Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3

by A. R. Shaw

  “We’ll be right back. Hoot if you see anyone else, okay?”

  Graham was impressed with McCann’s diplomacy. He knew it was likely that Mark would become jealous of McCann’s new foreman role in the group, especially since McCann was only a little older. What surprised Graham was that McCann also had the ability to recognize how his own dynamic in the group could alter Mark’s position and cause conflict, something they all wished to avoid.

  Instead, McCann took Mark on as equal and deferred decisions to him often to show him he wasn’t a threat; for good measure, he never laid eyes on Marcy either. Her indignant nature didn’t interest him, anyway, so that wasn’t a problem.

  Everyone but Macy knew she was the girl for him. McCann would wait for her to grow up. She was only sixteen, and he twenty—not a great gap in age at world’s end. Graham had pointed out her young age only once, but he hadn’t needed to; McCann had her honor in regard, and Graham knew he could trust him with her.

  Graham noticed that Macy rejected even sitting next to McCann at the kitchen table, however. He kept his eye on the situation from afar. As much as he’d come to love Mark, he also enjoyed having McCann there at the camp; if McCann and Macy found their way to one another, that would be fine. She meant the world to everyone. She was a tough girl with a heart of gold, and Graham was thankful that McCann could see that and seemed to be biding his time.

  As Graham and McCann ambled through the dark thicket of pines, the glow of the distant fire grew brighter. Graham raised his leather-gloved hand to stop their movement. Inching any closer would only alert the stranger he’d seen bending over the fire with a branch to adjust the logs. Highlighted by the fire’s glow was a young woman sitting on his opposite side. She looked to be no more than twenty or so and was taking stringy bites off a chunk of jerky. McCann sucked in his breath when he saw her toss a bit of the meat. They hadn’t noticed the two dogs, camouflaged by a fur blanket wrapped around the woman.

  The fire stirrer moved, and when he did Graham caught a reflective glow off his previously obscured lower limb. Where his leg should have been, there was a prosthesis, but it didn’t seem to hinder the man in the least.

  Graham worried about the dogs detecting their position if they stayed any longer, so he motioned to McCann to back up. He took one last look at the newcomers’ camp and all seemed well. Having rifles within reach, a loaded wagon, and an army truck was relatively normal these days. In fact, he’d have been surprised if they were not that geared up.

  After they had returned to Mark, Graham spoke a hair above a whisper to both young men. “They’re probably passing through. He may have had problems with wolves or wild dogs earlier when we heard the shots. We’ll let Dalton’s group know in the morning, and see what’s up with them. At least we know the location; we can come back in the morning and see if they’ve left.”

  “Shouldn’t we keep watch?” McCann said.

  “No. I don’t see any trouble with these two unless we startle them. I say we let them mind their own business. They don’t know we’re here, and they don’t need any help, by the looks of things. They’re well provisioned, and the girl seems to be there of her own free will.”

  McCann nodded in agreement and they headed back to camp.

  ~ ~ ~

  “We have to stay off the radios,” Macy said as Graham and the others walked through the door.

  “Why?” he said, taking off his muddy boots and jacket.

  “Rick said to. I’m not sure why. He sounded pretty serious. No one is to use the radios at all; not even the walkies.”

  “Okay. I’m sure they have their reasons. We’ll wait and see what’s up.”

  “We found a camp, though,” Mark relayed. “Maybe they know the radio frequency we use and they’re monitoring everything we say. I’ll bet that’s why Rick wants us to stay off the waves.”

  “They didn’t appear to be dangerous, but yeah, we should stay off the air, then. We don’t know who they are yet,” McCann said.

  Graham moved his stiff leg, trying to stretch out some of the tight muscles that the cold had caused. Tala approached, and she wasn’t smiling; worry lines creased the bridge of her nose between her eyes. Graham embraced her and said, “I’m sure it’s nothing; just a precaution. Dalton will probably be here at first light. We saw the newcomers at a distance. It appears to be a man and a woman with two dogs and a few horses. They seemed well provisioned; I don’t think they’re trouble.”

  “Did they see you?” Tala asked.

  “No. I don’t think so,” Graham said.

  “Good. Come and have dinner—all of you,” she said, leading the way.

  The table was set, and they could smell the aroma of fresh bread. What Graham thought might be navy bean soup sat alongside a fresh salad of spring greens. They couldn’t get enough greens after having to endure nothing but canned vegetables for far too long.

  With everyone seated, McCann asked, “Where’s Sheriff?”

  “He’s watching the chickens,” Bang answered.

  “Uh . . . you’re sure that’s a good idea?” Graham asked.

  “He seems to like them. He doesn’t try to go after them. He thinks they’re pets, too.”

  “Okay. Let’s make sure we let him out after dinner then,” Graham said as more than one suppressed chuckle came from around the table. He didn’t want to dash Bang’s authority, but he was certain that if Sheriff got hungry enough, he’d eat one of their new feathery pets pretty quickly.

  “This is great soup, Tala,” Graham said, appreciating how it chased the damp chill away from him.

  “Don’t thank me. McCann started the beans this morning and then Macy finished it this evening,” Tala informed him.

  Graham looked down the table at McCann. “Man of many talents, I see,” he said and raised his spoon in tribute.

  “Hey, that’s about my limit with cooking. Macy said she didn’t think it was right that the women did all the cooking and cleaning and I agreed. I’m happy to cook once a week. I think we should all take turns,” McCann said, hoping for Macy’s approval, but by the straight face she was using he wasn’t sure if she appreciated his efforts or not.

  “Hold on,” Marcy said. “Mark’s a terrible cook. I don’t want him in the kitchen. When Tala was recovering at the prepper camp, he made us Vienna sausages with peanut butter and ranch dressing on the side,” she shuddered at the memory. “It was horrible.”

  They all laughed, and McCann defended him by saying, “Hey now, at least he made something.”

  “He can make fried egg sandwiches,” Bang said. “They’re pretty good.”

  Mark held up his hands. “Thank you, Bang. I’m fine being restricted from cooking. It’s not my talent, anyway. I sure appreciate Tala’s cooking, though.”

  They all agreed and, like most evenings, they ate together and only spoke when they needed to. They were all too engrossed in their own thoughts concerning the radio silence and newcomers to engage in routine planning. Once they finished, everyone pitched in to clean up. Then they bedded down for the evening and hoped to sleep through the night before the next day’s challenge began.

  With the new addition, Graham and Tala’s separate bedroom became their private haven, away from the other residents. Still, when he and Tala had first begun sleeping in their own room together, he complained when she kept the door open a crack to hear the others. Then, when they’d tried to sleep with it completely closed, he just couldn’t take the silence and ended up getting up in the middle of the night to check on everyone. Graham finally succumbed to leaving the door open a crack to hear the other snores he’d come so accustomed to. Those peaceful snores meant his new family’s well-being throughout the night.

  Chapter 7 By the Campfire

  Dutch winked at the girl who called herself Liza. He did it to calm her nerves when she darted her eyes at him as she reached for her shotgun beneath her coat. The residents were casing them nearby. With a silent hand motion to the dogs Elsa and Frank
, he stayed them in their place. Despite their instincts, they didn’t as much as whine upon hearing horses approach at a distance.

  He carefully handed Liza the jerky, and she followed his example to keep all motions open and easy. Dutch’s eyes implored her to remain calm and not act out of fear lest she could get them killed.

  When he thought the observers had passed after having made their assessments, he heard their retreat through the woods. He wasn’t certain if anyone remained behind to watch them, but he didn’t think so. All of his prior radio surveillance told him these people were good; they were surviving and seemed to be able to help others. Although admirable in their actions, Dutch was here to tell them to quit it, or they were going to get themselves killed.

  His plan was to warn them, hand over the girl, and head north by himself. He didn’t plan to stick around and make friends with these people.

  As he sat next to Liza the crickets resumed their chirping, so he figured the watchers were long gone. Liza stared into the fire with glazed-over eyes. In Dutch’s estimation she’d done pretty well today but he didn’t want her to get too attached to him, just trust him enough not to flinch every time he came near her.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and bed down in the truck cab tonight? I’ll sleep under the wagon.”

  She merely nodded and hustled through the cold night to the truck with a fur skin wrapped around her shoulders to protect her from the chill of the spring night. While he stirred the hot embers of the fire, Dutch heard the soft click of the cab door as Liza closed it with care.

  The night was starry and the moon only a crescent. The troubled nation they once had was rambling around in Dutch’s mind. The wars, religion, and simple call for equality had brought man back to the same place where he had begun—staring up at the stars with a stick in his hand and fire beneath him. Man was nothing more and nothing less than an animal with the ability to start a fire, and that made him perilous to all other creatures, but especially his fellow man.

  Dutch saw no way to stop those to the south who’d take your head from your shoulders. Not believing in their ways meant death; Christ, they’d killed most of humankind, and with so few left to fight them now, all seemed lost. Perhaps he could find a place to live out his days while the planet succumbed to savages with sticks.

  Chapter 8 A Story of Fire

  At dawn, Graham woke to the sound of Tala speaking in the other room. She was telling a story; he could tell by the timbre and cadence of her voice. The bedroom was darker than usual, and when he finally opened his eyes, only a soft gray light filtered in through the window.

  He brushed a hand down his face and threw back the covers. In his boxer shorts and a T-shirt, he sat up and grabbed his jeans. It was a new day, and he suspected this one would come with a twist following the events of the day before.

  He ambled into the kitchen, brushed his hand across the top of Bang’s head, and smiled at Tala, who sat at the table recounting more of the Indian folklore she’d grown up with as a child. He headed to get his coffee and then joined her at the table.

  “You’ve heard the one about Fire, right?” Tala asked.

  Bang shook his head no.

  “Long ago, Bear owned Fire, and Fire kept Bear warm throughout the year and lit his way in the dark of night. One day Bear set Fire down when he came to a great forest where acorns were scattered on the ground. Bear wandered into the forest farther and farther away from Fire as he found more and more acorns, until Fire was nearly extinguished.

  “Man walked by, and the small flame of Fire begged Man to feed it, for it was nearly extinguished altogether. Man gave Fire a stick, which he placed to the north of him. Fire consumed this and grew bright. Then man set another stick to the west, and Fire grew even stronger. Man gave yet another stick, placing this one to the south of Fire, and then finally another that he set to the east. This caused Fire to burn strong, orange flames that flickered and snapped with delight. By now, Fire blazed mightily and was very pleased to have Man as a friend.

  “Then one day, Bear came back to the edge of the forest, and when Fire saw Bear, he was very angry and burned white-hot. He remembered Bear was not a good friend. So he drove Bear back into the dark forest, where he now, ever after, must sleep through the winter to stay warm. And now Man owns Fire.”

  Graham nodded and sipped his coffee. He thought the tale was kind of an intense topic for first thing in the morning, and Bang looked shocked and upset.

  “What, Buddy?” Graham asked him gently.

  “So, does that mean Bear hates man for taking Fire away from him?”

  Tala looked at Graham as if to say, This one is all yours, and she went into the bathroom without another word.

  “No, Bang, Graham said. “It means Bear is a lousy friend. And Fire has a bad attitude.”

  “What about Man?” Bang asked.

  “It wasn’t Man’s fault at all. He just walked by and helped Fire.”

  “Yeah, but now Bear is going to be mad at Man.”

  “Should we not help someone in need if someone else is going to be mad at us?”

  Then Graham was struck with an idea to help Bang finally understand. He might not ever have this opportunity again to get through to the boy an idea that might help him understand he had no culpability in Addy’s accident. He reached across the table and grasped Bang’s hands to have his full attention. “Just like you helped Addy that day, Bang. No one blames you for Addy’s hearing loss. You helped her when she needed it. You saved her life, Bang.”

  The boy visibly swallowed and blinked his eyes. His chin began to quiver and tears ran down his cheeks. Graham guided him around the table and hugged him tightly until his own shirt was soaked with the tearful regrets of the little boy.

  ~ ~ ~

  A pair of headlights gleaming through the gray rainy day appeared in the front window. Graham saw two shadowed figures hasten toward the front door of the cabin, so he ushered Bang off into the bunkroom as Tala emerged from the bathroom.

  “The guys are here,” he said as he went to open the door, his voice still hoarse from the lack of warming coffee.

  “I’ll grab some towels; they’re probably soaked through from this rain,” Tala said.

  “Looks like they drove the Jeep, so don’t worry.” Graham waited for their clomping, mud-releasing steps on the porch before he swung open the door, intent on holding the heat in as long as possible.

  “Hey there. Morning,” Graham said.

  Dalton only nodded in a somber way, but Rick grinned as always and returned with, “What are you guys doing on this fine, rainy spring day?”

  “We had enough sense to stay dry—unlike the two of you,” Graham answered. “You guys want some coffee?” As he led them into the dining area, Tala had already set a second pot on and brought out the coveted sugar cookies from their hiding spot.

  “Something tells me you guys aren’t here for treats,” Graham said.

  “Where’s the rest of the crew?” Dalton asked.

  “They are either at your camp, in the fields, or in the barn doing their chores. Bang is still here, but he’s busy in the other room,” Tala said.

  Dalton nodded, “We need to talk about the shots we heard yesterday.”

  “Okay, I know that Macy said to stay off all radio frequencies, so I didn’t call it in, but last night the boys and I found a campsite.”

  Dalton sat down at the dining table. “Did you talk to them?”

  “No. No, we didn’t approach them; we just observed them from afar. From what I could tell, it’s one young lady—about twenty or so—and one man.”

  “Provisions?” Rick asked.

  “Oh, yeah; they’re driving an army truck and pulling a wagon, horses . . . two dogs, too.”

  “Armed?” Rick asked.

  Graham tried to remember the scene as it lay out beside the fire. “Yes, the lady had a shotgun nearby and one leaned against the tailgate of the truck. The man had a pistol around his waist, too.”


  “He didn’t detect you? The dogs weren’t alerted?” Dalton said.

  “No. I don’t think so. We were a safe distance away.”

  “Were they talking? Did you get any idea of their names?” Rick asked.

  “No. The girl seemed to be there of her own free will, but they didn’t talk much. The dogs didn’t stir.” Graham took a sip of his coffee and observed the two men over the rim of his cup. Dalton’s jaw clenched up and down as he digested the news, and Rick stared off into space.

  “Okay, what’s up, guys?” Graham finally asked.

  Dalton looked up at him and then looked over to Rick.

  Rick began. “Well, after you guys ran off to see who the shooter was, I tuned to the local HF band. Seems someone is out to warn us to stop all transmissions. A guy named Dutch sent us a Morse code message warning us that there are . . . um . . . Headhunters to the south of us.”

  Graham had begun to lift his coffee again, but then set it down abruptly, causing the liquid to slosh out and create a small puddle of brown liquid on the table.

  “Headhunters?” he asked, purposely hushed.

  Dalton looked to see that Tala was out of the room; he didn’t want to scare her, but soon all of them would have to know.

  “If this guy is right, it means we’re being invaded. It means our old enemy is responsible for vast genocide and they’re here now to finish the job.”

  Graham sat back, digesting the theory. “You think the guy we saw last night is this Dutch fella?”

  “Yeah,” Rick said.

  “And if what he says is true, we have a fight on our hands. A big one,” Dalton added.

  “Well, wait a minute,” Graham said. “We’re just now living. We’ve all been through hell and back, and things are finally starting to work out. It’s only Tala and me with a bunch of kids here. Hell, we’ve got a baby on the way, Dalton,” he said, surprised at the anger in his voice.