Mariah had a hand on Carl’s arm, an attempt at comfort even though the anguish on her face mirrored Carl’s.
Carl swiped at tears, talked through them. “Monty killed them. Shot Adam. I think he meant to murder us all.”
Ashar watched them closely as Carl told them what had happened, seeking any assurance that would tell him if he could trust them or not.
They gaped. Stricken faces, still bodies, disbelief.
“We had to burn them,” Carl sputtered, swiping at the constant flow of tears on his cheeks. “I think it was worse than the day the war started. Smelling it. Adding more wood and seeing the shape of blackened skeletons.”
Carl meant it. Ashar stared at him, at the horror on his face, the defeated stance of his body, his red waterlogged eyes. He couldn’t be faking it. He wanted so badly to believe that Carl was good.
“I have no idea what to say,” Marcus walked slowly to the circle of stumps they had set out and sank down on one. “I just can’t believe it. Why? Why would he do such a thing?”
Mariah, crying now herself, continued to pat Carl’s shoulder as though it somehow helped. Maybe it did. The gesture seemed maternal to Ashar, but his own mother had never tried to comfort him in such a way.
Ashar didn’t know how to answer Marcus’s question. They had only theories, not facts.
“Axis,” Carl said. “That’s what I think.” He rubbed his sleeves over his cheeks. Wiped his eyes. “Do you have any food?”
Marcus stood, went into the cave and came out with a leather pouch. “Rabbit jerky,” he clarified as he offered some to each of them and they helped themselves.
“I don’t care what it is,” Carl said around a mouthful. “Slim pickings out there toward the end,” he garbled around the meat.
“Why would you think Axis was involved?” Mariah questioned, bringing them back to why they had gone from eight to three.
“I don’t want to talk about it any more.” Carl groaned and took another big bite.
Marcus sat back down. “Not an option,” he said gruffly. “This is a big deal. We lost half our group and I need more information. Tell me everything you know.”
Carl and Adam remained silent, so Ashar shared what he knew, leaving out his suspicions that Monty hadn’t been plotting alone.
No one else spoke while he relayed the events. Quiet settled over them. Talking about it had regurgitated the emotions. He rolled the strip of his hem in his fingers, focusing on the worn feel of the fabric, the ridge of the seam. Softer than the hard metal of the gun. Harmless. Simple.
A section of hem separated from his jacket and he shoved the fabric into his pocket, and resumed eating. He hadn’t wanted to speak around mouthfuls of food.
“Little things are clicking.” Marcus sat up straight, his back rigid. His voice was grim, reflective. “I hate to say it, but the signs were there. His grief was never quite right. Like he was attempting to portray it the way he was supposed to, but there was too much anger. You notice things like that when you’ve gone through a war.”
Ashar tried to see what Marcus was describing. Monty had been angry, but he had seemed grief-stricken too. He had expressed his emotion over losing his parents. He’d kept to himself, and was sullen. Marcus hadn’t been with them long. He shook his head. “I know he didn’t turn out to be a good guy, but grief presents in different ways, doesn’t it?”
“Yes,” Marcus acknowledged. “Everyone in the group would have started at the same stage of grief. Monty was in a different place than the rest of you. He was still angry.”
“That’s just how he was,” Carl said. “He was never cool. He was always a jerk.”
“He had a tattoo.” Adam spoke, his voice soft. His eyes remained on the ground by his feet. The more Ashar had spoken about what had happened, the further Adam had hunched, as though he could block out the words.
“Why’s that matter?” Carl questioned, curiosity tinging his voice.
Adam stretched out his good arm and took a stick from a pile set at the edge of the fire. “It was an A, I think.” He drew an A in the dirt. “Except the slash through the middle was angled up toward the left from the bottom right line of the A, extending past it to stop at the same height of the A. Then that line had a slash through that. Could have been an x.” He added the lines he was trying to describe.
Marcus got up to take a closer look. Ashar could see it. It did look a capital A with a lower case x to the upper left.
“Could be a coincidence,” Mariah pointed out firmly.
“Irv will know,” Marcus decided, straightening. “Come on into the cave. I’m sure you’re all exhausted. Let’s get a good night’s rest, and tomorrow we can talk more.”
The cave was deeper than Ashar had expected, and not flat or smooth like he’d pictured in his head either. The curve of rock over their heads was misshapen, and within it, small to midsize boulders were strewn along the sides as they entered. The cave widened toward the back.
The temperature felt as though it changed too, like it was modulated somehow. He moved close to a fire burning near the back wall, just as Marcus had described when they’d first discussed finding a cave.
He and Mariah had obviously spent some time getting it ready for the expected group. There were pallets set about. A large pile of wood and another of kindling was stacked against one wall.
Marcus led them around a larger boulder in the back that had looked like part of the cave wall. It opened, revealing a small, mostly private area that held four pallets. “This was for the family, but… well, now I guess it doesn’t matter. There’s another spot like this that Mariah is using. Guess we’ve got a lot more room now.”
“You take it Ash,” Carl offered. “Might be good for all the reading you like to do.”
Ashar pressed his hand against the shape of his bible in his pocket. It was a nice offer, but he felt a stab of guilt for wanting to say yes. “It’s really okay if you and Adam want to make it your room.”
“Nah. Come on Adam, let’s take that corner over there. It’s near the fire and it’ll be warm and toasty.”
“Sounds great,” Adam said fervently and immediately headed for the space, Carl following, leaving Ashar to claim the room and make it his own.
First, he needed to get a handle on the basics. He set his pack on one of the pallets and returned to Marcus and Mariah. “Is the river the closest water source?”
“The ledge here actually goes higher and then thins out. There are several caves scattered along the way. One of those caves is smaller, but it dips so it has two pools of water. Great for bathing, but not for drinking.”
“Good,” Ashar tried to visualize the cave and pictured one smaller than the one they were in with standing water. “I could really use a bath. Wash my clothes. Probably all three of us smell.”
Ashar had gotten used to the difference in hygiene long ago. Living in survival mode changed everything. There was not always access to water, and even less access to soap. When they’d set up shelters, it had been easy to sponge bathe privately, but on the trail, that hadn’t been possible, and Ashar had his secret to keep.
Adam had needed to keep his wound clean and both he and Carl had taken an opportunity once to strip off their shirts and use their hands to clean away some of the dirt and grime, but Ashar had claimed it was too cold for him. Since they’d both been frozen from the cold water within seconds, they’d claimed he was the smart one as they’d tugged their clothing back on.
Mariah stepped up beside him and pressed a bunch of pieces of something yellowish white in his hands. “Yucca,” she explained. “Add water and you’ll get some suds. You might not care for the smell, but in the wild, it’s soap.”
Ashar nodded his thanks. Marcus led him up the rise along the mountain side. He saw a few openings to caves that were too high to reach, and another that dropped off sharply. Past those, the rise dipped, and Marcus motioned him toward another cave with an opening just a bit lower than his head.
/> The cave mouth was wide, one side closed off by tumbled boulders. The ground sloped down with every step and led right into a pool of water about four by five feet wide. Another pool of water was behind the first, smaller in size, and it filled most of the rest of the small cave. In the far corner, blocked off by water, was a flat rock ledge, about a six-foot span.
“The back pool is pretty deep. Chest-height on you probably.” Marcus motioned to the left side of the cave, indicating a narrow stone path. Ashar picked his way carefully along the narrow path that led to the back. It was strewn with various sizes of crumbled rock and was damp, making it slippery. Ashar made a mental note to smooth it as much as possible.
“Thanks Marcus.”
Marcus nodded and left him with a wave.
Still, Ashar kept his back to the cave wall, even though he doubted any of the others would come and check on him. Marcus had been right about the depth of the water, but still his highest bones were partially exposed. He pondered some way to create an even more private feel so that even if someone did come down to use the pools, they wouldn’t be visible. It would be something to run by Adam, see if he could create something.
The yucca was sufficient enough to make him feel clean and he didn’t even mind the scent. He’d had too much recent experience with far worse smells to find the yucca unpleasant, and simply bathing was refreshing. He had found it difficult to strip down in the lake with so many near.
The water was chilly, not freezing, but still Ashar did not linger in the water. He thought the corner section would be sufficient for a fire and he made plans for the space as he bathed. He was sure that, as the temperature dropped, the pool of water would get colder as well. It was possible that a fire in the corner would heat the pool. It was certainly worth a try.
He washed the clothing he had been wearing as well as he could with the remaining yucca pieces and laid them flat on the corner rock to dry before dressing in his spare clothing. A fire there would be good for that as well. There were plenty of rocks to drape clothing over.
Dressed, he gathered the wet mound of clothes to take back with him and carefully made his way back out of the cave.
Ashar took time to stand on the ledge and take in the scenery of the mountain from the new vantage point.
It was beautiful. In the forest, there were no visible signs of the war. The pine trees were thick and lush, the deciduous trees stripped of their leaves for the season, the unadorned branches raised high toward heaven.
Hills rose and fell beneath the tree cover in gentle curves among the mountain for as far as his eye could see. Ashar breathed in deep. The crisp air was pure, and there on the ledge, alone, Ashar felt God’s presence again.
He knew that God had not left him. Rather, it had been he himself who had pushed away the constant pulse of love, compassion, strength and comfort that God always had at the ready.
Here, they would have to find a new rhythm of survival. Water to drink, food to eat, warmth, protection from the elements around them.
Snow would fall. Now, they were five. When Irv, John and Drew returned, they would be eight again. It was possible that the cave would be what kept them alive. If they could find food. The air was colder here, making him glad for his thick utility jacket. The warmest clothing the others possessed was a sweatshirt. A plaid shirt. A jacket.
If it took a while for the remaining three to return, it would be difficult to go out and search for food without warm clothing.
He cast one last long look over the horizon and went back to the cave that was now their home. He laid out his clothing on the rocks to dry and joined the others inside.
He didn’t voice his concerns. There was already too much to process. Like before, they would find a way to survive. He would have to trust God for provision, the same as he had before. He would try to trust everyone again.
Chapter Nineteen
Marcus did not stay idle. If he wasn’t out setting new traps, he was building. He had already built a table for their kitchen items and hacked away at logs until he’d produced enough round pieces for each of them to have a plate, pounding rock into tiny pieces and using a larger rock to rub the grit over the surface to make them smooth.
They had all helped him construct walls for the cave openings, and to fashion doors. The door for the bath cave, as they were calling it, coupled with the fire pit they had constructed in the corner of the pool cave, kept it warm and toasty and actually made bathing enjoyable.
For the main cave opening, the dividing wall that shielded the inside had been placed in an irregular line stretching along the scatter of boulders that lay strewn inside the mouth of the cave. It had taken longer to construct, but was sufficient.
They had rebuilt their community again inside of the cave, sectioning off areas for each of them that provided privacy and a space to be alone if they wanted. Using rocks had taken longer, but they were plentiful in the area, and each room was comprised of at least one rock wall. Rock retained heat better than wood and Marcus had been strategic in the placement of them. The walls made of rock were closest to the fire, the furthest walls made of wood.
All of them were dealing in their own way with what had happened to those that were missing.
Every day, Ashar made time to sit on the ledge away from the others. He liked to look out and see the dip of the trees, the rise of the mountain, the dusting of snow on the tips of trees. He needed the daily reminder that God still watched over them, still had His hand on the world.
The group dynamic had changed greatly, and not just the numbers. Marcus kept busy, but he grappled with depressive bouts and his restless sleep was hard to hide in a cave with others close by.
Adam, though he had recovered from his gunshot wound, was quieter than ever. He kept to himself and barely spoke any more.
Mariah had approached Ashar several times and asked if she could read more from his bible, and he had willingly handed it over each time, hoping she would find comfort and truth in it.
Carl was still Carl. His cheer wasn’t as consistent as it had been, but he tried, the strain obvious as he tried to break through the cloud that had fallen over all of them.
Looking out at the sun making the snow-covered tree tops glitter, Ashar repeated the same prayers he seemed to have every day. A prayer for each of them, for food and provision, for safety. For the rest of the group to return safely.
Deep down, he fought anger which roiled and solidified. The injustice of it all. His parents, the war, death. So much death. He didn’t want to be angry, but no matter how many times he prayed for God to take it from him, it was still there, and he could feel himself getting sucked into the same dark place the others seemed to be inhabiting.
It was there on the ledge as he battled his demons that a shrill familiar whistle alerted him that Irv was back and had found them.
Rising, Ashar searched the lines of trees shrouding the paths below them, waving even though he could not see them. He jogged down the slope to the edge that would lead them up to the caves and put him in line with the path. He saw Irv first, and not far behind, John and Drew ambling along as though they were on a stroll.
Grinning, laughing, Ashar yelled for the others. He was happy to see that all three approaching had survived and seemed healthy. He could see a bow over Drew’s shoulder as they got closer, and another over John’s. They even wore heavy camouflage clothing.
Behind them, they dragged a travois that looked bulky with supplies.
The others came out, calling out greetings, and he and Marcus climbed down to meet Irv. Marcus grasped Irv’s hand. Ashar clapped his friend’s shoulder, mindful that he was not wearing his pack and couldn’t chance a hug.
“Ya look thin,” Irv said in greeting, his eyes scanning all of them.
“Hoping those hunters you brought back with you can remedy that,” Marcus said in acknowledgment of the observation. “John, Drew.” He grasped hands with each of them, then offered to help with the travois.
/> They all grappled with it as they hoisted the heavy contraption up the rise awkwardly between them.
“I hope it’s a deer carcass,” Carl muttered as he and Mariah grabbed poles and tugged it up over the edge.
“Sorry no, but a hunting we will soon go!” Drew sang cheerily, standing and looking around with a smile. “How the heavy are all of you? Where’s the rest of the crew?”
Silence slammed down like a closing gate. Eyes shifted away, smiles died.
“What’s happened?” Irv asked Ashar, turning so they were eye to eye.
“We think Monty was Axis. He killed them all. And I killed him.” It was summarized shortly, but gave the whole gloomy picture. Brought it all back. The shock, the pain, the horror, the smell. Waves of it flashed in his mind. The boom of the gun. The realization of death. The betrayal. Burning flesh.
“But, the kids… where are the kids?” Drew asked, confusion and expectation evident as he looked around as though they were simply back in the cave waiting.
“Dead too,” Carl said apologetically, patting Drew’s arm, even though he looked like he needed comfort himself.
“We thought you would know if he was Axis,” Ashar continued, pushing the memories back, telling himself he needed to forget, to move on.
Irv looked surprised, and shook his head. “Why would I know that?”
“He had a tattoo.” Adam pulled his knife from his belt and knelt, drawing the symbol in the rocks. “This,” he finished and looked up expectantly.
“That doesn’t make sense!” Irv exclaimed, pacing away, turning back to stare down at the symbol in the dirt. “Why would he have run to the woods? Joined a group of stragglers? That isn’t their MO!”
“We’ve already asked those questions. Does the symbol mean anything, Irv?” Marcus prodded, pointing to the lines Irv was still focusing on as though they would spring to life.
“Yeah, it’s Axis,” Irv confirmed. He scraped his foot over the mark, leaving a scuff where the offending symbol had been. Ashar wished it were as easy to erase his memories.
Seal Two Page 14