Reapers (Breakers, Book 4)
Page 40
George walked up to her while the kids were still laughing. "It is my life's goal to make you as proud to be a part of my family as I am to be a part of yours."
Ellie hid her smile. "How long did it take you to think that up?"
"Three days," he laughed. "But it's true."
"Look at him." She nodded at Quinn, who scooped Dee up, white dress trailing, and ran with her for the shore. She wrestled from his grip and shoved him back, pointing at her dress. He pressed his palms together in apology, then flung his arms wide and fell back into the lake, tuxedo and all. "You raised the only son here who can keep up with my daughter."
George grinned, surprised, and fetched a handkerchief from his vest pocket to dab at his eye. "You'll have to excuse me. I believe I took a stray piece of cake to the left orbital."
Ellie was about to snort, but with sudden and terrifying clarity, she understood that, within a handful of years—if not months—she would become a grandmother.
* * *
Two years later, she walked out to the back porch. The night was so hot you'd think they'd broken nine sins, and Lloyd was enjoying one of the homebrewed beers that had made him the most popular man in town.
She sighed noisily. "One little sip?"
He crooked a brow. "You think?"
"How about you just wave it under my nose?"
He laughed and pushed himself up from the cushioned chair they'd liberated from a neighbor. The beer inside the bottle was room temperature. She missed the way cold bottles used to sweat. Lloyd brought the mouth under her nose and wafted it back and forth.
She inhaled deeply. "God, I can't wait to get this thing out of me."
He laughed some more. "Well, we got to come up with a name first."
"I got that covered. If it's a girl, we'll call her Lucy Three."
"Is that so?" he said. "And if it's a boy?"
"You kidding? Lucas."
He swigged his beer, fortifying himself for an argument, then sighed and laughed and set his fists on his hips. "There's no escaping that girl, is there?"
"We should pray ours is half as tough."
"Mm. Just so long as she ain't too much like her."
"No," Tilly said. She laughed so loud it came out like a honk. "Lord, no. With Lucy, a little went a long way."
But she missed her still, sometimes so fierce it was like pins dragged across the contours of her heart. Lucy had been a lot of things. A friend. A bitch. A force of nature. The most frustrating human Tilly had ever known.
And irreplaceable.
Crickets sang from the yard. They weren't in harmony, but they didn't care who heard. Tilly closed her eyes and smiled.
* * *
Late spring wind dragged hot black clouds across the skies of Albany. Ellie used the scope of her rifle to watch the six-sided office burn. A part of her hoped someone would flee it, but they'd been too thorough for that.
"What do you think?" Dee said. "Should we string the bodies above the highway? Change the sign to say 'Property of the Colsons'?"
Ellie pulled away from the scope to stare her down, but Dee couldn't keep a straight face. Ellie scowled. "I'm not sure how I feel about you joking about this."
"Yeah, I'm sorry. These slave-taking assholes deserve a twenty-one-gun salute. Think we can get Robert Frost for the eulogy?"
Out of habit, Ellie shaped a rebuke, but she discovered she didn't believe it. She moved the rifle to the crook of her arm. "We'll catapult them into New York. Kill two birds with one stone."
It was Dee's turn to stare for hints that she was joking.
"Fear not," Hobson said. "Your mother's not that ambitious. Anyway, I heard from Nora. Our departure from the stadium touched off a full-scale riot."
"And we just cut off the supply of replacements," Dee said. She grinned at the sheriff. "High five!"
He held up his hand and awkwardly received her smack. Ellie smiled. This had been the last step; Hobson's posse had dealt with the men in the black fedoras the same day the strike team left for Albany.
The office burned on. Other than the tower of smoke, it was a peaceful summer day. She expected it to stay that way for some time.
But the world had grown large. Dark. She could no longer see beyond the horizon. She doubted it would be the last time the people of the Lakelands would have to take arms to protect each other.
She thought they'd be up for the challenge.
* * *
She'd fallen in love as soon as she'd stepped on the island.
The deep blue sea. The haze on the horizon. The wind that took the edge off the warmth. And that warmth—one day after the other, as dependable as the tide, a literal paradise. The only time it came close to cool was the December evenings when the wind blew in from the sea. You could put on pants then, if you felt like it, but you'd feel pretty foolish once the sun was down and the wind left with it.
She and Alden had set up at one of the hotels north of Lahaina. It was a little dry on this side of the island, but the resorts and the town made for easy scavenging, and it was plenty green in the foothills above town. They didn't even have to farm in an organized way. Pop some seeds in the ground and let nature do the rest. Mangos, pineapple, taro root. She had been hesitant, at first, to take the fish—all those stripes and colors made her think poison—but after a little research, she learned which ones were safe to eat. Often, she and Alden flippered into the reefs with spears, as much for the fun as for the catch.
A handful of people lived in town. Others built shacks on the shore, but there was enough space that everyone had their own beach. She heard one of the villages in the jungle on the northeast lump of the island was more or less untouched, but even with bikes, the trip was a bitch—winding roads, bridges collapsed into waterfall-carved ravines, cliffs on all sides.
Anyway, each morning she got to wake up to the sight of Molokai and Lanai warming in the haze like great green whales. She was jealous she hadn't been born here.
But Alden was getting restless. He was well into his teens, and with few girls around, and no video games, go-karts, or wrestling shows, he spent too much of his time kicking down the beach with his hands in his pockets. These days, she could hardly talk him into practicing kung fu.
For his birthday, she came up with a surprise.
"Let's go!" Tristan clapped her hands over his face, yanking him from sleep. "Time to go camping."
He rolled over. "We live in a camp."
She slapped his face. "But it's not a volcano."
He opened one eye. "Volcano?"
"Haleakala," Tristan said, relishing the word. "We'll hike up and spend the night. The sunrise is supposed to be the prettiest thing on earth."
He sat up, sheets bunched around his tan torso. "Will there be lava?"
"I think it's extinct. But I bet the Big Island is still bubbling. If we can handle Haleakala, maybe for your next birthday, we can sail to Kilauea."
"Cool."
He got up without further complaint. She had a bike trailer for hauling fruit down from the hills. She loaded it with gear and they rode across the saddle of the island that connected the western lobe to the larger eastern lands. Haleakala tumbled up from their middle, green and gorgeous in the morning mist. It took most of the day to climb, but as they neared the rim of the crater, the view commanded the seas to all sides. Tristan closed her eyes and shivered. The high wind was the first time she'd felt real cold in years.
But up on the lip, her blood froze solid. In the hidden slopes of the caldera, bushes grew in orderly rings. Crablike monsters stalked among the concentric rows, tentacles waving in the sun of paradise, spiked feet piercing an earth that wasn't theirs.
FROM THE AUTHOR
Hello everyone! The book may be over, but the Breakers series isn't. If you'd like to know when the next book is out, the best way is to sign up for my mailing list (http://eepurl.com/oTR6j). The only emails I send are for new releases. No spam, and the list will never be shared. Promise. Or may Lucy haun
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Table of Contents
I: STRANGERS
1
2
3
4
5
6
7
8
9
10
11
12
13
II: BLIZZARD
14
15
16
17
18
19
20
III: HARVEST
21
22
23
24
25
26
27
28
29
30
31
EPILOGUE