Hidden (Final Dawn)

by Maloney, Darrell

  “Thank you, doll. I so love you too.”

  “You’d better,” she teased. “I’m the only one who will love you in your old age. Did you know you have a gray hair?”

  He looked at her with an expression best described as mild panic.

  “I do not!”

  She chuckled.

  “Do too! Right there in your sideburn, on the left side.”

  He crawled out of bed and went to the bathroom.

  While he was gone, Hannah took his pillow and held it close. She could still feel the warmth and smell the scent that his head left behind. She buried her face in it.

  Mark came back and crawled back in bed with her.

  “You were wrong. I don’t have a gray hair.”

  She drew back and examined him closely.

  “You plucked it out, you big cheater!”

  He laughed.

  “Yes, and next time I shave the sideburns are coming off, too. I’m way too young to be getting gray hairs.”

  She kissed him and smiled.

  “I never knew you were vain.”

  “I’m not vain. I just don’t want gray hair.”

  “Gray hair’s better than no hair. Maybe it’ll just all fall out and we can save some money on shampoo.”

  “You’re gonna get it.”

  “Ooh, promises promises.”

  At that moment the dinner bell in the dining room started to ring, indicating breakfast was ready.

  A sleepy eyed Markie walked into the couple’s bedroom.

  “Hi, Mommy. Hi, Daddy. Let’s go eat.”

  Mark looked at Hannah and said, “He’s getting bossy, just like you.”

  She threw a pillow at him, and Markie squealed, “Oh, boy! Pillow fight!”

  Chapter 26

  Throughout Mark and Hannah’s relationship they had grown to be wary when things went too smoothly for too long. Good times for them had a tendency to end with strikingly poor results.

  The night Hannah was offered a very prestigious, high paying job with NASA, for example, she came down with rheumatic fever and was bedridden for weeks. She understood when NASA had to withdraw the offer and give the position to someone else, but it still hurt.

  The day after Mark bought Hannah a winning lottery ticket that made them multi-millionaires, Hannah made the discovery that Saris 7 was going to collide with earth and kill most of mankind.

  The day after Mark proposed to Hannah, he was involved in a car accident on a highway outside of San Angelo. A long piece of angle iron slid off the end of a tractor trailer rig in front of Mark and came through his windshield. If he hadn’t been paying close attention at the time and quickly moved to the side it would have impaled him, through the chest and almost certainly his heart.

  It had always been that way. So it was easy to understand that whenever things seemed to be going well, Mark and Hannah had a very slight feeling of dread in the back of their minds that something, somehow, was getting ready to go terribly wrong.

  Hannah and little Markie sat at a table together in the dining room. Each of the tables were inlaid in various designs, and while mostly used for dining, each one had a dual purpose.

  One table near the front of the bay, for example, was inlaid with a Monopoly board design. A drawer underneath the table top held all the cash, tokens and deeds needed for a good game of Monopoly.

  Another table was inlaid with a Scrabble board, and its drawer contained Scrabble tiles, their holders, and a score pad.

  All twenty two of the tables came from the same manufacturing plant outside of Pittsburgh and each had a different theme.

  The table where Hannah and Markie sat on this particular afternoon was inlaid with a depiction of several huge Crayola crayons.

  Inside the drawer were several dozen crayons in various stages of use, and a handful of coloring books.

  Markie was a bit better than a scribbler now, but a bit short of DaVinci. He was putting the finishing touches on a purple dog, trying his best to stay mostly within the lines.

  “What are you going to name your dog, honey?”

  “Daddy.”

  She chuckled and said, “Well, that’s appropriate.”

  “Mommy, when can we go outside again?”

  “I don’t know, honey. Why do you ask?”

  “I watch TV sometimes. All the kids get to play outside. Climb trees and run in the grass. How come we can’t?”

  “We will soon, tiny sailor, I promise. Right now it’s just too cold outside. But in a couple of years, all the snow will go away and it will be warm again. And then we can be outside.”

  “Can I climb trees like the kids on the TV?”

  “Yes, sir, you certainly can.”

  “Mommy, will you do something nice for me?”

  “Sure. What?”

  “Will you not call me tiny sailor anymore? I am five now. I’m not tiny anymore.”

  She laughed.

  “Okay. But can I call you little sailor?”

  “Okay. That’s much better.”

  Both of them heard a commotion and looked up to see Brad running full speed through the mine, toward the livestock bay.

  Hannah was puzzled, but not overly concerned. Markie went back to his purple dog.

  Less than a minute later, Brad ran by again, going the other direction, with Mark by his side keeping pace. Hannah noticed that Mark was still wearing the blue rubber gloves he always wore when he milked Daisy the cow.

  This time she was concerned.

  “Mommy, why is Daddy running?”

  “I don’t know, honey. Let’s go find out.”

  They left the crayons scattered haphazardly on the table. Hannah grabbed her son’s hand and headed quickly to the east side of the mine, where the living quarters were.

  Hannah had a terrible sense of dread, and as soon as they turned the corner into Bay 5, her worst fears were confirmed.

  There, sitting on the steps in front of Phyllis Snyder’s RV, was Debbie Bay, Phyllis’ daughter and Mark’s sister. Her face was buried in her hands. Helen Kenney had her arms wrapped around her, trying her best to console her.

  Mark was nowhere to be seen, but Hannah knew exactly where he was. He was inside, with his mother’s body, probably crying inconsolably.

  Hannah had to get to him. He needed her more at this moment than ever before.

  Hannah took little Markie over to Helen and Debbie. Helen broke away from Debbie and reached for little Markie.

  Hannah looked at her son and said, “Honey, I want you to go see Auntie Helen for a few minutes, and I’ll be right back, okay?”

  Markie had his own plans.

  “No. Wanna go inside and watch cartoons with Grammy.”

  Sarah and Sami came running too, attracted by all the commotion.

  Helen said, “She left the kitchen a couple of hours ago. Said she wasn’t feeling well and wanted to lay down. I came by to check on her and to bring her a bowl of hot soup, and I found her. I ran to find Debbie, and Debbie tried CPR. She even tried shocking her heart with one of those portable heart packs. But we both knew she was long gone.”

  Hannah fought back the tears. So did Helen, but she was losing the battle. Helen caught her eye and mouthed the words, “Go. He’ll be okay.”

  Hannah found Mark kneeling at his mother’s bedside, his face buried in her shoulder. He was trembling. She knew there was nothing she could say to comfort him. She knelt down beside him and placed her hand on the back of his neck. He collapsed in her arms and soaked her blouse. Neither said a word.

  After he composed himself, Mark kissed his mother on the forehead and said, “I love you, Mom. Peaceful journey to you. Take care of Dad and keep him out of trouble. I’ll see you again someday.”

  Then he pulled the sheet up and covered her face. He had seen her for the last time, save his memories.

  Chapter 27

  Little Markie, being the youngest citizen of the mine, received plenty of attention in the days following his Grammy’s
death. Everyone wanted to hold him and hug him, which he enjoyed. But he couldn’t understand all the sadness and tears.

  Death was a concept that he couldn’t quite get his hands around.

  “Grammy went to heaven to join Gramps,” Mark told him.

  “I don’t know Gramps. Is he Grammy’s daddy?”

  “No, he was my daddy. He was married to Grammy before he went to heaven.”

  “Oh. Are they going to come and visit us?”

  “No, I’m afraid not. Heaven is too far away.”

  “Then can we go to heaven and visit them? We can drive truck. It goes far.”

  “Someday we’ll all go to heaven and see them again. But it won’t be for a very long time.”

  They wrapped her body in white sheets and laid her gently on the floor in the back of bay twenty four. It struck Mark that this is what Jesus must have looked like when He was laid to rest. But he knew that she wouldn’t be coming back. Not now, not ever.

  The one thing they had never planned for was a burial while in the mine. Under the bleak circumstances, it should have been a basic requirement. Perhaps they had just been too busy to consider it. Or maybe subconsciously they just didn’t want to.

  They covered her body with salt from the tunnel. The burial mound stood a full three feet tall, and would compact over time.

  Mark knew that the body wouldn’t decompose into bones. He knew enough about the mysterious works of nature to know that the body would mummify as the salt absorbed the bodily fluids and protected it from parasites. This was good, because it gave them the option of moving the body later on, after the breakout, into a family plot they’d set aside in the compound.

  As usual, Karen was full of surprises. She’d stayed up all night the night before painting a piece of scrap plywood into the most beautiful of gravestones. She’d have loved it, and she’d have been very proud.

  Bryan, the closest thing they had in the mine to a preacher, said some pretty words and offered some comfort to the grieving. His words didn’t help the situation, of course. But they bought some time before the tears started flowing.

  And everyone, except little Anna, did a good job of holding back the tears. That was, until Karen pulled another surprise by producing a single yellow rose and placing it on the finished grave mound.

  Karen had been growing a single rosebush in the back of the greenhouse the whole time, unbeknownst to anyone other than her and Hannah. For special occasions, she’d tell everyone later.

  Special occasions, she’d say, like for a mother who’d just given birth to a new baby. Or to the elders, on a milestone wedding anniversary.

  Or, for a beloved who was taken away far too soon.

  Anna and David sang Amazing Grace and Rock of Ages, just the way Uncle Joe had taught them. Joe accompanied them on an acoustic guitar, and it was at that moment Mark noticed for the first time how his niece and nephew were growing up into fine young adults. And he let his thoughts wander for a moment about the cycle of life. The Lord giveth, and the Lord taketh away…

  There was something about the simple grave, the pure white virtue of the mound, the single yellow rose. It was… beautiful. As sad as it was, it was indeed beautiful, and befitting of the life which laid beneath it.

  Mark knew this would be one of his favorite places to come in the months and years ahead. He knew it would offer him solace and peace, and a place to lose himself in his thoughts.

  He also knew that his love for this woman, and her love for him, wasn’t going to end just because he could no longer feel her tender touch, and watch her laughter. No, despite all they had been through, and even as the whole world was dying around them, that love would stay intact. Forever.

  Bryan would come back later in the day and install a spotlight, which would shine onto the grave day and night, as long as they were in the mine. He even installed a battery backup, so in the event of a power outage, her light would be the only one shining. A beacon in the night, he said.

  Bryan said it was the least he could do for her, since she’d brightened the lives of so many during the course of her lifetime.

  And all of them wondered, but dared not speak the words, whether she would suffer this indignity alone, or would have some company laying beside her, in eternal repose, at some point before they were able to break out.

  Chapter 28

  Frank Woodard stuffed provisions into an olive drab duffle bag and put it on his back. Jesse Martinez asked him, “Are you sure you don’t want me to come along? There is strength in numbers, you know. And you should at least take your gun.”

  “No. They will view a single unarmed man as less of a threat. They are all probably as frightened of outsiders as we are. I need to be able to gain their trust, and show them I am no threat to them.”

  “And tell me again, why are you risking your life to help people you don’t even know?”

  “I don’t know, Jesse. It’s just something I feel I have to do.”

  Eva interjected, “He’s doing it because he’s a man of God. And because it’s what Jesus would have done if He were here.”

  She kissed her husband and admonished him.

  “Don’t take any unnecessary chances, honey. You owe me that much. If you feel threatened in any way, you get out of there and come back home to me. Understand?”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  He saluted her and she laughed. It seemed to lighten the moment.

  Jesse Martinez walked him out to the street.

  “Jesse, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Frank, don’t even. I know what you’re going to ask, and you know my answer to it. You know damn well that if you don’t come back we will take good care of Eva. She is as much a part of my family now as my own children. You both are. You know that.”

  Frank never believed in man hugs before the freeze. But the frozen world had changed them all in so many ways. He hugged Jesse unashamedly and said, “Thank you, my friend.”

  Then he trudged off down the street toward the barricade of cars at the end of the block.

  Frank went two blocks over, to Maple Street, and one block south to Hollow Tree Drive. There, four houses from the corner, he found what he was looking for. Smoke coming from a chimney.

  It might be easy to hide in a world where three feet of snow blanketed the earth. But in such a world it was impossible to survive without fire, and the smoke would always give you away.

  The house was completely ringed with parked cars, which formed a circle of protection around it. Frank approached the house, hoping he wasn’t making a dreadful mistake.

  He stayed outside the ring of cars. If he was shot at, he reasoned, he would be able to dive down and take cover behind them.

  “Hello in the house!”

  There was dead silence. Not even the wind blew. The seconds seemed to take forever to tick by.

  “Hello in the house! My name is Frank. I mean you no harm!”

  Frank could not see what was happening in the house, of course, but he imagined a group of people scampering around, watching from behind the window blinds and heavy curtains. Wondering who this fool was and what he wanted.

  Or maybe it was just a single old codger who had a rifle trained on Frank, pulling back on the trigger at this very moment.

  Frank was getting ready to yell again when the front door opened about four inches.

  He couldn’t see anything. No one stepped out. But he heard a man’s voice yell, “What in hell do you want?”

  “I come in peace. I am not armed. I am just checking on my neighbors and friends. Do you have everything you need?”

  “It’s none of your damn business what we have!”

  “Fair enough. I brought you food in case you need it. I will leave it here. Then I will leave. You have my word, I mean you no harm.”

  Frank used his forearm to brush snow from the hood of one of the cars. Then he reached into the duffle bag and took out four boxes of spaghetti noodles and six jars of chicken boui
llon. He placed them in plain view on the car’s hood.

  The two combined together with water would feed a dozen people for three or four days.

  Then he turned and left.

  He was forty feet away when he heard someone yelling again.

  “Mister, wait!”

  Frank knew it was dangerous, but he stopped and turned anyway.

  The door was open now, and the man he’d been conversing with was on the porch. In the yard was a teenage boy, maybe seventeen. He yelled, “Thank you!” as he scooped up the provisions and scurried back inside. The door closed quickly behind him.

  On the next block, Frank met two armed men at the end of the street pulling guard duty.

  “Stop right there! What do you want?”

  Frank dropped the bag and raised his hands.

  “My name is Frank. I live a few streets over. I mean you no harm. I am just checking on my neighbors and bringing them food if they need it.”

  “You have food?”

  “Yes. I will show you if you promise not to shoot me.”

  “Move slowly.”

  Frank slowly opened the duffle bag and removed two boxes of spaghetti noodles, three jars of chicken bouillon, and a six pack of canned Vienna sausages.

  “Canned goods are no good.”

  “No, these are fine,” Frank said. “There isn’t enough water in them to make the cans swell or break. Once you thaw them out they’re good. I eat them all the time.”

  One of the men seemed meaner than the other.

  “What if we just shoot you and take the whole bag?”

  “Well, you could. But then I wouldn’t be able to tell you where to get a lot more.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “I know where there is a warehouse. A warehouse that has lots of food. Enough for me and mine, and for you and yours.”

  “How do we know you ain’t lying?”

  “I came unarmed. I am giving you food. Do you think I would do that if I meant you harm?”

  “Where do you live?”

  Frank wasn’t quite ready to share that information.

  “Not far. Think it over. Talk to the rest of your clan. I will be back in a couple of days. If one of you wants to know where the food is, I will take you and show you. If you don’t want to know, then just let me go in peace and I won’t bother you again.”