Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3 (37 page)

Hitting the windshield faster than the wipers kept up, the snowfall came down like a cascading tatted drape. Sam, nearly unable to get a glimpse through the veil, cursed the storm. He knew it wouldn’t let up anytime soon. The tires struggled through the deepening snow, though the Scout was in four-wheel drive.

“We’re going to have to stop,” Mark concluded.

Sam nodded. They had no other choice. Since they’d left the first hunting spot, the weather had grown increasingly bad. Not only that, the wind was picking up past a howl. Yesterday morning’s clear sky had given no warning of these formidable conditions to come. They’d have to find a place out of the freezing temperatures and hole up through the storm.

“Yeah, I’m trying to drive over to that house there. Can you make out the structure now?” Sam said, pointing.

“Barely.” Mark leaned forward to gain a better view through the vertical blanket of snow.

“At least we won’t freeze to death inside,” Sam said as he headed down to where he hoped the driveway led to the farmhouse, which sat in the middle of an open snow-covered field.

Marcy had fallen asleep after shooting her first kill. In the mirror, Sam saw a flicker of motion as she sat up.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

Sam glanced at Mark, saw him clench his jaw and draw in his eyebrows, frowning as if in contemplation of how much to reveal to her. He nodded to the youth. They were in this together. All of them. Marcy had a right to know.

Mark still tried to downplay the danger. “We’ve hit a little snowstorm,” he said. “We’re going to hide out until the blizzard passes, in a house down here.”

Mark glanced briefly at Sam as if to say,
She doesn’t need the full extent of this
.
Though he didn’t fully agree, Sam gave him a subtle nod. He’d probably have done the same thing if it was his wife involved; momentarily it caused him to think back to the time before she died.

Marcy sat up and immediately looked out—all around, front to back, side to side. The view out each window of the Scout was completely opaque. The snow crunching below the tires was audible even over the vicious sound of the wind against the side of the truck, shaking the vehicle from side to side with a terrible force. From the worried look on her face, Sam knew Mark’s calling it “a little snowstorm” hadn’t really fooled Marcy.

“What if we can’t get to the house?” He heard her breathing rasp in and out, too quickly.
Was Marcy claustrophobic?

“Don’t worry, girl. We’ll be fine in the truck,” Sam said. “A bit colder, but fine.” The temperature dropped quickly, and he knew they’d have a hard time staying warm in the truck cab, but Mark’s idea of soft-pedaling the danger might not be so wrong. Marcy didn’t need to be aware of the precariousness of their situation yet.

The harshness of the season made no sense. As the pandemic affected human life, so too did the weather seem hell-bent on damning the earth.

“Are we going to be able to drive over there?” Marcy asked.

Sam leaned into the windshield, trying to maneuver in the direction of the house. At the same time he fought unpredictable wind gusts blowing him first one way and then the other, banking the truck rudely to either side. “Too early to say yet,” he replied after an anxious moment that lingered too long.

As he got even closer, the snow seemed to increase even more, if that were possible. “I’m worried about running into a ditch,” he said. “Mark, open your door and see if you can detect anything, like an indentation where a drainage ditch might be. I think we’re on the driveway, but I can’t tell.”

Mark opened his door about five inches, but just then the wind shifted and blew an opaque stream of snow into the cab. That blinded Sam even more and he hollered, “Okay, shut the door!”

Mark slammed it, straining hard against the wind. “I can’t tell. Everything is so white. I’ve never seen winter conditions this bad. I’ve lived in this area all my life.”

Sam saw an expression of terror on Marcy’s face as she leaned forward from the backseat, between him and Mark. “It’s okay,” he told her. “We’ll be fine. Once we get into that house, we’ll start a fire and warm up.” They sat silently, listening to the raging storm with eerie contemplation as the truck crept along.

“I thought you said this would be the last
safe
time to go on a hunt,” Marcy said, her tone accusatory.

“Marcy!” Mark snapped. “The weather is not Sam’s fault.”

“It’s all right, Mark,” Sam said. “She’s just scared.”

As he said the words meant to calm the both of them, the truck slid and then dipped down on the driver’s side. After letting up off the gas, Sam put his foot on the brake. He stopped and tried reverse, hoping to gain some traction but, it was no use. He gave the gas pedal a tentative push, but the wheel only spun, then the whole tire dipped down into an invisible gully. He knew not to try again; it would risked digging the truck’s tires in deeper.

After turning off the engine and shifting into park, he cut the headlights. “No sense in draining the battery. Mark, hand me the spotlight,” Sam said in the pitch dark as blasts of wind rocked the truck. They could only sit, a captive audience to the weather’s tantrum.

Mark got the battery-powered spotlight going, but all it did was reflect its light back against the snow. However hard Sam tried, he couldn’t make out a damn thing ahead of them. The last time he’d glimpsed the house, he’d guessed they were about a quarter of a mile away, but now it couldn’t be more than a hundred feet in the distance. Yet there was no way he trusted walking that far without the risk of getting lost in the snow and freezing temperatures and missing their salvation all together.

“Well, hell,” Sam said, when nothing better came to mind. He shut off the spotlight, and the three of them let the sound of the wind settle around them for a time.

“We can’t even spot the house from here?” Marcy asked.

“Barely, but I don’t know if we should risk taking a chance on foot in these conditions,” Sam said.

“Do we have more rope?” Mark asked.

“Yeah. I know what you’re thinkin,’ but I’m not so sure blindly going out there, even tethered with a rope, is a good idea right now,” Sam warned.

“Look. I can run a line from the truck and make my way to the house. If I can’t find the house, I’ll just walk back,” Mark argued. By this time the howling wind had picked up even more and they were nearly shouting to one another, to be heard.

“Let’s wait a while. The storm might die down some,” Sam advised; he silently cursed himself, knowing they were now stuck in a snowstorm. He looked out his side window into the blizzard and thought of Addy and his promise to her—knowing, no matter what the cost, he would keep his word.

After signing off the radio, Tala checked on Ennis. His heavy lids blinked as he stared into the woodstove, and his expression bore the look of pained frustration. In any event, he hadn’t moved much. She knelt down beside him and felt his shins, to make sure he wasn’t getting too much radiant heat from the fire. When he noticed her, she smiled at him in response.

“Are you in terrible pain? Would you like to go lie down, sleep a little and let the meds work?”

He nodded, so she helped him up and guided him into the bunkroom and told him when to sit down as she backed him into the bunk mattress. He did so willingly, like a child being led by his mother, and chuckled at her attentiveness. Then she helped him lie down and covered him up with his blanket, then added another one since the bunkroom felt cold and drafty. He looked up at her with worry in his eyes. He whispered, “Whatever is bothering you, missy, trust Graham to do the right thing with your worries.” His eyelids fluttered closed. She suspected he might be worn out from fighting the pain for so long. He couldn’t possibly know what troubled her, and she shut the bunkroom door to let him rest.

When her tears started to fall, she brushed them away and hurried into the bathroom to find the medical kit she and Clarisse had talked about earlier. She willed each step closer by consolation and a little bit of self-bargaining. The med kit from the preppers included almost everything they needed except for the one thing Ennis needed.

After first putting aside a large tome of medication definitions Graham had found somewhere on his journey here, she pulled the kit out from under the sink. It was an olive drab nylon backpack that strapped on at a moment’s notice if they needed to bug out. She brushed over the various paper-wrapped bandages, pain medication packs, vials of ointment, and prefilled Epi pens until she found the packets of birth control pills rubber-banded together toward the back. She took out two one-month packs for the girls and set them on the counter. Then she looked for the pregnancy test wands.

She hadn’t told Clarisse what she suspected. The given advice would be to terminate, because they just weren’t sure what would happen to a new life.

She and Clarisse had talked openly about most things over the past several months, but Tala just couldn’t part with this suspicion—not yet. Her cycle hadn’t regulated since her miscarriage. It had come and gone, but never regulated as in normal times. Stress made cycles irregular, but a late period coupled with morning nausea reminded her of her previous pregnancy and the devastating loss.

She had been taking the pills Clarisse gave to her, but she had also been intimate with Graham on more than one occasion. She loved him, and they needed each other, especially now.

Her hand brushed over a few paper-wrapped sticks standing upright. She read the black military lettering and pulled one out. As she held the test kit before her, the package vibrated as her hands trembled. The answers and implications were within reach; all the decisions she’d have to face, flashed before her. With a small window of privacy, with only Ennis resting in the cabin, she thought now would be the best time to go ahead and get the procedure over with so she’d know for sure. She quickly zipped up the medical kit and returned it to its place under the sink.

She closed the door quietly, tore open the test kit and began the procedure, remembering the first time she’d gone through this routine. All the while, she couldn’t keep her hands from shaking with fear of the results. “Please no, please no,” she chanted to herself over and over, quietly sobbing. She finally pulled the wand up, braving a peek . . . and now she knew. No more waiting. No more uncertainty.

The pit of her stomach tightened, and her widened eyes flooded with tears from shock of the affirmation. Both happy and horrified, as she began to allow herself to sob, a loud commotion sounded from the living room. She quickly pocketed the supplies into her gray cable sweater and wiped away the tears as Bang’s small footsteps came toward the bathroom door.

He had nearly bumped into her as he rounded the corner with reddened cheeks and freezing, chapped hands. His ear-to-ear grin told her he’d been having fun with Graham and Macy outside. Their loud talking and boisterous mood cut through her desperation, the fear she’d created for herself there in the small bathroom as she contemplated the possibility of a new life in their midst, and the equally frightening possibility of having to end it.

“You guys sound happy,” she heard herself say.

“Graham raced me to the door, but he tripped and fell,” Bang said.

“I didn’t fall. Macy shoved me,” Graham defended himself, making Macy laugh maniacally and chase him.

Graham, continuing the game, turned on Macy. She emitted a piercing scream and ran in mock terror for the door. He caught up to her in easy strides.

When Tala came around the corner again and raised one eyebrow at them, pointed her motherly finger toward the bunkroom door, and raised her finger to her lips, Graham sat Macy on her feet, and they both stifled their mirth and sobered up.

What an amazing father Graham has become to these children. What a wonderful one he’d be to mine—if either of us dares let it be born
.

Macy brushed past Tala and barged into the bathroom, pushing Bang out of the way so she could wash up too, while Tala went into the kitchen and stirred the dinner while she tried to remain calm.

Tonight they were having a scavenged can of potato and corned beef hash that Tala combined to make into a creamy potato chowder by adding reconstituted milk. With just enough to feed the five of them, this would be a welcome change. Looking into the pot of creamy soup made Tala wanted to flee, but she pushed through the nausea and tried to act normal until she could come up with a plan or at least until she had some time to think about what she would tell Graham. He would want to save her and discard the child out of fear of losing them both. They’d discussed the dilemma in a “what-if” manner a time or two, but hadn’t yet been forced to deal with the reality.

While the kids set the table for dinner, Tala whispered to Graham, “We need to talk tonight, after the kids are in bed.”

Graham said nothing, but the expression on his face signaled his apprehension. She patted his cheek and smiled, hoping he’d smile back; those sharp-eyed kids would notice he was worried.

While Tala dished up the food, Graham went into the bunkroom to rouse Ennis for dinner. He returned to report that the old man didn’t want to wake up.

“Let’s leave him alone then; I only put him down to rest a few minutes ago,” Tala said. “Maybe the antibiotics will do their thing better if he’s resting.”

Graham nodded agreement. “I can always take him a cup of soup later.”

With only four gathered around the table for the first time, Tala realized how attached they’d become to one another. The cabin was too quiet with the others gone. The family atmosphere she knew Graham had come to accept after his initial resistance had become official. Perhaps that was the best thing for them after all.

In an effort to break the quiet, she asked Graham, “Wolves skinned?”

“Yes, and bodies already disposed of.”

“Good. If I can get away tomorrow, I’ll help with the scraping,” she offered.

With her attention to detail, she’d proven herself an expert at getting even the tiniest of particles lifted off the skins, but the idea of the project wasn’t appealing to her in her current condition.

“Can we talk about something else at the table, please?” Macy requested.

“Sure, how was school today?” Graham asked.

“Oh, that’s funny. You’re such a comedian,” Macy said back while Bang sat there laughing as little boys do, filling the cabin with a merry amusement that almost made Tala forget the anguish to come.

Even though she dreaded Graham’s reaction to the news about her surprise, she enjoyed every minute of their happy circumstances at the moment. If Ennis were not ill, the current condition of their lives would finally make sense. Even with the death of man, they had to find joy and peace in their existence, or there was no point in going on at all.

After they had cleaned up, Graham heard Ennis stirring, so he took him a mug of the thick soup and a glass of cranberry juice.

“Hey, think you can eat a little?” he asked as he opened the door. He turned on the bedside lamp and slid a chair close beside Ennis.

“Yeah, I think I might. Where’s them kids?”

Graham helped him sit up and had propped another pillow behind him.

“They’re taking care of the chickens, and Tala’s in the greenhouse.”

“Good. Listen, before you start feeding me against my will, we need to talk about somethin’ I’ve been thinkin’ on.”

“Take a drink first, Ennis,” Graham said, handing him the cranberry juice.

“I hate this stuff.”

“Drink it anyway.”

Ennis glared at him while he took a sip with mock hatred.

“You give any thought to going back this spring?”

“Going back to Seattle?”

“Yeah. Take a truck. Pick up more supplies to bring back here. You need more ammunition for defense and hunting, and we need to know what’s going on out there. A scouting trip would tell us a lot.”

Graham handed him the soup and leaned back in his chair, thinking. “I’ve thought about going back. Problem is, someone could follow me back here, and I’d expose our camp—and the prepper’s camp. I don’t want to put us in any jeopardy. And what if something happens to me?”

“You gotta do something, Graham. You think these kids are going to stay put? We need to find out how things have gotten out there. These little homes here have already been scavenged by our two camps. Sure, we have enough food for now, but the ammo is running short already.”

Graham nodded. “You’re not telling me anything I don’t already stay up at night worried about, Ennis.”

“I know you want to stay here and garden, and hunt, but I’m tellin’ you, Graham, turning into a hippie is not enough.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Don’t ignore the outside. These kids are going out there at some point. If you’re not preparing them for the dangers they’ll need to survive out there, you might as well bury ’em now. The preppers are good folks right now, but they’re using us for their own protection. Nothin’ wrong with that, but what happens when they run low of supplies too?”

“They’re not like that. Dalton risked a lot, and paid a lot, to help us the last time. Too much in fact.”

“Graham, when you need to feed your own child, you’d kill your own brother for his food. Don’t make the mistake of trustin’ them too much. I’m saying, you need to think long-term now, and you need to see what’s out there. What dangers exist by other men.”

Graham took a big breath and let air out slowly. Though he didn’t believe the preppers would ever turn on them, he couldn’t ignore the warnings. “I’ll think about it, Ennis.”

After Ennis had finished off his meal, Graham bullied him into going back to the bathroom. The effort was painful for the old man, but he needed him to recover. Afterward, Graham heard the snoring sounds he’d come to get used to, indicating Ennis was fast asleep.

With the others down for the night, Graham tended the woodstove as he tried to build an emotional barrier for whatever Tala might convey. She curled her legs under herself while she waited for him on the couch. He approached her slowly with only the firelight gleaming, his feelings of dread increasing with each moment he delayed.

Tala knew Graham was procrastinating as she watched him putter around. Determinedly, she willed away the coming tears and waited for him to be ready for her news, then broached the first of the two subjects she wished she could avoid.

Carefully she began with Clarisse’s recommendations regarding the girls, to get it out of the way. She told him why she and Clarisse both agreed it was a good idea for them to be put on the pill. Of course, as Tala suspected, Graham didn’t take it too well.

“No way!” he said after Tala explained the situation twice. “They’re only
fifteen
!”

“Graham, what if something happens to them? What if Marcy and Mark take their affections too far? Or, God forbid, someone attacks one of them. It’s a simple solution.” She realized the irony of her own statement.

That was enough to get him to think seriously about the recommendation, considering what had almost happened to Tala the previous fall.

He leaned forward and rubbed his beard. “Yeah,” he said finally. “Maybe you and Clarisse are right at that. I remember how difficult the loss was for you to recover from when you miscarried.”

She met his gaze, remembering. That was how he found her here. She could have died from complications and they’d never been sure if the miscarriage was due to the stress of the pandemic or if the fetus contracted the virus within and died from it.

“That would be horrible for them. We’d have to give them the medical abortion pills. There’s some at the doctor’s house. I saw them there but left them. I didn’t think we’d need them.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, I can see how putting them on the pill makes sense for Marcy but I do not think Macy would be willing to take them, nor do I think she should be forced into taking them. I’m not holding her down for that and good luck to anyone who tries.” Tala didn’t think he was joking.