by James Hunt
“How many were there?” Rodney asked.
“A few dozen,” Stacy answered. “But from the sound of it, they had more that stayed behind at the other towns like ours.”
“Did they say what they’re doing?” Mark asked.
“They’re doing whatever they want,” Stacy answered. “They think there isn’t anyone around to stop them.” She turned to Rodney. “I guess they were right.”
Rodney crossed his arms. “Listen, lady, I understand your worry. I really do, but we don’t have the resources to fight them.”
“Sure we do,” Kate said. “We have guns, and ammunition, and—”
“Nobody that knows how to use them,” Rodney said.
“We could teach them,” Kate said, looking at Rodney. “You taught us.”
Rodney sighed and rubbed his forehead. “We don’t know what we’re up against. We don’t know how many men they really have, and we don’t know what kind of weaponry they’re packing.” He eyed Kate and then Stacy. “I’m sorry, but the best I can do is take you back to the town with some supplies.”
“I can help you train,” Stacy said, trying her best not to sound desperate. “I was in the military. I wasn’t in combat, but I helped with logistical preparation with the army. We can set up a system. I can help get us organized.”
Rodney laughed and flapped his arms at his sides. “This is crazy. I’m not looking to start a war.”
“One’s already been started,” Stacy said. “Look, if you think that those people won’t eventually stumble onto this place, then you’re a fool. You need the numbers to fight back.” She straightened, fighting the cold. “One of the guards mentioned a highway patrol station off the highway. They’re worried that they’ll be found out, put back in jail.”
“There aren’t any more jails,” Rodney said. “And if there were cops in that station, they’re long gone by now.”
“How do you know that?” Kate asked.
“Look around, Kate!” Rodney gestured to the empty forest. “People ran. People fled. We fled. We came here to survive, and that’s not going to happen if we decide to go looking for a fight!” He spun around and violently kicked the snow, sending up a drift that caught in the wind. He kept his back to them for a long time, hands on his hips, his head lowered.
Kate walked to him slowly but didn’t step around to face him. “Rodney.” When he didn’t answer, she took another half step, her voice dropping to a whisper. “Rodney.”
He turned his head slowly. “You’re willing to expose us? Expose your family?”
“I’m doing this to keep them safe,” Kate answered. “To keep us all safe.”
Rodney slumped his shoulders then turned, his face still turned down to his boots. “All right, Kate.” He looked at Stacy. “Can you show me where the highway patrol station is?”
Stacy nodded. “Yeah. I caught a glimpse of one of their maps.”
Rodney shook his head as he stepped past them and headed toward the door. Stacy looked back at Kate and mouthed “Thank you” as she followed Rodney inside, leaving Kate and Mark in the snow alone.
“He’s not wrong,” Mark said.
“I know,” Kate replied, watching the front door close behind Stacy. “But neither am I.”
Mark took her hand, and the pair walked back inside, returning to their sentry post in the kitchen, and time returned to its slow, crawling pace. She closed her eyes, still clutching Mark’s hand, and for the first time since Luke was born, she whispered a prayer in her head.
Don’t take him from me. Don’t let me have brought him this far for nothing. He’s a good boy. Her lip quivered. He’s my son.
Mark noticed the tears and pulled Kate close. They held onto each other for a long time, and Kate sniffled, trying not to lose control. She just had to believe it would turn out okay. For once, she had to push aside the odds and the logic and the calculations. She needed faith.
The door opened, and the doctor stepped out. Blood covered both hands and stretched up to his elbows, with matching stains on the front of his shirt. He wiped the crimson away in dark smears on a towel, and the sight of so much blood made Kate fear the worst.
“I was able to get the bullet out,” the doctor said. “And I was able to remove a lot of the infected tissue. But he lost a lot of blood.” He turned back inside the room. “He’s resting now, but it’ll take some time before we know for sure if he’ll pull through.”
“But he’s okay?” Kate asked, holding back tears.
“Yes,” the doctor said. “For now.”
“Can we see him?” Mark asked.
“Yes, but try not to wake him.”
The doctor stepped aside, and Kate walked in first, fighting to keep her steps quiet and calm as she approached Luke’s bedside. A fresh white bandage was stretched over his chest and shoulder. Blood covered most of the sheets. His cheeks were pale, and when Kate grabbed his hand, Luke’s fingers were ice cold.
Mark stood behind her, both hands on her shoulders. “He’s going to be okay. He just needs some rest, and he’ll be fine in the morning.”
Kate nodded, her lips pursed as more tears fell. She kissed Luke’s hand, and then she started to cry. “I don’t want to lose him. I can’t lose him.”
“You won’t,” Mark said, whispering into her ear.
The couple held each other tight and close, watching over their son. They remained still and quiet for a long time, both hoping for the best.
Rodney made Stacy go over the locations a few times, and the exact conversation she’d heard from the men who’d attacked the town. He wanted to see if he could find inconsistencies with her story. He couldn’t, which made the situation even more dangerous.
If the woman’s estimates were correct, then there were close to forty men spread over the remaining five towns. Forty armed and dangerous convicts against two dozen scared men, women, and children. He didn’t like those odds at all.
Their only hope rested in the highway patrol station. He wasn’t sure how many officers would still be there, especially with so much time passed since the EMP struck, but if anything, they might be able to find additional ammunition and guns.
Rodney looked at his closet, hoping he wouldn’t have to use what was behind those doors. It was a last resort. He examined the map for a final time and then walked back toward the living room.
Most of the refugees camped in his living room were asleep, exhausted by the walk from town. The food they’d eaten was probably the first real stuff they’d tasted in a couple days. And with full bellies and heavy eyes, they passed out right where they sat. All but two.
A mother and daughter sat in the corner. The daughter sobbed quietly, her only signs of distress the gentle shake of her shoulders. Her mother stroked the girl’s hair, her eyes closed, the motion repetitive, the sight reminding Rodney of a swing that had been pushed and never lost momentum.
“You’re the man who saved us?”
Rodney jumped a little at the question, not realizing he’d been staring at her the whole time. He cleared his throat, keeping his voice down. “I was one of the people that came into the town, yes.”
The mother smiled. “My name is Yvonne.” She looked down to her daughter. “This is the first time she’s slept since those men came into town.” The smile faded, and the wrinkles along her eyes and mouth smoothed out. “They tried to take her from me. Made all of these threats. My husband, he—”
The tear fell first, and the wrinkles returned as she scrunched her face and lifted her hand from her daughter’s light brown hair. It hovered there for a moment, and then she covered her mouth, stifling some sobs.
Rodney watched from afar, at least three other sleeping bodies between the two of them, making any attempt at physical contact impossible. “I’m sorry for your loss.”
Yvonne wiped her eyes. “Thank you.” She restarted the stroking of the daughter’s hair, and kept her voice low. “It was very nice of you, taking us all in like you did.”
&nb
sp; Rodney nodded, keeping the knowledge that he’d only gone to retrieve the doctor’s daughter. He never had any intention of bringing all of these people back. But then again, he never had the intention of letting Kate and her family tag along.
“Did you,” she paused, raising her eyebrows, “lose anyone?”
“No.” Rodney fidgeted with his hands. “I was alone before the EMP.” When the mother frowned at that last word, Rodney leaned forward. “It’s what caused all of this to happen. Killed every piece of technology controlled with a computer chip.” He snapped his fingers. “Faster than the blink of an eye.”
Yvonne shook her head in disbelief. Her eyes remained red, the tiny veins highlighted by the glow of the fire. “It’s hard to believe that people can become so violent in times like these.”
“Fear is a powerful emotion,” Rodney answered. “It can push you to do things you could never imagine.”
Yvonne brushed her daughter’s hair back behind her ear, and then let her palm rest on the little girl’s shoulder, her voice dropping an octave but remaining quiet. “What those men did, what they are, it’s more than just fear that drives them.” She locked eyes with Rodney, her gaze like a magnet pulling him closer. “I’d never seen anything like it. Not even in films. It was animalistic. It was… evil. And it’s spreading.”
Rodney finally looked away, his eyes falling to anything save for the woman’s ghostlike glare. “We’re heading to the police station. I’m sure we’ll be able to find you all some help there.”
“The police?” Yvonne’s voice fluttered into a laughing whimper. “They can’t stop what I saw. They can’t stop what those people are.”
Unable to settle his eyes on anything else, Rodney finally looked back to the woman, who he found still staring at him. He shifted uneasily. “You speak like there isn’t any hope.”
At that, Yvonne finally broke away from her locked stare, and lowered her eyes to her daughter. “I’d love nothing more than to believe that everything will turn out all right. That my daughter will grow up in a world where she doesn’t have to fear for her life.” She traced her daughter’s jaw with the lightest touch, and then finally lifted her eyes. “Do you know what the last thing I said to my husband was before those animals killed him?” Her lips quivered. “We were fighting about money, and I told him that if he was a real man then he would be able to provide a better life for his family.” The tears fell freely now. “You tell me what kind of hopeful world lets those words be the last spoken between a man and a woman who’ve been married for fifteen years.” She cast her head down, her hand trembling as she restarted the motion of her stroking her daughter’s hair.
Rodney waited for a moment, unsure if she would speak, and unsure of what he should say. But thankfully the mother kept her head down, and allowed Rodney a moment of reflection. With so much talk of family and death, Rodney couldn’t help but think of his own family. Especially his dad.
He couldn’t keep track of the number of times he wanted to call his dad up just to hear his voice and that boisterous laugh. To this day, he still hadn’t ever heard a laugh so full of life. And he’d kill for one of his mother’s pies. Any pie. So long as she was the one who made it.
Just one more dinner, one more trip up here to the cabin during the spring or summer to go fishing. One more hello, good night, or I love you. But his one mores weren’t in the cards. Cancer and heart failure made sure of that.
Rodney looked at the huddled masses asleep on the floor and wondered how many of them had lost loved ones. How many of them wanted “one more”? He knew that mother wanted one more goodbye, a chance to do it the right way.
Their family and friends were left for dead back at the town, their hasty retreat leaving no time for proper goodbyes or funerals. Burials were hard, but despite the pain, they brought acceptance, a sense of peace.
The couch groaned in relief when Rodney stood, and his footsteps were hurried toward Luke’s room. He found Mark and Kate inside, both kneeling by Luke’s bed, and he gently knocked on the doorframe. They turned, smiling with sad eyes.
“Hey,” Rodney said. “How’s he doing?”
“The doctor said time will tell.” Kate had her arms crossed over her chest, her hands rubbing her shoulders.
“Listen, I’m not going with you to the highway patrol station,” Rodney said.
“What?” Kate and Mark both stood, walking to him at the door. “Rodney, you said—”
“You guys should still go, but I need to go back to the town,” Rodney said. “I’ll take the people who lost their loved ones. I want us to bury them.” He glanced back at the group. “I want them to have a chance to say goodbye.”
“Rodney,” Kate said, shaking her head. “I don’t think that’s a good—”
“I lost both my parents within the same year,” Rodney said. “Cancer took my dad, and then a broken heart took my mom. I was able to say goodbye to both before they were gone.” He gestured to the people inside. “They didn’t. But I can right that wrong.”
“I’ll go with you,” Mark said then looked at Kate. “You can lead the group to the station. They’ll follow you.”
“He’s right,” Rodney replied. “They will.”
Rodney watched Kate process his request, and when she finally worked through it, she simply nodded.
7
It didn’t take much coaxing for Rodney to convince the townspeople to head back and bury their dead. He waited until Kate and Stacy and the eight others made their trek toward the highway patrol station before he led the charge back to town with Mark, Harold, a young woman named Dalia, and Yvonne in tow. They were the only ones with family that had died. Everyone else had either perished with their loved ones or were vacationers with no family.
But Rodney figured the others that died had family somewhere, and even though they’d never see each other again, he still felt an obligation to bury them properly. That was what he hoped someone would do for him.
The return to the valley town was quick, despite the heavier snowfall. One hand gripped a shovel, and the other held the rifle strapped to his shoulder should he need to put anyone else beneath the ground.
They found the town deserted when they arrived, but Rodney still performed a thorough sweep before he let anyone enter. Once they did, the doctor, Harold, and the mother, Yvonne, and the young woman, Dalia, found their family members piled in the snow behind one of the cabins.
The cold had already turned their skin blue, and frostbite was showing on their fingertips. One by one, they pulled the bodies from the pile and laid them in a row. Final goodbyes were whispered, and then Rodney planted his shovel into the icy earth.
Winter made the digging difficult, but they didn’t need to be deep graves. The bodies would freeze and then decay in the spring, but by then, with any luck, the world would be back standing on at least one leg.
Rodney smirked. Kate’s optimism was starting to wear off on him. No, it wasn’t her optimism—it was something else. He’d been touched with a purpose that went beyond him. For as long as he could remember prepping, Rodney was always concerned with making sure that he was ready, but not once had he ever considered making sure everyone else was ready. Because if everyone was ready, they wouldn’t have been in this position in the first place.
Each grave was marked with a small cross that the doctor constructed from dead tree branches. He planted them firmly at the head of each mound when it was finished, and then they moved on to the next.
It took almost two hours, and by the time they finished, the snowfall had worsened, bringing with it colder temperatures.
Mark appeared through the white haze, lifting his arm to shield his eyes from the snowfall. “We should get heading back.”
Rodney nodded and then looked at the last grave they’d finished. It belonged to Yvonne’s husband, and she knelt at the foot of the grave while the doctor finished up the cross at the grave’s head. She had her hands clasped together tightly, her body curled f
orward in the position of prayer. How someone could still have faith after something like this, Rodney had no idea.
“Rodney,” Mark said, prodding his arm.
“Right.” Rodney stepped toward the woman, having to lift his feet higher in the snow now that it was starting to pile up again. He placed a gloved hand on her shoulder so lightly that she didn’t even realize he was there until he spoke. “We need to leave.”
Yvonne jumped, slightly startled, and then nodded, pursing her lips as she wiped her eyes. The doctor walked around to join them, and then he stopped in his tracks. He held up his hand and began to retreat toward the main road between the building alleyways.
“I’ll be right back! My daughter wanted something from our cabin. It’ll just take a minute.” The old doctor broke into a halfhearted jog that stole his breath.
It wasn’t until Harold was out of view, and Rodney turned away, that he heard the gunshot. He spun around, dropping his shovel in favor of his rifle, and sprinted down the alley toward the gunfire just in time to find the doctor on his knees, his arms limp at his side, and then face planted onto the icy pavement.
Rodney tried to bring the rifle up to his shoulder to aim, but a hand stopped him. He turned to find Mark holding him still, and another gunshot thundered through the hazy white of the snowfall. And then, toward the town’s entrance, a light glow of orange burned through the snow like a rising sun.
“Burn it! Shoot it! Kill anything that’s still alive in this place!”
The order boomed from the haze of falling snow, and Mark pulled Rodney backward. “C’mon!” he whispered harshly, heading toward the safety of the ridge.
Rodney stole one last glance on his ascent, just before the snow and trees blocked the town from view. He saw a man with a torch, standing over the slain doctor’s body. He aimed a pistol at the doctor’s head and then fired again, the doctor’s lifeless body twitching on the pavement.
