The Irrevocable Series Boxed Set

by Samantha Jacobey

Starting at the highest and furthest point in the house, she gathered the items that had been strewn about in the master bedroom. Clothes and personal items she stuffed into trash bags for the mistress of the property to sort through when she returned. Tossing the sheets over the banister, she clomped down the steps to put them into the washer so the beds would be ready for whoever needed them when the time came.

  Working her way through the other bedrooms, she discovered that it was Caleb’s mattress that had been provided for her, so she threw all of his ransacked items into the hall to wash for him, and finished the room itself from there. Moving on to Carson’s, she had a better idea of what she wanted to accomplish, so it went fairly quickly.

  Tackling the upstairs bathroom, she knocked it out, then hauled the boys’ laundry down, making sure to remake the beds as she had intended with the clean sheets. By the time lunch came around, she had all but completed the cozy dwelling, and set about preparing a hot meal for her cohorts, fairly certain they would need one.

  When the hands on the clock read noon, Bailey began to grow concerned, pacing the small kitchen and checking on her makeshift meal. With nothing to directly occupy her, she began to contemplate their situation and the events of the last few days and weeks. Quickly realizing worrying over her brothers was a lost cause, she purposely steered clear of that topic, and considered what might be taking place back in Midland instead.

  Recalling their last trip to Wal-Mart, probably the most popular store in town, it had been quite a shock to see so many of the shelves emptied completely. Of course, there had been a shortage, even before news of the snowstorm had spread. Having the bad weather had only added fuel to the fire. Staring into space for a moment, she wondered if Mark really had stayed at his post until the last burger had been served, shaking her head at the very idea of such a thing.

  Leaving her pots on over a low flame to stay warm, Bailey took a peek outside, walking from one end of the porch to the other. To her dismay, the snow fell in sheets, obviously heavier than it had been before, and appeared to be in no way letting up. Peering into the thick haze, she could make out the diner, and picked up on the faint sound of voices from that direction the best she could tell.

  Assuming they belonged to her men, she decided to give them another half hour before she became panicked enough to go investigate. Returning to the warmth inside, she stood in the doorway and glared at the living area they had shared the night before. This room doesn’t need much right now, since we’re still using it.

  The room itself good-sized, it covered about one third of the first floor, with the kitchen beyond taking up another third. Immediately to the left of the entrance lay a small cubicle, which was the only remaining room to be put back in order. To the right of that lay the stairs, and between those and the kitchen lay a narrow hallway, which led to another bathroom on the left underneath them, and the laundry room on the right.

  With a small sigh, she tackled the last room in the house, which was a complete shambles. The small area had been set aside as an office, with a desk and a computer, and nothing, including the desk, was where it should have been.

  All of their paperwork had been overturned and tossed about, and the drawers all dumped into a pile. Whatever they had been looking for, I’m certain they found. Setting up the tower and monitor, Bailey reconnected all of the lines, her mind turning in the process. The sheriff jumped the gun coming here before Martial Law had been instituted, if it has been yet at all.

  Of course, she realized that could have been the point. The residents were obviously prepared to defend themselves, violently if necessary, but had not anticipated the attack at such an early point in the chain of events. I wonder how long those guys had been planning this.

  Watching the screen flicker to life, she considered how much Caleb knew about this rogue group of officers, as he had not seemed surprised they had been the aggressors in the end. Seeing that the internet connection remained, she smiled faintly, well, the rest of the world hasn’t completely disappeared yet.

  Pulling up a browser, she navigated to yahoo, where she discovered that the media machine still rolled, at least for the time being. The horrific pictures gave her a deep ache in the pit of her stomach, and a moment later, tears began to trickle down her cheeks at the blatant way the images of men, women and children, caught for eternity in their moment of suffering, were brazenly displayed at the top of each story.

  Dear God, she breathed, Caleb was right! The plague had not been enough in itself, but complicated the issue with the earthquakes and ice storms; oh, and don’t forget the cluster of hurricanes that bombarded the east coast right at the end of the season. Those poor people in Florida; flooded and then frozen within a matter of a month. Even the outbreak of volcanic eruptions from the summer before could have been a contributing factor, as it had set the stage.

  She recalled how each and every disaster had been followed by a cascade of media hype, adding to the social unrest. It’s not right, the way the ratings machine worked; nothing of value, and all sensationalized. Wiping at her trails of sadness, she closed the connection, thankful they had escaped; the frog is definitely boiling, she sighed.

  On Our Own

  Hearing the sound of her comrades entering through the kitchen, Bailey shifted quickly into the small downstairs lavatory and washed her face. Joining them when she had restored her features the best she could, she discovered they had served themselves and were sitting at the table, devouring the dishes.

  “I was beginning to worry,” she teased, filling a bowl of her own.

  “Well,” Caleb grinned, “Once we got started, it was kinda hard t’ stop.” Noticing the red that stood out around her eyes, he watched her take her seat. Casting a quick glance at the boy next to him, he asked more quietly, “Everything ok here?”

  “Yes,” she avoided looking at him, “Everything is in order, in fact,” she stirred her stew for a moment. “I got the computer hooked up, and we still have access to the outside world.” She lifted her gaze to meet his, not wanting to verbally share what she had seen in too much detail. “It’s not good.”

  “Damn,” he broke the connection, continuing to eat for a short time before saying anything else. “At least we aren’t there, seein’ it first hand,” he muttered a few minutes later. He knew their small taste at Wal-Mart on the way out of town had been quite enough.

  “Right!” she echoed his sentiment, “But we definitely need to get the grounds secured, which means we have to get the gate repaired one way or the other.”

  “Yeah,” he nodded, “I’ve been thinkin’ about that, an’ I took a few measurements. The gates are actually th’ same size, so we could make the switch, an’ block up the cattle entrance. Plus we have the horse arena; we can dismantle that for the beams t’ do it with. We’d pretty much have to, since it’s such a large expanse an’ it needs t’ be sturdy.”

  “That’s good thinking,” she replied, “But how are you going to do that in the middle of a snow storm?”

  “Very carefully.”

  Frowning heavily, she wondered if he were pulling her leg. “Well, I guess I could help.”

  “No,” he cut her off before she could go any further, “You need to take care o’ restorin’ order t’ all o’ the buildings. Take inventory o’ what we have left that we can use.” Leaning back in his chair, he pushed his empty dish away. “You said the internet still works?”

  “Yes, I was looking at the news when you came in.”

  “Good. We’re gonna head back over t’ the diner, an’ finish boardin’ that up. Plus get th’ rest o’ the windows in the houses before nightfall. You, jump back on there an’ message everyone in the group, or make a post. I don’t care, but somehow we need t’ let ‘em know we’re here.”

  “You think they will see it?” she gasped.

  “I have no idea,” he ran his fingers around the outside of his lips, “It’s just in case, really. If for some reason one o’ them was t’ get access, the
y would know.”

  “Alright,” she agreed reluctantly, “I’ll message them individually. How are you boarding everything up? Are you tearing out the walls and moving them?”

  “No,” he chuckled, realizing that she hadn’t seen all of what lay hidden at The Ranch by a long shot, “Not all o’ the garages have cars in them. In fact, only a few o’ them hold vehicles. One o’ them is stacked with sheets o’ plywood an’ other buildin’ materials. We have some glass, but not nearly enough t’ repair all o’ th’ windows they busted, so coverin’ ‘em will have t’ do.”

  “Jesus, you guys really did think of everything!” she praised in awe.

  Caleb only grinned, standing to help himself to more coffee, “We got a lotta work ahead of us, little bit. I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. This’s supposed t’ be the last day o’ the snow, right?”

  “Actually, I don’t recall seeing any new predictions,” she rose to begin the cleanup. “All they are reporting at the moment is the mayhem. But, on the way down, that was the last forecast; three days of snow. So I think it will be today or tomorrow.”

  “All right,” he agreed, “So we keep workin’ on the interiors an’ shorin’ up the buildings an’ hope that tomorrow we catch a break. I figure we have a week at best, after it stops, before they come back for whatever else they wanna get. Provided they don’ decide t’ move their own people in here.”

  “Why would they move their own people in here?” her eyes narrowed.

  “This place was designed t’ provide resources, t’ feed the group an’ all that. You gotta admit, it’s pretty sweet. I’m sure they’ll at some point decide t’ colonize it, an’ make use of our facilities,” he offered his assessment while slipping on his jacket. “Don’ worry about that right now. After you’re done here, I suggest you tackle th’ ranch house. When we get our people back, it’ll make more sense t’ crowd into th’ larger building t’ conserve what we can, at least at th’ beginning.”

  “Ok,” she agreed with a slight nod, “So we’re pretty safe, as long as the snows falling, you think?”

  “Yeah,” he agreed, reaching for her and catching the back of her head with his right hand. Allowing his thumb to trace the line of her ear, his clear blue eyes bore into her, “We gotta be tough, Bailey. Things are likely t’ get worse before they get better.”

  Stepping towards him, she flung her arms around his broad shoulders, ignoring the damp feel of his jacket pressed against her. “I know,” she managed, squeezing him as tightly as she could.

  His arms found their way around her waist, hugging her snuggly against him, “Get your chores done, Bailey-girl, an’ dress warm when you go outside.” he nuzzled the top of her head, “We’ll see you after dark.” Turning to go, he had one more command, “Oh, an’ I need you t’ cover th’ windows.”

  “Excuse me?”

  “Take some blankets, an’ hang ‘em over th’ windows; t’ help insulate ‘em,” he offered the reason, hoping she would accept it.

  “Ok,” she grinned, not questioning his motives.

  With a brief wave, Caleb collected his brother, and the pair made their way through the wind driven snow. Arriving at the diner, they finished hanging the plywood over the last few openings, and gathered their tools.

  “She don’ know much,” Carson commented quietly.

  “No,” his older brother agreed, “But she’s learnin’,” he voiced his approval of the girl.

  “It’s not safe,” he continued to push, “She could get us killed.”

  “She’s fine,” Caleb stopped moving and faced him squarely, “We’re on our own, Cars, an’ we need each other. We all have our place, an’ I don’ wanna hear nothin’ else about it.”

  His blue eyes blinking slowly beneath his bright red hair, Carson adjusted his cap anxiously, “Why’d you pick her?” he demanded, his displeasure at his brother’s choice obvious.

  An uncomfortable silence followed, as Caleb dropped his glare and finished preparing to get on to the next structure. Leading the younger Cross to the Burns - Tate duplex, he felt his gut twist at the accusation. Inside, he began to measure the few windows that had been shattered, “I didn’ pick her,” he admitted quietly.

  Jotting down the numbers, they moved to the garage behind the structure to select their wood and make the necessary cuts. “I know you don’ get it yet,” he spoke sternly while looking over his choices, “But someday you will.”

  “Ok,” the boy pouted slightly, “So why her? What makes her so special?”

  “She’s jus’ the one, Carson,” he stopped moving, cutting his eyes over to glare at him. “She’s exactly that – special. She’s stronger than you, or anyone else aroun’ here realizes. Smart, caring, loyal.” He paused, glancing around nervously, “Don’ say anything t’ her about this.”

  “’Bout what?” he wrinkled his nose.

  “About her an’ me, an’ stuff like that. Jus’ let it be. We ain’ talked about it, an’ now ain’t the time,” the blond insisted. “Maybe when we get settled an’ some idea o’ what the future holds, but not now.” Giving his brother an icy stare, he commanded more loudly, “You got me?” In a flash, he punched his younger sibling in the shoulder for emphasis.

  “Yeah, I got you!” Carson shot back, massaging the appendage through the thick jacket.

  “Ok, le’s get this done,” Caleb returned to work, “We only got so much daylight, an’ then we need to be back inside.”

  “Tha’s why you had ‘er cover the window, huh? So no one sees th’ lights.”

  “Yeah,” he exhaled loudly, “I don’ know that anybody would, but jus’ in case.”

  Throwing themselves into the process, the pair completed that dwelling, and the one across the street. Noting the dark outside had begun settling into actual night, they packed their gear and trudged back to the house, where only a soft glow could be seen as they got closer.

  “It’s not completely dark,” Carson commented.

  “No, but it’s not bright,” Caleb pointed out. “An’ it’ll have t’ do. Leave it alone,” he instructed, stomping the snow off his boots on the back step.

  Inside, the smell of another vegetable and noodle stew greeted them, and he chuckled at the sight of the cornbread, “I think we’ll have to make another trip into Lawson, maybe tomorrow. We got some meat down there.”

  “Canned?” she inquired, recalling the hog they had preserved over the summer.

  “Yup, plus whatever’s in that giant freezer,” he agreed with a grin, “Don’ get me wrong, I love how you’re makin’ the best o’ what we got. But, we’re gonna need a little more sustenance, especially with the cold.”

  “True,” she returned his smile, “We can do that.” Taking her seat, she pushed on, “Would you like to hear my report?”

  “Sure,” he played along, glad to see she seemed in better spirits.

  “Well, everything here is in order, and I put all of you guys’ clothes away,” she grinned at the younger of the two, hoping he would be pleased with her efforts. “I also tackled the ranch house, and bagged up everyone’s stuff over there. What do you think those guys were looking for?”

  “Whadda you mean?” Caleb crumbled more of the bread into his bowl.

  “They ransacked everything, but it didn’t look as if anything was missing, except the food. And the people, of course.” She flicked her eyes between them, “They didn’t even take the computers.”

  “I’m sure they took what appeared t’ be o’ value,” he supplied, “An’ money’ll be pretty worthless. Weapons, ammunition, an’ food’ll be high on th’ list. An’ they took the big radio outta the diner, so I bet all the handhelds are gone, too. They might’ve come in handy at some point, but again, we can’t worry about that.”

  “I didn’t find any radios, so I suppose you’re right. You know who they are, don’t you,” her voice grew quiet, “And where they’ve taken everyone.”

  “I have an idea,” he nodded, dropping his tone as well. “One t
hing at a time, little bit. Tomorrow, we finish with the buildings, an’ gettin’ our inventory. After that, we see what we can do about the gate. I think we may seal up the front. Even if we have t’ go around the side t’ get in an’ out with vehicles. That means anyone tryin’ t’ get in will have to as well, an’ that could work to our advantage.”

  The girl swallowed, her eyes growing wide, “Do you really think they’ll come back here?”

  “Yeah,” he dusted his hands noisily, “I tol’ you, I’m not gonna sugarcoat it. We need t’ get set. How’d the messaging go?” he changed the subject easily.

  “It went fine. I copied and pasted the same to all. The Ranch is secured, and we are preparing for your return. Please advise your situation and what we can do to help. That’s it. I didn’t want to get too specific, in case someone else were to gain access to the information,” she toyed with her spoon, trying to evaluate his expression.

  “That’s good,” he praised. Eating for a few minutes, he finished the meal before he shared what he knew. Rising to clear away his empties, he supplied, “There’s a township about eight miles south o’ th’ main turn-off; founded about five years ago. It was a real problem when they moved in; made th’ menfolk pretty nervous.”

  “And why is that?” she queried, joining him in the cleanup.

  Not taking his eyes off his work, he exhaled loudly, “That’s a bit of a long story. Le’s get everything taken care of, an’ I’ll tell you about it once we’re settled for bed.” He cut his gaze over, smiling at the girl genuinely, and grateful that she had opted to share the living area for the time being; this way we get to be close, an’ Carson can be our chaperone.

  Too Close for Comfort

  Bailey reluctantly allowed the process to continue, until they had put the kitchen in order, and everyone had washed up and dressed for bed. Stretching out on her mattress, she slid beneath the covers, noting that Caleb resumed his position on the sofa, although he could not see down the road with the thick covering over the front glass.