What Survives of Us (Colorado Chapters Book 1) (31 page)

She started pacing back and forth, muttering.  “There’s got to be a safe way to do this.  I’m too far along for the morning after pill, based on what I learned in health class.  Probably couldn’t find any drugs anyway – Bean Counter was always talking about that.  What about herbs?”  She stopped and fixed her gaze on Quinn.  “Do we have a book on herbs?”

“If there’s not one here, I’ll find you one.”  Quinn stood up.  He stared down at the table top, and once again, Grace caught sight of the old man he’d be one day, if he lived that long, in the lines of weariness and despair on his face. 

“I thought it would be me,” he finally said in a choked voice.  “I thought in a few years, when we were older and had found somewhere safe, we could be a family.  Have a family.  You and me.”

Grace recoiled; she couldn’t help it.  “Why on Earth would you want to?  Why would you want to bring a baby into this world, so she can be raped and raped and raped?”  She backed away from him, shaking her head.  “I’m sorry you thought that.  I’m sorry, if I let you think it.  I’ll never be a mother, Quinn.  Never.  And I’ll never be with a man again.”  She looked down at the table, unable to bear the misery in his eyes.  “Better you know now.”

Silence fell between them.  Grace could hear the low rustle of the fire in the stove, the constant drone of insects outside, birdsong, and the occasional bleat of a sheep.  None of these familiar sounds could bring her comfort. 

A tiny sip of bliss, and now more hell.  This was her penance for seizing some moments of happiness, her wake-up call.  She had been a fool to think they could hide here, be safe here.  Reality was back, with a vengeance.  Bitterness twisted in her heart and rose in her throat.

She choked words out past it.  “We need to make plans to go.  Other people will think of this place, and they’ll tell Bean Counter about it.  We’ve stayed too long already.”

“Whatever you think, Gracie.”  Quinn didn’t question her abrupt change of subject.  He moved towards the door, stopped, then came back.  He took her hand, and ducked down until he was eye to eye with her.  There was something older in his gaze, disillusioned, resigned.  Nothing was left of the innocent boy she’d left Limon with.  It made her unbearably sad.

“It doesn’t matter,” he said.  “What you do or don’t feel for me, it doesn’t make a difference.  I love you.  I always will.  You don’t need to think or do anything about it.  It just is.”

She shook her head at him slowly.  “Not a good plan, Quinn.  You should just let it go.  There’ll be other girls.  Lots of them.”

“Not for me.”  He squeezed her hand, then headed for the door again.  “Besides, I’m not the one with the plans.  That’s you.”  He turned and tried to smile, but failed.  “I just keep taking the next step.”

              Keeping the baby warm – that was Naomi’s top priority.  Night and day, the fire had to stay lit.  If it burned low, even for an instant, little Macy got so very cold.

             
She was aware, sometimes, that she was well and truly lost.  The needs of the dogs kept her connected to reality by the thinnest of threads.  They were in constant physical contact with her as she sat by the ever-roaring fire, never leaving her alone.  They took turns slipping out through the dog door Scott had installed, or eating a few bites of food from the bag Naomi had torn open and dumped on the floor.  When she slept, they pressed against her.  When she cried, howled, screamed her grief, Persephone would press tiny licking kisses along her jaw, and Hades would rest his massive head on her shoulder.  Their love was her only tether to a world without her baby in it. 

             
She had washed Macy’s body carefully, then wrapped her in a soft sheet so that only her hair showed.  She changed the sheet when it became soiled, turning and tending her daughter’s slowly desiccating corpse.  She understood the process Macy’s body was going through, the gradual mummification, and there was nothing to be repelled or disgusted by in it.  This was her daughter.  Naomi had been caring for her since the day of her birth, and it gave her great comfort to continue caring for her now.  Not for a moment did she consider digging a hole in the cold, dark, suffocating earth and putting her baby in it.

             
And when she couldn’t bear the empty loneliness any longer, she fled, into the ghostlands Verity had warned her about.  Backwards and forwards in time she traveled, between dreams and memory.  Macy’s wedding day, when a white veil would frost her glorious hair.  Macy’s toddler days, when she ran everywhere on chubby legs and gave smacking kisses to complete strangers.  On to her teenage years – would she go to the prom?  They could sew her formal dress together – wouldn’t that be fun?  Back again to those first days, to the power outage and the warm cocoon of family.  Naomi visited there again and again.

She drank water when the tissues of her throat stuck together.  She used the bathroom when great need drove her to it.  In the years that would follow, on the rare occasions she would speak of this time, she would say, “I wasn’t trying to die.  But I wasn’t trying to live, either.”  And then she would laugh, sadly, and say, “Saved by the most obnoxious of cats.  I don’t think Hades ever got over it.”

He strolled in one morning as if he’d just been out carousing, King of All He Surveyed, God of War himself.  Hades barked and charged, then spun away with a sharp yelp, his sliced nose already dripping blood on the floor.

Naomi gasped and staggered to her feet.  “Ares!” 

Her legs shook, then collapsed from under her.  She tried again to stand, and was shocked when she couldn’t.  When had she gotten so weak?  She crawled first to Hades, to press the hem of her shirt to his nose.  Then she glared over her shoulder at Ares.  “Well, that’s a fine ‘Hello’ you damn cat!  We missed you, too!”

Then she started to sob, filled with joy to see him, filled with guilt for feeling joy.  Ares yowled and stalked to her side.  She leaned down and his purr rumbled into the room as he butted her head repeatedly with his.  With her free hand, she stroked him over and over while Hades emitted a constant, grumbling growl.  Ares’ body was thin but strong, rising under her hand.

“I can’t believe you found us.  How on Earth did you make it so far?  How did you know the way?”

Ares prowled to the spill of dog food on the floor, sniffed at it, then loudly voiced his disdain.  Persephone gave an excited bark of greeting, her little tail a wagging blur, and bounded to touch noses with the cat.  They sniffed each other for a few moments, then Ares yowled again and glared at Naomi.  She felt a wobble and a shift as she was invited into his perception.

Miles and miles and miles, and sore paws.  Stray dogs, fights, coyotes, and a very close call with a hawk.  Naomi.  The bond between them, pulling him home.  Hungry, always hungry, hungry NOW.

Amazing.  Naomi swiped at her tears, then checked Hades’ nose; it was still oozing, but the worst of the bleeding had stopped.  She gave him a comforting stroke, then crawled across the floor to the food cupboard, not trusting her legs.  “Let’s see what we
’ve got for the prodigal son.”

Ares wound and twisted around her as she dragged out a bag of dry cat food, rubbing and purring and radiating approval.  She tried to tear the bag open and couldn’t, which told her just how run down she’d become.  Just sawing it open with a kitchen knife exhausted her.  She filled a bowl for Ares, then crawled back to the cupboard and grabbed a box of granola bars.  Seated once again by the fire and Macy, she made herself eat one, washing it down with little sips of water.

Had she eaten since they’d arrived here?  She couldn’t remember.  She looked down at her clothes.  She hadn’t bathed or changed her clothes, of that she was certain.  Now that she was thinking about it, she couldn’t even say how long they’d been here.  Weeks?  A month?  Longer?

So tempting, to curl up by Macy and sleep, to slip back into dream and memory.  But Hades was whining softly beside her, not so much from the pain in his nose as from jealousy and hurt feelings, and he needed some reassurance.  Persephone was
a mess, her golden coat matted and filthy – Naomi was probably going to have to cut a lot of it off.  And Ares was intent on his food, crunching enthusiastically, but when he finished, she needed to check him over for any wounds that might need tending…

She heaved a huge breath that hitched and caught, looking around at the animals and recognizing the choice she’d just made without realizing she was standing on the brink of it.  Tears seeped from the corners of her eyes – she didn’t think the flow would ever stop.  She was overwhelmed by the idea of breaking free of her cocoon of grief.  Of standing up, of taking steps to survive, of going on without Macy.

But Ares’ return felt like nothing short of a sign.  He had survived, had made it back to her, against all odds.  As if her thoughts had summoned him, he looked up from his food, then slid to her side and into her lap.  Naomi closed her eyes, held him close for comfort and courage, and for the first time since Macy’s death, allowed her heart to open beyond this space, beyond the cabin.

“Piper!” she gasped.  There her girl was, vibrating with life and oh!  Angry!  Right there in her heart.  Naomi’s face lifted in a smile of delight and recognition and relief, then just as quickly twisted in pain.  No Macy.  No baby girl.  Her shoulders curved around the hollowness.  She made herself breathe steadily for a few minutes, then explored the altered terrain.

It wasn’t that Macy and Scott had left her heart.  Rather, their presence was static, still, a love that was memory.  They had gone on together, Naomi was sure of it.  She had tried so hard to believe they were both still here, just in another form, but she knew it wasn’t true.

Piper, by contrast, felt like a roaring fire in her chest, living, changing, shifting, raging.  Her temper had always run
hot, but this definitely felt like more than a tantrum. Whatever had enraged her girl, she was grateful for it; the connection between them was alive again.  Determination to find her warrior girl surged anew, and she closed her eyes in gratitude.  The needs of the living kept grief from killing.  She couldn’t follow Macy into death, not while Piper lived.

It took her almost a week to regain enough strength to move easily around the cabin, and another few days beyond that to find the strength and courage to step out the door, to walk down to the lake with the dogs and leave Macy alone for a few minutes. 

She stood on the shore as the dogs played in the shallows, scanning the lakeshore for signs of other people.  She had thought, the other day, that she’d heard a motor off in the distance, but whether it was a vehicle or a boat, she couldn’t say.  She needed to get out and check the lakes one by one, but she was reluctant to use the SUV to do so.  So much depended on the nature of the people she might find.  The sound of a vehicle was so rare these days, it would be too easy to track and locate.

No, she needed to walk it.  It was only a few miles, after all, though some of it was rough terrain.  The dogs bounded out of the water, shaking and spraying, and she turned to head back up the hill to the cottage.  She had to pause halfway to rest, and she laughed a little at herself.

“Sure.  You’re going to hike around the lakes.  Better make it up the hill first.”

She went out every day after that, trying to get farther and farther each day.  She’d never enjoyed exercise, but she began to find the rhythm of hiking soothing.  Her mind emptied and went still, and she could enjoy just being outside, watching the dogs range around her sniffing and exploring, the feel of the sun on her face, the soft tug of the wind in her hair.

They didn’t encounter any humans, but ran into plenty of animal neighbors:  mule deer, rabbits, squirrels, the occasional fox and once, a pair of coyotes.  Birds were everywhere, too, only a few of which she could name.  Scott had kept an identification book by the window in the cabin; he and Macy had spent hours with that book and their binoculars. 

There was one bird she was coming to recognize though, a huge raven that seemed to be waiting high in a tree every time she stepped outside.  Usually, he would glide from the branch and fly off when she appeared, his croaking calls echoing back to her, but this morning he stayed for a moment.  He cocked his head to the side, examining her, and just for an instant, she thought she felt the brush of his awareness: curiosity and a surprising intelligence.  He flew off before she could explore the connection, but she would be on the lookout for him tomorrow.

She adjusted the straps of her day pack and her shotgun, then took a deep breath of cool morning air, and looked down at the dogs.  Hades was seated by her side, his beautiful, strong head tilted up to her as if she were his sun.  When she made eye contact with him, his mouth opened in a doggy grin, and his stump of a tail wiggled with happiness.  He adored these walks, and as he became more secure and settled at the cabin, the silly, clownish side of his personality was starting to emerge.

Persephone was dancing around them both, butterfly ears perked and quivering in anticipation as they started down the road running along the west side of Rainbow Lake.  The little dog was proving herself to be a ruthless hunter, reinforcing Naomi’s belief that she carried terrier heritage under that soft golden coat.  The first time she’d emerged from a burrow with a rabbit dangling from her mouth, her pretty face scuffed and triumphant, Naomi’s instinct had been to take it away from her. 
She’d stifled that urge; it wasn’t as if she could buy more dog food when her current supply ran out. 

She had kept her face averted as the dogs worried and tore at the rabbit that day, trying to figure out how to get through fur to blood and meat.  At the time, neither one had been overly hungry, as they’d already been fed; their interest in the rabbit had been more about novelty than food.  Since then, Naomi had waited to feed them until after they returned from the day’s hike – if Persephone could hunt up their breakfast, all the better.  With practice, they were getting better at consuming what she caught.

Hades was attempting to hunt as well, though his tendency to bulldoze through the forest hindered his efforts.  In the clear, without a lot of underbrush to give him away, he had come close, but he’d yet to make a kill.  Naomi knew she was going to have to figure something out before too much longer; Hades was a big dog, and needed a lot of fuel.  If possible, she needed to conserve the dog food for emergencies, or for the coming winter.

As near as she could figure, it was the first or second week of July.  She had never been able to reconstruct the weeks following Macy’s death, and she had stopped trying.  What did it matter?  Other than keeping track of the seasons so she’d be prepared for the weather, what did the calendar mean anymore?

She had hardly begun to wrap her mind around the changes in the world, and what they would mean.  She had a single objective – find Piper – but she knew from her short trip here to the cabin that such a journey wouldn’t be easy.  She couldn’t just hop in a vehicle and drive up to UNC on the impossible chance Piper was still hanging out in her dorm room.  She had racked her brain for any detail she might have forgotten, any information Piper might have shared about the friend she had mentioned, the one with a home in the mountains, but had come up with nothing.

All she had to go on was the
feeling
, strong and steady as a compass needle, that Piper was somewhere to the northwest, fairly far away.  When Naomi closed her eyes and reached out, she could feel the thread connecting them like a thrumming guitar string.  All she knew to do at this point was follow it.

So that was her plan, in its entirety.  It was almost as simplistic as her plan to come here, to the cabin, but far less naïve. 

First of all, she would wait, until the following spring.  Piper could very well be on her way to the cabin, and unlike her mother, she knew where she was going.  Besides, Naomi would need that time to prepare, physically and mentally.  A great deal of the journey might be on foot, and she needed to be fit.  She’d lost weight, an awful lot of it, but it had been the kind of weight loss that debilitated rather than strengthened.  She could walk for a couple of hours now, but she had a long way to go.