Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3
Page 65
She stopped on the third step and put her hands on her narrow hips, looking down in thought, kicking the dust up with her combat boot. These boys were still coping with the loss of their mother; they had been told their dad was in the infirmary but nothing more. “Just tell them the truth,” she finally said to herself. She shook her doubts away, lifted her head, pushed her glasses in place, and closed the gap.
“Hi, Olivia,” she said to Rick’s wife, who was sitting in a chair reading a book. Clarisse was taken aback by the grief apparent on Olivia’s face, but losing Steven was like losing a brother to Rick’s family, and Clarisse had almost forgotten that. “I’m sorry, Olivia,” she said.
“Oh, we all are, Clarisse. It’s so hard, knowing it could be anyone at any minute. We all survived the pandemic and, for a while, we thought that would be it. But it’s not. We’re still vulnerable. It could have easily been Rick. He would have been the one to go on the scouting mission if he hadn’t been shot in the leg the day before. This is never going to end, this feeling that any second my husband will die . . . or my Bethany. Sorry, I’m just still in shock.”
Clarisse walked farther into the darkened tent and could hear what sounded like a cartoon on in the next room. She sat on a chair next to Olivia and placed her hand on her shoulder. “You’re grieving, and all the could haves are normal to feel right now. It’s fear that has saved us all, and it’s fear and determination that will continue to save us. Steven’s loss is a real blow. I don’t know what I’m going to do without him, frankly.” She stared out in silence for a second, remembering the time she had walked in on him playing with the test ferrets like puppies one day, looking up at her with a goofy grin. “God, he used to drive me crazy.” She sniffed and wiped an errant tear from under her glasses.
“I don’t know what we’re going to do,” Clarisse continued. “One thing at a time, I guess. Right now, I’ve got to tell Dalton’s two little boys that their dad isn’t out of the woods yet, and so soon after losing their mom. I’ve got to do this and get back to him. I hope you don’t mind.”
“Of course not. I hope he recovers quickly. We need him,” Olivia said.
“I need him. I know that now. Come talk to me anytime, Olivia. We’re both so busy holding up our own ends that it seems I never get to see you.”
“I’d like that. They’re in Bethany’s tent watching Pocahontas again. I wish we’d packed more movies; that one is driving me nuts. It’s all they ever watch, but I think when things start to get a little uncertain again, the kids want to zone out on what they know, something comforting from the old world,” Olivia chuckled.
“I’ll just chat with them a minute and then head back, if that’s okay.”
“Of course,” Olivia said, turning back to her book.
Clarisse got up and walked nearer to the musical notes coming from the other tent room. When she rounded the corner she saw three children lying on their bellies, propping their little heads up on their hands with their elbows pointed into the vinyl ground.
“Hi guys,” Clarisse said, slipping down to sit beside them. She sat crossed-legged and caressed Kade along his back. All three heads turned in unison and smiled at her, then turned back to the movie.
“Bethany, can you come in here please,” they heard Olivia call from the other room. Bethany scooted up and stepped over the boys while leaving the room.
“Hey, guys. I need to talk to you,” Clarisse said. “Can I have you sit up for a minute?”
Hunter, the older of the two at six, looked up at her, glanced back to the show for a moment, then pulled his eyes away again and sat up. “Is it about Dad?” he asked.
“Yes.”
That got Kade’s attention too, and they both sat up and pulled their legs into the same position as Clarisse’s. She couldn’t help but smile at their sweet faces. She reached over, placing one hand on each of their far shoulders. She smiled reassuringly. The pit of her stomach suddenly turned to stone. “Your d—”
“Is he dead?” Hunter asked, interrupting her words in a deadpan voice. The blow scared Clarisse, and she dropped her hands from their shoulders.
“No—no. He’s coming out of recovery, Hunter.” She suddenly realized, even at six, this young man had seen and been through too much. “He was attacked by a bear,” she said quietly and waited for a reaction.
“Is he okay?” Kade asked. His big eyes teared up while Hunter looked sullen and picked at his boot.
“He’s uncon . . . he’s sleeping right now. I performed surgery to fix him back up. It might take him a long time to get better.”
“Did the bear bite him?” Kade asked.
“Of course it did, Kade,” Hunter said in anger.
Clarisse waited a second to pass before she formulated an answer. “The bear bit his shoulder, and he lost a lot of blood, but he will get better.” Her stomach clenched when she caught herself in this untruth. She didn’t know yet if Dalton would get better, but she couldn’t look into his sons’ eyes and tell them he might die. She had thought she could, but not now.
“Can I see him?” Kade asked in his high-pitched little boy voice.
Clarisse smiled and tried to hold back emotion as she detected resilience in Kade’s voice. “He’s not ready yet for visitors, but I will come and get you as soon as he is. Okay?”
Kade nodded and Hunter mumbled, “He’s probably gonna die, anyway, just like Mom.”
“Don’t say that, Hunter!” Kade yelled, and he began to weep.
“Don’t cry, Kade. It’s all right,” Clarisse said. She slid him onto her lap and hugged him. She kissed the top of his head, which smelled like little boy sweat as he leaned into her. “Let me tell you both something. Your dad is not going to die. But even if he did, you know that Rick and I would always take care of you.” She laid her right hand on Hunter’s knee. “You’ll never be alone. I promise you that.”
Clarisse knew that she hadn’t told the whole truth, but she also knew she would try her hardest to have Dalton survive this, no matter what. These boys needed their father, and she was going to do everything she could to make sure they kept him.
“Do you understand, Hunter?” she asked the sullen boy.
He grimaced, but flashed her his sad eyes and agreed.
She held Kade tightly and then kissed him again. “I’ve got to get back to your dad now. I’ll check on you guys later and bring you any news. Okay?”
They nodded, and she slid the youngest child off her lap and stood up. Both boys returned to their previous positions on their bellies to watch the screen and zone out once again. With the hardships of their current reality, she hoped they’d gain some peace in an imaginary one.
Clarisse stopped the door flap before exiting and remembered her promise to them. She wiped the moisture from her eyes on the way out and waved good-bye to Olivia and Bethany on her way back to the infirmary, hoping she’d done the right thing.
Chapter 33 Shooting the Breeze
“Where’ve you been, Sam?” Reuben asked as Sam appeared in the media tent for his turn on watch, only a few minutes late.
“I got a little sidetracked on the way,” Sam said, and Graham waited for the reason, but Sam didn’t offer one. Instead, he was busy bringing in what looked like spools of drab-green paracord on sticks of various sizes, as well as a hatchet.
“So, you’re on watch now. I’ll go relieve the guard for dinner,” Reuben said.
“I can take a turn too, Reuben,” Graham said.
“We need you here until Rick’s back. We need two people as runner and listener in case we hear or see something on camera,” Reuben explained.
Graham agreed with that logic, and then Sam said, “Hey, Reuben before you leave, make sure McCann and Macy are back by dark. If they’re not, let me know.”
“Where’d McCann go?” Graham asked as Sam unrolled large lengths of the paracord on the ground between his knees.
“He’s on a mission. He’s fine. Guy’s gotta do what a guy’s gotta do.�
�� Sam pulled out his pocket knife and cut off a precise length of cord, tying a knot on the opened end.
“Gotcha. Graham said, snickering and let it lie, knowing what McCann was up to but concerned about his condition all the same. What are you making?”
“Traps,” Sam said, but nothing more.
“Wait, is McCann mounted?” Reuben called from the door.
“Yeah. He’s mounted,” Sam said, and Reuben left to resume his other duties.
After Reuben left, Sam said, “I don’t envy you. Two daughters . . .” He looked up at Graham and shook his head as if the condition were the worst plague ever imagined.
“Yeah, but this is nothing.” He watched Sam cut off two more lengths of cording about the same length of the first. “At least they aren’t fighting right now. That drives me crazy. Tala’s good with them, though.”
“How’s she getting along with the move? Sorry we had to pull you guys over here, but it’s for the best,” Sam said with a strand in his mouth.
“She’s a trooper. She’s got everything worked out. Nothing rattles her too much . . . except for the idea of me getting killed, that is,” Graham admitted.
“Yeah, losing Steven has been a real blow, and having Dalton this far gone really has us at a disadvantage. He’ll come through it though—out of pure will if nothing else. He won’t leave those boys if he can help it.” Sam laid the paracord lengths to the side to pick up the hatchet and a sturdy V-shaped stick. He started to cut a notch below the V.
Graham got the intensity of Sam’s statement, but he still worried about Dalton as their leader. With Rick compromised over the loss of Steven, this group would go astray without Dalton’s leadership. They had the tactical power to fight off a large group, but being short on men had them at a disadvantage. Graham scanned the cameras again while Sam worked on what he could only guess was a snare of some kind.
“What’s the contingency, Sam? If we hear from them, that is.”
“Depends on what they do and how close they get,” Sam said. “If they track us here, we’ve got to fight them and run for it. We’ve got the vehicles with provisions all ready and a route planned north to bug out. We’re hidden here, but not that well hidden. It’s a matter of time. We’ve got to go after them before they discover us. Right now, we’re sitting ducks. That’s not a good position to be in.”
“Have you ever been a police officer or a soldier, Sam?”
“No, but I’ve fought man, bear, and beasts of all kinds in my time. I’d count these guys in the beasts category. No man would ever be this vile. These are too far gone for redemption. They must be exterminated like the scum they are.” Then he sunk the hatchet into the notch he’d just created.
Graham had never heard Sam speak more than a few sentences strung together. This kind of thinking was still new to Graham, but he had to agree. They needed to fight back and fast, but the problem was that they didn’t know how widespread the invaders were. They could have been pouring into Texas and the southern borders all this time.
“I’m on board one hundred percent, Sam,” Graham said.
Graham checked the cameras again in detail. The center of Cascade looked clear aside from a herd of deer munching on new spring growth near the post office.
“Did McCann look like he was stable enough to ride on his horse?” Graham asked after a moment. He watched as Sam formulated an opinion while working on the second stick. “No, but he knows what he’s doing. My mother would say that boy is touched with an old soul. I wouldn’t worry about that one. Mark and Marcy, on the other hand, are going to make you a pops before too long.”
“Don’t say that, man,” Graham pleaded, holding up his hand. “I don’t know what to do with those two.”
“Nothing you can do. Nature tells them what to do, what’s needed. Right now there’s a need for more babies in the world. Problem is, we’re still fighting the enemy. We’re not safe yet.”
Amid the surveillance camera equipment, both of their heads popped up from their tasks as the occasional repeaters operated—now with an eerie human voice erupting over the waves. Their eyes met. It was a voice of normality from the past stating the frequency and call of the programmed repeaters, still announcing its duty in a world with few men left to care about it. It teased them. Sam shook his head in fervent hatred and Graham nodded, looking past him in resigned agreement.
Chapter 34 Young Love
It was the forest again. Her smell lingered among the shadowed pines. Once he entered, the sunset glimmered through the high trees alerting McCann to the time; too few minutes remained before it would set. He gently called to her, “Maaacy.”
Only silence filled the air, leaving it bereft of her. McCann tempted her with another soft call. The drugs were impairing his senses, but he felt her here, he knew her presence.
Then a chance sunset ray caught a strand of her golden hair behind a tree trunk. He searched further and found her peeking out at him with one blue eye.
“Macy.”
“What are you doing here?” she said.
“Looking for you.”
She leaned out from the tree, using one hand for leverage to look at him wholly. “You’re crazy,” she said, somewhat flattered that McCann had come looking for her in his condition.
“Come, Macy. Don’t make me get down. I don’t know if I’ll be able to get back up,” he admitted, holding his right arm out for her as if she’d obey him that easily.
“I want to go home. Not there,” she complained.
“It is our home for now. It’s safer, Macy. Come here, please,” he coaxed further.
She shot behind the tree again and out of sight.
“Dammit, Macy. Come here,” he said, swaying in his saddle, his head spinning while he looked for her in the dimming light.
“Go back, McCann. I’ll come in later. When I want to.”
He got more frustrated; light was sinking farther down through the pines. Her voice seemed to be moving around him.
“Macy, please, come to me,” he pleaded, knowing the stern voice would never do with her. He waited, hoping she’d have mercy on him. He closed his eyes to the dusk and tried to listen for her. Moments passed and no alert came to him. He took a deep breath, knowing he’d have to dismount to find her. He blew the breath out with control, steadily, needing to pull as much patience from the act as possible.
“Okay, I’m coming for you,” he said in final resignation, lifting his boot to dismount. A light grasp on his thigh shocked him through. Macy’s blue eyes pierced McCann with what little golden flickers remained of the descending sun. He gave her his right arm, steady and strong. She embraced it and used her knee as leverage against the horse’s side as he pulled her up and settled her in front of him in the saddle.
“You should probably drive, sneaky,” he said. He handed her the reigns, and then wrapped his arm around her waist and whispered into the back of her neck, “Don’t worry, Macy. I’d never leave you.”
Chapter 35 Come to Me
Dalton’s chest rose and fell with a cadence that Rick’s own breathing began to emulate. “Come on, Dalton. Wake up, man. I’ve got crap to do.”
Rick tossed his hat a few more times, letting the circumference loop through his hands while he stared down between his knees. The silence, interrupted only by mechanical beeping, was driving him nuts. “Seriously, a lot of shit is going on, man. I’m not sure we can do this without you.” He slid his hand over his own tired face, the skin still rough and calloused from the work of grave digging.
“How’s he doing?” Clarisse asked, startling Rick as she entered the room. “Any changes?”
“No. No, I don’t think so.”
“It’s okay. You can get back now. I’ve told the boys.”
“How’d they take the news?” he asked her.
Clarisse ran her hand over her smooth hair, making sure it was still in place. “I wanted to tell them the truth. I wanted to let them know the reality that he could still die.” Re
membering, she broke eye contact with Rick and looked down at the ground, shaking her head. “I couldn’t do it. He’s got to pull through this. He has no choice.”
“He will, Clarisse,” Rick said. “Yes, he has no fucking choice. Hear that, asshole?” Rick directed the message at Dalton’s sleeping form, then stood and stretched.
“You should go get some sleep, Rick.”
“Can’t. No rest for the wicked, and I’m going to be very fucking wicked here soon,” he said as he departed the tent into the evening air.
Clarisse watched him go, and felt a menacing tingle; every hair on her arms and neck stood on end. Rick was a man renowned of many unique talents. Now he was a man hell-bent on brutal annihilation, and with his mind working on the demise of another, she thought, hell hath no mercy for those on the wrong side of vengeance.
She shrugged off the prickles and focused on Dalton again. Scanning every machine connected to the man she loved, she was relieved that there were no changes indicating a setback of any kind. She needed to wake him now to find out if there would be any further emergencies as he gained consciousness.
Leaving Dalton’s side, she walked over to close the tent flap door for privacy and then removed her glasses. “Okay, sweetheart. Time to come back to me.”
A white sheet was tucked at Dalton’s waistline, and Clarisse pulled it slowly down to his ankles, accessing the broken body before her and taking in the unbroken parts of him that she loved so much. She ran her hand, lightly and slowly, to the inside of his hairy, muscular thigh. She couldn’t think of a better way of waking him from such a deep sleep than kissing him lightly on the lips and massaging him where she knew he loved her touch. She carefully avoided the torn shoulder, moving her other hand to his dark-blond locks and gently weaving them through her fingers.
Dalton’s right hand flinched in her peripheral view after a moment, and she turned her head to the side to glance at the EKG machine, where the needle showed a slight increase in heart rate.