by Maira Dawn
Tricia took a moment to add the cookie ingredients to the cream-colored ceramic mixing bowl. There was the sharp crack as she knocked the hard-shelled eggs against the bowl adding them, one by one, to the butter and sugar.
“So, ya pick one out yet?" Tricia nodded toward the men.
"Tricia! As if-" Skye stuttered, barely getting the words out.
"As if you've been able to choose?" Tricia couldn't help the giggle that escaped her.
"No! As if I've been thinking about that with everything else happening around us!"
Skye glanced at Dylan who was sitting on the overstuffed couch in the living room, and Tricia saw her.
"Oh, please, girl!” Tricia said. “Ya gonna try and tell me you didn't notice that handsome face, those brawny arms and shoulders. I mean, look at those shoulders! No wonder he took the couch, he can't fit anywhere else. Really hasn't even crossed your mind, uh?"
Skye's gaze followed Tricia’s, tracing Dylan from head to toe, until Dylan glanced at her. Like a schoolgirl, she quickly turned away and shielded her face with her hand. "Tricia! He saw us!"
Tricia smiled. “Dylan, huh? Good choice. Good man."
"It doesn't matter! This isn't the time for us to act like 16-year-old girls. It's time to act like adults."
"Well, in case ya haven't noticed, us adults like a little of that fun too."
Skye waved Tricia away. “Oh, for heaven's sake, can we just change the subject?" Tricia was having too much fun torturing her with this information.
While Tricia indicated Skye could do whatever she wanted, her pleased expression showed she was as happy as a cat over a bowl of cream since figuring out Skye's secret.
"Anyhow," Skye said relieved to broach a new subject, "Everything's going well."
"Um-mm.” Tricia nodded with a sly smile on her face.
Skye ignored her insinuation and continued. "Wade and Dylan are teaching Jesse and I some self-defense and survival techniques. We didn't get a lot done yet, but we’re learning.”
"So you mentioned, and it's just too much!" Tricia gave Skye a double take, her eyes wide. "You takin survival skills classes? Like what? Are ya takin down forest animals, skinning them? You? Little miss mani-pedi?” Tricia threw an apologetic look at Skye as she chuckled.
"Don't laugh!" Skye looked at her hands with a wry smile. Where once a shiny new manicure had graced her nails, she now saw damage that would make her nail tech shudder. A small bit of color clung to a few, and she scraped at it. Skye had to admit she would've laughed just as hard as Tricia if someone said, even a month ago, what she'd be doing now.
Once they got themselves under control, Skye continued, "No, we aren't hunting yet, though Dylan has threatened it, but I've learned more about fishing. I do okay. Well, I caught a few fish, anyway." Pride tinged her voice as she remembered her last expedition.
“We learned to watch for what's going on, listen for anything unusual, use what's around us. You know, things that will help keep us alive. We also reviewed what to scavenge from the neighborhood and to be careful while doing it. You can't just barge into a place. So all that kind of stuff."
Tricia brought a hand to her face. "You're serious."
"Yes, I'm serious. The other life no longer exists, and if I want to survive in this new one, I need to change. No more high heels and manicures. Well, maybe sometimes, occasionally.” Skye couldn’t imagine never having a moment to pamper herself, or wear her favorite red heels, but couldn’t rule it out either. “But not often, it's time to be practical now. I have to keep Jesse and me alive. I was so extremely unprepared for this—I knew nothing, and I still don‘t, but the Cole's took us in, and they are good, patient teachers."
Tricia leaned on the counter and crossed her arms. "Huh, who woulda guessed? Them boys are turning ya back into a mountain girl."
Tricia raised her voice so her husband would hear. "Tom, I want to learn survival skills."
Tom had been in the middle of his own story. He paused, a perplexed expression on his face, and said, "Okay, honey." He chuckled before he continued on.
Tricia turned back to her friend. “I’m glad you’re settled in but Skye, you coulda stayed here."
“Oh, I know! It was just a chain of events. The Infected came through, and I left in a hurry. I thought everyone was leaving. After I got Jesse it was dark, and we ended up at the Cole’s cabin. I really only expected to be there overnight before going to Dad’s but things changed. In the meantime, we have... I don't know... we've become something. I guess I'm not sure what yet. Jesse needs Dylan and Wade right now because they give him something I can't. They get what he's gone through and make him feel more normal in a way I’m not able. For his sake, at least, we need to stay together longer.
"But Tricia,” Skye entreated, “You should come to Cole's Mountain. It's so nice there. You can almost forget about all this. There are empty cabins right next to ours. I'm sure that Wade and Dylan could use more help, to do all the—you know—man stuff."
Tricia laughed as she rose to take out a batch of cookies and put another one in the oven. "I thought you were learning all the man stuff."
"Pfft, I'm not stupid. I'm still gonna let them make use of their own skills. And before you get all snooty about that, you better believe they are using my skills too. I've never baked so many cookies in all my life. I, admittedly, have few skills they actually need." Skye laughed. "Hence, the lessons."
Tricia eyed Skye. "I'm sure you're helpin them more'n you realize."
“Yes, I have to say my therapist skills are coming in handy.”
Tricia laughed. “I bet!”
Skye walked to the counter, pinched a bit of cookie dough and popped it in her mouth. “Oh, yum!" The sweet smell of warm cookies filled the air as she washed her hands in the sink.
“Tricia, please think about coming up to the mountain.”
Emotion played over Tricia’s face as she glanced around her house. It would be hard for her to leave her house unprotected.
Skye saw Wade bristle and stare at the other men. None of them seemed at ease. “Tricia, what's going on between them?"
Tricia looked down and shook her head. “History.”
Skye tilted her head. "What can you tell me?"
Tricia sighed and threw a glance at Tom before lowering her voice. "Look, if they say anythin, I didn't say a word." She peeked again into the living room then told Skye, "They all grew up together, great friends, inseparable. But it wasn't three boys then. It was four.”
Tricia choked up for a moment, then cleared her throat. “There was also a boy named Mark. Great guy, the kind of guy us other kids kinda looked up to. Of the four, Dylan and he was the closest. Once they hit their early teens, they started cuttin up. Not anything real bad, but drinkin when they got their hands on it, pranks. Boy stuff."
Tricia looked away and sighed. "One day, they were drinkin while they were cleaning their guns. Wade and Dylan got into a fight over the weapon. They weren’t aware, but the gun was still loaded. It went off. Mark caught it, right in the chest."
Skye paled as she raised her hand to her mouth.
Tears shone in Tricia's eyes. "Mark didn't die right away. 'Course they weren't all that close to Doc's, but they drug him all the way there. I saw them come into town. Mark still gasping his last ragged breaths. His blood soaking their clothes. I don't know how he lasted as long as he did.”
Tricia ran a hand along her cheek. “I’ll never forget the raspy sound of his breathing. The sheer confusion and panic on Dylan, Wade and Tom’s faces as they watched their friend die. We all felt so useless—there was nothing to be done. Those boys laid him right on the sidewalk and fell down beside him.”
Tears flooded Skye’s eyes as she listened to Tricia’s story.
"They lay there, gasping and crying. Their arms around him and each other. They stayed like that for a long time, like if no one moved, then no one died, and life would go on as it did before. Tom's dad and some deputies had to drag 'em
away from Mark, kickin and screamin, especially Dylan.”
A tear fell from Skye’s face splashing on her arm. Skye remembered what Dylan had said yesterday. This is what he meant. He did understood what it was to kill someone. He’d killed his best friend.
Tricia went on. ”For a long spell, the boys weren't themselves. Tom and Wade were devastated, but Dylan blamed himself. He was like a ghost, here but not here. Soon after that, the Cole's mom died. Dylan just seemed so broken.”
Skye’s friend shook her head. ”Wade and Dylan got pretty wild after that, and Tom wasn't allowed to hang out with them anymore. By then they’d started livin in the woods. They came to school enough to pass, but they became wild in a different way."
Skye slowly closed her eyes. As if their abuse hadn't been enough. Had these men gotten one break in life? Ever? Her eyes sought Jesse. If she hadn't rescued him, his life would have turned out the same. Her eyes drifted to Dylan. "And the shooting? They weren't charged?"
Tricia shook her head. "Ruled accidental. Tom's dad took care of the legal end. Everyone was aware of what happened but no one who'd seen the boys that day would've reckoned they could be punished any more than they already were.”
Tricia tipped her head toward the living room. ”Ya asked me what‘s between them? I don't think they blame each other, but I reckon they're not healed yet. It's like Mark is sittin there with them, reminding them of who they're missin."
Skye scanned the men in the other room and noticed Dylan nodding her way. She turned her head to wipe at the stray tears on her cheeks before stepping into the living room and raising an eyebrow at Dylan.
"Tom's gonna fill us in on what's been goin on around here,” he said. “Reckoned you'd want to hear it."
Skye’s shoulders tensed as she settled into a green overstuffed chair. She wasn't sure she did.
31
So Much
When Tom launched into stories of fires, gangs, and attacks, Skye realized again just how sheltered she had been on the mountain. The stories seemed surreal to her. For a few minutes she listened intently taking in all the morbid tales but finally her brain refused any more.
Instead it drifted to the familiar, comforting sounds and smells that always meant safety. Tom’s voice melted into the background as Skye picked up the sound of a metal cookie pan scraping against an oven rack—another batch of cookies.
Tricia’s oven door made a slight squeak as she closed it, and Skye anticipated the taste of the warm cookies as the spatula brushed against the pan when Tricia moved the cookies to the counter.
This place, where a person was safe enough to make dessert, was one far from the scenes of violence that Tom was describing. This is where Skye wanted to stay.
But Tom wouldn’t let her. "Skye." She turned toward Tom. His brow wrinkled with concern, he walked to her and laid his hand on her shoulder. Skye winced at the flare of pain from her injury.
“I’m sorry. You’ve been through so much, but you need to be aware of what’s going on," Tom said.
Skye nodded and whispered, "Yes, of course."
Tom settled himself on the arm of Skye's chair before continuing. Skye had two reactions to something grim, and they both knew it. When someone needed her, someone she could help, she was all business, approaching the problem with doctor-like precision.
But when that didn't or couldn't work, she switched to avoidance mode. It wasn't something she intentionally did. It just happened, as if ignoring the problem would somehow make it all disappear.
Skye had tried to avoid problems before, during the tragic events at college, the worst of her marriage, and the beginning of this disease. The strategy had not worked in the past, and it wouldn't work now.
“This is a lot," Tom said. "Something you—we—never saw comin. Remember everything you’ve already survived, and you can survive this too. I know you need a break, but there won't be one. I wish it were different, but it is, what it is. You can do this."
Skye gave him a little smile as she slowly twirled her bracelets. “Don’t worry. I’m okay."
Tom nodded and continued his updating. "I dug a ham radio out of the back of a closet at the station and am using it to get what news I can. I reached police or residents in several towns and even in the city. What we're all tryin to find out now is if there is a government left.
"We still got a few working police stations. By that, I mean that someone is on the premises, anyway. But it's like here in most towns, pretty deserted. Everyone is just tryin to keep the healthy people safe from the sick.
“We started dividing people into three categories, Healthy, Infected and Sick. Most Healthy in this area are tryin to help out where they can. Course, I heard from others that isn't always the case. There's some like those guys you met on the road yesterday, so we are keepin alert for those type.
"The Sick are just that—sick. They can't help their actions but need rounded up when possible. They're spreading the disease and are a danger to others when they become enraged.”
Dylan agreed.
Tom went on. "The Infected. There, we've got our hands full and then some. The Infected realize they're diseased and some feel like they don't have anything to lose. Some are fine, family people tryin to get along with what time they have left. But others are forming large groups, and they are bent on destruction. Homes, towns, people, whatever, they don't care."
Wade’s face grew red, and he let out a string of curses. Jesse’s eyes rounded and he looked at Skye, who shook her head at Wade and nodded at Jesse. Wade threw an apology to Jesse and slouched down in his seat.
Skye caught Tom’s eye. “I met some of them in Fenton. They came after me.”
Jesse walked over to Skye and stood beside her. “Were you scared?”
Skye wrapped her arms around the boy. “Very.”
Dylan glanced at Skye and reassured Jesse. "That's why we stick to the hills, Jesse."
The boy quickly nodded. "And why no one's gonna go anywhere anymore."
"That's right." Both Dylan and Tom replied in unison then shot each other a determined look.
Tom continued. "The Infected are the most dangerous in my opinion. They can hide their symptoms of the sickness and can have a bad attitude. They sweep through the towns, making them virtual ghost towns, taking supplies and leaving behind disease, death and destruction.
“They burned a town entirely to the ground and left nothing standing. Some large towns are okay and have a lot of healthy people, but they still battle the Infected and Sick. The National Guard cordoned some towns, but they aren’t holding. And one Sick person can infect everyone so being inside one can be more dangerous than being on one’s own, especially since the cordons often become a magnet for criminals.”
"Like the night I left here. Is that when everything changed here in Colton?" Skye asked.
"Yeah, hasn't been the same since. We ran that group off, but people got spooked and headed off to relatives’ homes in other areas. Some got sick." Tom lowered his head and pinched the bridge of his nose as the memories came back to him. "Many had quick deaths, others I moved to the Clinic at Weirstown since it was still open at the time."
Tricia moved to stand by Tom, taking his hand.
"You know what happened to our Doc?" Wade asked.
"Seen him right before he headed to Fenton," Tom said. "Someone in charge told him he was needed there, to help with the Sick. Packed up his whole family. He thought it would be safer with all the government help and medicines there. I don't think it worked out so well for him though."
"Why?" Skye asked.
"They're sayin the Infected rule the city now, and hordes of Sick walk through it day and night. Fires burn out of control and large portions of Fenton are gone."
"What about the Fenton hospital?" Skye's throat tightened. The conditions there were so unstable.
Tom shook his head. "AgFlu raged through the building. No one survived."
Skye leaned forward, her head sinking to her ha
nds. Tom laid a light hand on her back and gave her a minute.
Her heart ached at the terror and despair those poor people must have felt, the older lady, the young man, and the pregnant woman. She thought of Anna Lynn trying so hard to keep everyone alive. Skye hadn't held out a lot of hope for them, but she wished she'd been wrong.
"The good news is the Healthy continue to be rescued in Fenton and some outlying towns,” Tom said. "Once we get enough people together, we will have a community, and then we can have some law and order around here."
Tom tried to reassure them, but it would take more than a community to stop all the bad that was happening. Skye nodded as if in agreement, because she understood Tom's orderly mind needed to believe there would be an end to the chaos so he could wade through the bad he dealt with every day.
Skye was beginning to see exactly what would be required. When evil takes over your existence, it isn't as simple as saying you want your life back. You have to fight for it.
As her mind swirled with the daunting future she saw ahead of her, but Tom uttered the words he knew would ground her, words that cut through her churning thoughts with crystal clarity.
"They're finding kids, Skye, a lot of kids. They're gonna need you."
32
The Good
As Tom moved from the bad news to the good, Skye felt a warm glow. This is what she needed to hear, how she would help. Unfortunately, broken children had always been part of the world, but it made her feel good to help put them back together.
The others nodded and smiled as Tom named all the friends that were alive and well as of the last check in with the other towns. More survived than she expected given the desolate condition of Colton. They’d left, gone higher into the hills or crossed state lines to get closer to relatives.
The few families remaining in town pooled their resources together, keeping watch as a group with each person able taking a turn.
Skye nodded. Smart. Kinda like a Neighborhood Watch 2.0.