by AJ Powers
“Feeding the chickens and milking Rudy,” Kelsey said as she reached for a wooden spoon. “I think it would be good if—” she stopped mid-sentence when she burned her hand on the blazing hot pan. Her reflex to withdraw her hand from such pain caused her to knock the pan off the stove. She jumped back as it crashed to the floor, narrowly missing her bare feet. Kelsey immediately grabbed her finger and sucked in air with clenched teeth.
Clay darted over and grabbed her arm. “Are you okay?” he asked with a concerned look on his face. “Let me see.”
“I’m fine,” Kelsey said, but didn’t resist when Clay pulled her hand away from the burned finger.
It was a pretty nasty burn, but Clay had seen much worse. He walked over to the refrigerator and opened the top door, grabbing a plastic tray and dumping the few cubes of ice left into a towel. He wrapped it up before gently placing it on Kelsey’s finger.
Their eyes locked as Clay held the cold towel on her hand. To Clay, Kelsey’s gaze was still captivating and he found himself quite often getting lost in her green eyes. It was as if everything in the world was right—it was normal—when he looked at her. His body, for the first time in more than a week, started to relax.
Kelsey slowly pulled away. “Thank you,” she said as she walked over to the pan, but Clay insisted she sit down; he would take care of the mess. Kelsey sat down at the table in the middle of the kitchen and peeled the towel away; a small blister had already developed. “Listen, Clay…”
Here it comes, Clay thought. Even though he had been bracing for it ever since he left Liberty, he hated that the moment had finally arrived.
Kelsey was visibly frustrated, but the soft-spoken voice did not match her expression. “I was so mad at you when Geoff told me that you had run off on your own—”
Clay cut her off, immediately going on the defense. “I know, Kelsey, but it was really important that I find someone to fix the gun.” Kelsey’s pursed lips and icy glare was an unpleasant reminder that he had cut her off—a bad habit she hated and something Clay struggled to break. “I’m sorry, Kels,” he said as he gestured for her to continue.
Her stare lingered a moment longer before she fluttered her eyes and recalled her thoughts. “As I was saying, it really frustrated me that you ran off like that without help and without coming home first to talk about…” she trailed off, but Clay knew she wasn’t done so he remained silent. “But I trust you, Clay.”
Clay physically felt his eyebrows raise by the unexpected comment. He tried to mask it, as to not look too shocked, but Kelsey noticed the gesture and cracked a smiled. Kelsey did her best to not add to Clay’s stress, so she constantly found herself biting her tongue when he did things she disagreed with—such as a several-hundred mile journey to trade with a stranger. But she could at least see the logic and benefit of that trip. However, when she struggled to understand how the reward would outweigh the risk—like walking into uncharted territory to find someone to repair a gun that wasn’t essential to living—she was not typically too quiet about it.
“I may never understand why you take some of the risks you do. I may not ever agree with certain decisions, but someone helped me understand that everything you have done has been for the good of your family.” She stood up from the table and knelt down next to Clay as he picked up remnants of egg off the floor. She gave him that loving, hypnotic look. “And you’ve never given me any reason to believe otherwise. So,” she said before leaning in to give him a kiss, “I trust you.”
Clay was stunned. His mouth hung open as he tried to process what had just happened. He went into the conversation expecting a lion and found a kitten instead. Though he avoided the verbal thrashing, the pang of guilt hit him as he realized just how much he had been gone over the last two months. He needed to make it a point to be home more, especially with the winter months closing in. He also knew that he and Kelsey needed some time together, to have a moment where they could just focus on each other instead of one of the many thousands of things that needed to be done around the homestead. Fortunately, the perfect opportunity to do such a thing had just been presented to him.
Clay stood up from the floor and helped Kelsey to her feet. He put the pan in the sink and turned around to look at her. He leaned back into the counter and had a smile on his face. “So, Barry caught me as I was heading out the other day. He has invited us—all of us—to some sort of fall festival early next month. It’s a week-long event with lots of food, crafts, games and such. Sounds like a lot of fun, and apparently, a lot of activities with the kids that would allow us to have some time to ourselves,” Clay said.
Kelsey’s face lit up as she recalled the last event she went to in Liberty—the night Clay proposed. “A whole week?” she asked nearly in disbelief. “That sounds incredible! But next month? What if it starts to snow?” she asked.
“It might get a bit cold, but if last year is any indication, I think we’ll be okay. Besides, Barry said they had some alternative plans if that happens.” Clay walked over to Kelsey and rubbed her arms and kissed the top of her head. “It’ll be fun,” he added.
Kelsey sunk into Clay’s chest and let out a sigh of contentment. The very thought of spending some time alone with Clay—where they could have a quiet conversation over dinner or take a walk through the quaint neighborhood in Liberty—seemed like a dream. Kelsey hugged Clay tightly. “That sounds so incredible.” She looked up at him and smiled. “I love you, Clay.”
Clay smiled. “Love you, too.” He looked down at her hand and saw the blister forming. “I’m going to go run over to Megan’s; see if she has some oil or something to help with that.”
“Okay,” Kelsey said as she walked over to the fridge and fetched a few more eggs. “Hopefully I’ll actually be able to have your breakfast ready by the time you get back,” she said with a renewed joy in her voice.
Clay made his way to the door, but paused as he reached for the handle. He turned around and looked at Kelsey. “I know I’ve been gone a lot lately,” he started, “and I’m sorry for that. I still have a few things I’ll need to take care of later this month—none of which should be more than a few days at a time—I promise, Kels, I’m going to be home a lot more from now on.”
Kelsey smiled at the sincerity in Clay’s voice. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t complain about that,” she said with a flirtatious voice. “I do like having my husband around from time to time.”
“All right,” Clay said as he waved a lazy goodbye, “back in a few,” he said and walked out the door.
Clay walked to the main house and upon entering, was greeted by Courtney, one of the only children in the house who managed to dodge the virus thus far. She was on her way out the door to hang some laundry to dry—the downside to staying healthy when everyone else was sick was the added workload; something Clay was all too familiar with.
Expecting Megan to be in the infirmary studying, Clay went to the master bedroom on the first floor, but much to his surprise, he found the room empty. Staying quiet as best as he could, Clay made his way up the creaky steps and down the hall to Megan’s bedroom. He lightly knocked.
After a few seconds passed, he heard a groggy response. “Huh?”
“It’s Clay.”
Soon after, unsteady footsteps approached the other side of the door. The door opened and Megan flashed a smile before hugging Clay. “Good to see you little brother,” she said as she stepped back and stretched.
“You look terrible,” Clay said.
“You’re quite the charmer, Clay. I can see why Kelsey fell for you.”
If it had been anybody else, Clay might have felt bad over his choice of words, but Megan was never one to put much stock in looks—certainly not in the last ten years. She looked exhausted, though, even for a woman who constantly pushed herself harder than she should. “Sounds like it was a rough night,” Clay said.
“Yeah, it was,” Megan said as she fought through a yawn. “What time is it?”
Glancing a
t his watch, Clay answered. “Almost eight.”
“Ah, yes, forty-five minutes ought to be enough sleep to get through the day,” she tried to say sarcastically, but her weary tone failed to deliver.
“Well,” Clay said, “Kelsey burned her finger on a pan. I just wanted to get an ointment or something from you and then I’ll let you get back to sleep,” he paused for a moment. “Sorry for waking you.”
In the middle of another yawn, Megan waved him off. “It’s fine, Clayton. I need to go check on Maya’s fever anyway,” she said as she headed toward the door. Clay followed her down the stairs and on into the infirmary. “Maya spiked to nearly one-oh-five last night. I actually took her outside into the rain to cool her down.” Megan sifted through a box of oils and canisters with different blends. “That was about as unpleasant a fifteen minutes as I think I’ve spent in years.”
Clay felt badly for his big sister. In the last three years, it felt as if everyone had changed, but Megan was still the same old Megan. Always giving so much of her time to others that she never had any for herself. Clay wasn’t the only one worried all the stress and lack of sleep would eventually catch up to her one day, but such was the nature of Megan, and she couldn’t be persuaded by anyone on the farm to care for herself from time to time. Stubbornness was the cornerstone of the Whitaker bloodline.
Frazzled and unable to find what she was looking for, Megan walked to the other side of the room and rummaged through a different box. “Here it is,” she said as she pulled a small mason jar out of the box. “It’s peppermint and Aloe Vera. Putting this on should help with the pain and then in a couple of hours have her apply a bit of lavender,” she said.
“Got it,” Clay said and thanked her for the ointment. “You going to be okay?” he asked. “You seriously look like you’re about to keel over.”
“Yep,” she said as she grabbed her medical bag and headed out the door. “I’ve gotten two, maybe three good days of sleep since the world ended, what’s another night going to hurt?” she said with a faint smile as she walked over to the stairs.
Back at home, Clay repeated Megan’s instructions for applying the ointment and Kelsey noticed the cooling sensation take effect almost immediately. “This stuff is amazing,” she said. “Hard to believe so few people relied on it back when we were growing up.”
Clay shrugged.
Breakfast was cooked to perfection; a fancy bistro couldn’t have prepared it any better. Clay savored each bite of egg so he could enjoy his first legitimate meal in nearly two weeks. It made him all the more aware of just how much he hated to leave home, even though it was something he did frequently. Dry clothes, a warm bed; creature comforts such as books and music—Paige was becoming quite the pianist—tending to the crops and livestock—all things Clay missed while he was out for days or weeks at a time. But all those things paled in comparison to what he missed most: his family. In Clay’s mind, there was no better way to start a day than waking up to Kelsey’s beautiful smile. But the dwindling supply of goods and necessities on the farm demanded he and the others continued on their expeditions from time to time. Even if it meant sleeping in a bathtub inside a Screamer lair.
Chapter 11
“Hand me that wrench, would ya?” Levi asked.
Clay grabbed the rusty tool sitting on top of a toolbox and handed it to Levi, who promptly put it to use. Clay was helping Levi with the second wagon, which was on the verge of being road-worthy. Clay was not much of a handyman so he appreciated the opportunity to learn a few things. Back when they lived in the tower, he was forced to repair critical items whenever they broke, but his lack of skill was always evident in the hack-job type repairs. He was a bit more competent fixing electronics, or to a lesser extent, firearms, but Clay was a novice when it came to carpentry and general construction. Since he was away while the first wagon had been restored, he volunteered to help with the second.
It was nearly noon, but the heavy clouds blanketing the sky provided little light for them to work. The interior lights helped, but Clay found himself bouncing between the three dynamo lanterns to keep the work area bright enough for them to see what they were doing.
“Okay,” Levi said as he crouched down next to the rear axle and applied some grease. “You really wanna slather this stuff on there—keep everything moving smoothly.”
“Makes sense,” Clay acknowledged. Levi used fat they had rendered from a hog they ate for dinner last week. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, but finding a commercially made grease was not a simple task anymore—improvising was just a way of life and the pig fat seemed to work quite well.
Clay and Levi picked up the heavy wagon wheel and slid it onto the axel. Clay then secured the second wheel to the wagon, applying what he had learned from Levi’s example with the first one. Grabbing one of the spokes, Clay gave it a good spin.
“Like butter,” Levi commented as he observed the wheel’s rotation. Everything was working perfectly. “Okay, two down, two more to go. After that, just a few more odds and ends and she’ll be ready for the Oregon Trail.”
Clay smiled at the historical reference; he enjoyed having a few older guys on the farm. Not just so he could learn from them, but also so he could talk to them about life before the eruptions—something most of the kids could barely remember, if they were even alive at the time. The men contributed much more than just conversation, as well. Levi, Michael, and Geoff’s input, knowledge, and experience alleviated much of the burden that Clay had been forced to bear for so many years. Even though Clay was still viewed as the unofficial leader of the community, it helped that most of the of the time they were all on the same page—disagreements were few and far between. It was nice that he didn’t always have to shoulder the entire weight of the responsibility anymore. Clay was free to have a sick day occasionally, and he wasn’t the one who had to make every little decision for the group. As he helped Levi finish up the wagon, Clay realized just how much he appreciated the other men on the farm with him.
Clay and Levi turned as they heard the shop door open. Megan headed toward them with a plate of food: ham and egg on wheat. “I thought you boys might be hungry,” she said as she put the plate in front of them.
“Oh, yeah!” Levi said excitedly, reaching for the sandwich. “Thanks! Been out here since sunrise, didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast.”
Clay looked down at the plate then up at Megan. “Thanks, sis,” he said as he grabbed his.
“You’re welcome.” She looked over at Levi, who was already scarfing the sandwich down. She chuckled at the piece of egg dangling out of the corner of his mouth. “You have a little something…” she said as she scratched the corner of her lip.
“Oh,” Levi said with an embarrassed look on his face before pushing the leftover bite into his mouth. “Mmmmm. This really hit the spot,” he added, giving her an adoring look that was not as subtle as he might have hoped.
Clay swallowed his bite and added, “Eh, could’ve used some mayo.”
Megan let Clay know what she thought of his comment with a slug to the shoulder. “Tell you what, little brother, next time you can make your own lunch,” she said while giving him a sarcastic glare. “Speaking of making food,” she said as she held out a small cloth, “Bev and I took a stab at some cheese last night. It’s not exactly a sharp cheddar, but I think it turned out pretty well.”
In shock, Clay snatched the bag from Megan and opened it up. Like two kids wrestling over Halloween candy, Levi’s hand ended up inside the bag while Clay was still trying to fish out his own piece. Moments later, both men were chewing. The last time Clay had eaten cheese—or a bucket full of chemicals claiming to be—was from an MRE several years past its prime.
“Okay, well don’t kill each other over it. We’re still figuring things out, but there will be plenty more where that came from,” Megan said. She looked up at the wagon, seeing the progress for the first time and added, “It’s starting to look like a wagon.” She turned her at
tention to Clay. “Will it be ready in time for us to go to Liberty’s festival?”
Clay deferred to Levi, who nodded and mumbled through a mouth full of cheese. “Mmmm-hmmm.”
“Yay!” Megan exclaimed.
Getting everyone to the Liberty in a single trip with just one wagon would have been impossible, but the second wagon solved that problem, allowing everyone to go. Michael and Hawthorne elected to stay behind to take care of chores around the farm while everyone else was gone. No one was surprised by that news; Michael didn’t care to be surrounded by a bunch of people he had never met and Hawthorne preferred the comfort of her own bed—traveling two or more days there and then back didn’t sound all that appealing.
“I can’t wait to go; it’s going to be so much fun!” Megan added, smiling toward Levi. “All right, I’ll let you guys get back to it. Great job on the wagons, Levi.”
Levi’s cheeks reddened as he smiled at the compliment. His eyes remained fixed on Megan until the door closed behind her, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Clay.
“So, when are you going to tell her?” Clay asked.
“Tell her what?” Levi replied, his voice cracked.
“Tell her what?” Clay said mockingly as he took another bite of his sandwich. “Tell Megan you’re in love with her.” Bread crumbs flew from his mouth.
“Uhm, what? I don’t…” Levi stammered before conceding. “Is it that obvious?”
Clay’s eyes got big and he made a funny face while he nodded.
