Surviving The End (Book 2): Fallen World

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Surviving The End (Book 2): Fallen World Page 3

by Hamilton, Grace


  “Shane, I hate to bring it up,” Beth said, leaning in close to avoid being overheard. Violet was sitting nearby, and she had unusually good hearing. Still, Beth hoped that wouldn’t matter. “Is Corbin planning on staying with us permanently? I don’t know the kid all that well, and I can’t quite figure him out.”

  Shane hesitated a moment before answering, glancing over at Violet. “I haven’t thought it through,” he said, finally. “The kid has nowhere else to go. So far, he’s mostly been helpful, but…” He eased away from Violet, beckoning Beth to follow him before finishing his sentence. “You’re right. We don’t know him all that well. I won’t keep him around if he becomes a problem. Do you feel comfortable giving him a chance?”

  Beth nodded. “I suppose so. Let’s keep a close eye on him. Don’t wait until it’s too late. If you see any warning signs, let me know.”

  “Yeah,” he agreed. “We’ll keep a close eye on him before we decide whether or not he’s a permanent addition to the group.”

  “Good idea.”

  Beth looked at Violet and saw that she was hugging Ruby and scowling.

  3

  Shane walked the perimeter of Beth’s half-acre property three times, Corbin nipping at his heels. He made notes in a small notebook he’d borrowed from Beth, trying to compile a list of items they would need to fortify the property. It was hard to concentrate. He kept thinking about Jodi. She still hadn’t arrived, and he had no way to contact her now. What could be holding her up? He tried not to consider worst-case scenarios, but he knew eventually he would have to go looking for her. He wouldn’t sit at the house as days went by without any sign of her.

  “The fence should go around the front yard, too,” Corbin said, pointing along the front edge of the property. “It’s better if people can’t approach the house from any direction. Don’t you think so?”

  “Yeah, I think so,” Shane replied. “Not sure how Beth will feel about it. She might feel sort of closed in, but I don’t think she’ll refuse. Let’s head into town and pick up what we need. The fence only needs to be sturdy, not pretty.”

  After informing Beth, they got in the van and headed into town. Shane and Corbin had unloaded all the buckets and boxes of supplies, so they had plenty of room to bring back what they needed. Shane also had plenty of cash, most of it from Corbin’s mother. He felt the bulge of bills in his pocket.

  We can’t send the kid packing, he thought, replaying his conversation with Beth. Hasn’t he earned his keep already?

  Corbin seemed particularly energized by the home fortification project, and he kept sharing ideas as they drove into town.

  “What if we hung some windchimes or bells on the front gate?” he said. “That way, we’d have plenty of warning if somebody comes onto the property.”

  “Not a bad idea,” Shane replied.

  When they got into town, they found most businesses shuttered. A few places seemed to have been looted, the windows smashed and merchandise strewn about the parking lots. Finally, after a bit of driving around, Shane spotted a small home supply store that was open. Four security guards were posted by the front door; the business was clearly taking no chances.

  The parking lot was only about half full, so Shane parked close. However, when they went inside, passing between the pointed stares of the unhappy guards, they found the small store overrun with customers. People jostled each other in every aisle, picking over the shelves like sale-crazed shoppers on Black Friday. Corbin managed to find an unused flatbed cart, and they inched their way down the lumber aisle, grabbing a mishmash of boards and posts—enough to make a fence around the front yard, though it wouldn’t look nice. Shane knew he already had the tools he needed—he’d brought them from Landon’s house—but he loaded up on nails and screws and selected some gate hinges and latches. He also grabbed a sturdy post-hole digger to make the job easier.

  As they worked their way to the front of the store, Corbin pointed out a small display of windchimes. Shane grabbed a couple of small brass windchimes. The kid did have good ideas, he had to admit. In fact, other than his crazy mother, he’d been nothing but beneficial. Checking out took a long time, even though every cash register was manned. It didn’t help that the cashiers were using calculators to add up purchases and handwriting receipts. Shane and Corbin got not a single friendly word from their cashier, just a sullen look and a hastily-scrawled, illegible receipt.

  As they wheeled the overflowing cart to the van, they got another round of unhappy stares from the guards. Loading up took a while, as they had to stack all the wood just right to make it fit in the van.

  When they arrived back at Beth’s house, she met them in the driveway. As soon as Shane opened the back door of the van, she gasped at the enormous pile of lumber piled almost to the roof.

  “What the heck are you boys planning on building?” she asked.

  Shane pulled the small notebook out of his shirt pocket and showed her a rough sketch he’d done of a fence encircling the front yard.

  “I need enough to connect the back fence to the front,” he explained. “It’ll follow the edge of the property all the way around. We’ll need to install gates for the driveway and the mailbox. We got hinges and a couple of latches for that. Corbin had the idea of hanging windchimes on the gates, so we can hear if someone opens them.”

  “Is all of that really necessary?” she asked. “I thought you were just going to reinforce the back fence.”

  “People aren’t always going to be so calm and neighborly,” Shane said. Had she already forgotten the lesson of Greg and Travis? He didn’t think so, but he knew her well enough to know she wouldn’t connect the Eddies boys to the bigger picture. The world was full of Eddies boys, now more than ever. “We want to anticipate problems before they happen.”

  “You’re turning my house into a fortress,” she said.

  “Yeah, that’s the idea.”

  “Well, I’m sorry it’s come to that,” Beth replied, shaking her head. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s what we need to do. I don’t have to like it, but I won’t try to stop it.”

  “Thanks.”

  Shane and Corbin proceeded to unload the lumber and stack it beside the garage door. As they were doing that, Shane noticed a woman step out of a house across the street and begin approaching them. It looked like she’d been wearing the same gray t-shirt and sweatpants since the event—they were both stained and wrinkled. She had a big poof of gray hair above a high forehead, her eyes rimmed in too much mascara. As Shane watched, she shuffled down her sidewalk in pink slippers and crossed the street, moving with purpose.

  Expecting her to confront him about the fortification project, he turned to meet the neighbor, but she ignored him and went to the front door instead. Beth met her at the door, and they chatted for a while as Shane and Corbin finished unloading the van. As he closed and locked the van, he saw Beth hand the woman a small cardboard box full of canned food. The neighbor thanked her and promptly headed back across the street.

  Shane waited until she was back inside her own house before he went to find Beth. She was just shutting the cupboard, and she glanced at him, reading the look on his face, as she said, “Just helping a neighbor in need. Her name is Nora. She’s lived across the street for years.”

  “You should be careful with our supplies,” he said, pointing at the enormous stack of buckets that filled the laundry room beside the kitchen. “We can’t help everyone.”

  “We can’t help everyone,” Beth agreed, with a disapproving scowl, “but we can help some people. Nora lives all alone these days. It won’t kill us to give her a little food.”

  “Remember, our supplies will probably have to meet our needs for a long time,” Shane said.

  “I know, Shane. I know that very well.”

  “It’s just that…we didn’t accumulate all that stuff to give it away to strangers.”

  She stepped past him and opened the door to the basement. “Let’s not forget who spent years
planning and preparing for our current crisis, Shane. Come here. I want you to see what I’ve managed to achieve, and I did it with very little support from anyone.” She grabbed a flashlight from a shelf just inside the door, clicked it on, and beckoned him to follow.

  “I know,” he said. “You worked hard, even when Mitch didn’t approve.”

  “Not just Mitch,” she said. “Everyone thought I was off my rocker when I put in the subbasement. Where would we be if I had listened to them? Do me the favor of at least taking a look at my accomplishment.”

  “Very well.”

  Shane had never actually seen her supply room. Though he realized he was in the midst of being scolded, and his anxiety about Jodi made him want to argue, he followed her downstairs. He was surprised to find that the basement was mostly empty, a big carpeted room with a few shelves of tools. But Beth walked all the way to the far corner and knelt down, grabbing a corner of the carpet. She pulled the carpet back to reveal a hidden door beneath. As she pulled it open, she beckoned him closer with the flashlight.

  Fighting an urge to grumble, he approached and bent down to get a good look into the subbasement. Steps led down into a plastic-lined room filled to the brim with cans and containers of all sizes. She had a clipboard hanging from a nail near the door, where she’d scribbled line after line of tiny print. Beth moved the flashlight beam slowly across the shelves, letting him see the breathtaking accumulation of items she had filled the space with. Only a narrow aisle down the center remained.

  Beth started down the steps and motioned for him to follow.

  Okay, I get it, he wanted to say. Your point is clear.

  He followed her anyway. The subbasement was cool and dry, and he wondered how she regulated the air quality so precisely. She snagged the clipboard off the nail in passing and handed it to him.

  “I just wanted you to see it,” she said, moving down the aisle. “I did all of this single-handedly. What do you think?”

  Shane flipped through the clipboard and saw page after page of meticulous supply lists, each item dated and given a specific shelf location. By the look of it, Beth had recently added a bunch of canned vegetables to the list. How many years, and how much money, had she spent to put all this together? He couldn’t imagine. It put Landon’s hard work to shame.

  “It’s impressive,” he said, “and it might just save our family. I’m glad you didn’t listen to the doubters.”

  “We can last for years on what I’ve got down here,” she said. “We could be generous with neighbors and still last for years.”

  “Yeah, I can see that,” Shane said, putting the clipboard back on its nail. “How much did all of this cost?”

  Beth hesitated a moment before answering, a brief sad look crossing her face. “I spent every dime of the life insurance money that Mitch left me, every dime, along with a big chunk of my IRA.” She swept the flashlight beam over the shelves again. “But it was worth it.”

  “Under the circumstances, I have to agree,” he said. “Still, if your neighbors find out about this, your stash is going to disappear a lot quicker. You’ll have a line of people at your front door every morning, especially once the grocery store shelves are empty.”

  She seemed to carefully weigh her response, the tip of her tongue flicking against a small scab on her upper lip. “I’m going to continue to help my friends and neighbors, if I can,” she said, finally, in a flat voice. “We’ll have to agree to disagree about that. If it’s any consolation, I won’t touch the food you brought.”

  Somewhat reluctantly, Shane nodded. “Fair enough, but don’t let them know how much you’ve got down here. Greed makes people do stupid things.”

  “I know. Believe me, I know.”

  What was the point of arguing about it? Beth was being naïve, but it was her stash after all. She’d spent her own time and money to fill the subbasement, and she could do with it what she wanted. Shane had no authority to impose rules on how she distributed it.

  He turned and mounted the stairs, moving from the basement back into the kitchen. He didn’t want to talk about the food anymore, not when Jodi was foremost on his mind. Why hadn’t she arrived yet? He began worrying about this all over again when Beth grabbed his wrist in passing and pulled him toward the dining room. He let himself be drawn outside.

  “Now, look at that,” Beth said, gesturing toward the garden. Though she’d harvested all of the ripe vegetables, it was still lush and green, and Shane saw that more vegetables were already being produced. “My garden is thriving. I’ve built it up over many seasons. It will supplement what I’ve got down below and what you brought in the van. We’re going to be just fine, Shane. Can’t you see that? I prepared for this.”

  “I get it,” Shane said, gently extracting his wrist from her grasp. “You’ve made your point.”

  “I know a little about gardening,” someone new said. “I kind of enjoy it, actually.”

  The new voice startled Shane, and he turned to see Corbin coming through the sliding door.

  “What don’t you know about?” Shane asked.

  This question seemed to confuse Corbin. “I used to live on a homestead in Montana with my dad. He taught me how to garden, hunt, how to can vegetables, all kinds of stuff. We even rigged up solar panels on top of the cabin so we could live off the land. My dad was really into that kind of rugged lifestyle. I didn’t mind. It gave us something to do.”

  Shane and Beth traded a look.

  “Solar panels,” Shane said. “Why didn’t you mention that before?”

  Corbin shrugged. “I didn’t mention a lot of things.”

  “Beth, I don’t suppose you’ve got any solar panels in storage, do you?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve thought about setting up solar panels many times over the years, but I never got around to it. Mitch didn’t want to help, so I would’ve had to do it all by myself. I didn’t relish the idea of climbing up on the roof, so I kept putting it off.”

  “We could use a source of power, especially one that doesn’t require fuel,” Shane said, digging the keys out of his pocket. He glanced at Corbin, who nodded. “Looks like we need to make another trip into town.”

  “A lot of people will have already thought about installing solar panels,” Beth said. “What are the odds you’ll find an open store and that it will still have some in stock?”

  “We won’t know unless we look,” Shane said, heading back inside.

  What he didn’t say was that he also desperately wanted the distraction. Roaming town looking for solar panels was a whole lot better than pacing the house worrying about his missing wife.

  4

  Someone had clearly taken their time lining up the cars across the road. Jodi would have been impressed if the sight of the roadblock hadn’t made her so nervous. Two rows of four cars each, the vehicles were lined up bumper to bumper so they created a kind of Lego-block wall across the narrow road. She’d been half-asleep, nursing her aching arm and lolling against the window, but as soon as she spotted the cars, she became fully alert. They were maybe a half a mile ahead, set in a place where the trees crowded in close to the road.

  “Owen, do you see that?”

  “Yeah, I see it.” He had eased the truck onto the gravel shoulder, as if he intended to go around the cars, but there wasn’t room. “I think I can squeak past.”

  “No, slow down,” Jodi said. “I don’t like the look of this.”

  Mike had fallen asleep, his chin planted against his chest and his arms crossed. He was still pale and sweaty, his body still dealing with the side effects of chemo, and he awoke with some effort, groaning and grimacing.

  “What happened this time?” he growled. Then he noticed the line of cars and said, “Whoa, that looks like a trap. Owen, back up and turn around as fast as you can.”

  Owen came to a gravel-churning stop not twenty yards from the roadblock. “I think you guys are right. This looks awful fishy.”

  He turned the steering whee
l to make a U-turn, but men rose from behind the vehicles. Jodi watched them pop up in quick succession from left to right, like dominoes in reverse. Each one had a gun, and they propped themselves on the cars to take aim. They wore dark sunglasses and camouflage hats with brims pulled low to hide their faces.

  “Stop your vehicle,” one of them shouted. “Turn off the engine and step outside. Come quietly, and your lives will be spared.”

  “Oh, hell, no,” Mike muttered. “I knew it was a trap.”

  “Get us out of here,” Jodi said, heart racing, pounding in her throat and temples. “Drive as fast as you can without losing control.”

  Owen slammed the truck into reverse and stomped on the accelerator. Instantly, they lurched backward, but he had to quickly spin the steering wheel the other way to keep from circling into the ditch. Jodi was impressed with how deftly he managed lining up the rear of the truck with the right lane.

  She ducked down below the dashboard and tried to pull Mike down as well. There wasn’t room for him to get past the gearshift, so he covered his head with his arms. She expected gunshots, but she didn’t hear them. After a few seconds, she dared a glance out the back window. Owen was flying down the road in reverse, navigating the twists and turns like a pro.

  Only when they’d gone about a mile, with the armed men well out of sight, did he come to a screeching stop, spinning the steering wheel so they did a harrowing 180 turn, dust flying and wheels shrieking on the asphalt. Mike uttered a shrill cry, grabbing the dashboard with both hands, but Jodi tensed, clenching her teeth.

  When the truck finally came to a stop, it was pointed perfectly in the opposite direction, lined up neatly in the other lane. Jodi looked at Owen.

  “My goodness, kid, that was a neat trick,” Mike said. “Where in the heck did you learn to do a thing like that?”

  “I’m not sure,” he replied, giving his uncle a proud grin. “I just did it. You just have to be real careful with the steering.”

 

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