The End of All Things

by Lissa Bryan

  They drove the wagon to the house, and Tom walked ahead with Justin and Stan to show them the way. They passed a group of young children playing kickball in the street, who froze in place to silently watch the wagon pass as their ball bounced away into the underbrush unnoticed. Carly understood what they were feeling. It had been a year since the Crisis began and Tom and the rest of the town council had decided to seal off the town, a year since they had seen any outsiders. And it had been a year since Carly saw any children at play. She pressed a kiss to Dagny’s forehead and thought of how lovely it would be if there were other children for her to play with.

  The Connell house turned out to be a turn-of-the-century Craftsman style bungalow with a low-pitched roof and overhanging eaves. The furnishings inside were simple, functional, and uncluttered, and Carly loved it immediately. Justin took the horses out to the barn while Carly explored the rest of the house with Mindy.

  “This place is amazing,” Mindy said. “I’m trying to remind myself to be alert and suspicious, but it’s just so nice here, like a slice of the world the way it used to be. I almost expect to sit down in the living room and turn on the six o’clock news. Did you notice the door wasn’t locked when we got here?”

  “What’s worth stealing?” Carly replied.

  Mindy shrugged. “I just feel like we’ve landed in Mayberry.”

  As if to reinforce the image, their neighbor, Mrs. Sutton, brought over a basket of vegetables for their dinner, with a few eggs tucked inside from the chickens she kept. Carly almost cried as she thanked her. Had she become so changed by life in this new world that neighborly kindness was an oddity?

  That evening, after a delicious dinner of fresh vegetables, canned chicken and eggs made into a stir-fry with rice, Carly took a shower. The water was cold, but it felt like heaven. Those quick wipe downs at camp and occasional dunks in a creek or pond didn’t do the job. It was the first time she’d felt clean in weeks.

  She sat on the bed, brushing her hair, and watched in puzzlement as Justin re-dressed in dark clothing. “Where are you going, honey?”

  “Exploring,” he said. “Carly, this place seems too good to be true. I’m going to try to find out if it is.”

  Carly hid a smile. That was her Justin—ever-cautious, ever-suspicious. Of course he would want to go scouting, but she couldn’t resist teasing him about it a bit. “What are you looking for? Bones of other travelers they’ve lured inside to their doom?”

  “Ha ha.” Justin took off his guns and laid them on the dresser before he replaced them with knives.

  “Justin, if their intent was just to rob and kill us or something, they could have done it easily. Why feed us and loan us a house if they meant us harm?” She had to admit, the normalcy of the place was disconcerting, but she didn’t think they were in any danger.

  “I don’t know.” Justin rubbed the back of his neck and gave her a slightly sheepish look. “But I can’t trust them. Not yet. Keep Sam in here with you and Dagny, all right? I locked Storm and Shadowfax in the barn and secured it with one of our padlocks, so they should be safe.” He bent and pressed a gentle kiss to Dagny’s forehead and smiled when she cooed.

  “Please be careful,” Carly whispered as he pulled her into a hug. Even though she didn’t think the residents were aggressive or meant them any harm, they might react badly if they found a man dressed in black lurking around in the bushes.

  “I will.” He lifted a lock of her caramel-colored hair and tucked it behind her ear as his eyes grew soft. “You know, I still think your hair is the most beautiful I’ve ever seen.” He kissed her and called for Sam, who’d been lying out in the hallway with Tigger curled up beside him. From there, he could look down through the railing at the top of the stairs and keep an eye on the foyer. Justin shut him inside with Carly after giving him a scratch behind the ears. Sam jumped lightly onto the end of the bed and turned around in circles before plopping down with a contented sigh. Tigger paused to rub up against Carly’s legs before she hopped up beside him and snuggled down against Sam’s belly.

  “And so we wait,” Carly said. She sighed. She didn’t think she’d ever get used to it.

  It was an excellent night for spying. The overcast sky hid the moon and the town lay silent in the darkness, the only sound the chirping of crickets and the croak of the bullfrogs from the swamp. Justin slipped silently from house to house, pausing to listen, to watch, to wait.

  He stopped beneath a window. The room inside was lit by a lantern, and its warm, yellow glow spilled out to pool on the ground outside. His breathing was slow and even, and he crouched, resting lightly on the balls of his feet, perfectly balanced and motionless.

  A man and a woman were talking inside, discussing the options for planting their winter garden this year. A child’s voice interjected and asked his father if he could help with a math problem. Justin was surprised, but pleased; apparently, Colby had a school.

  He listened for a bit more and then continued on his way. An ordinary family with ordinary domestic discussions. He shook his head. It was difficult for him to accept that the place might be exactly as it seemed, an untouched remnant of the country he thought was dead and gone.

  He heard voices and ducked back among the shrubbery. The owners of those voices drew closer, and soon enough, he could make out the words.

  “. . . kinda cute.” The speaker was young, male, late teens or early twenties, Justin judged. “She can’t be more than twenty or so and that’s only a couple of years older than me.”

  Carly.

  Another young male voice replied, “Yeah, but she’s married. And she has a kid, too.”

  The first young man scoffed. “He’s old. She probably just shacked up with him for protection or something.”

  Justin flinched. Having similar doubts deep within him was bad enough, but to hear them voiced with casual cruelty by an outsider was much worse.

  “So, what are you gonna do? Ask her out? I’d watch my ass if I were you. That guy looks pretty fuckin’ mean, and if he finds out about it . . . Well, let’s just say I’d rather not get on his bad side.”

  That drew a laugh. “Might be worth it. Besides, Uncle Clayton’s on the council. He wouldn’t—”

  “You think that guy gives a damn about our council? He . . .” The voices trailed away as the young men rounded a corner and went down another street.

  Justin realized he was clenching his teeth and forced himself to relax. His gut burned with fury, and he had to fight the temptation to go put the fear of God into them.

  He turned around as he rose and found himself looking right into the face of Tom Clark.

  To say Justin was surprised would be an understatement. No one had managed to sneak up on Justin in decades. He had to admit, he had been concentrating on the conversation so intently, he probably wouldn’t have noticed if a buffalo strolled up behind him.

  “Hello,” Tom said pleasantly, as though he had run into Justin in the parking lot after church services.

  Justin cleared his throat. He considered trying to come up with an excuse for lurking but decided not to insult Tom’s intelligence. So he simply stood there, looked at him, and waited to see what Tom would want to do.

  “Come over to my place. We’ll have a beer.”

  That wasn’t the reaction Justin was expecting, but he nodded and followed Tom across the lawns to the porch where he’d drunk lemonade a few hours earlier. “Take a seat. I’ll be right back.”

  Justin lowered himself into one of the wicker chairs. He heard the creak of the screen door open and then footsteps on hardwood floors that faded with distance. Tom returned in just a few minutes with two bottles of beer, one of which he handed to Justin. The bottle was cool and wet, likely from having been stored in the basement spring Tom had mentioned earlier. Justin twisted off the cap and lifted the bottle in salute before he took a sip.

  “Last two,” Tom said as he opened his own. “For all I know, they’re the last two beers in this part of th
e country, unless you’ve got some in that wagon of yours.”

  “I do.”

  Tom lifted his eyes heavenward. “Praise the Lord!” he said heartily, and Justin chuckled. “But even if they were the last two, I’d be glad to share ‘em with you.”

  “Thanks,” Justin said. He was a little touched by that.

  “I ain’t gonna chide you for checking around. Hell, I’d prob’ly do the same in your shoes, but I’d rather save you the effort. Your family is in no danger here. These are good folks.”

  “I’ve seen plenty of situations where ‘good folks’ went bad,” Justin said.

  Tom shrugged again. “You gotta do what you need for your own peace of mind. I’m glad you were out and about, actually, because I needed to ask you about something, and I thought it would be best to approach the subject . . . discreetly.”

  “Go on.”

  “I ain’t gonna lie to you, son, we’re in trouble, here. You don’t strike me as someone who’d take advantage for your personal gain. I saw that tattoo of yours, and if you were so loyal to your unit that you’d etch it into your skin permanently, I’m guessing you’re a man of honor. And if I’m gonna take a risk on someone, I’d rather it be someone like that.”

  Justin shook his head slightly. “How did—”

  Tom chuckled. “You ain’t the only one with binoculars, son. I saw it while you all were still on the bridge. And I was in the service myself, remember? I know a military tattoo when I see it. Never seen that particular symbol before, but I recognize it for what it is. You got it on that ring, too.”

  Justin looked down at his hand. “It was Carly’s father’s. He was one of my instructors.”

  “Small world.” Tom sat back in his chair and steepled his hands beneath his chin. “I’m tellin’ you now, because I think it’s something you’re gonna need to mull over in your mind before you make any decisions. We’re poorly armed. Hard to believe, I know, a town in the South would be in this situation, but it’s the truth. We’ve only got a few guns worth a damn and ammo that will fit only a couple of ‘em.” Tom scratched his head and stared thoughtfully out into the dark. “I don’t want to believe this of my neighbors, but if anyone’s got shells, they’re keepin’ them for themselves. Tried to tell ‘em if raiders get past our walls, their deer rifle ain’t gonna save them, but you know how people are.”

  Justin did. That’s what scared him.

  “My hope is you’ll trade some of that ammo to us.”

  “It’s not all mine,” Justin said. “A good bit of it belongs to Stan and Mindy. I’ll be willing to trade with what’s mine, but I can’t speak for them.”

  Tom took the last swig of his beer and set the empty bottle down on the porch floor beside his chair. “They didn’t seem all that interested in speaking for themselves this afternoon.”

  Justin had found it odd, too. He wondered if they thought their opinions were irrelevant and made a mental note to talk to Stan about it in the morning. Carly and Justin were the ones who would ultimately make the decision about where their little group would go, but he wanted to hear what Stan and Mindy thought about it.

  Tom fished in his shirt pocket and withdrew a crumpled pack of cigarettes. He lit one with a sigh of pleasure, as though it had been a long while since his last smoke. The orange glow of the tip illuminated his face briefly when he inhaled. “Let me ask you something. Where you aiming to go?”

  “The original goal was Florida.”

  “Original?”

  Justin smiled slightly and took a sip of his beer. “Plans change.”

  “What were you hopin’ to find in Florida?”

  Somewhere like this, Justin thought. At least, that was what Carly wanted. A safe home, a community that could be self-sufficient. He considered different ways of answering the question and finally decided to opt for simplicity. “A home.”

  Carly realized she must have fallen asleep when she woke to the sound of Justin opening the bedroom door. She sat up and rubbed her eyes. “Did you find anything?”

  He shook his head. “Nothing suspicious.” He sat down on the bed and pulled off his shoes. “Carly, I don’t want you to get your hopes up . . .”

  “Of course not,” she lied. “The subject hasn’t even come up. We don’t know if they’d even be interested in letting us stay.” She couldn’t help the rising hope that swelled within her, like floodwaters behind a dam.

  “Right. And I’m going to have to do a good bit more looking around before I’m comfortable.”

  “Certainly. I wouldn’t expect anything less from you.” Carly walked on her knees to where he sat and began to rub the tension from his shoulders. “You always do what’s necessary to keep me and Dagny safe. I know that, and I appreciate it.”

  “I was worried you’d think I was paranoid.”

  “Not at all.”

  He swiftly turned around, and before she knew it, she was lying on her back beneath him. Her breath caught in her throat at the heat in his eyes.

  “Did you notice all of those young men today?”

  “No . . .” She had no idea where he was going with his train of thought.

  “They stared at you,” he said.

  “Everyone was staring at us.”

  He trailed a line of kisses down the side of her neck. “They’re going to try to steal you away from me.”

  “That’s just silly, Justin. I’m a married woman with a baby.” She suddenly realized the hot light in his eyes was jealousy—jealousy over men she hadn’t even noticed. “Justin . . . Did you hear something while you were out there?”

  “Yes.”

  She took his face between her hands and forced him to look at her. “Justin, I’m not going anywhere. I love you. I don’t know what those guys said, but it doesn’t matter. You’re the one I want. The only one I want.”

  He kissed her, his hands buried in her hair, a kiss of passion tinged with desperation. She couldn’t blame him for his fear. How could she? Everyone he’d ever loved had left him, from his mother leaving him in front of the fire station to the foster families who returned him like a broken toaster when he proved too difficult to handle. Trust would come with time, she thought, and when he started on the buttons of her pajama top, there was no more rational thought.

  Justin wasn’t beside her when Carly woke the next morning. She sat up, pushed her tumbled hair out of her face, and glanced over at Dagny, who was contentedly chewing on one of her feet. She let out a happy little coo when Carly picked her up, and she checked her diaper, finding it dry. Justin must have changed her. Carly settled back on the bed and opened her pajama top. As she did, Tigger hopped up on the bed beside her to doze in a patch of sunshine.

  One of the best parts about nursing, she thought, was the sweet intimacy of her baby looking up with trusting adoration in her eyes while Carly nourished her. Sometimes, she thought her heart might burst from the sheer amount of love it held for this tiny little person she and Justin had created.

  And from the warm welcome they’d received, it looked like her baby might have a safe and happy home in a place that recalled the world she thought was dead and gone. In Colby, she could grow up normally, maybe have a husband and children of her own. Carly could picture that, sitting on the porch swing with Justin, both of them with silvered hair, watching as their grandbabies played in the yard.

  There was a tap at the door, and Carly pulled the blanket up over herself for modesty’s sake before calling, “Come in.”

  It was Mindy, and she carried a coffee mug in each hand. “Morning, Carly.”

  “Good morning, Mindy. Have you seen Justin?”

  “Yeah, he left a couple of hours ago with Tom. He wanted Justin to look at some kind of irrigation thing. I admit I wasn’t paying much attention, because when you start talking about ‘gravity-fed water line’ and ‘angles of descent,’ my eyes start to glaze over.” Mindy sat down on the side of the bed and held out one of the coffee cups. “Anyway, I brought you a cup of coffee.”<
br />
  Carly accepted it with delight. “Thank you. Did Stan go with them?”

  “No, he went with Cynthia to look over a pond on the other side of town. They want to try to use it for a fish farm, and Stan told them his dad used to work at a hatchery up on Lake Erie. He tried to tell them he didn’t know anything about it, but Cynthia still wanted to get his opinion on their setup.”

  Carly sipped her coffee and sighed with pleasure.

  Mindy stared down into her own cup. “Soon, there won’t be any more coffee.”

  Carly winced. She hadn’t thought about that, but it was true. There wouldn’t be any imports from South America for a long time. Probably not in her lifetime.

  “Chicory,” Mindy said, as though her thoughts were following the same line as Carly’s. “It may grow around here. My grandma said they used to use the ground roots of it as a coffee substitute during the Depression. No caffeine, though.”

  “Do you know how to find chicory? Where it grows and what it looks like?”

  Mindy shook her head. “I’m sure someone around here does or has a book on plants or something. Anyway, the reason why I came up here is because Tom asked you and Justin to come to a town meeting tonight.”

  “Town meeting? Why?”

  Mindy shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Were you and Stan invited?” Carly moved Dagny up to her shoulder and patted her back gently. Dagny took the opportunity to grab a handful of her mother’s hair and stuff it into her mouth. Carly winced and untangled her daughter’s fist.

  Mindy hesitated. “I’m not sure. The way he worded it, it could be interpreted either way. Stan and I talked it over, and we’re not going to go. If someone asks, just say I had a headache or something.”

  “Why?”

  Mindy picked up a corner of the blanket and twisted it in her hands. “I’m—I’m just not comfortable with it.”