Authors: Arthur Bradley
Tanner and Samantha looked up and saw a woman leaning out the window. She was in her late thirties, had long black hair, dark eyes, and was obviously of American Indian descent.
“Are you Isa’s mother?” shouted Samantha.
“Yes, I’m Genessee Hill. Who are you?”
“I’m Samantha, and he’s Tanner. We’ve brought something for you.” Samantha was smiling from ear to ear.
The woman’s eyes opened wide, and her face lit up.
“Oh, my God, you’ve brought her home!” Genessee disappeared from the window, and a few seconds later, the front door burst open. “Where’s my baby?” she asked, looking around the porch and out into the yard. “Is she okay?”
Tanner and Samantha exchanged looks.
“Ma’am, we don’t have your daughter,” he said.
“What do you mean, you don’t have her? You’re from the farm, aren’t you?”
Tanner wasn’t sure how to answer.
Samantha stepped closer and held out the note.
“Miss, we’re here to deliver a note from your husband.”
Genessee took it tentatively and let her eyes quickly skim the words. Then she read it a second time, much slower. Then a third time, letting her lips move with each word.
If you’re reading this note, it means that I’m dead. I’ve never had much luck in this world, so my end probably wasn’t quick or painless. I have no right, but I’m going to ask a favor of you. In my left boot, you’ll find a photo of my daughter, Isa. Our address is written on the back. I was away on business when the virus hit, and I’ve been trying to get home ever since. I wonder if you’d be so kind as to deliver a message for me. Tell my baby girl that daddy did everything he could to make it home and that I’ll watch over her from heaven. Please tell her what I couldn’t, so that I can rest in peace.
Forever grateful, Booker Hill
Tears formed in the corners of her eyes.
“You found him.”
“He was... well, you know, not alive anymore,” said Samantha. “But we found the note and your daughter’s photo. We drove a long way to bring it here.” She held out the photo of Isa, but the woman only glanced at it, unable to pull her eyes away from her late husband’s last words.
“Were you able to give him a proper burial?” she asked, choking on the words.
Samantha glanced at Tanner.
“That wasn’t possible,” he answered.
“I understand,” she said, nodding.
“He wanted Isa to know that he loved her, even at the very end,” said Samantha.
Genessee starting crying, and her tears fell on the paper.
“Isa’s not here,” she said.
“Where is she?” asked Samantha.
“At the farm. All our children are at the farm.”
“What farm?” asked Tanner.
“The Amish community over in Conewango.”
“The Amish took your kids?” asked Samantha.
“No, nothing like that. We sent our children there. The virus was spreading quickly, and we thought that getting them out of town would help keep them safe. The Amish stopped coming around once the virus hit, and hardly any of them became sick.”
“And you haven’t seen your kids since?”
“No,” she said, drying her tears with the sleeve of her blouse. “But the virus is gone now. Nearly everyone who caught it is dead, and it’s time for our babies to come home.”
“Why doesn’t someone just go and get the kids?” asked Samantha.
“We tried. Two women went to get them last week.” She shook her head. “The roads are terribly dangerous.”
Tanner was confused. “No insult intended, ma’am, but why did you send women? Surely, their fathers or someone like that could go.”
Genessee seemed reluctant to answer.
“Hey, it’s your business. If you—”
“There aren’t any men left,” she blurted.
“What?”
“The virus took them.”
“All of them?”
“More or less, yes.”
Tanner found that hard to believe.
“You’re telling me that every last man in this town was killed by the virus?”
“No, I’m saying that all of us who sent our children away have since lost our husbands.” She looked down at the paper. “Booker was our last hope. Now there’s no one.”
“Surely there are other men in the town who would be willing to help.”
Genessee looked embarrassed.
“There are, but they ask too much in payment.”
Tanner nodded, understanding all too clearly.
Samantha reached out and touched the woman’s arm.
“Don’t worry,” she said. “We’ll go get them.”
“Sam,” warned Tanner.
She cut her eyes at him.
“We were going that way anyway.”
“We were?”
She nodded. “You wanted to see your wife, remember?”
“She’s my ex-wife, and I don’t recall saying I wanted to see her.”
“You said it—I remember.”
He sighed. “Fine.”
“You’ll do this for us?” asked Genessee. “You’ll go get my Isa? And the other children too?”
He shrugged. “Why not. Apparently we’re going that way, anyway.”
She reached out and took his hands in hers.
“I’ll get the women together to tell them. You’re an angel. Bless you. Bless you.” She pulled him toward the door. “Now come inside and rest. You and your daughter will stay here for the night.”
As they were ushered inside, Tanner leaned down and whispered in Samantha’s ear.
“Now see what you’ve done.”
“What?”
“You’ve gone and turned me into an angel.”
By nightfall, eight women had gathered at Genessee’s home. They sat in the living room, holding candles, and it looked more like a séance than a meeting to discuss missing children. Most of the women were American Indian, but two were white, and one was black. Tanner and Samantha had gone upstairs to clean up and rest from the long drive.
“Listen,” Genessee said, standing up and moving to the center of the room, “I have incredibly good news. I found someone willing to go and get our children.”
Everyone started talking at once.
“Please,” she said, “one at a time.”
Ona, an attractive American Indian woman sitting next to the fireplace, raised her hand.
“Who is he, Genie?”
“His name’s Tanner. He’s not from around here.”
The room came alive again, women turning to one another with the same questions. Who was this stranger? Why should they trust him? What did he want in return?
“Please!” Genessee said, raising her voice.
A woman stood up in the back of the room. Peta had a sharp nose and a face that perpetually looked angry, even when she was trying to force a smile.
“How did you happen across this man?”
Genessee put her hand in her pocket and felt the note that Samantha had given her.
“He brought word of my husband’s death.”
Several of the women immediately voiced their condolences.
“We all knew that Booker was dead,” she said quietly. “Nothing else would have kept him away from Isa.”
“You know what the men have demanded in return,” Peta said to the group. “I, for one, will not—”
“Tanner’s different. He’s not asking for that.”
“What does he want?” asked Ona.
Genessee shrugged. “Apparently nothing.”
Peta snickered. “Dear, a man doesn’t risk his life for nothing. He’s expecting payment. I can promise you that.”
“Tanner’s not like that. He’s traveling with his daughter. They’re upstairs cleaning up right now. I’ll call them down. You’ll see.”
Genessee hurried out of the room and up the stairs. When she returned, Tanner was at her side. He was wearing jeans and a plain white t-shirt that had been her husband’s. The room came alive as the women turned and spoke to one another in hushed tones, talking about his size, his black eye, and the shotgun that he carried at his side.
Genessee went around the room and introduced each woman. As soon as they finished making the rounds, Peta stood back up.
“Genessee tells us that you’re willing to go to Conewango and retrieve our children.”
“That’s right.”
“She also says you’ll do it for nothing.” Peta made no effort to hide her suspicion.
“She’s giving me and my daughter a place to sleep for the night. That’s enough.”
Ona raised her hand. “Mr. Raines?”
She was a beautiful woman by anyone’s measure, and he couldn’t help but feel drawn to her.
“Tanner will do just fine.”
“Tanner,” she said with a smile. “Please forgive our skepticism. Peta and some of the other women are understandably confused about why you would help us. We’re strangers. Other men have asked for... well, for favors.”
“Favors my foot. They want a pound of flesh,” Peta said, pushing her hips to one side. “And we’re to believe that you’re different.”
Tanner chuckled. “Darlin’, rest assured I don’t want your flesh.”
Peta snorted, but said nothing.
“Then why are you helping us?” asked Ona. “And, please, I don’t mean any offense by the question.”
He smiled. “To be honest, it was my daughter’s doing. Samantha’s the good-natured one. If it were up to me, I’d never have come here in the first place.”
“And where is your little girl?”
He pointed up the stairs.
“Fell asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. We had kind of a rough day.”
Before Ona could reply, Peta jumped back in.
“How exactly do you plan to transport fourteen kids?”
He shrugged. “No idea.”
“That’s not much of an answer.”
He yawned. “Like I said, it’s been a long day. You ladies figure out the transportation, and I’ll drive it over to Conewango. If the kids are there, I’ll bring them home. If you want to sit up all night talking about conspiracies or secret agendas, that’s your business. As for me, I’m going to bed.”
“Before I forget,” said Genessee, “any of you who wish to can spend the night here. If you’re like me, waiting even one extra minute would be too long.”
“If you don’t mind, one last question, Mr. Raines,” said Peta.
“What is it?” he said, growing annoyed.
“What makes you think you can even get them? I don’t know if Genessee told you, but the women who went after them ended up dead.”
“We don’t know that. And besides,” Genessee said, waving her hands in front of him. “Look at him! He’s as big as my Booker.”
“He’s a giant, all right,” Ona said with a wink. “I mean that as a compliment of course.”
“How else could it be taken,” he said, returning her smile.
“Big or not,” sneered Peta, “what will you do if you run into trouble?”
Tanner swung the shotgun up to rest across his shoulder.
“Darlin’, you obviously don’t understand the situation. The question is not what am I gonna do if I run into trouble. It’s what’s trouble gonna do with me.”
Tanner stepped gingerly around the women sleeping on the couches and living room floor. He eased open the front door and walked out into the cool night air. The night was incredibly dark, and even navigating his way to the street to take a pee felt like an adventure worthy of Bilbo Baggins.
When he was finished, he returned to the house and quietly closed the door behind him. He stood in the dark room, listening to the women breathe. They were counting on him, and while he played it off like it was just another day, he felt their worry. He took a deep breath and let it out slowly. If their kids were still alive, he would bring them home. It was as simple as that. Sometimes there was no room for failure. Period.
He stepped around the women again and crept up the stairs as quietly as his bulk would allow. Samantha’s door was open, and he heard her snoring softly. He crossed the hall and went back to his own room. As soon as he entered, he felt the presence of someone in the room.
“If you’re not naked and warming my bed, you’ve made one hell of a mistake.”
“Then I guess I didn’t make a mistake,” replied a soft voice.
Tanner walked over and saw Ona lying curled up under the covers. Her long black hair was fanned out across the pillow, and in the soft moonlight, she looked incredibly seductive.
“I’d ask what you’re doing here, but I’ve never been one to question a woman who invites herself into my bed.”
“What would you say if I told you I was elected to pay you for your troubles?” Her voice was husky and inviting.
He grinned. “I’d say I’m glad the vote turned out the way it did.”
She laughed.
“But that’s not the case, is it?” he said, sitting on the edge of the bed.
“No.” She studied his face, as if trying to decide what type of man was inside. “The truth is I was cold and lonely. Same as every other woman down there.”
“Yet only you came up.”
“You would have preferred two of us?” she teased.
He smiled. “That wasn’t what I meant.”