Tier Trilogy: Books 1-3

by Cindy Gunderson

  “I feel like I could do the same,” I tease.

  “I know, sorry. I just want to make sure we’re in a good position so I can actually rest without stressing out,” Eric says.

  “Do you honestly think they’re going to be looking for us?”

  “One hundred percent yes. Are you kidding? We just kicked the bees nest.”

  I yawn. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. How long do you think we can sleep before we need to keep moving?”

  “My hope is that we can sleep most of the daylight hours. It’s only a few hours from dawn.”

  “Really?” I ask in surprise, scanning the sky. The moon is hanging low.

  “Just sleep,” Eric insists. “I know my body will wake me up in a few hours and I’ll keep watch. When you wake, we can switch off. Hopefully the boys can sleep all the way through. Tomorrow night...it’s going to be a long one.”

  I nod, forcing myself to compartmentalize the tasks ahead of us. If I allow myself to think about any of it with my tired brain, it’s going to be my own undoing. Sleep, I remind myself. That’s all you need to do right now. Just sleep.

  I pull my sluggish body into the tent, careful to avoid knocking the structure of branches above it, and fall into my spot. The uneven ground feels like heaven. I immediately begin to drift, and when Eric’s body shifts into position next to me, the last bit of tension in my muscles gives way. I sink into sleep.

  Chapter 130

  My eyes fly open, my heart pounding in my chest. Whipping my head to the side, I find Eric’s sheet empty and immediately relax. He’s keeping watch, I remind myself. We’re safe. The boys are still snoozing peacefully, and I cautiously stretch, trying to keep my noisemaking to a minimum.

  Judging by the light outside, it’s got to be mid-morning. Guilt rises immediately at having slept so long, but at the same time...it feels glorious. Still in my clothes from the night before, I carefully open the flap, slip on my shoes, and step out of the shelter. Straightening my shirt, I turn and find Eric sitting on a rock a few paces away. He silently motions for me to follow him.

  Birds flit between the branches overhead; a soft breeze whispers through the woods, the strong gales of the night before completely forgotten. When we are a fair distance from the tent, Eric stops and hands me a small, wrapped bundle.

  “Breakfast?” he offers, his voice soft.

  “Is this from Val?” I ask quietly, mimicking his caution.

  He nods. My stomach rumbles gratefully as I open it, the food preservation paper crinkling under my touch. Chicken, mixed with dried fruit and nuts.

  “Heaven,” I murmur, using my fingers to bring a portion to my lips. “I guess I should have washed my hands first,” I mutter, my mouth full.

  Eric laughs and shrugs. “There are worse things.”

  He sits, patting the ground next to him and I settle in. From this vantage point, windows open up between the trees, allowing us a view of the path we walked the night before. Far in the distance, I can barely make out the border fence we crossed. A part of me is impressed with the ground we covered, while another part is terrified that we are still so close. I eat, allowing my mind to cycle through recent events, beginning to process all that I was too overloaded to deal with yesterday. Eric is quiet beside me, a pillar of calm as his gaze follows mine past the trees.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asks eventually, leaning gently against my shoulder.

  I sigh heavily. “Honestly?” I pause, attempting to gather my thoughts into something coherent. With so many concerns and questions, it’s difficult to answer. Especially since I don’t necessarily feel like dumping on him right now. There is one that that feels more powerful than the others, so I go with that.

  “How I was so close...to the girls, I mean. Shari was right there and I didn’t even think to—”

  “There wasn’t any time,” Eric reminds me.

  I nod, my eyes filling with tears. “I know,” I say, and I do. I know it couldn’t have gone any other way. But, it doesn’t keep me from replaying it over and over again. Maybe if I had thought to ask Jessica before we met? Maybe she could have had them in the car? Or maybe we could have stopped there before the meeting? That was quite possibly my last chance to see them. Ever.

  I continue to play out different possibilities in my head, hoping that one will end up with me wrapping my arms around Beth and Leah. Fully aware that finding that option will only crush me because I didn’t consider it soon enough. Lose-lose.

  “I’m sorry, Kate,” Eric repeats for the hundredth time.

  “I’m sorry, too, but not just for me,” I answer, a tear rolling down my cheek. “For you, for Val, for Kip—for all of them. We get to walk away. They have to keep living and watching this happen.”

  “You never know. Maybe we shifted something,” Eric says. “It’s up to them now.” He stands, stretching his back. “I left our research with Val,” he continues. “She can work with her team and try to get it going. At least, if nothing else, we contributed that.”

  I smile, holding his eyes for a moment, and the weariness in his face reminds me that he’s past due for a sleep rotation.

  “Go,” I say. “I’ll keep watch.”

  “You got enough rest?” he asks.

  “I feel great. Go,” I reiterate.

  He smiles gratefully and retreats to the shelter. Though I don’t relish the idea of being alone with my thoughts, I hope with all the energy of my soul that my own brain is the only thing I’ll have to deal with over the next few hours. I ball up the empty paper, stuff it into my pocket, and pull my knees to my chest. Then I watch and wait.

  Chapter 131

  Finally, we see it. The sun is barely beginning to rise over the brilliantly green trees, a soft mist lifting into the sky. Home. The boys, though thoroughly spent, somehow find the energy to begin running toward the house. Eric reaches for my hand, an obvious bounce in his step.

  “You didn’t think we’d make it back, did you?” he chides, a grin on his face.

  “You mean because we had to backtrack? Twice? Definitely made me skeptical.”

  “Hey, those compasses take practice,” he says, slightly offended.

  “I’m just glad I didn’t have to set the directions. Truly, I’m in no position to tease,” I admit. “I was too scared to try it myself.”

  He chuckles, watching the boys approach the edge of the yard. The setting is aesthetically stunning and both of us—entranced—pause involuntarily, taking the happy scene in.

  “Thank you,” I breathe.

  “For what?” he asks, again pressing toward the house. I stop, pulling on his arm and forcing him to turn toward me.

  “For everything, Eric! For being brave enough to push boundaries with your research. For coming back for us. For fighting for us. And then for being willing to sacrifice for social change, yet again. For facing your old life without any complaint, and for being willing to just jump into brand new things at every point of the way to keep us safe,” I say, in awe of his constant energy and positivity. “For getting us home,” I finish, my voice a whisper.

  He pulls me to his chest and I collapse into sobs. All of the pent up stress and tension I didn’t even realize I was still carrying floods through me, releasing through my tears.

  “It’s taken all of us. You, me, Nick, Val, Jessica, Kip—every single one of us. Together,” he breathes. “And I don’t think that I’m the one who has sacrificed most,” he says softly, stroking my hair as I nod against his chest.

  Standing there—the tall grasses brushing against my calves—I allow all of it to finally clear my system. Eventually, my breathing begins to normalize.

  “Ready?” Eric asks gently.

  Pulling back, I nod.

  “Race you!” he shouts, and my eyes widen in surprise. Turning on his heel, he runs in a full sprint toward the house.

  “Not fair!” I yell, awkwardly chasing him with my pack bouncing against my back. I laugh as I begin to spot little hea
ds moving through the front door and rushing toward Tal and Bentley. We’re home. We’re home.

  Later that night, after getting a very long, detailed run-down from Rose about the last couple of weeks and repairing a few odds and ends—including a dislodged beam on one of the bunk beds—Eric and I are settled at the table. The kids have already rushed off to play before bed. We are both resigned to the fact that there’s no way we’re going to be able to convince them to settle down yet, especially considering Tal and Bentley’s currently backward internal clocks. Earlier, Eric and I committed to staying up and suffering through the day, rather than drawing it out and adjusting incrementally. Now, I’m regretting that decision. The boys are overtired to the point of being hyper, and I don’t especially relish the idea of carrying out the bedtime routine.

  “So,” Eric states seriously, letting the word hang in the air as he interlocks his fingers on the table in front of him.

  “So?” I ask, my eyebrows furrowed.

  “What are we going to do?” he asks.

  “About bedtime? You can totally take the lead if you want…” I say playfully.

  He smiles, but doesn’t engage. “It’s only going to be a matter of time, Kate.”

  I stare at him, confused.

  “Before Berg finds us,” he explains. “They’re going to find us. At best, if they search all of the wrong places first, we’ll have a couple of weeks. If they initially guess right…”

  “Eric, I think I’m too tired to think about this right now.”

  He nods. “I am having difficulty not thinking about it,” he admits.

  Sighing, I resign myself to talking through it, at least partially. I can’t leave him alone with these heavy thoughts.

  “What if they stop looking?” I counter. “If they don’t find any obvious signs of our departure, won’t they give up?”

  Eric shakes his head. “I don’t think that’s how it works.”

  “So...what do you think our best option is?” I ask, falling back into problem solving mode, grieving the loss of my days’ worth of internal peace.

  “I was thinking about this on our hike yesterday. It seems to me like we have two options.”

  “Only two?”

  “I mean, only two good ones,” he teases. “First, we can stay here. We can enjoy the time we have and hope that when they come, the consequences won’t be more than we can handle.”

  “What do you think they’ll do?”

  “Based on the look on the Director’s face? I don’t even want to imagine,” Eric admits.

  I shudder. “Not loving that option,” I say. “What’s number two?”

  “Well, unfortunately, it’s not much better,” he sighs. “We can pack up and go on the move. But that leaves just as much uncertainty. Maybe more, in some ways. While it increases our likelihood of slipping Berg’s search, it leaves all of us susceptible.”

  “No resources,” I state, mulling through the ramifications of this course of action.

  “No stability, no home base,” Eric continues. “I just...I don’t know if that’s any better than dealing with Berg. At least with them, I would expect that they would give opportunities to the children.”

  “All of them?” I ask cynically.

  Eric purses his lips. My hands are clenched into fists and a tightness in my chest builds.

  “Eric, I don’t think I can run again,” I blurt out, embarrassed at my weakness. “I don’t think I can leave so soon. Just the thought of it...it’s too much—”

  “We have to leave again?” I hear from behind me and whip my head toward the voice. Tal, Bentley, Rose, and Root stand clustered in the entryway.

  “No,” Eric explains hastily, “we were just discussing options. We’re concerned that...well, that our—this—location won’t be unknown to Berg for long.”

  Searching their faces, I wait for a response.

  “I think we should stay,” Bentley says simply, and the others nod.

  “I’ve already lost one home,” Rose adds. “This one’s better,” she quickly adds, “and I don’t want to lose it, too.”

  “I know,” I respond, my heart aching, “but Berg may take it from us. You don’t know what they are capable of—”

  “I do,” Rose interjects softly, looking at the floor.

  I regret my comment instantly. Nodding, I consider carefully before speaking again. “We’re worried that if we stay, we might lose everything. Maybe even each other.”

  “Maybe. But I agree with you, Mom,” Tal contributes. “It’s too much. We’ve done all we can. Let’s just be done.”

  I pause, a lump in my throat. “I want to be done,” I admit, my nose stinging.

  “Can we have a few more minutes to play?” Bent asks, and I nod. They bounce back out into the yard happily, the door slamming behind them.

  “How can they just rush off like that after hearing that we might not be safe?” I ask, incredulous.

  Eric laughs. “Decision made,” he states simply. “No sense in worrying about it anymore.”

  “I don’t know if I can let it go like that,” I comment, standing and gathering a few dishes from the table. “Or if I can live with the consequences if something terrible happens. It’s like this whole last week. I just keep going back over each moment, wondering if there was a way I could have handled it better. If I would have been more prepared, or thought through things more completely—”

  “Kate, you’re going to drive yourself mad. Nobody can expect themselves to consider all possibilities in any given moment. You’re forgetting that each decision we made was limited by time. Sure, if time wasn’t an issue, we could expect complete possibility analyses in every situation, but in the real world? Not realistic. You can let this be,” he says, pulling me toward him as I hastily set the dishes on the counter before they fall to the floor. “Let’s be done,” he says, his voice full of mischief. I laugh at his expression—fully—and it feels like it’s been years since I was last giddy. His lips reach mine and I close my eyes, melting into his embrace.

  Chapter 132

  “I can’t believe it’s been a week already,” I say, listening to the pitter-patter of rain on the roof, wrapped in Eric’s arms. The darkness from the morning clouds has prevented the children from waking at their normal hour, and our bed feels cozy and luxurious compared to the chilly air of our bedroom. I don’t want to get up yet, and the rain will prevent any real progress from being made on our projects anyway. Based on the fact that Eric isn’t pushing to leave either, it seems that we’ve both silently agreed to remain relaxed and wrapped in our blankets.

  “I’m not going to lie, there is a little seed of hope germinating within me,” I admit, using my hands to mime a tiny seedling sprouting from the ground. Eric laughs and tickles my ribs.

  “Crush it, Kate,” he teases. “You know they’re going to come.”

  “But what if they don’t!” I insist. “Maybe things have changed and they don’t care about us anymore. Maybe everyone in Tier 1 banded together and political change is in the works.”

  “It’s a lovely thought,” Eric agrees, “but I don’t want you to be devastated when it isn’t true.”

  “It could be true,” I insist stubbornly.

  He rolls over and presses his lips to mine. “If I kiss you, it means you have to stop talking,” he says between pecks.

  “It’s not going to work,” I say, laughing and pushing him away, kneeling on the bed.

  “Shhh!” he says, “You’re going to wake the kids!”

  “Why would that be a problem?” I ask churlishly. He lies back on his pillow, his arm above his head, and looks at me in defeat.

  A smile breaks my sullen expression and I pull the covers over us, lying next to him. “I’m kidding,” I whisper. “I don’t want the kids to bother us either.”

  He looks at me skeptically.

  “I won’t bring it up anymore if it makes you nervous,” I offer.

  “It’s not that it makes me nervo
us,” he sighs. “It’s more that...I just don’t want you to be disappointed anymore.”

  “I know,” I say, kissing his cheek. “You know that none of this is your fault right? We shouldn’t regret past decisions and all that?”

  “Theoretically…” he says slowly.

  I kiss him more intensely, cutting him off. “I hear that if you kiss someone, they have to stop talking.”

  “Hmmm, we should probably test that theory,” Eric whispers, pulling me close.

  Chapter 133

  “Thanks for helping,” I say gratefully, attaching the last few shirts to the drying line. “Now go play!” I insist, waving Rose off to join the others. The boys won’t be finished planting for another hour or so, but the younger children have been peeking around the side of the house, just waiting for Rose to finish. We had to take advantage of the small break in weather to avoid drying clothes in the house. The clouds in the distance are ominous, making me hope that I won’t have to bring these right back inside in a couple of hours.

  In such a short amount of time, we’ve already reached a certain level of normalcy. All of us have slipped easily back into routine, making our time in Tier 2 feel hazy and dreamlike. After deciding to stay, Eric and I joked about doing nothing at all. No food storage or gardening, no preparations for the year ahead. We could just throw caution to the wind and do whatever we wanted for a few weeks.

  I pick up the empty basket and walk toward the house. As it turns out, that’s simply not who we are. So we’re doing laundry. And planting. And Eric and the boys are aiming to implement our new filtration system by the end of next week. While we’re continuing to work as usual, we did all agree that we could afford to indulge just a bit for mealtime. While I was initially missing the fresh food of Tier 2, our dinners of late have left nothing to be desired.

  Our little homestead is full and rich, abounding in energy and joy. No skirmishes, no complaints. I couldn’t have dreamed up a better way to spend this time. Every morning, I awake to an empty, quiet yard more grateful than the day before. One more day.