Authors: Brad Knight

Meteor (18 page)

Chapter 21

When they arrived they found Troy seated cross-legged on the living room rug, looking intently at the floor. Three small crates of belongings sat on his left. The rest of the bunker was empty save for the smoke stained couch and chairs. Cordelia came downstairs carrying a towel, a hairbrush, and a few pairs of socks balled up in her hand.

“This is it, Dad. Upstairs is empty except for the sheets on our beds. Oh-hi, Mom. Hi, Caleb.”

Cordelia threw her handful of items into the closest crate and wiped her hands on her jeans. Mary smiled at her as she settled herself next to Troy on the floor. Something unspoken passed between them. The current apocalypse seemed to have improved this ability as it took the necessity of words away and replaced it with bare emotion. Mary laid her head on Troy’s shoulder.

“It’s okay,” she said. “There is nothing you could have done to protect us any better than you have. Things out of our control just happened, honey. We have been so much better off than most of the rest of the world, and it’s because of you.”

Mary felt her husband breath in deeply before he replied. “Thank you for saying that.”

The air still smelled heavily of smoke and there was a new dampness inside since the flood had elevated the creek. Water had seeped in through unseen cracks and placed the final nail in the bunker’s coffin. Having nowhere to go was a new sensation for Troy and he just sat and tried to accept their new situation.

“Randall’s friend said we can stay at his house. It’s beautiful there, huge. Room for us all. We can take these few things with us.” She lifted and replaced various items from the crates near her. There were a few packs of peanut butter crackers, somewhere around fifteen cans of fruits and vegetables, all economy sized, and two boxes of instant coffee. Meager rations surely but they were better than nothing.

A memory hit Mary as she examined these items. Dinner parties from her old life swam into view inside her head; she tried to not remember that those dinner parties included Stephen. What she saw clearly in her mind’s eye was her standing in a clean, even foyer giving the hostess a bottle of expensive wine or a bouquet of flowers. Gifts exclusive to civilization. Now, cheap crackers and vats of fruits swimming in artificial syrup would have to suffice as a thank you gift. Another of her crazy giggles escaped her lips before she could stop herself. Troy tilted his head in her direction though they were so close he couldn’t see her face.

“Are you okay?” he asked.

“Yes, just thinking about everything. Laugh to keep from crying, you know.” She felt him nod against her head.

Moving into Alan’s house was a much simpler affair than moving back into their house had been only a few days before. Three crates comprised the remainder of their belongings. In addition to the foods they had gathered they had also added a few articles of clothing, mostly socks and underwear and a few kitchen items not ruined by smoke. Everything else had sunk with the house.

Alan’s house lay less than a mile from the bunker but the cans made the largest crate heavy. Troy removed his belt and wrapped it around the crate in order to pull it like a sledge. It whispered through the grass as they walked back to Alan’s. Brandon shuffled one other crate from hip to hip as they walked and Mary had the final crate dangling from two fingers as light as it was, laden only with clothes. The trip took less than ten minutes. Troy marveled on the walk there at a person showing such kindness. This man who didn’t know them from anyone was allowing six strangers to move into his home.

The awkward feeling lasted only as long as they stood in the doorway holding their belongings. Randall and Alan answered the door together and took the crates from them. Troy looked up at the two story foyer and peered around Alan at the kitchen.

A pang of loss and longing for his own home went down his spine but he withheld any reaction he might have shown and instead reached out to shake Alan’s hand. Something about the strength he felt in the man’s fingers brought long-suppressed emotions to the surface and without warning he was gathering Alan into a tight embrace and his tears were falling.

The men hugged for a long moment, Alan unashamedly patting Troy on the back. When he released Alan, Troy stood a little taller, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had held things together for so long it was a welcome relief to allow someone else to provide the answers to the hard questions.

Alan showed everyone to their rooms. Mary hadn’t exaggerated when she described the house as huge. Four bedrooms upstairs, all fully furnished. The children chose to continue sharing a space. Despite the challenges of this new, dark world, some relationships had visibly flourished. Brandon and Hannah were all but inseparable. In typical big sister fashion, Cordelia teased them frequently about it but neither seemed disturbed by her words. People clung to what they could now.

As the deeper darkness of evening fell over the house, no more tremors were felt. The reporters on the radio sounded more hopeful than they had in months, stating again and again that the worst appeared to be over. Environmental experts had been conducting air quality assessments in the weeks before the earthquakes began and had gathered encouraging data. Less debris and higher quality air were becoming evident in many areas around the globe.

A skeptical kind of hope settled over the new family and friends as they tucked into their dinner, blackeyed peas and macaroni and cheese heated over a gas camping stove. It seemed Troy was not the only prepper on the block.

Alan had not been able to reach Troy’s immense levels of preparedness but his stockpile was quite impressive even so. In the basement, he showed them what remained and this amounted to floor to ceiling shelves still half-stocked with non-perishable items. He had mentioned that he did not have much food but there was enough to keep the group afloat for a long while.

Deep down Troy knew he didn’t necessarily deserve this treatment. He had turned people in need away from himself. Shame flooded through him once again as he thanked Alan for the twentieth time for his hospitality.

Dinner was a convivial affair despite the day’s disaster. Randall invited everyone to say something wonderful about themselves as a means of introduction. To be able to laugh in the face of adversity was a wonderful thing.

After dinner, Troy convinced Alan that they should set a guard to stay awake, and luckily he saw the wisdom in this though he had only experienced the looting of his house once since the drama began. So while Caleb sat watch, he volunteered for the first shift as always, everyone else retired to their respective rooms to settle in to sleep.

Without consciously recognizing it, Troy fell asleep with true happiness in his heart once again.

Chapter 22

Troy turned over in the bed and opened one eye. Through the eastern facing window came a sight so beautiful it nearly stopped his heart. Brighter than it had been in months, the sun slowly peeked its round top above the horizon and sent rays of light through the clear, white sky.

Troy leapt from the bed, rubbed the sleep from his eyes and flung back the curtain so he could drink in this unexpected view. He caught himself actually laying his palms against the glass as if he could touch the sunlight. But he couldn’t stop no matter how ridiculous he thought he looked. He also considered pinching himself, so surreal was the view in front of him.

He lost track of time as he stood and stared at the sun as it gilded the tree tops in a shade of gold he thought the world had forgotten. He closed his eyes for a moment and imagined he could feel the warmth of the sun radiating through his skin. This was all an illusion of course. The air outside was still steeped in a deep chill but the light was no dream. The grey fog had mostly disappeared and the world was awash with light once again. Troy eventually remembered his sleeping wife and called softly, “Mary.”

She rolled over and took a deep breath. She ran her hand over her messy hair and sniffed as she opened her eyes. Wider and wider she opened her eyes by degrees as she woke fully and realized what she was seeing through the open curtain.

“Open the window,” she said in a breathless voice, still slightly rough with sleep. Troy did as she asked, lifting the protesting window up as wide as it would go. Mary leaned the upper half of her body out the open window and breathed deeply again. A smile of pure joy lit her face as she pulled herself back inside and looked at Troy.

“What happened?” she asked, rubbing her hands rapidly up and down her arms to rid herself of the goosebumps caused by the cold early morning air. Troy shrugged.

“A miracle.”

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