Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3 (33 page)

“Okay,” Macy muttered, still concerned. She hadn’t seen Tala this way before. Anyone coming down with an illness concerned them all. Naturally, fearing sickness after the pandemic came easily. For now Macy let her suspicions go, but she vowed to herself to keep an extra eye on Tala all the same.

On her way to gear up for the outdoors, Macy stopped to see Ennis. He gazed up at her, and when she smiled at him he reached up and patted her on the arm as if to affirm her existence, but no words trailed behind the effort. He absently returned his attention to the blaze of the woodstove, as Macy readjusted the blanket around him and donned her jacket, which Sam had lined with wolf fur to keep her warmed through in this prolonged, frigid winter. She holstered her pistol and slung her bow and quiver around her back.

She kissed him on the cheek. “Bye, mister.”

Ennis peered up into her blue eyes again. “Yep. You be careful, girl. Keep your ears open, your eyes steady, and trust your instincts. Always trust your instincts out there. They’ll save your life.”

“I will, Ennis.” She patted him, and he held her hand a moment too long. She smiled at him and pulled away.

~ ~ ~

Macy had to blink to let her eyes adjust to the bright morning light reflecting off the snow. The quick rhythm of Bang shoveling a trail to the chicken coop with his little shovel greeted her as she put on her gloves. Graham tinkered under the hood of the Scout, topping off fluids for the hunting party. “We’re up, Bang,” she shouted. “Guard duty!”

“Did you call in?” Graham asked.

“Yes, Graham. It’s all good.”

“Did he ask about the cameras again?”

“No, I think he’s given up on that one.”

“Last time I talked to him, he brought the subject up and griped about the injustice. I told him to take it up with Sam. Rick’s not often without something to say,” Graham chuckled, lowering the hood with a
clank
.

“Too bad. I can’t believe they spied on us for so long.”

“Well, it’s a good thing, considering what happened.”

“He still insists I use Twin Two,” Macy said dryly.

Graham laughed out loud while Bang ran up to Macy, ready to go on duty.

“Any eggs yet?” she asked Bang.

“Nope, not yet. I think the weather is still too cold for them.”

Macy handed him a hand warmer Tala had made with rice sewn into little flannel bags warmed in the oven right alongside breakfast. She kept them by the door in the morning so the watchers’ hands wouldn’t freeze. Macy put one in each of Bang’s pockets and helped him to zip up his jacket.

“I get the lake today,” she told him with a smile.

“I know. See ya,” Bang said, and skipped away toward the driveway with Sheriff giving chase behind him. The lakeside provided more entertainment with wildlife than did driveway duty.

Macy waved at Graham, who waved back as she walked down the shoveled trail to the lake. The snow crunched and compressed beneath her boots as she walked. She squinted her eyes at the overwhelming brightness, the sun reflecting off the white snow in the clearing. Down the trail and in the shade, the temperature dropped further. Rick had an outside camera on her, though she’d forgotten exactly where, and she waved a greeting blindly toward its general area. It was all in the name of security, but having eyes everywhere still gave Macy the creeps. She didn’t like always being spied on.

Hearing her twin, Marcy, stirring in the deer blind, she buffered herself for the possible quarrel she had come to expect these days.

“You’re late again,” Marcy accused.

“I am not. Get off your high horse, Marcy. I just got here.”

“Remember, girls—no arguing!” Graham’s voice came over the handheld radio, warning them both.

Marcy thrust the radio into her sister’s hand. “You started it.”

“Stop doing this, Marcy. I don’t want to clean out the waste box again, do you?” Macy whispered sternly while holding the radio muffled against her jacket.

Marcy stomped off up the trail without another word, and Macy wondered why her sister had a need to drive a wedge of discontent between them every chance she got. She huffed out a breath, then braced her boot toe on the first step of the deer stand as she climbed up into position. She checked the perimeter with the binoculars they kept in the stand. Other than a small gray deer trying to sip from the frozen shoreline to the west of the lake, isolation reigned. She called in her report to Graham, knowing he would be expecting it on time. Afterward, she sat back and reflected on her troubled relationship with her twin.

Happy that Marcy would be gone for a few days, Macy couldn’t understand her sister took every opportunity to needle her about something, anything. They were turning sixteen next month, and Tala planned to make a real cake for them—
if
one of the chickens laid an egg. Macy scoffed at herself. Last year at this time, she’d selfishly begged her mom and dad for an iPod, and now she looked forward to a chicken laying an egg so a simple cake might commemorate her and her sister’s day of birth. They had lived on, despite the fall. So much had changed in only a few months.

A tear slid down her cheek anyway. She missed her mom and dad more than anything. She’d almost trade Marcy for either one of them right now.
Almost.

The honking of approaching geese alerted Macy before she could see them, circling around and landing on the frozen lake. “Noisy birds,” she said to herself. They reminded her of SeaTac Airport, where the planes would arc around as they lined up to come in for a landing; that seemed so distant now.

Her melancholy was broken by a gray shape darting out from the opposite end of the lake, chasing one of the waterfowl and sliding on the ice. Her heartbeat hastened until she felt the pounding even in her slim wrists. She drew icy air sharply into her lungs, depressed the microphone on the radio, and repeated in an intentionally calm voice three times, the way Rick had trained her, “Wolf on the lake, wolf on the lake, wolf on the lake.”

Almost instantly, Graham, Sam, and Mark charged down the trail. Always armed and ready, the men were a formidable crew in any contingency. A wolf or bear sighting always meant serious business: the potential for meat and fur.

As Macy watched, two more of the dark animals raced onto the ice, but she didn’t even try to aim at the creatures with her pistol or bow. The three men rushed past her and got into position. The three wolves were within sight, and if there wasn’t a potential for a good hunt, the scene would have been comical: the wolves slipped and slid on the ice as the geese easily flapped and flew away.

Graham aimed and shot one wolf, dropping it quickly; the others aimed for the two fleeing toward the tree line. The remaining geese took flight in a rush as the booming gunfire resounded.

Mark took down his mark, but Sam didn’t, and everyone sucked in a breath at this rare miss as the lone wolf took off. Still, they counted themselves lucky to have nabbed two.

“Good job, Macy girl,” Graham said while the other two men went out to retrieve the kills. “It’s a good thing I got the truck ready for the trip this morning. Looks like I’ll be skinning in the greenhouse the rest of the day.”

Graham had learned to skin animals from his father, but Sam had taught him several new tips and tricks for preserving the pelts so nothing was wasted. Everything would eventually be made into warm coats, blankets, or mittens. Macy knew Graham didn’t enjoy the tedious skinning process any more than he or the rest of them had enjoyed the rift that processing the kills caused between Tala and Sam.

Graham mused over how, even now, the great wolf debate raged on. Thankfully they’d all came to an agreement over their first debate. Sam wisely never wasted anything from various hunts of deer or even bear. Tala, always accommodating, dried and preserved all cuts of game. However, when it came to wolf, she put her foot down. Tala’s Indian heritage held her back from eating wolf meat. She refused to even handle the meat or the pelts since her traditions forbid consumption of wolf flesh.

Her grandparents had taught her this traditional taboo. Though she couldn’t explain why, she said the ritual had something to do with the animal’s soul. Sam agreed, instead of poking fun at her as she expected. Each of them held something sacred, and this was hers. After all,
Tala
meant “wolf.”

The prospect of starvation had changed things, though, so they had made a contingency compromise: they would forgo eating the meat unless starvation became a factor. If or when food became short, all bets were off, and Graham said he’d personally make smoked wolf sausage if Tala didn’t want to handle the kills herself. So, for now, they consumed all food except wolf meat.

Tala, typically easygoing and sensible, had surprised them when she’d adamantly spoken up about her aversion to the meat. But they’d all listened, and they granted her this one; Tala made few demands.

Even Sam admitted later that he’d never liked the taste of the gamey meat. Wolf meat tasted surprisingly too much like chicken, and it felt too close to eating your own dog. Since they all loved and admired Sheriff, eating wolf would be a particular turnoff.

For now Graham surveyed the ice as the guys slid the gray wolves to shore. Mark dropped his and ran up the trail to grab a sled, huffing and puffing, his breath in clouds.

At the same time, Tala’s voice crackled over the radio clipped to Graham’s belt, telling him she called in the disturbance to the preppers’ camp so they wouldn’t worry over hearing the commotion coming from their direction. “Thanks, babe,” he said.

Sheriff came up to inspect Mark’s kill, sniffing the large wolf, then trotting on to sniff the next one, only four feet away.

“Macy, can you call in to Tala and have her radio Rick? I need a child visitation tonight before dark please. I’ll be gone for a few days, so I’d like to lay eyes on Addy before we head out,” Sam asked.

“Sure, Sam. I should have requested the visit earlier.” Macy relayed the message right away.

“I’ll help you get these hung before I head out,” Sam said to Graham.

Graham shook his head. “No need. Macy and I can handle it. She has muscles. You go spend time with Addy before you go.”

“I just want to see her for a moment or two,” Sam said.

Soon the sound of Mark and the sled dragging behind him drew closer. The boy did everything in fast motion these days. They were amazed at how well he had fully recovered from his unfortunate experience with the preppers. Though they’d had their reasons, it had been tough on the kid. When they’d first found him, he was a wreck, and now the young man could outdo both Graham and Sam at most any task.

“All right, let’s get these up to the greenhouse,” Graham said.

“I’ve got to finish packing,” Sam said. He headed back to camp, closely followed by Graham and Mark dragging the sled with the two wolves piled on it.

Macy waved good-bye to them as they trudged back up the trail. Again she lifted her binoculars and checked all corners in her view and, after a moment, listened again to the lonely silence wafting across the frozen lake before her.

“All right, let’s try this again,” Graham said, “you two hold him by the shoulders and, on my count of three, we’ll heave him upward, and I’ll slide his”—he took a breath and wiped the sweat from his brow with his shirtsleeve—“back leg onto the hook. Ready?” Another deep breath. “One, two,
heave
.”

As Graham lifted the tail end of the wolf, Macy and Bang attempted to heft the rest of the weight high enough for Graham to slip one back leg over the hook by the sliced opening between the bone and tendon.

Graham’s arms and shoulders shook from the effort of maintaining a steady hold on the animal. Macy and Bang grunted right along with him as they hoisted the animal into position. Triumphantly, Graham pulled the catch through the slice, and they slowly let go of the weight, releasing the breaths they’d held during the task.

“Whew, big guy! He must weigh close to a hundred and fifty pounds,” Graham panted.

Bang laughed. “He’s as big as you!”

Sam walked into the greenhouse, “Hey, I said I’d give you a hand with that.” He strode to the smaller wolf, still lying on the sled, and lifted one back leg, shoving his thumb through the skin at the right place between tendon and bone. Then, he pulled the hook down, while at the same time hoisting the leg up. He slipped the hook through the slot in the animal’s leg and hauled it aloft. He struggled a little, but his long sinewy muscles, accustomed to this type of work, proved their worth, and he let out a steady breath; it was nothing compared to Graham’s exertion.

“How the heck did you do that?” Graham asked incredulously while Macy and Bang laughed.

Sam, never one to show up another man, said simply, “This one weighs less. I’m off to visit Addy. Be back later.”

~ ~ ~

Sam busted through the layered snow, breaking a new path. It had snowed since the last time he’d traveled the trail to where the Skagit River bordered the prepper camp. The sun hung lower with midafternoon, behind the evergreen treetops, though you couldn’t tell through the darkness of the thick forest; it might as well be late evening. Sam came closer to the rendezvous spot, thinking how the tinkling sound of the frozen river would soon become a roar as the spring snowmelt came from high in the Cascades. He walked into the clearing and brushed the weightless sugar snow off the boulder that he’d come to use as a waiting stool.

He fished the latest carving out of his jacket pocket and sat. This one was a gray wolf, like the one he’d shot at today and missed. He took out his knife and made a few detailed curving cuts along the chest of the animal to highlight the wolf’s furry mane. Finally he scraped the soft wood smooth with the edge of the blade to finish the carving off.

Pretty soon his girl wended her way through the long, desiccated brush with Clarisse right beside her. Addy waved, her face lighting up when she spotted him. “Hi, Daddy!” she hollered across the river distance to Sam.

“Hi, darlin’!” Sam yelled back. How he masked his pain remained a mystery to him, but he was still glad he had the strength to shield her from the wretchedness within himself.

“Look at my hair, Daddy,” Addy said and pulled her knit hat off. Sam’s heart sank at the sight. His dismay must have showed because Clarisse turned the child to show him the back of her head.

“She wanted to try my hairstyle!” Clarisse shouted. “She still has all her beautiful long hair, Sam.”

“It’s beautiful, baby.”

He remembered many evenings watching his little girl sitting on her mother’s lap as she pulled the boar bristle hairbrush through her locks, singing a lyrical tune. He missed brushing Addy’s hair himself, like he’d done after her mother’s death, smelling the sweetness of her, rosy cheeked in clean pajamas fresh after her bath. Missing Addy and her mother kept him in a state of constant agony. “Thank you, Clarisse, for watching out for her,” he said.

“Oh, no problem, Sam. We get along quite well.” Clarisse hugged the girl to her side.

“I brought you a new one, Addy,” he said, getting ready to toss the wolf carving overhand to the pine trunk, as always.

Clarisse took a baggie out of her pocket and handed it to Addy, who ran over to retrieve the figurine. There was little risk she would contract the virus from something Sam had handled, but they guarded against it anyway.

“Thank you, Daddy! It’s beautiful,” Addy said, examining the wolf carving through the plastic of the bag.

“You’re welcome,” Sam said, “Addy, I have to go on a hunt for a few days, but I’ll be back soon, okay?”

“Okay, Daddy.” She frowned as a thought crossed her mind. “But you will come back, right?”

“Yes, Addy. I’ll always come back to you. I won’t ever leave you, baby.”

“Daddy, I miss you,” Addy said loud enough for Sam to catch the disappointment in her voice, over the expanse; more of a confused question than a statement. She didn’t understand their circumstances. How could she, when even he walked around in a half-life, constantly bargaining for any remedy in silence?

“I miss you more, sweetheart.” Sam’s own voice fractured. “I won’t be gone more than three days. Draw me pictures, okay?”

“Okay, I will. I love you, Daddy. Be careful on your hunt,” Addy said, waving her little left hand while she held the beloved wood carving to her chest with the right. She blew her dad a kiss over the void, and Sam caught it and sent another back to her, not at all worried how foolish the ritual might seem to Clarisse.

“Bye, Clarisse,” Sam said, but he suspected she didn’t trust her voice to say it back. She simply waved good-bye to Sam, as he visually guarded them, watching them walk back into the forest and out of sight.

Sam’s heartache made him tremble. “Dammit,” he said under his breath as he placed both hands above his knees and doubled over, facing the snowy ground below.

The merciless sorrow infiltrated his soul with an agony as incessant as he imagined a crucifixion must produce. He awoke each morning and met the day filled with the knowledge of where he was, and why, and what he’d left behind, then carried the same pain with him into sleep. Sometimes his visits with Addy sustained him enough to subsist, but others, like this one, left him feeling like a prisoner, powerless to protect himself and his daughter from the madness.

“I will never leave you,” Sam whispered the vow. He took his time getting back to Graham’s camp.