by Ellis, Tara
Closing his eyes, Russell hummed along and imagined himself back in the small attic room of his childhood. Though often hot, the room afforded him a sort of sanctuary for a short time, where he could play his records and daydream about another life.
The music ended and the memory turned dark, invaded by a cloud of torment that had always seemed present, but never showed its face. Russell’s smile faded and his eyes snapped open.
He stared at the toy for another heartbeat before reaching out and sweeping it onto the floor. The records scattered, while the box itself stayed intact, much like the thick, cloying presence that could never be shaken.
Russell rolled his shoulders and turned away from the room. He didn’t care for it anymore. He’d been able to meditate and think a lot about the state of things, over the past couple of days. About who he was now. The reset button being pushed was a rather liberating phenomenon. Almost enough to compel Russell to believe in a divine plan. Then he realized, or rather, reminded himself that that sort of fallacy was for the weak-minded. He grinned again and began busying himself with clearing the table.
No. He wasn’t limited to a story that was already outlined. He was not a protagonist. He was the author of his own destiny, and he knew how it all ended.
Setting the soiled dishes into a sink that would never again be full of water, Russell stared out the window above it. It had a lovely view, set high up on rolling plains that were boarded by evergreens.
He’d chosen this house for a reason, because of its proximity to the lake. It was actually a reservoir. A large one, responsible for delivering water and power to the thousands of residents located below it.
A warm summer breeze bent the tall grass in the fields before reaching the house and blowing in through the open window. It was heavy with the scents of both sage and pine. An interesting combination.
Russell focused on the lake. He could see a collection of rowboats and kayaks dotting the surface. The irony that they were no doubt fishing for their evening meal, instead of relaxing on summer vacation, wasn’t lost on him. Still, the wooded mountains rising around the clear water offered a view that many would pay good money for.
The lake was full of water, even though it was the middle of summer. Probably because when the power went away, so did the ability to regulate the flow of water. Russell knew this because he’d spent several hours exploring the dam earlier that afternoon. Both the sluice and spillway were closed and had been for the past week. It was an earthen dam. An old one, already in drastic need of maintenance, so it wouldn’t take much.
Russell had been a student of many things during his life. While a lot of that was done outside of a classroom, he held three degrees. One of them was in engineering.
Standing at the window, in the proper and antiquated house situated just right on the rolling plain, Russell began to whistle. It was a good day. One full of potential.
He stayed that way for over three hours. He didn’t mind waiting. The sun continued its march down the sky, casting longer shadows across the empty dining room table until it reached his feet, near the sink. The light, cheery notes of Edelweiss filled the house, over, and over, and over again, until—
Russell froze, his cheeks puckered, ready to start another round of his favorite tune.
Had the level dropped?
Leaning forward over the sink, Russell squinted at the lake, holding his breath. Yes. Yes, the level was dropping. Quickly.
Russell thought of the residents below the dam, being swallowed up by a wall of water, and the thousands more that would be without a viable reservoir. They were not in charge of their destiny. He was.
Russell began to whistle again.
Chapter 17
CHLOE
Mercy, Montana
“What do you think is going to happen when Hicks and the boys get here?” Ripley asked as she glanced around to make sure no one was listening.
Chloe knew she had a good point. They’d been fortunate to run into Sandy Miller when they did. And if it hadn’t been for Bishop’s beneficial qualities, Sandy’s argument for needing help on the farm might not have been enough to keep them from getting kicked out of Mercy.
Bishop took Ripley’s elbow and guided her over to a picnic table so they could all sit down and talk. They were on the outskirts of the main part of town, which consisted of only a few square blocks. It was another picture-perfect Montana summer day masquerading as normal. The small park was across from the only gas station and as their group gathered in it, Chloe wished the coffee stand next to it was up and running. She could so use some caffeine.
Trevor settled in between her and Crissy, looking both relieved and stressed at the same time, if that was possible. Bishop and Ripley sat opposite them, placing their backpacks on the table. It was a stark reminder of how close they had all come to leaving and that they were saying goodbye to Ripley.
“We’ll deal with that when it happens,” Bishop said. “Right now, I’d rather try and talk you into staying.”
Ripley shook her head. “Uh-uh. You know full well that if your son were in Helena, or even Butte, you’d already be gone.”
Chloe watched as Bishop frowned in response but she wasn’t surprised when he didn’t try and deny it. She’d be gone, too, if she thought there was a way for her to make it home. However, six hundred miles and three passes made it a daunting mission to even consider. Throw in the fact that she wasn’t sure her parents were home when the flash hit, and it made much more sense to wait it out. Although the guy named Caleb talked with Bishop like it was the end of world, she was still holding out hope for things to be fixed at some point.
Chloe looked over at Crissy at the thought of her parents. Her friend wasn’t doing well. She was from California, which was a lot farther and the younger girl seemed to be falling into a restless depression.
“And I don’t think avoiding the Hicks topic is the way to go,” Ripley pressed. She glanced at the teens before looking again at Bishop. “We all know Hicks is a good guy. The boys, on the other hand, are going to be a hard sell.”
Bishop waved her off. “I’ve already mentioned them to Sandy. If they show up, we’ll figure it out.”
“If?” Crissy spoke up. Her red-rimmed eyes had dark bags under them and her blonde hair had yet to be brushed since reaching Mercy.
Chloe knew that she had a bit of a crush on Jason and as obnoxious as he was, Crissy didn’t need the added anxiety. “They’ll be fine.” Chloe encouraged, and then reached across Trevor to take one of Crissy’s hands, while offering him a weak smile. “We’re all going to be fine.”
“Melissa—I mean Doctor Olsen—is pretty cool,” Trevor stammered. “I hope you guys don’t mind me staying with her. It’s just that her house is super close to the school, where the clinic is. Plus, I’ll have my own room. She’s got a big house.”
Chloe nudged shoulders with Trevor, pushing him into Crissy. She was happy when it caused the smaller girl to giggle. “Of course we don’t mind. We might be able to actually get some sleep at night.”
Trevor blushed. “I told you. I don’t normally snore. It’s my allergies.”
“We’ll miss you,” Crissy promised, clasping onto his arm. “And you better come see us at the ranch as much as possible.”
Trevor nodded enthusiastically. “Sure, Crissy. Maybe you can help at the clinic? I can’t really picture you wrangling cows.”
Crissy giggled again and then wrinkled her nose. “No! But I don’t like being around sick people, either. Actually, Sandy has a huge garden she needs help with. My grandma always said I have two green thumbs. Oh! And chickens. Stinky things, but I still like them.” Chloe felt some relief to see Crissy smiling again. Maybe she’d be okay if they could keep her distracted.
Ripley had been silently watching the conversation, her expression hard to read. She shifted on the bench so that she was facing Bishop. “Don’t worry about me,” she urged. “My fiancé is a cop and I know he’s out there somewhere
. I’ll find him, and we’ll figure things out. Sandy said we could come back here if it’s too dangerous to stay in Helena.”
Bishop tilted his head, looking unconvinced. “Why don’t you just wait here and see if he turns up? He knows where you were on the hike. If he’s as smart as you say he is, he’ll figure out this was the nearest place for you to seek refuge.”
Ripley squirmed. “Bishop, I’m not going to argue with you, or debate all the possibilities. I think he would be here by now if that were the case, so I’m left with going to him. And that’s okay. My mind is made up,” she urged when Bishop tried to interrupt her. “I’m leaving in the morning. Now, are you all going to walk me to the new Pony Express station or not?”
The group of riders and horses were leaving at first dawn, so it was suggested that Ripley stay the night there. Bishop stood and grabbed both of their packs without comment. Ripley stopped him with a hand on his chest. “Thank you.”
As the older man walked off toward the nearby house they’d been directed to, Chloe jumped up and stepped in front of Ripley. Thinking back to early in their trek, before all of their lives had changed, she thought about the simple request the kind woman had made of her. Since then, Chloe had developed a heavy dose of respect for Ripley. To her surprise, Chloe didn’t have to force the smile. “Please be careful.”
Ripley hugged her, and as they embraced, she whispered near her ear. “Take care of them. Things aren’t always what they seem.”
Chapter 18
ETHAN
South of Virginia, Idaho
I don’t want to die.
Ethan kept having the same thought as he sat astride his horse and watched while the two men he’d come to hate debated their next move. They’d reached Charlie’s place before nightfall, only to discover that the property was abandoned.
“I told ya, no one’s here!” Billy whined. “Now what are we supposed to do?”
Decker kicked at a garbage can, knocking it over. Ethan flinched. He’d almost made a run for it a few hours earlier, but chickened out. He still wasn’t sure if they had any bullets left and he kept imagining what it would feel like to have one slam into his back as he rode away. Or, even worse, for his head to explode like the man’s did that morning, back in Pocatello.
Charlie didn’t keep a very neat house. It wasn’t a house, really, but a trailer. A very old trailer with the tires rotting off it and moss growing on the roof. Beer cans littered the ground around a couch that sat outside the front door. It was soiled to the point that Ethan made sure to give it a wide berth.
A dilapidated barn was the only solid structure, although it was missing several boards from the front wall. Decker had just finished looking inside of it and he’d returned empty-handed.
“Charlie must have bugged out and taken the stash with him,” Decker said, stepping on beer cans as he made his way around to the backside of the trailer.
Ethan had no idea what the “stash” might be. He figured either drugs or weapons. Maybe both. Either way, Decker was in a foul mood, even for him. They were getting low on food, in spite of his scavenging, and the two didn’t seem capable of hunting or fishing. He knew he was becoming more baggage than help, especially since they’d freed themselves.
A pathetic whimper drew his attention over to an oak tree in the front yard. Sliding down off his horse, Ethan took a few steps toward the tree and was dismayed to see a dog cowering in the shade. It was a black lab, difficult to spot in the shadows. There was a stagnant pond nearby that it must have been drinking from, but it was obviously starving to death.
Billy watched him as he moved closer, and Ethan didn’t care if it earned him another beating. If he couldn’t help himself, or the people they’d killed, he’d at least help the dog. It took a few minutes to work out the knots, but once freed, the dog didn’t even look back before scooting off into the bushes.
“What are you doing?”
Ethan jumped at Decker’s harsh voice and spun back to find him watching him. “I was just—”
“Get the horses.”
“What, we’re leaving?” Billy asked, looking annoyed. “After hearing you talk about this place for the past six days, we aren’t even staying one night?”
Decker shoved Billy aside as he went past, knocking the smaller man to the ground. “We aren’t staying in this trash heap. I wasn’t coming here for the accommodations.”
“So, where are we going?” Billy rubbed at his hip.
Ethan had already gotten back on his own horse and held the lead ropes to the other two in his hand. He braced himself. If the two got into a fight, it was the shot he was looking for. No pun intended.
Unfortunately, instead of turning back to Billy for an argument, Decker chose to grab Tango’s reins. “I’ll let you know when I decide. Maybe Vegas.”
“Vegas!” Billy awkwardly mounted the other mare. After four days, he still had a hard time getting on the horse. “You know how far that is? Why not just find a nice, empty place close by?”
“I got my reasons.” Decker pointed at Billy. “You’re welcome to go your own way whenever you want.”
Billy hesitated and Ethan realized the smaller man didn’t believe Decker would let him leave. He was probably right.
“Nah…Vegas sounds good, man. I’ll bet there’re all sorts of nice places there ripe for the taking.”
Decker turned his attention back to Ethan. “How about you, kid? Ever been to Vegas?” Decker sneered at him then, the same way he’d looked at the farmer right before killing him.
The growing unease in Ethan’s chest blossomed. He needed to buy some time. Just one more night. He had to get away before they got too far away from the town of Virginia. If his dad got his note, he’d be looking for him around here. If they went south, he might never find him, and he knew his dad was coming for him.
Ethan thought about his mom and stepdad, and the large mansion-like estate they had. “I live there.” Decker squinted at him and he did his best not to wilt under the scrutiny. “My stepdad is a computer designer, but he and my mom were gone when…it happened. It’s a huge house. With a pool,” he added lamely, but Billy wouldn’t understand that the pool would soon be unusable without the filter system running.
Vegas was twice as far as it was to Mercy and his mom wouldn’t be there, so Ethan had no real reason to want to return. However, if Decker and Billy thought he’d be enough of an asset to take along, he’d live another day. Heck, they might even let their guard down enough if they thought he was on board with the trip that he could actually get away that night. He decided to throw himself into the role.
“I know how to get here,” Ethan said with more enthusiasm than he’d shown since the day he was taken. “My dad was bringing me to his place for the summer, but I didn’t even want to go. If you help me get home, I’ll fish and hunt for you, and you can keep the horses.”
Decker’s sneer was replaced with a quizzical expression and he stared at Ethan for so long that he thought he’d made a huge mistake and the convict had seen right through his charade. Then, instead of shooting him, he broke out into loud laughter. “So now you want to be our partner? You’ve got guts, kid.”
Billy spat at Ethan as he rode past and it took all of his willpower not to react. “So long as he still cooks and waits on us, I don’t care what he is,” Billy cackled before kicking his horse into a trot.
Decker pulled at Tango’s reins as the spirited horse stomped in anticipation of following the mare. “Stay close. It’s a long way to Vegas.”
Ethan allowed himself to breathe again once they were all moving. He’d managed to extend his usefulness but it didn’t change the fact that he was still traveling farther away from his dad. He looked up at the sky and determined twilight was less than an hour away. They wouldn’t get that far before stopping.
It turned out to be even less than he’d thought. Twenty minutes later, Billy called out a hello to someone up ahead and Decker motioned for Ethan to stop. The na
usea that was always coiled in the pit of his stomach spread out, threatening to gag him. Whether it was from radiation or stress, Ethan wasn’t sure. Whenever they encountered someone, he was terrified they’d end up dead like the trail of others they’d left behind them.
Ethan slowly nudged his horse forward and saw there was a man and woman situated off to the side of the road. They hadn’t pitched their tent yet, although their gear was spread out in the grass. They were both squatting down next to a creek that ran within about thirty feet of the interstate.
The middle-aged Hispanic man stood first, eying them cautiously. The woman remained on the ground and Ethan noticed a golden retriever behind her, staying protectively close.
“What’s that you got there?” Decker barked, without wasting time on introductions. He was pointing at something the man was holding, and Ethan realized the woman had one, too. Some sort of odd-looking water bottle.
The man hesitated and Ethan’s anxiety grew. He edged closer and tried to make eye contact with the man, but he was focused on Decker. He didn’t look intimidated and that was bad. Very bad.
“It’s just a question,” Billy jeered. He was staring hard at the woman.
“They’re filters,” the woman said, standing. She was somewhat exotic-looking, with long dark hair and a bronzed complexion. She was large for a woman. Bigger than the man she was with.
Billy looked over at Decker, his smile growing. Ethan thought he might throw up. It was horrible timing. He was so close to getting away! He realized then that the woman was looking at him. He knew what he looked like, and her expression wasn’t hard to read. Understanding… contempt. He gave his head a small shake, trying to discourage her from helping him.