” she trailed off, looking frightened and overwhelmed.
“Cults aren’t known for their logic,” he said. “I think that this particular group just got lucky. They thought something from above would wipe out our way of life, and it did. Nutjobs have been thinking that for years.”
“Sure, but…” Anna trailed off again, rubbing her temples with her fingers. “I don’t even know what to say. What kind of people might we be dealing with here?”
“A group of fanatics who think they’ve been proven right,” Brad said, then slugged down the rest of the liquor in one gulp.
“And they’re out there somewhere,” Anna said, wrapping her arms around her midsection and leaning forward, looking at him in the firelight. “How close do you think they are?”
Brad shook his head and gave a helpless shrug. “I have no idea. I’ve been miles around for hunting and I’ve never even run into a sign of anyone else.”
“But they found those cabins,” she said. “Which means that they might find us.”
“Those cabins aren’t as hidden as ours,” Brad countered. “They’re out near the road; they’re on the map. We’re not. Dad was always careful that we were completely off the grid. As far as I know, we’re the only ones who know about this place.” He paused for a moment and then shrugged again. There was no sense in sugarcoating things. “Which doesn’t mean that we shouldn’t be careful. You’re right. They can’t be too far away, in the grand scheme of things.”
“I’m glad we built up our defenses,” Anna said, finishing her own drink in a gulp as well. “And I’m glad that you found that extra ammunition in the attic.”
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Not that I think they’ll be able to find us anytime soon, but—”
She hadn’t interrupted him. His own brain had. In fact, the memory slammed into him like a truck. He’d left a note. If the cult decided they wanted Martha back, the first place they’d go would be her last known whereabouts. And then, they would find the note that he’d left there. The note explaining that he’d taken her to a cabin up the road.
“Brad?” Anna asked, concerned at his sudden silence.
“Sorry,” he said quickly, faking a smile. “I just got lost in my thoughts there for a second.” He stretched and yawned widely. “And I might have finished that Scotch a little too fast,” he lied. “We should probably get to bed, don’t you think?”
“Sure,” Anna agreed, but she seemed a little confused. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Yeah. Just a little fuzzy-headed,” he said. “I’ll see you in the morning, okay? We’ll start looking into making some more traps and alarms, just in case.”
“I could definitely use some sleep,” she agreed, seeming to accept his excuses. Or, maybe she was just happy that he’d been the one to suggest even more defenses before she had to bring it up. “Okay. I’ll see you in the morning and we’ll get started.”
As he watched her walk out of the living room and up the stairs to her bedroom, he realized that in his babbling, he’d made one mistake. They did need to boost their defenses, without a doubt. But he wouldn’t be there in the morning.
He needed to get a few hours of sleep, but in the morning, Brad planned to be back at that cabin. He had to get the note before anyone else found it. It had already been several days. He just prayed that it wasn’t too late.
Chapter 10
It was still pitch black outside when Brad woke up. He listened carefully, but he didn’t hear any movement upstairs. He moved as quickly as he could without making noise as he dressed, then squinted to look out the dark window as he pulled his coat on. It was still snowing, but it was a light snow. He hoped it would stay that way.
Just before he pulled his gloves on, he grabbed a notebook and scribbled a note to Anna. He thought for a few minutes, trying to find the right words. Nothing seemed right. He couldn’t tell her what he’d done in a note and there was no explanation he could give that wouldn’t raise questions. In the end, he kept it short and sweet.
Sorry, had to go out. Back soon. Stay inside. Brad.
He pushed his hand gun down into his waistband and grabbed the shotgun as well. It couldn’t hurt. Then, he headed out before anyone woke up. If this played out correctly, no one would have to know about the note.
The walk through the dark, freezing woods was even more nerve-wracking this time. The first time, he hadn’t known what there was to be afraid of. Now that he did, he was jumping at shadows. His heart felt like it was going to thud out of his chest and he was so shaky that he doubted his ability to hit a target even if he was presented with one.
He had to stifle a yell when something scurried across his path. The raccoon seemed just as startled, but that was a poor consolation.
Brad forced himself to stop walking. He leaned against a tree, drawing in a deep breath through his nose and letting it out through his mouth. It hurt like hell because of how cold the winter morning air was, but it helped. A few more breaths and he felt much less like he was going to jump out of his own skin.
He managed the rest of the walk fairly well. The rising sun helped a lot. The snow stopped as well, so he could see clearly, but his heart didn’t truly slow down until he walked back into the lake house and saw that it was still empty. The furniture was still there as well, and Brad relaxed just a bit. If they were still doing what they’d been doing when Martha was with them, the furniture meant that they hadn’t been in the cabin.
He walked into the kitchen and let his breath out, feeling his tense shoulders fully relax. The note was still there. The pen was still lying beside it in the exact same place he’d left it. He grabbed the note and stuffed it into his pocket. He’d burn it when he got back to the cabin.
Should he try to get some more looting done? There had been things in the other bedrooms. Some of them might be good for Anna. Hell, there might even be things he could use. And it would give him a good cover. He could tell Anna that he’d had a sudden urge to go on one last looting trip. She’d be mad at him, but if he had new things to distract her with, that might help.
And yet…that tingling sensation was back, making his shoulders hunch up and the hair on his arms rise. He couldn’t pin it down, he just knew that he wanted to get out of there. Maybe it boiled down to animal instinct. If he’d listened to it last time, he wouldn’t be in this boat…and Martha would probably be lying in that back bedroom, her big blue eyes glazed over with ice.
No. Cult or not, Brad wouldn’t change what he’d done. And paranoia or not, he needed a damn good reason to be out here. There were supplies here. He needed to man up and go get them.
He was gearing up to walk down the hall and back into those bedrooms, but then he saw something on the back deck. Tracks in the thick snow. He stepped to the door and looked, praying silently that it was some kind of animal that had wandered up onto the deck.
The footprints were human. And there was more than one set. Brad felt frozen in a way that had nothing to do with the temperature outside. His own footprints would be perfectly clear as well, and they would lead straight to this cabin.
He turned quickly, all of the fear that had kept him stuck to the spot a second ago propelling him forward now. He had to get out of there. There might not be much time before they came back.
Brad yanked open the cabin door and bolted across the porch and down the steps. At this point, he didn’t care if he was seen. He was fairly confident that he could outrun whoever was out there and even more confident that he could lose them in the woods.
His mind spun with half-formed plans. He couldn’t go back to the cabin until he knew that he wasn’t being followed. He had a few supplies with him—enough to be able to spend the night in the woods. He’d have to face Anna’s wrath the next day but it was better than leading a group of crazies right back to his doorstep.
> A gunshot ripped through the early morning quiet and interrupted his frantic planning. Brad could tell that it came from one of the houses to his left, but he didn’t look much further. He just ran faster.
There was no point in trying to stop and return fire. He didn’t know how many people there were or which cabins they had chosen. He heard the whizz of the next bullet just before it nicked his ear in a hot flash of pain. He put on an extra burst of speed, churning through the snow drifts and cursing every inch of powder, aiming for the woods.
He could lose them in there. Unless there were more of them. He shoved the thought away. He’d worry about that when he came to it. At least in the woods, there would be more places to hide.
There would also be a much better chance of taking some of them down. He was surprised at how fast his thought process switched when his life was in danger. He hadn’t wanted to hurt anyone else since that day in the cellar. To be fair, he didn’t want to hurt anyone right now. He just wanted to go home.
“Hey!”
The call was so unexpected that Brad skidded to a halt just before he plunged into the woods and looked toward the sound of it. An old army truck was parked across the road ahead of him, away from the houses. A plump, middle-aged woman was leaning out of the driver’s window, waving her arm frantically to get his attention.
“Hurry!” she called urgently. “I heard the shots.”
Brad hesitated. It would definitely be faster to go with her. But what if—
Another bullet whizzed past him.
“Fuck,” he breathed. He didn’t have a choice.
He sprinted across the road and jumped into the truck. The woman gunned the engine, taking off down the road, the truck’s wheels spinning slightly on the packed snow.
Brad gripped the dashboard as they skidded toward the edge of the road. The woman got it back under control smoothly, and soon, the houses vanished from sight in the side mirror. Brad relaxed back and let his breath out.
“How did you know I wasn’t one of the bad guys?” he asked.
