by Steven Smith
"Hey, Murph," called Christian. "Glad to see you're still alive."
A shot sounded from up the hill toward the center of the neighborhood. "Yeah, me too," answered Murphy, squinting in the direction of shot. "Better get inside. This ass-hat has been taking potshots at us all morning. He can't shoot worth a damn, but even a moron can get lucky."
Mike looked at Christian. "You want us to go get him?"
Christian thought for a moment. One guy taking ineffective shots at a house from that distance didn't make sense unless he was crazy, which was a possibility, or a probe for a larger group. "Yeah, go get him. See if he's with a larger bunch."
Mike nodded, motioned his team to follow him and took off.
"They look like capable people," observed Murphy.
"Yep," Christian replied. "Let's get you loaded up and see if we can make it back to Stonemont in time for supper."
Murphy smiled. "Sounds good."
It took them over two hours to carry all the guns and ammo up from the safe room and out to the truck, and Murphy was in the process of lowering the flags when Mike returned with only two scouts, one with a field dressing on his left arm.
"What happened?" asked Christian.
"The guy said he was from a big outfit run by a guy called 'Grim', headquartered at an old shopping center somewhere north of here. I sent the other scouts with him to check it out. They'll meet us back at Stonemont when they get done. Alex here caught one in the arm, but it went straight through. He'll be okay."
Christian nodded. "Okay. Mike, this is Tom Murphy. Tom, this is Mike Carpenter, our head of scouts."
The two men shook hands.
"I noticed your flags before you struck them," said Mike. "First Recon."
"Fourth AT," answered Murphy. "How did you get that guy to cooperate so quickly?"
"We were maximally persuasive," Mike answered with a straight face. "He was happy to answer our questions. When the other scouts get back we'll see if he told us the truth."
They turned to see Patty, Tommy and Saoirse carrying large plastic garbage bags out of the house. "I told them to round up their best quality clothing," said Murphy. "Plus all boots with some miles left in them. Is there anything else you would suggest for moving to Stonemont?"
Christian shook his head. "You'll find we have pretty much everything you need. Just bring anything of personal importance like pictures, family documents and such."
"We have those," answered Murphy. "Too bad most of our pictures are on discs".
Christian smiled. "Bring them. We have working computers."
For a second time, Murphy looked surprised. "You're kidding me."
"Nope. My uncle is one who prepared for comfort and pleasure, not just survival. He used to tell us that if a catastrophe happened, he didn’t just want to be ready, he didn't want to notice."
"He sounds like a man with a plan."
Christian chuckled. "That's the truth. You'll see when we get to Stonemont."
After Patty retrieved the family picture discs, they loaded up and headed out, the Murphys riding with Christian. Tom watched the countryside with the curiosity and critical eye of one who hadn't ventured far from home in a while. He noted the easy discipline of the scouts and how they communicated comfortably with Christian and Mike. It wasn't like the military, but it seemed to work.
As they drove, he looked at his wife and kids. For the past month, he had fought to keep the fear of them dying suppressed, shoved deep down inside. Now, watching their faces looking out the windows of a vehicle taking them to a new life, the fear was released to meet an almost ethereal joy. The erupting combination was almost too much for him and he breathed a prayer he had long hoped he could pray. Tonight, his wife, his son and his daughter would join him in a family prayer of thanks.
He gritted his teeth and turned to look out the side window to hide the emotions beginning to escape his iron self-control.
29
Patty Murphy took a bite of flame grilled peppered steak, savoring the flavor she had almost forgotten and thought she would never taste again.
The trip to Stonemont had been uneventful, a mixture of sadness and hope, but their arrival had been almost more than they could believe after months of isolation and watching their neighbors slowly die or disappear.
Their first contact at the intake gate had indicated an organized operation, and their arrival at the main gate brought the first feeling of real safety she had felt in months. As they drove up the long drive, they saw the large stone and log house that sat on the top of the hill, then, cresting the hill, the large commons dominated by the main hall.
The level of activity had been shocking. Hundreds of people were working, some on the main hall, some on cabins arranged around the perimeter of the field and others walking purposefully from one place to another. The noise seemed strange but welcome after months of near silence, and the sounds of laughter and friendly chatter was almost too much for her to retain her stoic facade.
They had been welcomed by the Wyatts with a warmth that contrasted with the cautious reticence of her own family, and settled in the lower level apartment of the house. Kelly, Ann and Tracy had helped her put fresh linens on the beds and towels in the bathroom while Jim, Christian, Mike and Bill had helped Tom and Tommy carry their personal belongings in from the trucks. The feel of crisp clean sheets, freshly vacuumed carpet under her bare feet and a long hot shower complete with scented body wash, shampoo and conditioner had been euphoric, not to mention the softness of the fleece top and cotton yoga pants Kelly had loaned her. Now she found herself running her fingertip around the edge of the sparkling dinnerware in front of her as if to assure herself of its reality.
She was so engrossed in her thoughts that she didn't realize someone had said something to her until she saw that everyone was looking in her direction.
"I'm sorry," she said, looking around confused.
"Don't be sorry, Patty," said Ann. "I think I was a zombie my first night here, and you've been out there for six months, not the two days I was. I just asked if you all are getting settled in alright."
Patty nodded. "Oh yes, I can't tell you how...," then her emotions overflowed, her voice broke and the tears she had been able to contain up to that moment escaped as she looked at the gaunt faces of her husband and children. "I can't thank you all enough. We can't thank you … enough ..." Her shoulders heaved as her sobs racked her body and she hid her face in her hands.
Kelly got up and bent over her, followed quickly by Ann, and they wrapped their arms around her, holding her tightly until her sobs slowly subsided.
Tom watched his wife and the two women with his elbows on the table, clasped hands held firmly together in front of his mouth, his eyes welling with tears.
After a minute, Jim got to his feet with his glass in his hand. "I've always liked people who cry at the right things." He raised his glass. "To Patty, Tom and the Murphy family. Welcome to Stonemont."
As they drank the toast, Tom rose to his feet and looked around the table. It took him a moment to gather his thoughts and his will before he spoke.
"Four days ago, I was ready to take my family into the woods to try to survive and start some kind of new life. Though I never shared this with anyone, even Patty, I knew it would be a miracle if we all survived until spring. So, I prayed for a miracle. I prayed hard."
He paused, looking at each member of his family and remembering his heartsick dread that any of them would die. He caught the choke in his throat, then looked at those from Stonemont.
"Like he’s done so many times in my life, God answered my prayers. He gave me a miracle, though not the one I was praying for. He gave me a better one. The miracle he sent us was Stonemont."
He raised his glass, noticing that his normally rock steady hand was shaking. He gripped his glass more tightly, both to stop the shaking and to focus his mind. Again, he looked around at the tear-stained faces of his family, taking a moment to look closely at each one and l
etting his love for them gain a full hold on his mind and in his heart. Taking a deep breath, he forced his body to a rigidity that he hoped would control his hand and his voice. When he finally thought that he could control them, he looked at each of their hosts and spoke with a voice that came out like a gravelly, choking whisper.
"To Stonemont."
