by AJ Powers
Before Kelsey could respond, the men came back in and walked up to Kelsey and Jeremy. Watson knelt down on the floor, resting his elbow on his knee. He looked directly into Kelsey’s eyes, “Now, I need you to do something for me. You aren’t going to like it, you may tell yourself that you won’t do it, but you have to understand what’s at stake here.”
Kelsey glared at him with contempt. “I’m not doing anything for you!”
“Oh, I think you will,” he said and turned around, nodding at a man standing just outside the door. The man stepped away for a moment before returning with the little girl.
“Dakota! No! Let her go, you sick monster!”
“Now, you will do what I say, or very bad things are gonna happen.”
“Mommy!” Dakota sobbed from across the room, shattering Kelsey’s heart like a dropped vase.
“Silas?” Watson said, maintaining his stare at Kelsey.
Kelsey looked over at Silas and saw him pull his gun out. “What are you doing? No! Stop!” she begged in vain.
Silas lifted the gun and pulled the trigger. Jeremy’s head whipped back violently, a red mist erupted from the exit wound.
“Jeremy!” she howled, thrashing in the chair, ignoring the pain she felt.
Her anger turned to devastation, and she broke down into a turbulent cry. Watson tried several times to speak but found it annoying to try to talk over her cries. By the time she calmed down, Dakota and the man were no longer there. She wasn’t sure if Dakota witnessed the execution. She prayed that she had not.
“Kelsey, look at me.” Watson said, his voice eerily calm. “That man right there was like a son to me. Do you think I would hesitate for a second to do the same to you or your kid? Take some time to think about it, we’ll come back and talk in the morning, see if you’re more accommodating.”
The men walked out and locked Kelsey inside with Jeremy’s lifeless body on the floor next to her. She wept for hours. Jeremy had wronged her in the past, but he spent the last days of his life trying to right those wrongs. The remorse he expressed to her over the incident with Clay and Charlie was genuine. He wasn’t a sociopath like Watson. Jeremy loved Kelsey even though she didn’t feel the same way. And ultimately, he paid for that love with his life.
Kelsey sat awake all night, wondering what Watson wanted from her. Whatever it was, he knew she wasn’t going to agree, and he preemptively struck fear into her heart.
What have I done?
Chapter 31
Clay sat there waiting like he did every Wednesday morning. It would likely be the last time though, because he planned to have the family moved out by the end of next week. It was unknown whether or not Watson would try to strike again, and if so, when that day would come. If Watson were to send more men, Clay wanted the place to be empty when they arrived. The thought of torching the entire floor crossed his mind, incinerating any useful items his family would be forced to leave behind.
His stomach was in knots. Clay wondered how much longer he could handle the stress. How much more of the battering could he take in a world that was growing more relentless by the day? He struggled to remember how many loved ones he had lost over the past seven years. Dozens. The staggering number was a heavy burden on his shoulders that grew exponentially with Charlie’s death. Somehow, it was different with Charlie. The others mostly died from illness—things outside of Clay’s control.
A boy named Pete—who was not officially part of the group but an ally of Clay’s—had been shot by a robber while he and Clay were scavenging a warehouse, but even that was different. Pete had been killed from a random attack by a desperate man looking for a way to survive. Such was life in the fallen world. Charlie’s death, on the other hand, was an indirect result of Clay’s actions. He wondered if he hadn’t threatened Watson the way he did, or perhaps been more cautious in some of his decision making, if Charlie might still be alive.
As he looked around the mostly empty library, Clay wondered if he would ever be able to recover from the train wreck that had become his life. But he had to—his loved ones still depended on him. It was perhaps the only thing that kept him going, the only thing that held insanity at bay. But every man has a limit, and Clay felt that his was fast approaching.
He paced back and forth in front of the checkout desk, waiting for someone who would never come. His time there was never really wasted, though. Even though Clay found himself alone dozens of hours a week while traveling, the library afforded him a protection so that he could actually lower his guard and just think. On the road, behind every stalled out car was a robbery waiting to happen. Behind every tree was a sociopath ready to kill. On the road, distraction was synonymous with death.
Clay walked up to a light box mounted to the wall. It was several feet in size and stuck out nearly six inches. The glass was caked with a layer of grime topped with several coats of dust. He had seen it before, but never paid much attention to it in the past. He used his sleeve to clean the glass, and after a few good swipes, an old colonial flag became visible. A replica no doubt but remarkable all the same. It was torn and artificially aged, riddled with stains. It was beautiful.
Clay thought back to the original settlers of the nation he had studied about in U.S. History class: how life in America back then, in many respects, was similar to life in the post-apocalyptic America. The colonists risked everything, including their own lives, to start a nation free from tyranny. Clay and his family faced many of the same risks each day, but not for anything as glamorous or significant as the birth of what would become the freest, most powerful nation on earth.
So many died, Clay thought to himself as he recalled some of the bloody battles of those days. But they died for something they truly believed in. They didn’t just fight for survival; they perished so that future generations could live. And live freely.
That’s when it hit him. Every day, Clay fought for something even more sacred than a great nation. He was fighting for life itself. He was defending the defenseless, providing for those in need. He was the head of this group he called his family. That was worth living for. It was worth dying for. It was Clay’s calling, and it took his eyes resting on the tattered old flag to really understand the significance of his job.
With that epiphany came a second wind, bringing with it life and energy. Suddenly, the thought of starting over with a new home didn’t feel quite so daunting. It was actually probably a good idea for the family to get out of the tower. Though there were many fond memories made there over the last four years, there were also quite a few bad ones. Although fewer in number, the nightmares that occurred there greatly outweighed the good. He didn’t like that Watson forced the matter, but Clay realized he was ready to go.
He looked down at his watch. It was 11:50. Nobody’s coming anyway, he thought, so he decided to head out early. He had a couple of leads on some places just outside the county, and he needed to prepare to scout them out first thing in the morning. One such location was only a seven mile hike from Liberty, which was his first choice. Once he made a decision on the where, he just needed to work out the logistics with Megan on the how and when.
He considered breaking the glass on the light box, so he could take the flag, but he decided not to. There was something almost poetic about seeing it behind glass, obscured beneath the grunge. Maybe it would provide another sojourner with some much-needed perspective as it had done for Clay.
Carefully stepping around collapsed shelves and flipped desks, Clay made his way to the exit. It was unusually bright, albeit hazy. He imagined that without the ash in the atmosphere, there would be a crystal clear blue sky hanging above. He could envision it.
Clay started walking when he heard a noise come from behind. He planted his foot into the ground and spun around like a door on a hinge. He whipped his rifle up and took aim.
“Howdy, stranger.”
Clay slowly lowered the rifle. A grin painted across his face. “Fancy seeing you here. I thought you were a loner?�
�� he joked.
Dusty smiled.
“Who else is going to save your butt when you pick a fight with a guy twice your size?” she quipped back.
Clay walked over and gave her a pat on the shoulder. “It’s good to see you, kid,” he said affectionately.
She gave him a hug and thanked him. Clay was glad to see her again. She looked even thinner than before. It had been a rough winter for everyone, but her appearance told an even harsher tale.
He reached into his bag and pulled out a couple slices of smoked venison. “Deer jerky?”
Before he finished the question, she had snatched the smoked meat from his hands and began scarfing it down. By the time she had finished the second piece, her eyes were watering. She looked at him like a puppy looks lovingly at its master, asking for another bowl of food.
“I don’t have any more on me, but we have some more food back home,” he said pointing in the general direction of the building. “You ready?”
Dusty nodded, and Clay turned to lead the way home. He was delighted Dusty had shown up. The whole trip to the library had done him a lot of good—a trip he initially decided he wasn’t going to bother with, but a tenacious feeling in the back of his head made him go anyway. He was glad he did.
“So, where’s home?” Dusty asked.
“See that big building there?” he said pointing at the tower up ahead.
“Yeah.”
“That’s it…for now.”
Dusty tilted her head, as if to ask why he would say that.
Clay explained what had happened over the past few weeks, reopening some wounds that had just started to heal, but he felt obligated to bring Dusty up to speed.
“I’m sorry about Charlie, Clay,” she said regretfully.
Clay knew Dusty had suffered as much loss as he had, perhaps even more, since she ended up alone for all those years. He wished that he had found her when she was younger so he could have protected her from the nightmares she had to endure. But then again, those nightmares, those traumatic experiences, shaped her into who she had become. And if there’s an upside to such a life, it’s how those horrible moments can reveal an underlying strength in an individual.
“So, where are we going next,” she said, including herself in the equation.
“There are a few places I need to check out. Hopefully, we’ll be ready to move sometime next week.”
“Gotcha,” Dusty replied.
As they walked into the small downtown area, Dusty stared up in awe at the towering structures. Even though there were only a few high rises, and all of them quite small when compared to the average skyscraper in a metropolitan area, Dusty was enthralled. She had never walked in the middle of any downtown before, not that she could remember anyway. The aging buildings were breathtaking, the dilapidation and overgrowth only enhanced the beauty.
“Wow,” she muttered to herself as she imagined what such a place would have been like when it was filled with people who weren’t trying to kill each other for food.
As they reached home, Clay warned her about the stair climb. Dusty brushed it off, as if she were a marathon runner about to tackle a 5K. Clay laughed at her overconfidence, giving her three flights before she would tire.
She held out longer than he thought. It wasn’t until she got to the seventh floor that she stopped on one of the landings to gasp for air. She held her finger out to Clay, indicating she needed a minute. Putting her hands on her hips, she tried to satisfy her aching lungs’ demands.
“Breathe in through your nose and out through your mouth,” Clay said before giving a demonstration.
Dusty looked at him with skepticism, but gave it a shot anyway. After doing it a few times, she felt noticeably better, though still needing to rest. “Thanks,” she said during an exhale.
After another 30 seconds, she was ready to go and made the rest of the climb with no problem. Clay went a little slower for her benefit, and she was grateful. Clay knocked on the door at the top of the stairs, and Tyler answered. He was excited to meet Dusty and, as always, ran down the hall telling the entire floor of their arrival. A few of the other kids returned with Tyler and all said hello to the new arrival as they crowded around her. Some tried to hug her, others were just too close. Dusty was quite shy; her interactions with other kids had been limited at best. She tried to be sociable, but Clay could see the angst in her eyes.
“All right, everyone,” Clay said holding his hands out and shooing the kids away, “give her some space. She’s had a long trip and needs to rest.”
The kids obeyed and backed off before turning to walk down the hall. Dusty released an audible sigh as the cushion of space between her and the others increased. Clay suspected that going from a life of isolation to a large family could be just as difficult a transition as the other way around. He would have to make sure to tell the other kids to be mindful of that.
As they entered the lobby, Clay pointed to his room. “Go ahead and drop your things off there until we find you a room, okay?”
“Okay.”
“I’ll be in there,” Clay said, pointing to the kitchen where he assumed Megan was busy preparing a meal.
Dusty headed for the conference room while Clay went the opposite direction, heading to the kitchen. He heard Megan talking to someone. He figured it was Lona. As Clay walked through the door, he was already talking. “I’ve got someone I—” Clay stopped abruptly. His mouth hung open. “Ms. Hawthorne?” he said with both surprise and concern in his voice. “What are you doing here?”
She managed to muster up a slight smile, exposing a few missing teeth. Her left eye was swollen and bloodshot with a significant amount of bruising covering most of her cheek.
“It’s Kelsey.”
Megan left and told the kids to stay out of the kitchen allowing Clay and Hawthorne to have an opportunity to talk in private. Clay was still in shock. He knew whatever was going on was serious; that much was clear. “What happened?” he asked, nerves rattled his voice. “Is she okay?”
“I don’t know, on both accounts,” Hawthorne responded. “She just told me that if anything ever happened to her to bring Dakota here. But, as you can see,” she said holding her hand up to her face, “they weren’t exactly okay with me leaving with the girl.”
Clay sighed as he sunk back into the uncomfortable folding chair. He had enough troubling thoughts swirling around his head as it was, and now with Hawthorne’s unexpected visit, life had just gotten infinitely more complicated. He tapped his finger on the table as he tried to process the words he just heard.
“She hadn’t quite been herself over the past couple of days. To be honest, it happened after she returned from visiting you.” Hawthorne adjusted in her seat. She felt awkward. “I know it’s not my business, but did something happen between you two?”
Clay closed his eyes as a wave of guilt struck him. The last words he spoke to Kelsey before telling her to leave echoed in his head. Now, he wasn’t sure if he would ever have an opportunity to undo the harm he inflicted that afternoon. Would he ever again be able to tell Kelsey how much he loves her? Or did she go to her grave believing that he hated her? The thought made him feel ill and furious at the same time.
He quickly brought Hawthorne up to speed about the recent events. Having to recount that twice in the last two hours was draining, but he didn’t have time to be tired or emotional. He had to focus on the situation at hand; he had another decision to make.
“So, what now?” Hawthorne asked.
“I go pay Watson a visit,” Clay said confidently. There was no question about it. He was going to the ranch.
Hawthorne smiled before grimacing. She was a tough old bird, but she had taken quite a lick by one of Silas’s men. What a coward! Clay thought. Hurting a woman, especially one trying to protect a child, was the ultimate act of a weak man. It should have come as no surprise from a guy acting on the orders of an even bigger coward.
Megan came into the room and sat down across the
table from Clay. “Lona gave Dusty some clean clothes and is now showing her around. She seems like a nice girl.”
“She is,” Clay agreed.
“So,” Megan said as a means to jump into the conversation.
Clay looked at her with tired eyes. The past two weeks had felt like years, and he was struggling to find enough energy to get out of bed, let alone take on the daily demands of life. “Megan, we need to pack up everything we can carry and head to Northfield.”
It was a terrible plan, but it was the best one he had. Taking Geoffrey up on his offer would be a no-brainer if it was just a day’s hike away, but it wasn’t. Realistically, with the kids and the supplies they would be bringing, it would likely take the better part of two weeks. With a group that size, most of which would be children, it was a risk Clay hated to take. To make matters worse, he wouldn’t be traveling with them, at least, not at first.
He thought about just having everyone stay in Liberty until he could scout out those other locations, but his visit to Watson’s farm later would not be a pleasant one, so they needed to be out of the area for good. Northfield was the answer.
Megan looked at Clay and wanted to argue, but she could tell he had already made up his mind. Clay was her younger brother, but at some point he stepped up and became the head of the family. She supported his role, and no matter how much stress it was going to put on her, she trusted his leadership.
“So, here’s the deal,” Clay said as he clasped his hands and rested them on the table. “We need to be packed and ready to go tonight. You and the kids will head to Vlad’s first thing in the morning, and not a minute later,” he said leaving no room to negotiate.
“Wait, me and the kids? Where are you going to be?”
“I can’t leave Kelsey and Dakota there...”
“Clay, I don’t know if I—”
“Yes you can. Besides, Blake is getting pretty good with that rifle, and Dusty has already proven herself capable. You guys will be fine. If you leave just before dawn, you should be able to make it to Vlad’s by nightfall, but you’ll need to move fast. Kelsey, Dakota, and I will meet up with you there,” he said not knowing for sure if either were still alive. “You’re going to have to push the kids pretty hard to get to Liberty in one day, so take some time to rest. If after two days we aren’t there, you guys keep heading to Northfield, and we’ll catch up to you there.”
