Aftermath [Book 2]

by J. S. Donovan

  They’d already seen the downstairs bedrooms, so Allen gave them the rundown of the bathroom. He offered to show them how to draw water from the well and the proper amount they were allowed to use a day. He said that the bath water shouldn’t be drained until after at least three people used it. If they wished to make it hot, they would need to heat up the water over the fire pit outside and bring it in before it cooled or use the bath outside. The last room in the basement was the storage closet. It was an imposing door with four locks. Allen stopped and put his back to the door. He faced the crowd. “This is my supply closet. No one is allowed in here but myself.”

  “Is that where all the food is?” Becca asked.

  Allen replied. “This room is our lifeline. I will keep it closed and locked at all times. No will enter this room but me. Understand?”

  The crowd nodded in agreement and walked upstairs. There he showed off Naomi’s room and across from it, his own. He never opened the door. He just pointed to it, claimed it was his, and said to always knock before entering. Nearby was the upstairs bathroom. It was larger than the one downstairs, which made Cathleen make a sour face. There was the laundry room and Allen’s study. It was arguably the nicest room in the house, with a fine wood finish. It had large oil paintings, a packed bookcase, and an ancient desk that screamed authority. What he was studying, Naomi didn’t know fully but she saw books on botany, war tactics, DYI construction, and other field manuals/medical text books. As long as he was not occupying the office, he said that anyone could be in there, but told them to ask him for permission before checking out any of the books.

  With the inside of the house toured, Allen promised to give everyone candles. He said to rely on natural light during the day and to avoid burning candles at night. There was a limited supply, and he didn’t want to see them wasted.

  They went outside where Allen showed them his greenhouse. It captured the heat well, but the plants growing within were very limited. Allen admitted that he never finished it. However, he planned to start working on it again soon.

  He went to the outdoor work station. It was underneath a metal awning. The same rules applied to tools as the books in his office: don’t take them away without asking permission.

  He went around the back of the house to show them the wide backyard. There were a few practice dummies, the well, a shed, a fire pit, and the outhouse. He said that the toilets in the house would work as long as there was water to flush them. However, if they were to get clogged, the outhouse would provide. Allen claimed to have dug a four-foot hole beneath the outhouse. When it got nearly full, the outhouse could be easily scooted over and the feces would be shoveled out to use as extra fertilizer. He showed them the shed. It had stacks of fertilizers, seeds labeled for every season, and gardening tools. Nailed to the wall nearby was a laminated list of items.

  He introduced the practice dummies used for close-quarter combat training.

  Someone snickered.

  “You think it’s funny now, but wait to till someone comes running at you and you don’t know how to defend yourself.”

  He showed them the well next. It was a simple red pump. There was a marker next to large laminated paper with a thermometer printed on it. It had different digits to label gallons. “Every time you get water, color in how much you take. After we reach the top, no one will be allowed to take any more until the next day.”

  He showed them his truck, saying that no one drove it but himself.

  He finished the tour at the sliding gate. “This is the only way in and out. It only locks from the inside. When you leave, someone must lock the gate behind you. If it’s not locked, I’m going to assume you ran away and no one will reopen the gate for you.”

  He returned everyone inside. The front door entered into the living room and there was an old clock on the wall with different times of the day marked with red. The ones that stood out were the mealtimes. Dinner was in two hours. Allen expected everyone to be on time. He told everyone to wash up and leave their dirty clothes in the pile. He planned on teaching everyone how to hand wash them.

  Naomi let the Ryans get first dibs on the well so they could bathe. By the time they got enough to wash, the Water for the Day meter was nearly full. Allen said it was a reminder about how quick bath water goes and to only bathe every two or three days unless they were extremely dirty.

  Calvin, Naomi, and Trinity helped carry their own water buckets up the balcony steps and into the bathroom. Despite Trinity bunking with Becca, she wanted to use her parents’ bathtub. It was larger and nicer. She was allowed to take the first bath, then Naomi, and Calvin was last.

  Naomi dressed in a plain-looking shirt and sweats Allen left inside of her dresser. The upstairs was a little warmer than the first floor, but there was still no heater. The only source of heat was the fireplace in the living room and the small fireplace in Allen’s room that no one could access but himself.

  After bathing and dressing up warmly, Naomi only had about twenty minutes before dinner. Calvin was napping and Trinity had taken Naomi’s spot on the bed. Instead of trying to squeeze in, she went to find Allen. He was in the study reading a book on botany. He wore reading glasses on the tip of his nose that made him look comically old. It didn’t fit his gruff persona. The door was open, but Naomi gave it a knock anyway. Allen raised his eyes up from the book. He put his glasses aside and gestured for Naomi to take a seat in the chair facing the desk.

  She did so. “I see you’re planning on running a tight ship.”

  “It’s dangerous waters out there,” Allen replied. “And a lot of your friends are very short-sighted.”

  “They’ll learn,” Naomi replied. “We’ll all learn.”

  Allen grunted in what could’ve been his reply.

  Naomi leaned back in her seat. “I wanted to ask you about Mom and Dad.”

  “What about them?” Allen replied.

  “Well,” Naomi searched for the right words. “They aren’t here.”

  “I know,” Allen replied.

  “But you have a truck. They only live an hour away. Why not get them?” Naomi asked.

  “I was planning to, but not anymore.” Allen said.

  Naomi felt her blood pressure rise. “And why not? These are our parents we’re talking about.”

  Allen leaned forward on the desk. He locked eyes with Naomi and spoke with complete seriousness. “We have nine people to provide for. Two are teenagers and one is a sick elderly cripple. We don’t have room for two more elderly people, nor do we have supplies.”

  Naomi glared at him. “What are you saying?”

  “That we would’ve been able to help Mom and Dad if you let me send the Ryans away.”

  The words punched Naomi. She’d effectively just sold out her own parents to help out five strangers.

  5

  Assignment

  Tall candles and an old chandelier illuminated the long dining room table with an eerie orange glow. Conner sat at the head of one end while the empty chair at the other end waited for Allen.

  It was quiet. With the long trip from Philly out of the way, it was obvious everyone wanted an early night’s rest.

  Allen entered with a large bowl of stew. Meat chunks and diced potatoes bobbed on the surface of the dark liquid. Walking around the table, he used a ladle to scoop out about four ounces of soup into everyone’s bowl before serving himself. He took a seat, sitting at the edge of his chair with perfect posture, and started to dig in. Everyone else looked at each other, completely unimpressed by the tiny portion.

  Cathleen looked at the soup with a sickening expression. Allen noticed. He stopped the spoon an inch from his mouth. “If you want more, you can eat your own food.”

  Dean pushed away from the table. “I’ll get us something from the duffel bags.”

  He rose to his feet, giving Allen a nasty look.

  Naomi cleared her throat. She looked at Allen for a moment before saying, “We’ve been on the road for a long time, Allen
. Is there any way you could get us something more?”

  Dean stopped.

  Everyone looked to Allen.

  After a moment, he said. “Sure.”

  He got up and headed to the kitchen.

  Naomi smiled softly at Dean and gestured for him to sit back down. Trinity spun her spoon around her soup. She leaned to Naomi’s ear. “Is this what we're going to have every night?”

  “Only for a little while,” Naomi whispered back. “You’ll be okay.”

  Naomi tried some of the soup to prove her point. It was warm, thankfully, but largely tasteless. Three months of this would make her suicidal. She hoped that Allen had a diverse menu.

  After a few minutes, Allen returned with a number of carrots and jerky. It wasn’t a big meal, but it was hardy and filling. Trinity said grace in the middle of the meal, having forgot to say it earlier. After the tension had passed, conversations started. Allen stayed quiet as he heard the stories about Philadelphia and everyone’s theory on who launched the EMP. It was fun banter, but they knew they wouldn’t learn the answer to that question until the power came back. Now that they were in the Shenandoah Valley, they’d probably be one of the last houses to get power.

  After the meal, everyone split up into their bedrooms. Naomi and Calvin headed to their room. They used the hand-cranked lantern to guide them up the stairs. They headed into the bedroom and nestled under the covers with the lantern on the nightstand. They both looked up at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

  The window seemed to shake the house. The could hear muffled voices downstairs.

  “It’s going to be a long winter, isn’t it?” Naomi asked.

  Calvin took a deep breath. “I believe so.”

  Naomi went quiet. She felt her fear twist her insides. “Do you think Trinity will be alright?”

  “Why wouldn’t she?” Calvin asked.

  Naomi shrugged. “I just… I don’t know. There is just a lot of dangerous stuff out there.”

  “Hey,” Calvin said as he squeezed her hand. “We’ll take care of her.”

  “I know, but I feel like I keep messing up,” Naomi replied. “First with submitting to the muggers in Philly and then breaking and entering--”

  “Hey,” Calvin cut her off. He rolled next to her, resting his head on his palm and his elbow on his pillow. “We’re doing what we have to do. When she’s older, she’ll understand that. This is a strenuous time. We can’t blame ourselves.”

  “You really think so?” Naomi asked.

  “I know so,” Calvin said confidently. He leaned in and gave her kiss. “Get some sleep. We can talk more tomorrow.”

  Naomi cut off the lantern. She turned away from her husband and pulled the covers to her chin. The moon shone through the window. A million fears, worries, and thoughts raced through her mind. Being a parent was a wonderful, terrifying burden. It was both amazing and agonizing knowing that her own flesh and blood was watching every move she made and may one day pick up her habits.

  The next morning, Allen woke them up early for breakfast. It was powdered eggs to go along with powdered orange juice. He made both using a small fire outside. After they’d eaten, Allen led them outside. It was still dark out as they lined up in the front yard.

  A sliver of the sun peeked over the horizon. Stars sprinkled the sky. A crescent moon lingered on the corner.

  Calvin rubbed his eyes and put back his stylish but fractured glasses. For the first time in days, he combed his hair. Naomi had her short blonde hair in a ponytail. Her hands were buried in her pockets. She yawned, wishing she got more sleep the night before. Trinity was practically falling asleep where she stood. She’d brushed her long hair. Her face was similar to her father’s, sharp and tired, but her eyes were her mother’s: blue and wise. Becca stood next to her, looking like she’d pass out. Cathleen was behind her. Dark circles underlined her intense eyes. She hadn’t gotten sleep since her husband died on the way out of Philly. She crossed her arms and wore a pissed-off expression. With leathery face and dull grey eyes, Dean stood beside her. He kept his pistol on him all the time. Nearby, Conner looked tired and confident. His five o’clock shadow was beginning to evolve to a salt and pepper beard. Fergus sat nearby on his wheelchair. The same beanie he always wore rested on his head of thin hair. His eyes were closed, making it impossible to tell if he was listening or sleeping.

  Allen held a clipboard. He strolled back and forth in front of the crowd. “I woke you up early this morning because there is business we never got a chance to discuss.”

  Conner cracked a tired smile. “May we go back to sleep after this?”

  Allen glared at him for a moment before continuing his talk with the crowd. “As you noticed, my compound is finished but far from perfect. The walls are in shambles. The well isn’t deep enough. The tools are out of order. Food is scarce. The place is in dire need of a renovation. Because of this, I’ll be assigning roles to everyone.”

  The air seemed to leave everyone's lungs.

  Dean spoke up. “I didn’t realize we were being drafted.”

  “If you want to stay around here, you will pitch in,” Allen said. “Dean, you’ll work on the walls. Conner will be the perimeter scout.”

  The Ryan brothers exchanged disappointed looks. Naomi could see conflict brewing. A house divided on itself will not stand. Naomi walked up to Allen. She pulled him aside and out of earshot from the rest of the group.

  Allen looked at her, rife with annoyance. “What are you doing?”

  “Giving you my two cents,” Naomi said.

  “I didn’t ask for your advice,” Allen said and turned.

  Naomi sighed and grabbed his arm. He twisted back to her faster than she could blink. He looked at her hand on his arm and then glared at her face. Naomi let go and returned her hand to her pocket. “Dictating these people is not going to get you anywhere.”

  “They need direction. I won’t allow anyone to drain our supplies without pitching in. If they want to stay, they have to work for it.”

  “I agree,” Naomi whispered back. “But not this way.”

  Allen crossed his arms and cocked his head slightly. He frowned, waiting to hear her brilliant solution.

  Naomi took a breath. “Instead of assigning roles, make a task list and have them do what they feel comfortable doing. They’ll be happier that way, and if they ever want to change their roles, you can remind them it was their idea to sign up for that task. Make sense?”

  It was hard to tell behind Allen’s emotionally vacant face if he heard anything. After a moment, he turned back to the crowd. “Conner, Dean What would you like to do? We have wall maintenance, perimeter fortification, hunting, washing, digging, clean up, gardening, scouting, etc.”

  Dean patted down his pistol. “This place makes me stir crazy. I’d rather be out hunting.”

  “I’m surprised to hear that from a city boy,” Allen replied.

  Dean smirked. “You’ll be surprised by a lot of things about me. Sign me up for hunting and scouting.”

  Conner nodded. “I have a background in construction. I can help out with the wall.”

  Allen marked down something on the legal pad and looked to Calvin. It took Calvin a second to realize everyone was looking at him. “Oh, I like to invent. If you give me some resources, I can invent some additional defense tactics and make things around here run a little smoother.”

  Allen turned to Cathleen. “And you?”

  “It’s too cold out here to want to do anything,” the widow replied.

  “Do you want me to assign you something?” Allen said with a brow raised.

  “I’ll keep the place tidy, how about that?” Cathleen replied.

  “Keep the sheets changed, clothes cleaned, make sure we don’t use too much water, and wash the dishes,” Allen said. “That on top of whatever else you can think of.”

  Cathleen nodded.

  Allen looked at Becca and Trinity.

  “What can we do?” Becca asked.

&
nbsp; Allen said. “What do you want to do?”

  Trinity looked at the greenhouse. “Gardening seems like fun.”

  “What do you know about gardening?” Becca asked Trinity.

  Trinity mumbled. “I don’t know.”

  “I’ll teach you,” Naomi said.

  Trinity looked shocked. “Since when do you know about farming?”

  “Your mother knows a lot of things,” Calvin added.

  Naomi nodded in agreement. “It will be fun. I’ll teach anyone who wants to learn basic survival skills. Knot tying, animal husbandry, whatever. In addition, I’ll offer therapy to anyone who wants in it. We’ve all been through a lot. I’m offering a chance to let loose. You have full confidentiality in me.”

  Allen looked at Fergus. “What about you?”

  The old man coughed.

  Conner spoke up. “I believe rest is the best thing for him.”

  Becca spoke up. “I’ll take care of him in my free time.”

  Allen nodded slowly. “That looks like all of it then. Find some work clothes and we’ll get started.”

  Holding the clipboard by his side, Allen started to head to the door.

  Dean stopped him. “What about you?”

  Allen looked back at them. “I’ll be handling supply rationing and overseeing general provisions. In short, supply. I expect all of you to fulfill your rule to the fullest.”

  Allen headed up the balcony steps and vanished upstairs.

  Calvin yawned, stretching his arms far above his head. “Well, there we have it.”

  Cathleen mumbled to herself as she looked up to the second-story door. “Of course he gets the easy job.”

  Naomi addressed the crowd. “Thank you, guys. I know we all expected rest, but Allen likes to keep things moving. Don’t worry, after dark, the work will stop. We don’t have the luxury of wasting supplies and risking injury in the dark, so you’ll have your evenings free. Also, I’d like all of you to attend therapy with me at least once a week.”

  Cathleen smirked.