EMP: Return of the Wild West | Book 2 | Survive The Attack

by Hamilton, Grace

  He knew the place. Justine’s mother had worked there. A grocery distribution business that had been abandoned after the EMP. The owners of the place lived a few towns over, and they’d never come back. There was a single small door in the side of the building, and it looked like Dad was pointing the rifle in that direction.

  So this is it, Darryl thought, his bitterness building. This is what you’ve been lying about for days. You haven’t been hunting. You’ve been hiking out here to this old warehouse to spy on it.

  But just what was he doing? Waiting to snipe someone when they came out of the building? Was Dad planning to assassinate a specific person? Darryl hunkered down as quietly as he could and waited. A few minutes passed, and suddenly the side door swung open. Darryl tensed, expecting his father to shoot, but he didn’t He just kept staring through the scope as two people bundled up in black coats and ski pants stepped outside. They spoke for a minute, one of them gesturing broadly, then went back inside.

  Maybe those weren’t Dad’s targets, he thought.

  His father didn’t move. He stayed right where he was, peering through the scope as the minutes passed. Darryl had had enough. All the anger and tension was making him restless. He rose and began creeping backward. Once he felt like he was a safe distance away, he turned and headed home. He’d seen enough.

  Well, I hate to break it to you, Dad, but your secret’s out, he thought, seething. We’ll just get it all out into the open and have a nice chat about your second life as a spy.

  It was a long, miserable hike. At one point, he heard an animal scampering about somewhere off to his right, but he didn’t even bother trying to hunt it.

  After a good hour or more, he finally came in sight of the ranch and stormed his way to the gate, sliding it open and trudging back across the yard. When he stepped into the living room and set the Remington on its shelf, he found Tabitha, Marion, and Emma sitting at the table eating breakfast. Darryl moved to the couch and dropped down, sinking into the cushions.

  “Any luck hunting this morning?” Marion asked.

  “Kind of,” Darryl replied, trying his best to keep the seething resentment out of his voice. He wasn’t entirely successful. “I’ll let Dad tell you all about it.”

  “Is everything okay?” Marion asked.

  He lay down on the couch, leaning his head against the armrest so he wouldn’t see anyone in the dining room. “Everything’s just fine. Like I said, Dad can tell you all about it when he gets back. He’s got an interesting story to tell.”

  “What does that mean?” Marion asked.

  “Just wait,” he replied. “I’ll let him tell you. He can tell the story a whole lot better than I can.”

  “Is there a problem?” Tabitha said.

  “Not sure,” Darryl said. “It’s not for me to say.”

  He heard Emma make a soft little grunt. Did she already know? Had she figured it out? Maybe. She suspected something was up, but soon she would know for sure. They would all know. Darryl realized it was somewhat hypocritical to force his father to reveal a secret when Darryl and Justine were keeping a secret of their own, but there was a distinct categorical difference. Anyway, Dad’s moping was affecting the whole house.

  The others resumed eating. He heard the scrape of forks against plates, the clank of cups on the table, occasional hushed conversation. Maybe fifteen minutes passed before he heard his father tromping up the porch steps. Then the front door swung open, and the old man stood there, silhouetted in sunlight. He’d removed his toque, and his head was steaming, his sweaty blond hair sticking out in strange tangles. Now that he knew the truth, Darryl thought he could see the guilt in his father’s blue eyes. He stepped inside, carrying the SIG in his right hand, and the whole house went still. Tabitha, Marion, and Emma stopped eating.

  As Greg was setting the SIG on the mantel above the fireplace, the orange glow of the remaining embers giving him a faint nimbus, Marion finally spoke.

  “Any luck out there today?”

  He ripped off his gloves and shoved them into his coat pockets. “Nope. Another fruitless day.”

  Darryl knew that if he hesitated much longer, it would become increasingly difficult to speak his mind. He sat up, removed his toque, and just let it out.

  “I have reason to believe Dad has been spying on the men who knocked down the fence and stole our cow.”

  About three seconds of dead silence followed. Darryl glanced to his left and saw the wide eyes of Tabitha and Marion turned in his direction. Emma, on the other hand, was bent over her plate, frowning at the last bites of food.

  “Wait, what? That’s not…don’t…” Dad’s attempt at an excuse just sort of crumbled on his tongue.

  “I know, Dad, because I followed you this morning,” Darryl added. He couldn’t bring himself to look at the old man. “You were staring at that warehouse through the scope of the rifle for a long time, and you had old tracks from previous days leading to the same spot. You’ve been lying to us about hunting. And that’s why you almost never bring any animals home, because you’re not looking for them.”

  “Greg, is this true? Why?” Marion said.

  “I knew it,” Emma said, before Dad could answer. “I thought it was weird that he wasn’t checking the fish traps more often. He’s the one who told me when we first set them up that they had to be checked regularly so coyotes or bears didn’t steal what we captured, but then he almost never checked them, even when I asked. Even though he knew the netting was wearing out.”

  Darryl sensed his father moving toward him and saw the shadow growing on the hardwood floor in front of his feet. Finally, he looked up into angry eyes, the old man looming over him, his arms crossed over his chest.

  “I don’t appreciate that you spied on me,” he said. “I also don’t appreciate that you left the ranch without telling me.”

  It was clearly an attempt at intimidation, but Darryl, already stressed out by his own life circumstances, was too angry to be cowed. He rose from the couch and moved into the dining room, sitting down beside his sister.

  “You put me in this position, Dad,” he said. “You’ve been moping around the house for days and acting rude to everyone. We all deserve to know the truth. Sorry.”

  Greg’s posture changed. The folded arms came down, hands sliding into his coat pockets. His shoulder slumped, and his expression softened.

  “I hope you have a good explanation for this,” Marion said. “You’ve been lying to us…to me…for days.”

  Grandma hadn’t said a word yet, but Darryl thought her expressionless gaze was the most intimidating of all. She was boring holes right through Greg, as if she were actually staring at some awful thing a thousand meters behind him.

  “Okay, fine,” Greg said. “It’s true, and I was going to tell everyone about it eventually. Yeah, I’m spying on people, but these people need to be watched. They pose a threat.”

  “If someone poses a threat, then why all the sneaking around?” Darryl said. “Why act like you resent having me go hunting with you? You could have told us. Heck, you could have invited me or Grandma to come with you. What was the point of lying about it?”

  “Hey, son, I think you’re forgetting your place here,” Greg said sharply. “I’m your father. I don’t answer to you. If I’m doing what I believe is in the best interests of the family, I don’t have to run it past you for your approval.”

  Marion rose then, pushing her chair back and turning to face him, “If it involves some risk to you or any of us, I think it’s fair for me to expect you to discuss it with me. Wouldn’t you say?”

  Greg held his hands up. “Everyone’s attacking me for doing what I thought was best for the family.”

  “Everyone? Oh, I haven’t even begun to attack,” Tabitha said, in a low voice full of threat.

  “Mom, please,” Greg said. In that moment, he sounded whiny and young. “You don’t need to pile on.”

  “Please, nothing,” Tabitha said. “You know damn well we
have to face any problems together. You know damn well the only reason we’ve survived this long is because we’ve looked out for each other, helped each other, worked together. I don’t respond well to lies, even when they’re well intended. Ask Darryl.”

  The sudden turn of blame in his direction caught Darryl off guard. Yes, he had lied and schemed behind his grandmother’s back once, hadn’t he? He’d made a secret trade with the former mayor in the dark of night to obtain medication for Tabitha’s diabetes.

  “To be fair to Darryl, this is worse,” Tabitha continued, “so I’m going to give you a chance to redeem yourself in my eyes, son. You lied to your whole family, to your own wife, to your mother, for days. The only way to get out of this now is to tell us the truth—the full truth. Now, who the heck are you spying on exactly, and what are they planning? I can maybe accept that you were keeping us out of the loop so we wouldn’t worry, but that phase is over. Let’s hear it.”

  At the end of her tirade, a tense silence filled the house. Greg just stood there in the middle of the living room, his hands still poised in the air, but Darryl could see his resistance crumbling. He was clearly intimidated by Tabitha, though she was almost half his size. The boldness that had moved Darryl to pick this fight was all but gone now, and he shrank back into his seat.

  Distantly in the house, he heard a door shut, and he knew it was Justine. Perhaps she had started to come down to breakfast, heard the argument, and retreated back into her room. Darryl hoped so. She didn’t need to be in the middle of this.

  “Dad, just tell us,” Emma added, practically whispering into the silence. “You know Grandma’s not going to let this go until you do.”

  For some reason, her gentle voice was like a haymaker to the jaw after Grandma had lowered his defenses. Greg hung his head and groaned.

  “Fine,” Greg said, lowering his hands to his sides. “You want the whole truth? I was trying to keep everyone safe, but I’ll put it all out on the table. Yes, I’ve been spying on someone. I didn’t want to say his name, because I was hoping I could take care of it on my own. I thought if I handled the situation privately, you would never have to know about it, and we could just get on with our happy lives. But what’s the point now? It’s Eustace Simpson, okay? There it is.”

  Emma gasped, her eyes went wide, and she leaned back in her chair. Tabitha went the other direction, leaning forward and covering her mouth with her hands. Eustace Simpson. It was a name Darryl knew, but a man he’d never met. Grandpa’s killer.

  “He’s alive,” Emma said, in a shocked little voice. “I thought maybe Grandpa…”

  Greg shook his head. “I’m afraid he made it out of those woods alive, and he’s set up shop right here in town. Can you believe it?”

  As the revelation sank in, Darryl felt a heaviness in the air. The Glenvell community had felt somewhat safer in the aftermath of Mayor Filmore’s death, but now a bigger threat had moved into the area. More than that, they’d all assumed Grandpa Tuck had shot and killed Eustace during his final standoff at the edge of the woods. Now, it was clear that Grandpa had lost the fight, and the enemy had escaped.

  “I’ve been spying on Eustace because I intend to kill him,” Greg said, his voice shaking. “He’s got some merry little band of thieves working for him, so I’ve been waiting for the right moment. I don’t want to get in a shootout when I’m outnumbered.”

  “This isn’t something you can handle by yourself, Greg,” Marion said. “What are you thinking?”

  “I’m thinking about keeping my family safe,” he replied, “and I’m thinking about getting revenge. He needs to pay for what he did to my father.” And with that, he looked at each family member in turn. Any shock or shame from having his secret mission exposed was gone from his expression, replaced by a cold, tight-lipped intensity. He ended by fixing his gaze on Emma, who was still leaning back in her chair with a wide-eyed look of shock on her face. “I’m going to avenge your grandfather…and you, Emma. The man who shot you will die for it, I swear to God.”

  His comment hung in the air. Darryl could see conflicting emotions on the faces of his mother and grandmother. Clearly, they wanted revenge too, even if they were still upset with all the secrets. As for Darryl, he didn’t know how he felt. Did Eustace deserve to be put down? Certainly, but his primary concern was Justine and the baby. He didn’t want to take any unnecessary risks.

  “Well, what am I supposed to say to that?” Tabitha grumbled finally. “I don’t excuse the lies, Greg. You know better than to be running around in secret. Still, if there’s any man in the world that I’d love to bury out in the backyard, it’s Eustace Simpson.”

  And then Darryl heard creaking on the stairs, and he turned to see Justine standing there. She was wearing her winter coat over a t-shirt and pajama pants, walking in her socks. She looked bleary-eyed and half-asleep.

  “Why…?” Her voice cracked when she first tried to speak. She wrapped both arms around her belly and cleared her throat. “Why is everyone shouting down here? Don’t you realize how loud you’re being? It’s going on and on. Aren’t you ever going to be done fighting?”

  Everyone turned slowly to look at her. Greg still had that cold scowl on his face.

  I stirred up a fight, and look at what I’ve done, Darryl thought, feeling the sting of guilt.

  “Sorry, dear,” Tabitha said. “We’re just exposing secrets down here, and things got heated, but the worst of it is over.”

  Justine started to say something else, but then her face scrunched up, as if in pain, and she burst loudly into tears. Clutching her belly tightly with both hands, she turned and ran back up the stairs, disappearing around the corner. Darryl heard her footsteps moving down the upstairs hall, and he rose to go after her. Greg even stepped to one side to give him clear passage.

  “Why don’t you sit down again for a second, Darryl?” Tabitha said, in that low, dangerous voice that only she possessed. It could have stopped a charging bull.

  Darryl made it about three steps before he stopped. Justine’s bedroom door slammed shut again.

  “Since we’re exposing secrets this morning, why don’t we talk about you and Justine?”

  This caused his mother and sister to gasp, almost in unison.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about, Grandma,” he replied, but his own cracking voice betrayed him. “I need to go check on her. She’s clearly upset.”

  “I don’t blame her,” Tabitha said sharply. “Keeping secrets is hard.”

  “Darryl, what are you two hiding?” Marion asked.

  Darryl was sorely tempted to walk away, but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Fighting every step of the way, he turned and went back to the dining room, his gaze fixed on the floor. He felt every eye on him, burrowing into him. He made it to the doorway and stopped, leaning his right shoulder against the doorframe. Still, he could see the whites of his grandmother’s eyes at the edge of his vision.

  “Why don’t you go ahead and tell us?” Tabitha said.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he replied. “I have to go check on Justine. She’ll be mad if I don’t.”

  “She needs more sleep,” Tabitha replied, “but it’s hard to sleep in when you’re sick every morning. I heard her vomiting in the guest bathroom through my bedroom wall just before sunrise. It confirmed my suspicions. How long have you known she was pregnant?”

  This went through the room almost as powerfully as the revelation of Eustace’s presence. Darryl saw his mother cover her mouth with her hands, his dad take a step toward him in the living room. On Darryl, this had the effect of making him suddenly angry. Yes, he also wanted to protect Justine from their shock and disappointment.

  “We were going to tell you once Justine was ready,” he said. “I’ve known for a few days, that’s all.”

  “Oh, for God’s sake,” Greg said. “Are you serious?”

  And that pushed Darryl’s anger over the edge. For the first time in his life, he wa
s sorely tempted to turn and punch his father in the face. He would have done it, if he hadn’t feared the consequences. Instead, he bit the inside of his cheek and fought against the sudden surge of fury.

  “Dad, I don’t think you of all people have any right to judge us for keeping a secret,” he said. “Well, fine, now everyone knows. Congratulations. Justine will be twice as scared and even more stressed out, and maybe that’ll hurt the baby. Are you happy, Grandma?” And with that, he dared to meet his grandmother’s gaze. He couldn’t manage it for long. Finally, unable to bear all the shocked expressions, he turned away. “I’m going to check on Justine. Just leave us alone, would you? You’ve already made it worse. Don’t even talk to us about it.”

  And with that, he stormed off, giving his father a wide berth as he headed toward the stairs, his stomach all twisted up in knots. As he stomped up the steps, no one followed him.

  19

  Without question, it was the most uncomfortable breakfast of her entire life. Emma was sorely tempted to storm out of the room just like Darryl, but she didn’t want to draw any attention to herself. Secrets upon secrets. She couldn’t believe what she’d learned that morning, and she felt a potent mix of incompatible emotions. That awful Eustace Simpson was alive, but they might be able to get revenge on him. Justine had been hiding her pregnancy, but that meant a new baby was on the way. It was all awful and wonderful in equal measure, and she just desperately wanted to get away from everyone to process her emotions.

  As she sat there in her seat, forgetting all about the cold food on her plate, Greg stepped out onto the porch. Tabitha and Marion had a whispered conversation, and then they finally got up and went to the porch, as if to convene with Greg. That left Emma alone at the table, for which she was grateful. She moved her food around on the plate with her fork for a few minutes, until she couldn’t stand the smell any longer. Then she rose, pushed her chair back, and stepped out from behind the table.