Maelstrom

by Susanna Strom

  We stopped at a park in Madras so we could all stretch our legs and pee. By midafternoon we reached La Pine, took the exit for Burgess Road, and headed west toward the Deschutes River.

  According to Levi, Grandpa Kurt had purchased his five-acre property decades ago. The dense pine forest hid his house from nosy neighbors, giving him the isolation he desired for creating his survivalist compound. Deer, elk, and wild turkeys roamed the area, and he was close enough to the river to fish. It was an ideal location for an apocalyptic retreat.

  Miles would have loved it.

  When we reached the turnoff to Grandpa Kurt’s property we caught our first inkling of trouble. The gate that restricted access to the driveway hung open, the lock blasted to smithereens.

  Ripper signaled for a halt and asked me to join Kyle and Sahdev in the jeep, with my Sig at the ready. We proceeded slowly up the long drive. Within a few minutes the house came into view.

  “Oh, shit.” Kyle craned his neck, taking in the sight.

  Broken furniture and boxes littered the front yard. Somebody had attempted unsuccessfully to bash in the steel front door with a battering ram, leaving its surface gouged and dented. Bullet holes dotted the door and the siding, and all the glass windows had shattered. The security bars covering the windows were Grandpa Kurt’s undoing. Whoever gained access to the house had pried the bars off the largest window, demolishing the surrounding wood and siding. The welded metal bars had fallen onto the lawn.

  Ripper cut the engine and climbed off his bike.

  “I wanna check the place out first.” He drew his Colt from his holster and stalked around the house.

  “I should go with him,” Levi said.

  Hannah hung on his arm. “Don’t you dare.”

  Five minutes later, Ripper returned.

  “Sorry, kid,” he addressed Levi. “I found Grandpa Kurt dead in the back bedroom. Looks like the flu got him.”

  “Dammit.” Levi’s eyes filled with tears and he bent over, hands on his knees while he sucked in deep breaths.

  Hannah rubbed his back, her own eyes brimming with tears. “I’m so sorry, baby.”

  After a minute, Levi straightened and scrubbed at the tears with his hands. “I knew grandpa was probably dead. I mean, what were the odds he’d still be alive? But I had to find out for sure, you know?”

  Ripper clapped a hand on Levi’s shoulder. “I get it. It would eat you up if you didn’t know what happened here.”

  “What did happen here?” Sahdev asked.

  “Grandpa Kurt had a reputation for being a survivalist. Everybody knew he’d stockpiled food and weapons. People came to steal what he had.”

  “Looks like they got what they were after,” Ripper said. “The place has been tossed, all the cupboards and closets are empty. Furniture overturned. Everything knocked off the shelves. Whatever they didn’t take, they busted. I’m sorry, Levi. They cleaned out your grandpa’s stash.”

  Levi snorted. “You didn’t know him. No way they cleaned out Grandpa’s stash. Follow me.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  Ripper

  No way they cleaned out Grandpa’s stash.

  Levi definitely got my attention with those words.

  We followed him around to the back of the house and entered through the wide-open kitchen door. Place looked like it had been sacked by Vandals. The oven door smashed and hanging on one hinge. Refrigerator tipped on its side, leaking coolant. A couple of empty kitchen cupboards half torn off the wall. Pointless acts of destruction, possibly fueled by frustration.

  If the vandals were frustrated, that had to be a good sign, right?

  Levi made a quick circuit of the house, avoiding the back bedroom. Didn’t blame him. A man could shove grief aside if he had to, least for a while. Mourning was a luxury when there was a job to be done.

  He returned to the kitchen and circled the butcher block island. Stopping at one end, he crouched down and fiddled with something under the lip of the butcher block. A click, then the end panel of the island swung open like a door, revealing a stairway leading down to a hidden room.

  Several high-power flashlights hung from hooks inside the stairwell. Levi grabbed one and headed down the steps.

  “Hold on,” I told the others, then paused halfway down the stairs. Flashlight beams might not be enough to quell Mac’s fear of the dark. I glanced at Kyle. “You mind getting a lantern for Mac from the back of the jeep?”

  “No problem.” He jogged out the door, then returned a couple of minutes later with an LED lantern, which he handed to her.

  “Gimme a minute to check it out before you come down.” If the armory had been breached, somebody might’ve booby-trapped it.

  I followed Levi down the stairs. What I saw when I reached the bottom stopped me dead in my tracks. I swept my flashlight around all four walls, blowing out a long, low whistle. No looter would have left behind this treasure trove.

  “Come on down,” I called.

  When I was a kid, one Christmas my folks gave me a boxed set of DVDs from an old TV series, The Incredible Hulk. For months, I was obsessed with the show. I loved the moment when the scientist hulked out, roaring with rage, his muscles bursting through his shirt.

  If Miles’s stockpile was the mild-mannered scientist, Grandpa Kurt’s cache was his supersized, monster incarnation. I was looking at Miles’s hoard on steroids. Not so much the food—although the old man had a whole wall of shelves jampacked with foodstuffs. No, it was the weapons.

  Holy fuck, the weapons.

  “Told ya.” Levi shrugged.

  Kyle and Sahdev filed down the stairs, then stood gawking at grandpa’s armory. Mac and Hannah paused halfway down, bending over to scan the room’s contents.

  “Looks like your grandpa was getting ready for Armageddon,” Kyle said.

  “He was.” Levi directed his flashlight at the left-hand wall. “Two AK-47s for close work. Grandpa liked them because they’re ridiculously reliable and almost indestructible. Two Israeli Tavors for distance shooting. They use the same rounds as an AR-15, but they’re manufactured to tighter specifications, so they’re more accurate. And because they’re more compact, they’re easier to carry.”

  Kid knew a helluva lot more about firearms than the average seventeen-year-old.

  “Two sniper rifles, an older Russian Mosin-Nagant, and a Barrett M82 with night vision scopes. Two shotguns.”

  “Why two of everything?” Sahdev interrupted.

  “I spent a month here every summer. I think Grandpa hoped that if the shit ever hit the fan that I’d be here with him, and I’d need my own weapons.”

  Sahdev’s eyebrows shot up. “Did your parents know that your grandfather was teaching you how to shoot an assault rifle?”

  “My mom would’ve shit bricks if she’d known. As far as she was concerned, it was bad enough that he taught me how to hunt and dress game. So, short answer, no. They had no idea. They wouldn’t have let me visit if they’d known.”

  “My mom would’ve pitched a fit, too.” Kyle craned his neck and scanned the room. “What else is down here?”

  “Sidearms. Smith and Wesson Model 10 revolver. Two Glock 17s. A couple of Sig Sauers. A Colt 1911 ACM 45, like Ripper’s. And of course, a buttload of ammo.”

  Kyle pointed toward the corner of the room. “Is that what I think it is?”

  “A compound hunting bow with a fifty-pound draw,” Levi answered.

  “I was on the archery team in high school and college.” Kyle shot me a look. “Don’t bother with the Robin Hood jokes. I’ve heard them all.”

  “Knowing how to handle a bow is nothing to laugh at,” I said.

  Glanced up at Mac, who was staring at the collection of weapons. You had to be ready to defend yourself if you wanted to survive in the post-pandemic world. Mac accepted that reality, but the old man’s armory left her wide eyed and dazed.

  I didn’t even try to wipe the grin from my face.

  “Ripper, you got to see this.” Lev
i lifted a crate from a shelf and set it on the floor. I squatted next to him and pointed my flashlight at the crate while he pried off the lid.

  I blinked. “Where the fuck did Grandpa Kurt get M67 fragmentation grenades?”

  “I don’t know for sure. I imagine he knew a guy who knew a guy.” He picked up a grenade. “A black-market item for sure, but Grandpa was always willing to bend the law to get what he wanted.”

  Hannah leaned over the stair rail. “Levi Greenburg, put that thing down.”

  “Chill, baby. I’ve been handling grenades since I was twelve.”

  I winced.

  Two things occurred to me simultaneously. First, Levi had been handling grenades—and AK-47s and Tavors—since he was twelve? Second, you say chill baby to a woman in a patronizing tone like that, and there’d be hell to pay.

  Hannah narrowed her eyes, harrumphed, then wheeled around and stomped back up the stairs. Mac glanced at me, raised her hands, then followed the girl.

  Teenage love. My relationship with my first girlfriend—when I was sixteen—had been as volatile as it was exciting. She was either crazy about me or irked by something stupid I did. Should be interesting to watch the teenagers navigate their first real relationship.

  That thought stopped me short.

  Levi and Hannah had intended to stay put in La Pine, even if Grandpa Kurt was dead. What would they want to do, now that the place had been breached and ransacked and everything busted to shit?

  “What did I say?” Levi gazed up the stairs at Mac’s retreating back.

  I laid a hand on his shoulder. “Not so much what you said, but the way you said it.”

  He looked baffled.

  I sighed. “We can talk about it later, if you want. Right now, I need to ask what you and Hannah plan to do, now that grandpa is dead and the place has been trashed.”

  “I’m not sure. I have to talk to Hannah about that, find out what she wants.”

  “All right.” I nodded. “When you talk to Hannah, see what she thinks about the idea of you two joining up with our group and coming to Valhalla with us.”

  Levi frowned. “You sure you’re not inviting us along so you can get your hands on Grandpa’s weapons?”

  I snorted. “Hate to break it to you, kid, but if all I wanted was to take the old man’s stash, there’s nothing you could do to stop me.” I let the truth of those words sink in before I continued. “Nah. It’s not the weapons. You’re smart. You got skills. There’s strength in numbers. Besides, I think Hannah and Mac wanna stay together.”

  “All right. I’ll ask her, as soon as I figure out what I need to apologize for.”

  He showed us the rest of grandpa’s supplies. Food. Medicine. Camping equipment. Cleaning supplies. Booze.

  “No water?” Sahdev asked.

  “Grandpa Kurt has a well, and there’s a stream on the property.”

  Inventory complete, we climbed the stairs and found Mac and Hannah in the back yard, tossing a Frisbee to Hector. Levi pulled Hannah aside for a private and animated conversation.

  Mac, Kyle, Sahdev, and I huddled together.

  “I asked Levi and Hannah to come with us to Valhalla.” I turned to Kyle. “You think your rancher friend will mind if six of us show up?”

  “Honestly, not a clue. Maybe they can use more hands to work the ranch. Maybe their supplies won’t stretch far enough to take in six extra people. If that’s the case, we can move on. I’m sticking with you guys, no matter what.”

  I nodded, pleased. Hard to believe that pain-in-the-ass Country Club Kyle—Mac’s ex for crissake—had morphed into an indispensable member of the team. New world. New rules. Damndest allies.

  I glanced over at the kids. Hannah was bouncing on the balls of her feet, squealing. A teenage girl who squealed. God help me. She rushed over to us, her black hair flying, and threw her arms around Mac. “Levi and I are staying with you guys.”

  Mac’s face lit up with happiness, and she hugged the girl back. Conviction settled in my chest. We were doing the right thing by sticking together.

  Just like that, our family circle expanded. More people to be responsible for, to worry about, but I was finding that I kind of liked the ties that bind. Surprising for a man who’d always prided himself on being a loner, even in the club.

  I looked at Levi. “Where was your grandpa’s favorite place on the property?”

  He frowned, considering. “We used to play horseshoes after dinner, then sit on an old bench and watch the sun go down while Grandpa drank a glass of bourbon. I suppose the bench might have been his favorite spot, where he relaxed at the end of the day.”

  “Good enough. How about you and I dig a grave for grandpa next to that bench?”

  Levi startled, as if he just remembered that we had to deal with his grandpa’s body. Tears flooded his eyes. “Yeah. That’s a good idea. Thanks.”

  We fetched two shovels from the barn, then took turns digging the hole. Afterwards, we got a tarp and hauled the old man’s body from the back bedroom and carefully laid him in the grave.

  Levi worked in silence, as if in a trance, clearly consumed by his own thoughts.

  We got the body halfway covered up when Hannah appeared. “I want to help.”

  Levi silently handed her a shovel, and she threw a half dozen scoops of soil over the body before handing the shovel back to Levi. She kissed him on his sweaty, dirt-stained cheek. “I’m going to find some wildflowers for the grave.”

  He nodded.

  “Stay close,” I warned her.

  My words roused Levi from his stupor. “Hannah.” She halted and glanced back over her shoulder.

  “Last summer I saw a cougar take down a deer in grandpa’s front yard. How about you have Kenzie go with you to look for flowers, and ask her to bring her gun?”

  She nodded. “Okay. I will.”

  We returned to our grim task.

  “Does Hannah know how to shoot?”

  “No. I offered to teach her, but she doesn’t want to.”

  We finished filling in the grave and tamped down the soil. “She has to learn how to defend herself. You know that, don’t you?” I said quietly.

  Levi blew out a slow breath, and he looked older than his years. “Hannah told me that she isn’t afraid of anything as long as we’re together. She’s so freaking certain that I can protect us that she doesn’t think she needs to learn how to shoot.”

  Quite a burden to place on a seventeen-year-old’s shoulders.

  “What if something happens to you? What if you get sick?”

  Levi shifted his weight from foot to foot, frowning. “That’s one of the reasons I’m glad we hooked up with you guys. So if something happens to me she’ll have other people around to watch out for her.”

  I straightened and leaned on my shovel. “I get it. If I could, I’d put myself between Mac and anything that might do her harm. But that’s not smart. That’s not the reality we live in. You’re doing Hannah no favors if you encourage her to remain defenseless and dependent. And at some point she’s gotta pull her own weight. She’s gotta have our backs the way we’ll have hers.”

  “I know.” Levi dragged his hands through his hair. “She’ll get there. She has to, but I don’t know how to help her make it happen.”

  “Mac was afraid of firearms, but she learned how to shoot. How to fight. You saw how she handled Pastor Bill when he held a knife to her throat. Maybe Mac could have a talk with Hannah.”

  “That might be a good idea. I think Hannah would listen to her.” Levi tilted his head. “That reminds me of something I’ve been wondering about. How come you call her Mac when everybody else calls her Kenzie?”

  I smiled, remembering the night I met Mackenzie Dunwitty, the night she blasted me in the face with pepper spray.

  My friends call me Kenzie.

  Yeah? Guess that means I’ll be calling you Mac.

  “Long story for another time,” I said.

  Hannah and Mac walked up to the gravesit
e, Sahdev and Kyle close behind. Hannah placed a bouquet of wildflowers on the grave, then handed Levi a bottle of bourbon from the basement stash.

  “I thought we could toast Grandpa Kurt with a bottle of his favorite bourbon.”

  “Good idea. Thanks.”

  The bottle was half full, its wax seal long gone. Levi pulled out the cork and tipped the bottle, pouring an ounce or two onto the fresh grave.

  “L’chaim, Grandpa.” He swallowed a mouthful and handed me the bottle.

  “L’chaim.” I took a swig then passed the bottle to Kyle, who followed suit.

  Sahdev solemnly offered the toast, then poured a small amount on the grave.

  Mac, who didn’t drink alcohol, lifted the bottle to her lips and took a tiny taste. She shuddered. “L’chaim.” She passed the bottle to Hannah.

  Hannah sniffed the bourbon, wrinkling her nose. She gamely took a swallow, then coughed. Levi thumped her on the back.

  “L’chaim, Grandpa Kurt.” Her eyes watered. “That stuff’s awful.”

  Levi laughed, then sobered, touching Hannah’s hand. “I want to sit here for awhile and say goodbye to my grandpa.”

  “Do you want me to stay?” Hannah asked.

  He shook his head. “No. I got some things I need to tell him.”

  I gathered up the shovels, intending to leave Levi in peace.

  “Hey, Ripper.”

  “Yeah?”

  “You like wild turkey?”

  “The bourbon? Yeah. I like it fine.”

  “No, dude, not the drink. The bird. The land around here is thick with them. Sometimes they hold up traffic, strutting up the middle of the road. How about after I finish up here you and I go on a turkey hunt?”

  Never been hunting in my life. Never had any desire to hunt, but what was it I kept saying? New world. New rules. Learning how to hunt would be a useful skill. Meant food on the table after we ran out of the canned stuff.