by AJ Powers
“Oh,” Levi said as he took a sip of water.
“And, if you haven’t noticed, Megan seems to enjoy being around you, too. I mean she pretty much never brings me food anymore unless we’re working on something together.”
Levi blushed even more, not just because of what Clay said, but the fact that Clay was the one who said it. Talking to anyone about his feelings for Megan would have been uncomfortable, but talking to her protective, albeit younger, brother made Levi feel queasy. “I-I-I don’t know, Clay.”
Clay started to feel awkward for his friend. He was a very outgoing, social guy, but when it came to Megan, he adopted a shy, nervous demeanor. “Just saying, man. I’m not in the business of finding boyfriends for my sister, but the way you two stare at each other… the way you’re always doing things for each other… seems like you guys are already a couple. It’s just that neither one of you are aware of it.”
Levi didn’t respond and there was an uncomfortable silence as both men finished their meals.
“Uhm, well, would you mind?” Levi asked Clay.
Even though he was embarrassed for Levi, Clay couldn’t pass up the chance to make Levi spell it out. “Would I mind what?”
“Would you mind if I, uh, pursued Megan?”
Clay made a funny face with the archaic word choice. “Uhm, if by ‘pursue’ you mean ask her out then no, I don’t mind. Megan is a big girl, she can make her own decisions. Just know that the brotherly rules still apply. If you break her heart, I am contractually obligated to inflict a substantial amount of pain on you,” Clay said with a grin.
Levi returned the smile. Though he was thirty-one, he had never really been involved in a relationship before. He had met a girl in college that he was interested in, but Yellowstone erupted during summer break. Levi lived in Bryan, Texas at the time, and Abigail lived just outside of Pocatello, Idaho—a short drive from the heart of the volcanic crater. Though he hoped he was wrong, Levi knew she didn’t survive the eruption. And even if she was still alive, he figured he had a better shot of going surfing down in Rockport next week than seeing her ever again.
After his parents died during a home invasion at the apex of the civil unrest, Levi packed up his old Ford pickup with everything he could cram inside it and headed for Northfield to stay with his Uncle Cliff and Aunt Melissa. No sooner than when he pulled into the Metzger’s long, gravely driveway, did Levi’s truck run out of gas. Cliff, Michael, and Luke had to help Levi push it the rest of the way to the house so they could unload what he had brought. Since then, his mind had been too preoccupied with surviving than to chase after a girl. However, once Megan and the family arrived on the farm a little over three years ago, he constantly found himself thinking of her, but lacked the courage to tell her about his feelings. Even after asking for Clay’s permission, he was still unsure if he would say anything. “I was thinking about talking to her during the fall festival.”
Clay crouched down and started winding up the lanterns again. “That’s several weeks away, why wait?”
Because I’m a chicken, Levi thought, but he delivered a better line to Clay. “I think it will be more romantic to do it there. Plus, hopefully with all the activities they have planned for the kids, she might actually have a few minutes free for me to talk to her alone,” he said.
Clay shrugged. “That’s fair enough. The ball’s in your court,” he said as he folded his hands and gave a slight bow toward Levi. “You officially have my blessing.”
“Thanks,” Levi replied. “All right, enough chit-chat,” Levi said, confidence restored in his voice. “Time to get back to work.”
Clay and Levi put in a few more hours on the wagon before exhaustion set in. Accomplishing more than he had expected, Levi called it a day. They worked quickly to put the tools away and clean up the mess they had made. As Clay put the last of the tools away, Levi flipped the lights off and waited by the door.
“You go on,” Clay said, “I have to grab a few things from the armory, so I’ll lock up when I’m done.”
“All right,” Levi said, “have a safe trip.”
Clay unlocked the door to the armory and walked inside. He opened the safe closest to the door and grabbed his Scout as well as a .270. He opened a cabinet near the reloading bench and fished out what was left of the .308 ammo—just a box and a half. It had been almost two years since Clay had acquired a bullet in that caliber, so he usually only used it to hunt bigger game like black bear or the moose that had started showing up a few years after the eruptions. Clay thought he was hallucinating the first time he saw a moose that far south, but after thinking about it a little bit, it made sense. Texas, post-eruption, was probably not all that different than pre-eruption Wyoming—as far as weather went anyway. Though he had only seen a handful of moose over the years—and only killed just the one—the Scout was the most suitable rifle for the job.
Clay reached into a bucket and grabbed a handful of .270 cartridges. Except for 7.62x39, they had more .270 than any other cartridge, sitting just a hair under 800 rounds—the benefits of living in a state with a lot of hunters.
Clay quickly went through a mental checklist to make sure he didn’t need anything else before he locked up. Nothing came to mind, so he picked up the rifles and headed out.
Once back home, Clay packed for the hunting trip he and Blake were leaving for in the morning. As was the ritual before heading out for more than a couple of days, Clay emptied his backpack onto the table and inspected every item; this time he remembered to check inside his med kit to see what was needed. The only thing lacking was the ibuprofen. He quickly remedied that, but noticed his reserves were getting a bit low.
After resupplying the medicine and adding some additional items that were essential for longer journeys, Clay zipped up his pack and headed back outside. It was getting late, and he had every intention of leaving before dawn. Waking up before the sun was not a new concept for Clay—Blake on the other hand…
After a quick scan outside, Clay headed to Megan’s place. As expected, Blake was with Lona in the den—one of the only rooms that was off limits to the younger children.
“All right, Romeo, it’s time to go,” Clay blurted out as he walked into the den.
Blake and Lona both looked perplexed.
“Romeo?” Blake asked.
“I suppose they didn’t teach you Shakespeare in first grade…Never mind,” Clay sighed. “Anyway, I’m not sure you’re aware just how early four-thirty comes, so I think we should probably get home and hit the sack soon,” Clay said.
“I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Blake replied.
Clay debated whether he should give Blake enough rope to hang himself. He knew “a few minutes” really meant “I’ll be there in three or four more hours.” Being dog-tired on a long trip could be a valuable teaching moment for the teenager. If they were staying on the farm or close by, Clay would have just walked away, but he needed Blake to be prepared for the day-long hike ahead of them. Without saying a word, Clay folded his arms and leaned up against the doorway, which sparked a glare from Blake.
“What are you doing?” Blake asked.
“Nothing,” Clay said with a wry smile before adding, “Oh, don’t pay any attention to me…I’m not here.”
“Fine!” Blake sighed with frustration. “Can you give me a minute to say bye? We’re going to be gone for a while, right?”
“Make it quick,” Clay ordered before turning to leave the room.
As he walked into the hallway, Clay heard Kelsey, Megan, and Hawthorne talking in the living room. Hawthorne, as always, was knitting while Kelsey and Megan had their feet propped up on the coffee table, recovering from a long day.
“Hey, baby,” Kelsey said as Clay walked into the room. “You all packed up?”
“Yeah. Just gotta drag Justin Bieber out of the den and then we’ll be heading to bed.”
Kelsey chuckled, Megan rolled her eyes, and Hawthorne looked nearly as confused as Blake and Lona had
been with the Romeo comment. Clay was on a roll.
Kelsey groaned as she got off the couch and walked over to Clay. She gave him a quick kiss and she wrapped her arms around him. “You two be safe out there. I hate that you’re going to be gone again,” she paused for a moment and looked into his eyes, “but I think it’s really good that you’re doing this with him,” she said.
“I’m excited about it, too, actually. It’ll be nice to do some hunting without the never-ending pissing match between Dusty and Geoff.”
“I heard that,” Dusty yelled dryly from upstairs.
“I figured as much, ya blonde-haired bat,” Clay replied.
“Yeah, that was a good one,” Dusty fired back sarcastically.
Clay turned around as he heard footsteps approach the living room. Blake stood at the threshold between the kitchen and living room, sulking. “All right, I’m ready,” he said.
“About time,” Clay said with a smirk. He turned and looked over at Kelsey. “Love you, Kels,” he said before he kissed her again.
“Love you, too. Be safe.”
On their way back to the house, Clay said goodnight to Charles, Dakota, and Bethany, who were playing with Paige and Courtney.
“Be good for Mama,” Clay said as he hoisted Charles up for a hug.
Charles gave his typical response. “Mmmmhmmmm.”
Clay and Blake grabbed a quick meal, then got the rest of their gear together, placing it all by the front door.
“Why do we have to leave so early?” Blake asked dreadfully.
“Because there’s really no good place to camp between here and there. Honestly, we should probably leave even earlier to make sure we get there with enough light left to settle in. In case you were wondering, it really sucks to be caught outside after dark,” Clay said sternly.
“Okay, okay…I get it,” Blake replied in typical teenaged form.
Clay put the last of their gear down by the door and looked it over—everything seemed to be there. “Okay,” he said as he turned to Blake. “There’s a blanket on the couch…” Clay said, pointing across the room.
“Why can’t I sleep in my own bed tonight?
“It’s just easier this way…” Clay said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He slapped Blake on the shoulder as he headed for the stairs.
Chapter 12
“How much further?” Blake asked with a whine in his voice.
Clay looked down at his watch and did some math. Because they were walking through a large, open expanse of land, Clay used the time to approximate how far they had traveled in lieu of landmarks. “Should only be another hour or so.”
A long-winded sigh came from the teenager who lagged behind. Blake was no stranger to physical activity—he worked as hard around the farm as anyone else—but his body wasn’t conditioned to handle a twenty-mile hike in a single day. The march was brutal even for an experienced traveler such as Clay, let alone for Blake. However, the fertile hunting grounds made the long journey worth every step, especially since wild game activity around Northfield had significantly diminished over the last year. Though his family probably wouldn’t starve with what they already had set aside for winter, Clay’s food stores were still on the light side. With the unexpected travels over the past few months and another lost week or so from the upcoming family trip to Liberty, Clay’s open window to fill his freezer was closing. He would have been on this trip regardless, but was happy to turn the necessary journey into an opportunity to spend some time with Blake.
Of course, Clay had ulterior motives for the trip—teaching Blake the importance of having survival skills. Though it was far from an easy life, living on the farm provided a sense of security that Clay never felt back when they lived in the tower. The additional people and the remote location of the property always gave Clay an excuse to shirk his responsibility to teach such things to the boys. But now, for all intents and purposes, Blake had become a man. The world they lived in was no less dangerous than before. In fact, it was quite the opposite as food and supplies became increasingly more difficult to find. It was naïve to think they were untouchable on the farm. At a moment’s notice, the family could be forced to flee, becoming sojourners once again, looking for a place to call home. Any given day might also be Clay’s last—especially with the number of close calls he had experienced as of late. If that day ever came, Clay wanted Blake to be prepared to step up in his absence. More importantly, Blake needed to learn how to be a provider for his own family. Though he had not been very forthcoming about his feelings toward Lona, Clay saw the same twinkle in his eye that he had had when he met Kelsey—the boy was in love. And even though everyone on the farm helped one another out, it’s up to each household to provide for its own people. So, it was time to ensure Blake knew how to do such a thing. Yes, this trip was about bringing home some food, but it was going to be so much more—or that was Clay’s hope, anyway.
“Why didn’t we take the horses again?” Blake asked, winded.
“A little bit of walking won’t hurt us,” Clay said. Walking was just the beginning to Blake’s training. Clay had gone the first ten years of this disaster without a horse. After the gas ran out in his dad’s old pickup, Clay did all his traveling on foot. The horses were a nice luxury, but they were just that—a luxury. And such extravagances, especially now, didn’t last forever. “Besides,” Clay followed up. “I know Michael and Levi were planning to hit up a couple of neighboring towns for some scrap materials, so they need the horses more than us.”
The hazy gray sky had darkened by the time they reached the little cul-de-sac. Though Clay had never encountered another soul there—never even heard a distant Screamer—as soon as they entered the neighborhood, he became much more alert and had his SKS slightly raised. Blake held the KSG-12, though a bit more relaxed than Clay. And each one had a hunting rifle slung over their backs.
The neighborhood was nestled away from the main road, obscured by the hills and trees. The years of weather abuse combined with overgrowth made the turn-off nearly unnoticeable from the main road. It was an urban oasis, and should the day ever come when the family would be forced to leave Northfield, this would be at the top of a very brief list of alternatives.
At the very end of the cul-de-sac was a nice two-story home. Towering trees that went on for miles provided a beautiful backdrop for the modern brick construction. Clay pointed toward the house. “That’s our home for the next few days,” he said quietly.
Blake, excited to finally have the long journey behind him, smiled brightly. “Yes!”
Clay didn’t want to stifle the young man’s excitement, but he held his finger up to his lips. “Shhhhh. We still need to clear the house,” Clay whispered.
“Oh, right. Sorry,” Blake replied softly, reigning in his joy.
“When you’re out in the wild, never let your guard down,” Clay said, nonchalantly sprinkling in survival tips where appropriate. He thought about the words he just spoke, realizing that he needed to be following his own advice more often than he was.
They went around to the back of the house and walked beneath a second-floor deck that overlooked a steep grade of trees that eventually bottomed out at a creek about two hundred yards away.
“Whoa,” Blake murmured as he took the sight in. Though there were hills and trees in Northfield, the young man had not seen anything quite like this before—not since the ash fell, anyway.
Clay walked up to a sliding door—the glass pane was still intact. It had been unlocked when he found the place, so there was never a need to break the window. He looked over at Blake and signaled for him to get his shotgun ready. Blake complied. Wrenching the door to the side, Clay and Blake walked in and began clearing the house. Clay was confident nobody occupied the residence. The undisturbed decoy cans of food he had placed on the counter told him as much. Nevertheless, for the sake of due diligence as well as to teach Blake thoroughness, they cleared each room together.
Once Clay was satisfied the
house was empty, Blake immediately plopped himself down on a couch in the living room, causing a blast of dust to erupt in every direction. After a few coughs, he let out a sigh of relief. Rest at last.
“Oh no,” Clay said sternly. “We’ve still got some work to do.”
“Seriously?” Blake complained.
“Yep. Drop your pack and follow me. Just because the house is empty doesn’t mean it’s secure.”
Blake shadowed Clay around the house as Clay showed him different techniques for noise alarms around entry points. The first was various Christmas ornaments and lightbulbs beneath all of the first-floor windows. The loud popping sounds from ornaments being crushed would provide sufficient sound to alert Clay of any intruders. It was an unintuitive, if not cliché, trap, but effective nonetheless. After that, they set up a few different rigs with tin cans and string around the house. They also made sure the wedge was still snugly nestled beneath the front door. It was.
Upstairs, Clay showed Blake the room they would sleep in. Having been at the house numerous times in the past, Clay had nailed some boards over the windows so he could run a lantern at night without fear of being spotted from afar. Clay turned on his lantern and set it down in the middle of the floor.
By that time, Clay could see Blake’s face was consumed with exhaustion. “All right, we’re done for the night,” Clay said.
“Thank God,” Blake said as he fell back onto one of the twin-sized beds in the room and lay down. Clay did the same and both of them began to drift to sleep. A grumble from Clay’s stomach punched through the silence of the room, reminding them that they hadn’t eaten much all day—certainly not enough to make up for the thousands of calories they burned on the hike.
