by Steven Pajak
No one had told Wesley or the younger children about how Kieran really died, or what we learned about Kieran’s killer; not much at all. We also didn’t tell Wesley that Brian and I would be leaving the farm to return to Randall Oaks. I wanted to tell Wesley everything. I thought he had a right to know. He was young, yes, but he was also growing up in a different world, one that required he lose his innocence at a young age and become a man too soon. But Lara suggested that telling Wesley would only further depress the boy and that I should wait until the day before.
Personally, I didn’t feel waiting would make hearing the news any easier. And I hated keeping things from the boy, even if keeping secrets was to protect him. In the end, I did as Lara suggested. She had been right about so many things and in this I trusted her judgment.
It was difficult making preparations while keeping secrets. Around here, everyone helped with the day-to-day activities, including the younger children, who each had a list of chores they had to finish before sunset. They were naturally inquisitive, especially Wesley who was trying to learn so many new things, and not much slipped past their curious minds. However, their minds were preoccupied and although they went about their tasks, they did so with a heavy heart.
Deirdre and Nora, the two youngest of the Finnegan clan—normally full of questions—were silent as they helped Ian hitch their horses—Meredith and Beauty—to the hay track wagon. He’d expected them to wonder why they were hitching the horses to the hay track when there wouldn’t be hay to gather until spring. And perhaps they noticed, but they were too busy missing their brother to wonder about it. When they finished up, they both excused themselves to the main house rather than running off to play while there was still daylight.
While Lara finished packing my ruck, I went outside to search for Wesley. It was time to talk to the boy. I expected to find him feeding the livestock, one of his chores, but instead I found him behind the barracks, sitting on a set of old tractor tires that were no longer fit for duty. In the field, Cody scouted for rabbits or other critters that he could chase down. Cody took well to farm life and he was happy here.
When I sat next to Wesley, he paused from his whittling project—something Cleona had started him on the day after Kieran was laid to rest—then he was back to working the piece of wood with the knife the old woman had given him. Normally talkative, inquisitive, this morning he was quiet. I knew he was thinking about Kieran.
After his parents died during the battle with Providence, Wesley had retreated into himself. He became quiet, reclusive, wanting to be alone. He did not want to be consoled. Sam and Kat were beside themselves with worry; they felt helpless. They boy did not want their company and they just wanted to hold him and hug him and take his pain from him.
Eventually, the boy began to open up again. He just needed time and the ability to grieve in his own way. I knew he’d come around again, just like he did then, as he also did when Ray died. We just needed to give him his space and let him grieve his friend the way that was best for him. If he decided he wanted comfort or needed contact, he would seek it out. As I said, he was a boy, but he was also a man in many ways.
So sitting on the edge of the hard, cold rubber of the giant tractor tire, I just watched him for a moment as his small hands worked the stag handled knife—a gift from Kieran—against the soft wood. Although Wesley had only started the project a day ago, I could see the beginnings of a horse head. The ears, eyes, and nostrils carved in intricate detail. He was currently working at one side of the mane; carving curls that brought dimension to the piece.
Several minutes in silence while he continued to shave life-like details into the block of wood. In the field, Cody made his way along a stretch of fence, no longer tracking prey, but instead stopping every several yards to lift a leg and relive himself, to mark his territory.
Finally, I broke the silence. “What are you making there, Wesley?”
The hand that held the knife stopped and he settled it against his thigh, palm up with the knife pointing away from his body. With his other hand, he held up the block of wood so that I could see it.
“It’s a knight,” he said, his voice so soft I almost didn’t hear him.
“Like Sir Arthur and his knights of the round table?” I asked.
He shook his head. “It’s a chess piece. Ms. Cleona said Kieran was whittling a chess set for his father before he…died. She said Kieran would want me to finish it.”
When I didn’t immediately respond, he quietly went back to working the wood, back to the mane where with a careful twist of his fingers, a sliver of wood peeled away and fell into his lap.
“That’s nice of you to do that,” I said. I don’t know why I felt so awkward talking to the boy in that moment.
He shrugged his shoulders and continued his work. Yesterday, I wanted to tell Wesley that I would be leaving for a little while, but now I didn’t know how to approach the subject.
“Listen, Wes—” I started.
“Did one of the monsters get him?” he asked suddenly. He stopped working again; both hands lay in his lap. His voice was soft, but there was also a strength in it. “Did they get him like they got Ray?”
“No, Wesley,” I said. I put a hand on his shoulder and kept it there even though I felt him flinch. “The monsters didn’t get him.”
I could see he was struggling to hold his tears. “Then how did he die? Please, I want to know.”
“I don’t think knowing will make any difference about how you feel, Wesley. It won’t make it better.”
He turned to me now, his eyes rimmed red, tears threatening to fall at any moment. “I just need to know, okay? Why can’t I know? Why is everything around here a secret?”
Taken aback, my hand fell from his shoulder. “We’re only trying to protect you, Wesley. Sometimes there are things that kids just don’t need to know because they wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m not a child anymore!” He stood up suddenly and turned toward me. I never saw such anger in him and the sight of it now unnerved me “You can’t protect me. No one can protect me if those things want to get me or someone wants to kill me because they want to take our land or our food. You said you would protect my mom and dad. You said you would protect Ray. But you didn’t protect them and now they’re all dead!”
“Wesley, sit down—”
“No, I won’t!” Now his tears fell and his voice cracked, but his anger was raw and unfiltered. “You said we would be safe here, but we’re not! Kieran went out on a patrol and he came back dead. So stop treating me like a child and saying you want to protect me because you can’t! You can’t even protect yourself!”
Before I knew what was happening, he threw the wood and his knife to the ground and bolted. I stood up and called after him, but he continued to run toward the far end of the barracks. As he turned the corner, I saw Cody behind him, his furry tail wagging as he rounded the corner of the building.
My first instinct was to chase after him and try to calm him enough to talk about what just happened. From experience, though, I knew it was better to let him be alone to blow off his steam and calm down. It was obvious he was scared. He was afraid for himself, but more than that, he was afraid to lose anyone else he loved. At the bottom of everything, Wesley was afraid that he would be alone. He had lost his parents and his two best friends. He had also lost Sam and Kat in a way. Every time he thought he was safe, that he finally had a family again, and stability, he lost all of it.
Standing there, I felt like an ass. This definitely did not go as planned and I certainly did not handle the situation as well as I could have. Definitely not my finest moment. So feeling like a giant ass, I stooped down and retrieved the would-be chess piece and the stag handled knife that Wesley threw in his fit of anger.
After slipping the chess piece into my pocket, I studied the knife for a second. It was what we used to refer to as a shot shell puller knife, a switchblade of sorts, like the one Johnny Cade used to kill Bob in T
he Outsiders movie. It took a moment for me to figure out how to close the blade and then I dropped it into the same pocket with the wood block.
Consulting my watch, it was coming up on eight. We’d be leaving shortly to ensure we had plenty of daylight to make our journey. The last thing I wanted was to have to face the walking dead in the dark, where they had the advantage.
I headed back to the barracks to get my ruck and check my weapon before meeting up with Brian. I didn’t want to leave without talking to Wesley, but it looked like that wasn’t going to happen. It would be up to Lara to smooth things over between us. I hoped that I wouldn’t regret leaving the boy while we were on less than ideal terms.
* * *
Back inside, Lara sat on the edge of our bed. My ruck lay at her feet, ready. She spent the morning packing my bag. Now she stood when I came into to the room and she looked so cute I had to take her in my arms. Hugging her tightly against me, she said, “How did it go with Wesley?”
I held onto her a moment longer before finally letting her go. I sat at the edge of the bed and she sat beside me. “Definitely did not go as planned.” I told her how it all went ending with Wesley storming off.
“Aw honey,” she said. She put a hand on the back of my neck and gave it a squeeze. “You know he didn’t mean what he said. He’s just scared and confused.”
“I guess. I’m just worried that he’s been through so much.”
“He’ll be okay. He’s had a hard life but one thing about him is that he always bounces back.”
“He has had a hard life. He’s gone through more than anyone should have to go through. But a person can only accept so much before they break. What if Kieran’s death is Wesley’s breaking point?”
Now she grabbed my hand with one hand and with the other she took hold of my chin and turned my face toward her. “This will not defeat Wesley, you hear me? He’s strong, maybe stronger than anyone else I know. It’s healthy that he’s not keeping it all bottled up inside. It’s good that he’s letting it out. That’s a sign that this too shall pass.”
“Maybe you’re right,” I said.
“Maybe?”
“You’re right,” I relented.
She held my chin and locked eyes with me for a moment, then she planted a kiss on my lips. “I don’t want you carrying this with you out there. You have enough to worry about. I’ll talk to Wesley. In a few hours, he’ll have cooled off. He’ll be fine.”
“I wish I didn’t have to go.”
“You don’t mean that.”
“No, I don’t mean it like that. I can’t wait to bring Sam and Kat and the others here. I’m excited for that reunion. It’s just that with what happened to Kieran, there are so many unknowns right now. Anything could happen while I’m gone.”
“You don’t trust that Ian and I can handle things?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “I should probably just shut my mouth now. Everything is just coming out wrong.”
“Don’t worry, I know what you mean, Matty,” she said and smiled. “Everyone understands what has to be done and no one thinks you’re abandoning us to the wolves. We can handle things for a day or two. I’m more concerned about you being out there. I don’t have a good feeling about that at all.”
“We’ll be fine. Just a short carriage ride, load all the gang in the back, then head on home. Easy as pie.”
“You have no idea who or what is on that road. And there are only two of you. And your leg is wounded. You can easily be overwhelmed by a large group of crazies.”
I looked down at my leg and swung it back and forth. “The leg is fine. I can put my weight on it, no problem. I can run if I need to.”
“Why does it have to be just the two of you, anyway? Why not take a squad?”
“Lara, you know why.”
“Fine, I know why. But do you have to take Brian? No offense, but when you two are together trouble finds you.”
“He’s got experience, we know how each other works, and I trust that he has my back. I know he’d do anything for me. Did you have someone else in mind?”
She fixed me with that firm stare that dared me to challenge what she said next. “What about me?”
“No,” I said. I stood up from the bunk. I grabbed my bag and set it down where I’d sat only a second ago. “Not an option. Forget about it.”
Now Lara stood and grabbed one of the handles of my bag. Her message was clear: this discussion wasn’t over yet. It was just getting started.
“Don’t just shut me down like that. Why not me? I have experience and I have your back no matter what. And I don’t have a temper that’s likely to get me into trouble.”
“Lara, please. The decision was made. Everyone agreed, including you. I need you here to look after things.”
“Brian can look after things here. Don’t you think he’s better equipped to be in charge here while you’re gone?”
Not taking that bait, I said, “I need you to look after Wesley. I don’t want him to be alone.”
“Don’t use him as your excuse,” Lara said. She pulled the bag out of my hand and pushed it aside. “He has a whole farm full of people here to look after him. Why can’t you take me? Why can’t I be with you?”
“Damn it!” I shouted and turned away from Lara. I had only known her for several months, and I loved her so much, but she had a way of finding your scabs and picking at them until they were raw and bleeding again.
Facing her again, I grabbed her shoulders and pushed her down on to the bed. I saw fear and anger in her eyes all at once and my own anger immediately extinguished as quickly as it had washed over me.
“Lara, I can’t have you out there with me, I just can’t.” She started to respond, but I cut her off. “No, listen. This has nothing to do with you. I know you have experience. I know you have my back. I know you’d do anything for me. But I won’t be able to function with you there. I couldn’t bear the thought of anything happening to you. Every decision I make that involves you, I’d second guess myself. I’d let my feelings rule me, even though I know I shouldn’t. I wouldn’t have control over my rational self. Do you understand what I’m trying to say?”
“Just shut up and kiss me,” she said, tilting her freckled face up to meet me half way. Her mouth tasted like fresh raspberry jam.
“So we’re okay?” I asked.
She shook her head. “Yes. If me staying here is the best chance of you coming back, then I will stay.”
“It is.”
“Then let’s get you on your way. The sooner you leave, the sooner you can come back.”
When we reached the wagon, the whole clan was already gathered. Brian was in the driver’s seat and I could see the discomfort on his face. He hated the ceremony of a big send-off. If he had his way, we would have crept out before dawn while everyone was asleep.
Someone took my ruck while I hugged and shook hands. Everyone wished us luck and a quick return. I smiled, nodded, and reassured everyone. I scanned the crowd for Wesley, hoping to see him before we left, just to make sure he was okay. The way we left things was really nagging at me.
Finally, after what seemed like an hour, I hopped up into the passenger’s side of the wagon and looked down at Lara. Her red hair blew back in the light breeze of the morning and her green eyes shone like emeralds in the sunlight. She laid one hand on my thigh and gave it a good squeeze.
“Be safe,” she said. Now her eyes shifted from me to my brother. “Brian, you make sure he get back home to me. You understand?”
Brian nodded. “Don’t worry. I won’t let anything happen to my little brother. I’ll get him back home safe.”
“Go on now,” Lara said, stifling back tears.
Lifting the reins, Brian snapped them softly and got the horses moving. I felt a small pain in my lower back when the wagon jerked slightly and then we were on our way. Lara trotted beside the wagon a moment and then yelled, “I love you, Matthew!”
As I watched, she slowed down and came
to a stop, her hand raised to block the sun. I looked on for a moment, watching, as she grew smaller with distance as the horses moved at a clip down the frigid dirt road. By the time we exited the farm and traded dirt road for paved, I already felt homesick.
I kept thinking about Wesley and how we had left things. Anything could happen out here. I knew the risks. I hoped that the last encounter with Wesley would not be his last memory of me.
* * *
Just a tenth of a mile out of the farm, we spotted the first crazies. Alerted by the sound of hooves against pavement, I noticed heads begin to rise on my right. In the field just west of Seamus Finnegan’s house, four or five of the creatures rose and looked on after us, but did not give chase as we had already moved beyond their range of interest.
“I didn’t realize they were so close,” Brian said, echoing my own thought.
“I didn’t either.”
We sent patrols out daily to probe the borders of the farm. With few exceptions, they reported no sightings around the immediate property lines. The damn things were under the snow, unseen and undisturbed from the distance at which the patrols surveyed. But they were there, lurking just below the thin layers of snow.
As we rode, we continued to observe heads and shoulders rise from snow covered fields and hills. Watching them rise and then fall back reminded me of the Whack-a-Mole game the kids played at Chuck E Cheese’s or the like. Some were in groups five or ten strong while others slumbered solo. They still seemed affected by the cold weather. The abominations were not as spunky as they had been early on just after the outbreak.
“The cold does something to them,” my brother said, matter-of-factly. “They hibernate in the winter, like bears, to conserve their energy when food is more abundant. They become active when they hear something around them and they wake to eat. Right?”
