by Alex Gunwick
One day before …
Kyle followed a step behind his mother as they navigated the tricky mountain terrain roughly a mile to the east of their cabin. A memory of his younger self, before the bombs fell, bubbled to the surface of his mind as he stepped in his mother’s footprints in the snow. He used to have to run to keep up with her because he’d been so small. But he wasn’t a little boy anymore. Another growth spurt or two, and he would be as tall or taller than his mother.
Keeping up with her was easy now. In fact, he’d been walking ahead of her more than she liked. She scolded him and forced him to follow a step behind. Of course, then he’d get distracted and fall back, which sent her into a near panic. Only her threat to make him hold her hand made him pay attention and keep close.
In a way, he understood. Sierra was already gone. His mom would want to keep a close eye on him, so he didn’t get lost too.
Ever since he’d swung that ax into the bad guy’s back his mother had treated him differently. Almost as if she were a little bit afraid of him.
He didn’t see what the big deal was. He wasn’t the problem child. Hadn’t he proven himself already? Why did she still treat him like a little kid?
This was the third day in a row he and his mother had gone out to search for Sierra. Kyle was quite furious with her for running off. His father said there were many preparations to be made if the family were to survive winter in the mountains. Instead, the whole family had to be out in the snow to look for his stupid sister.
Sierra hadn’t always been a selfish twit. When she was still a kid like him, she was one of the brightest girls in her class. She’d taught Kyle how to read and had graciously helped him with his homework. He loved that version of Sierra.
But then she went to high school. Suddenly it wasn’t cool to talk about Godzilla or skateboarding. She only wanted to talk to kids her age about sex and drinking. High school ruined his sister. Maybe she would have stood a chance if she hadn’t turned out to be so pretty. She’d gone from being the smart girl to the pretty girl. She soaked up all the attention from her classmates, especially the boys. She didn’t have time to read with Kyle anymore. She hardly even spoke to him. It sucked.
Kyle realized he’d fallen a dozen paces behind his mother while lost in thought. He hastened to catch up. He didn’t want to be forced to hold her hand. And it was a good thing, too, because he caught her in the middle of a question.
“—you see any of those berry bushes I showed you the other day? The berries are edible even when green. You haven’t seen any, have you?”
“Ah, no, I haven’t seen those.” Kyle heaved a heavy sigh. “My feet hurt. How much longer do we have to be out here?”
His mother turned his way with a sharp glare but never slowed her pace.
“Until we find Sierra. Is that clear?”
“Crystal clear.” Kyle knew better than to argue with that tone.
They trudged on in silence as they moved steadily up the mountain. They’d chosen one of the winding trails they hadn’t checked yet. Every once in a while, he could hear deer. They bounded off in the brush, so he never got a clear look at them, much less a chance for a shot. Too bad.
His parents were worried about food, which was why he’d brought along his rifle. It felt good to have it with him again. The camo pattern worked well in the woods. He also had a full camo outfit, courtesy of his dad.
He was a good shot. At the firing range, he was able to out point his father a few times. Kyle often wondered if his father let him win, but whatever, he could still take down a deer if given the chance. One shot to the head, so the animal wouldn’t have to suffer. That was very important. His father also stressed how important it was to finish off your kill. It was cruel to injure an animal and then let it run off to suffer and die slowly. Once you pulled the trigger, a commitment was made that had to be honored.
Honor and duty.
Kyle sighed. He wanted his father to be proud of him. He also wanted his mother to treat him like a competent, contributing member of the team.
They took a break on a ridge that overlooked a swath of forest. Overcast skies muted the normally vibrant green foliage. Most of the trees and grass were covered in snow. It was super weird to get snow up here. He’d overheard his dad worrying about nuclear winter, whatever that was. If they didn’t have so much stuff to do, they could make snowmen and go sledding. Maybe later, after they’d found Sierra and after he’d finished his chores.
They stopped to take a break. While his mother chewed on dried fruit, he sat on a rock to retie his boots. When he was about to stand up again, a slight movement caught his attention.
As he peered intently into the nearby woods, Kyle’s eyes widened as he beheld a clutch of rabbits in a small hollow. The bushes grew dense on three sides of the hollow, which meant the rabbits had to run past him in order to escape.
Kyle’s heart pounded in his chest, but he willed himself to be calm. The difference made by his rushing blood could throw off his aim, and a rabbit was a small target. He moved at a snail’s pace as he retrieved his rifle. He didn’t want to spook them.
He took aim down the scope and flipped off his safety. The rabbits were less than twenty feet away, point blank for this model of rifle. He sighted in on the biggest rabbit. Kyle took a breath, held it, and squeezed the trigger.
The shot cracked the frigid air, and the rabbit fell, instantly dead. Its fellows surged into action and leapt about in circles as they forgot the way out in their panic. Kyle had plenty of time to pull back the bolt on his rifle and take aim again.
“Stop.” His mother’s voice was urgent, frantic, but Kyle was focused so totally on his objective that her words seemed a distant hum. He fired once more, and again a rabbit fell painlessly to the forest floor.
“Have you lost your mind?” Kyle’s mother rushed over to his side. Another bullet chambered, another squeeze of the trigger, and a third shot rang out to fell the remaining rabbit.
His mother grabbed the stock of his rifle, yanked it out of his hands, and tossed it onto the snowy ground. It made him cringe to see so fine a weapon mistreated.
“What the heck?” he asked.
“Didn’t you hear me tell you to stop?” She jabbed her finger at him, face contorted with anger. “When I tell you to stop, you stop. Understand?”
Kyle turned to point at the three rabbits. “But I got them. I got all three of them right in the head, so they didn’t suffer—”
“Don’t you talk back to me.” His mother put her hand over her eyes and sighed. When she spoke again her voice was a great deal calmer. “Look, I appreciate you’re trying to help the family, and to be honest, that was great marksmanship, but you need to think before you act.”
“I’m sorry.” Kyle picked up his rifle and wiped snow off the barrel. “I just kind of reacted, you know?”
“I know. But those shots can be heard for miles.”
Kyle’s heart sank as he realized the implications of her words. He’d broadcast to every COB cultist on the mountain that there was someone out there with a hunting rifle. If they’d had military training like his father and Derek, they might even be able to surmise what caliber the weapon was.
“Oh, geez.” Kyle frowned as he contemplated his mistake. “I’m sorry. But we need food. And this is food. We’ll have something for Sierra to eat when she comes back. Right?”
His mother’s eyes grew watery as if she were fighting back tears.
“She’s coming back, right, Mom?” he asked softly.
“Of course, she will.” There was a tremble in her voice Kyle didn’t like. “Of course, she will.”
Liz stared down at her son and wondered when he’d become so acclimated to violence. She’d tried to keep him away from the most violent TV shows, movies, and video games, but she couldn’t watch him all the time.
Kyle was a good kid overall. She and Luke weren’t completely incompetent as parents. But he’d always been a little too smitten with the i
dea of war and of being a soldier. Naturally, he wanted to be like his father. All boys wanted to be like their fathers at that age. But after the bombs fell, Kyle doubled down on his fantasies of the good fight. The way he attacked the cultist with the ax, going for the back because he knew that was where the man was most vulnerable, bespoke of a change in her child that Liz was uncomfortable with.
Kyle shifted from foot to foot as his gaze flicked between her and the fallen rabbits.
“Should we go ahead and get the rabbits and head for the cabin? I mean, I know you’re mad I shot them and all, but now that I did, we shouldn’t let them go to waste, right?”
Liz sighed before forcing a smile. “I’m a little angry with you. You need to think before you act, Kyle. But I’m proud of you as well. Those were amazing shots.”
She ruffled his hair. A grin broke out on his face. He’d inherited his father’s dimples. He wouldn’t hurt for a prom date when—
Liz smiled bitterly. Kyle wouldn’t be going to prom. Prom was a relic of the old world. The new post-bomb world would have different coming of age rituals, like swinging an ax into someone’s back.
“We should take the rabbits and head back to the cabin.” She surveyed the forest around them fearfully. “In case someone heard those shots and comes looking for us.”
“Hey, maybe Sierra got lost and heard those shots and will come back now?”
“Maybe.” Liz considered the fallen rabbits and shook her head. “How in the world are we going to get these back home?”
“I can carry them. They’re not real heavy.”
“I don’t want you crushing a dead thing against your body for a mile-long hike. No, we need to find an alternative.”
Kyle unshouldered his backpack and placed it on the ground. He started to unpack some of the things inside.
“Well, I can carry my canteen on my belt. The knife can go right here inside my boot, and—”
“You’re not putting dead things inside of your backpack. That’s disgusting.”
Her son straightened at her suddenly sharp tone. “How are we going to get them home, then? If we can’t carry them and we can’t put them in our backpacks, what then?”
He wasn’t wrong to be frustrated. Liz peered into his open pack. She reached inside and took out a bundle of twine used for pitching a tent.
“I have a solution.” She grinned at him. “Have you ever seen those old jungle movies?”
“What, like Jumanji?”
“That’s not an old—okay, maybe it is, but that’s not what I’m—” Liz sighed and rubbed her eyes. “Never mind. Go find a branch about six feet long or so.”
“Six feet?” He cocked his head to the side. “That’s as tall as Dad.”
“Then you have a good estimate. Go find one.”
“Sure thing.” He shouldered his rifle and eagerly went off in search of an appropriately sized fallen branch. Liz cut three lengths of twine from the roll, about four feet long each. She knelt next to the fallen rabbits and tied the hind legs of each one to a length of twine.
“Here.” Kyle crashed out of the underbrush with a slightly crooked branch about half as thick as her wrist.
“That’s the right length, but it needs to be a little thicker, less brittle.”
He made a frustrated grunt but dutifully went off in search of another staff. The second one he brought back was a better fit for the task at hand.
Once the rabbits were secure, they began the hike back to the cabin. Each bore one end of the stick over their shoulder. The rabbits hung from the middle of the stick, swaying on the ends of their respective lines, far away from skin or clothing.
“This is kind of fun,” Kyle said.
“Yes, I suppose it is.” She chuckled. “The mighty hunters returning from a successful safari.”
“Do you think anybody heard those shots?” There was trepidation in her son’s tone. “I mean, you think they’ll come looking for us?”
“I don’t know.” Liz wished she could say something more reassuring. “We’re doing the right thing in heading back home.”
“Hey, you called the cabin ‘home’.” His voice held a note of triumph. “Are you finally getting used to things now?”
She pursed her lips as she carefully chose her answer. “Well, we’re alive and we’re together, or we will be when we find Sierra. I know I should be grateful for that when so many people have died or had their loved ones die. But I miss a lot of things.”
“What kinds of things?”
“Hmm. I suppose I miss smoothies at the pier after church. And popcorn at the movies.”
“And movies.”
“Yes.” She laughed. “And movies, too.”
“You remember that time we went to one of the Star Wars movies, the one nobody liked? And you told me not to eat a whole box of candy, but I did it anyway and got really sick and puked in the car on the way home?”
“Yes, I remember. I wish I didn’t.” They enjoyed a laugh together before she continued. “What else do you miss?”
“I don’t know. Hanging out with my friends, I guess. Maybe video games. But in a way, this whole after-the-bomb world is like a game, only it’s real now.”
“Don’t ever say that.” Liz stopped and turned around. She held the staff away from her body. The rabbits dipped toward the snowy ground. “This isn’t a game. You don’t have extra lives. Just one. Understand?”
“I understand.” His face fell.
Liz hated that she’d had to hurt his feelings, but parenting was hard sometimes.
As they continued their journey back to the cabin, she stayed on heightened alert. The cultists had to have heard the gunshots. They could be headed in this direction right now. She wouldn’t feel safe until she got back home.
11
Present Day …
Luke shifted Sierra’s dead body on his shoulder, careful not to drop her. He stood next to Derek just outside the dark entrance to the fallout shelter Derek had discovered. Luke couldn’t believe it. An intact, fully functional, well-stocked fallout shelter, a relic from the Cold War, was a godsend. It was almost too good to be true. But it wasn’t worth Sierra’s life.
“How did you find this?” Luke’s voice seemed hollow, devoid of the joy he should have felt in this moment.
“I heard rumors about it during my time in the service.” Derek held a ball of snow up to his swollen face. He seemed to be favoring his shoulder. “My dad told me about it a long time ago. I wasn’t sure it existed, but I finally found it.”
“Now I know where you’ve been sneaking off to.” Luke glared at Derek. “How long have you known about this? And don’t lie to me.”
Derek opened his mouth, closed it, then shook his head as if in self-admonishment. “Days.”
“Days.” A snarl twitched at Luke’s lips. “About the same time Sierra went missing?”
Derek’s jaw worked, but he remained silent. He couldn’t quite meet Luke’s gaze, and when he happened to glance at Sierra’s shrouded form, he wilted.
Luke narrowed his gaze. Obviously, Derek still wasn’t telling him everything. He was more involved in Sierra’s disappearance than he let on. But did he kill her? Or was it the cult member?
Luke’s gut instinct said no. As far as he knew, Derek had been trustworthy up until this point. Liz was a good judge of character, and she was happy to have Derek around. Unfortunately, Luke didn’t know him well enough to trust him. Not yet.
“We’ll talk about this later.” Luke’s tone held an edge. He wasn’t about to hide his skepticism. “Right now, we need to take Sierra home. We need to get back to the cabin and get the rest of the family. We’re moving them here.”
He half expected a debate, but Derek simply sighed. He nodded grimly.
“You’re right. This is the most fortified position and far more suited to wait out the winter than a cabin,” Derek said.
“Were you planning on telling me about this place?”
“Yes. Eventually.
”
“Eventually.” Luke shook his head. “I want to trust you, man, I do. But you’re sure as hell not making it easy.”
“I didn’t kill her. I swear I didn’t hurt her at all.”
“How did you end up together?”
“She followed me.”
“To the shelter?” Luke asked.
“Yeah. I didn’t know she was trailing me.” Derek laughed and shook his head. “Of all the people, I would have expected to hear her. She must have finally listened to you.”
“She didn’t listen to a damn thing I said if she ended up here with you.”
“I guess not.”
Luke turned toward the woods. How was he to tell Liz?
“Don’t you want to see the inside before we go?” Derek asked,
“No.” Luke needed to bury Sierra first. If this place was worth getting killed over, then it had to be good. He didn’t need to look to confirm it. He could always circle back later and check it out alone.
After a moment, Derek’s footsteps crunched through the snow behind him. It may have been a bad idea to turn his back on a potential enemy, but right now Luke could barely hold himself together. All he could think of was how he had failed as a parent. His child was dead.
Before the bomb, Sierra was a bit quarrelsome and flighty, perhaps even annoying. Now he hated himself for all the times he wished she’d go away.
Worse, he could also remember a time when Sierra was different. Sweet, caring, and bookish. He recalled her first-grade class Halloween party when she’d insisted on a ninja princess costume. Two discount store outfits and a little bit of sewing by Liz later, and they’d created the finest in shadow assassin monarch regalia. She’d won first prize, and hadn’t they all been so proud as a family?
When Liz got pregnant with Kyle, they placed a highchair with a teddy bear in the seat at the dining room table. The idea came from some parenting magazine Liz read. It was supposed to help get the elder child used to the idea of a baby.
But Sierra threw a fit, knocked over the highchair, and attacked the teddy bear because it stole “her” seat and “her” spot at the table. That was a mess.