by Alex Gunwick
At that moment, he’d left childhood behind. He’d become a man and a legitimate threat. Those cultists would be pissing themselves if they knew he was coming.
If his family was too chicken to do what had to be done, then it fell upon him. He would show his father and Derek and his mother that he wasn’t a little kid anymore. He would show them he belonged in the discussions, the debates, and the decisions. They’d stop thinking of him as just a little kid. They’d see him as their equal.
Kyle’s father had shown him the game trail that led to the cultists’ cabin. His mom was right, it was kill or be killed, and he didn’t want to end up like his sister. The look of horror on her frozen face would haunt him for the rest of his life. He never wanted to look like that. He was a predator now, and he had to behave like one.
When he judged himself to be close to the COB’s cabin, he ditched the trail and instead took a parallel path through the woods. It was slow going with all the underbrush and thickly clumped trees in his way. Not only that, but Kyle had to move silently in case the cult had sentries. Dad said you always had to watch out for sentries.
He caught his first glimpse of the cabin. His heart pounded. With his goal in sight, he became increasingly paranoid about discovery. His father had taught him that breathing through the mouth was quieter than through the nose. Kyle opened his mouth as he picked his way through the woods, stepping on bare ground or live growth to mask the sound of his footsteps.
He stopped when he reached the clearing. Twenty feet of exposure lay between him and the nearest cabin window. Twenty feet of risk. For a moment, he almost lost his nerve and turned around. The cabin seemed deserted, anyway. Then a flash of movement from inside caught his attention. He clenched his jaw and crept out from the tree line.
His heart pounded harder and harder until he feared it would burst out of his chest. His mouth went dry. The gun felt like a lead weight dragging him down. It seemed to take forever to cross the open ground between the forest and the cabin.
When he reached the window, he glanced inside. A middle-aged man puttered around the living room. His right hand held an open bottle of beer, and his left index finger was buried in his nose. The man let out a revolting belch. The man pulled back his finger and stared at the green booger he’d excavated from his nostril. For a moment, he glanced around as if searching for a place to wipe it. He smeared it across the stone fireplace.
Kyle was disgusted beyond measure. This was one of the men who’d killed his sister. Maybe he hadn’t pulled the trigger, but in Kyle’s mind, they were one and the same.
Kyle took a step back from the window and pulled the rifle off his shoulder. Smoothly, he brought it up and sighted down the scope. The man took a swig of beer and set the bottle down to stand with a wide-legged stance in front of the fire.
Kyle realized he was about to pee into the fire. The guy was too lazy to go down the hall to the bathroom, if they had one, or too afraid of the darkness to go outside.
Without an ounce of mercy or hesitation, Kyle lined up his sights on the back of the man’s head and pulled the trigger.
Glass broke, a sharp retort cracked in the frigid mountain air. The man collapsed into a heap on the floor. Kyle took a moment to take in the sight of his crumpled, lifeless form before he shouldered his rifle and calmly, but hastily, made his way back toward the cabin.
13
As Luke stared at the crackling fireplace, his mind drifted to dark places. The conversation carried on around him in the den, but he barely paid attention to it. Part of him wondered if he should tell the others about Derek’s involvement, however inadvertent, in Sierra’s death, but Luke realized that would simply be using him as a scapegoat. If he were to punish anyone, it should be himself. Because of his negligence, Sierra was dead. There was no way to rectify his error, no chance of making things right. While the cultists had done the actual deed, ultimately, it was his responsibility to protect his children from outside threats.
The conversation died down. The others seemed lost in their own thoughts. Liz stared at the fire. She sat on the couch, rocking herself slowly. Her lips occasionally moved, but no sound came out.
Edwin sat in a chair next to his wife and held her hand while they spoke softly. They glanced at him but quickly looked away.
Derek, despite his injury, constantly paced. Luke got the impression the man fought to hold himself back from charging down the mountain to attack the cultists. He seemed almost as distraught as everyone else.
Luke felt like he had been gutted with a rusty sewage pipe. Grief came in waves. One minute he was sad and heartbroken, yet functional, and the next, he was an emotional wreck. He struggled to get past his emotions. He needed to think.
He glanced at the bedroom door. He hadn’t heard a peep out of Kyle since he’d locked himself in there well over an hour ago. Luke was concerned about his son. Beyond his obvious sorrow, there’d been a hard glint in his son’s eyes. He needed to talk to Kyle before his soul turned as hard and cold as Luke’s.
Luke stalked across the room without a word. The others stayed silent as he strode up to Kyle’s door and knocked on it lightly.
He waited a moment. When there was no answer, he knocked harder. He pushed the door open a crack and peered inside.
“Are you asleep?” Luke’s eyes landed on the empty bed. He shoved the door open. His gaze darted all around the small chamber, but he quickly determined Kyle wasn’t present.
“What’s wrong?” Liz asked, coming up behind him.
Luke turned to his wife and tried to keep the anxiety out of his voice. “Kyle’s not here.”
“What?” Liz pushed past Luke and walked into the empty room. “Oh, my God.” She ran to the coat rack and started to bundle up to go out into the cold. “We have to find him.”
“I’ll go. You stay in case he comes back. I’ll bring a walkie with me.” Luke put a restraining hand on her shoulder.
“How’d that work out last time?” Liz asked bitterly.
“Maybe he went outside for a walk.” Edwin rose to his feet and stretched. “You know, to clear his head?”
Luke sighed and rubbed his eyes. “I’d like to think that, but his rifle is missing.”
“Oh, God.” The color drained from Liz’s face. “You don’t think he’s going after the cult, do you?”
Her question hung in the air for a long moment while Luke donned his jacket.
“I’ll go look for him,” he said.
“I’m coming with you. He’s my son, too.”
Derek picked up his rifle from the wall rack and checked the chamber. “I’m coming as well.”
“No.” Luke shook his head. His lips formed a thin, tight line. “We don’t need three of our fighting adults away from the cabin for any length of time. I’m his father. I taught him how to move and survive in the woods. I have the best chance of finding him because I know how he thinks.”
Liz opened her mouth to protest, but Luke held up his hand.
“Someone needs to stay here.” He took her hands in both of his own and faced her solemnly. “If Kyle comes back, there should be someone here to wait with him until I return. We don’t want him coming back to an empty cabin like Sierra did.”
Liz pursed her lips, then nodded, obviously torn. Derek stepped up to stand beside them.
“Are you sure you don’t want me to come along?”
“Yes.” Luke’s voice was full of ice. “I’m dead sure I don’t want you to come along.”
As he walked out into the snow, he bundled himself tightly against the chill. His legs still ached from when he’d had to carry Sierra back to the fallout shelter. But he refused to allow pain to slow him down.
His son was the only child he had left. Fortunately, Luke had a decent idea where the boy was headed—the cabin where he’d spotted the chilling sermon by the new cult leader.
What if Kyle was already dead? What if Luke was too late to save him like he had been with Sierra?
Luke
sped up. He didn’t quite break into a run, but he moved far more quickly than the terrain safely allowed. After a few jarring steps where he connected with hidden stones, he begrudgingly slowed his pace a little.
He found the game trail that meandered up the mountainside. Following it, he searched for any sign of Kyle. With every passing second, his anxiety grew. He had to find his son alive, or he may as well never return home. Liz would kill him for failing her a second time.
Eventually, he found shallow footprints in the snow. He placed his foot next to the tracks. They were about Kyle’s size. His heart skipped as he hurried along the trail of small boot prints.
The absolute darkness in the forest hampered his journey. He’d been tempted to use a flashlight, but with a night this black, it would make him far too easy to spot. He was grateful when the clouds parted enough to allow the crescent moon to spill its silvery light across the landscape.
The going was still painfully slow, but he was able to move slightly faster. His training kicked in and kept him calm enough to not descend into utter panic. The analytical side of his mind told him not to rush off half-cocked into the cultist’s territory.
Dark branches hung over the trail. A thin one he didn’t spot in time smacked him in the face. He growled and held his hands up to protect his eyes. This path used to fill him with a sense of peace, but now it was like walking through a nightmare.
Suddenly, a single shot rang out from less than a mile away. The echo reverberated against the mountain.
Luke broke into a run. His mind raced through every worst-case scenario.
Not again. Please, God, not again. Don’t take both my kids from me on the same day.
He rounded a bend in the trail and nearly plowed right into Kyle. The boy’s grim yet smug smile drained from his face as he stood there, rifle slung casually over his shoulder. He looked up at his father with wide eyes.
Luke’s relief nearly overwhelmed him. He wanted to grab his son and hold him tight, but he was still angry enough to fight the urge.
“What the hell are you doing?” Luke demanded.
“I’m taking care of business.” Kyle glanced over his shoulder and shrugged with cool nonchalance. “You can cross one cultist off the list. I got him.”
“Are you out of your mind?” Luke kept his voice low. He didn’t want to attract any attention if the cultists were nearby. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be furious at his son. “How could you run off like that? Don’t you know what you’re putting your mother through? What you’re putting me through? Your sister hasn’t even been laid to rest, and you’re out here being stupid!”
“I’m s—sorry,” Kyle stammered as sweat broke out on his face.
“Shut your mouth.” Luke shoved Kyle roughly on the shoulder. “Do you really think you’re capable of taking them on alone? It’s a fool’s mission. I thought I taught you better. Apparently not!”
“But I was careful. I snuck up on him like you taught me. I only needed one shot. Bam, right in the back of the head, execution style.”
“Execution style?” Luke’s voice broke as he strained not to scream. “Execution style? This isn’t a fucking game or a gangster movie. This is real life. You got lucky. You could just as easily be dead right now.”
Luke suddenly seized his son in a fierce embrace and held him so tight Kyle squeaked.
“We’ve got to get the hell out of here,” Luke said.
“We should—”
“Not another word. Not until we get back to the cabin,” Luke snapped.
He dragged the boy down the trail by the arm while muttering curses furiously under his breath.
Liz sat in the chair facing the cabin’s large picture window. A semi-automatic rifle lay across her lap. She rocked steadily, unable to do anything but wait and worry.
Behind her, Derek shifted in his seat, obviously uncomfortable with the tension in the cabin. Liz understood. The anxiety was palpable and weighed down the very air inside the normally cheery home.
She tried to avoid thinking up worst-case scenarios. Luke would find Kyle. He would bring him back home safe. He had to. Without her kids, there was nothing worth living for anymore. Luke would feel the same way. If there was nothing to look forward to, why would she fight to survive this ruined world? It would be utterly pointless.
How long would it be before she found out Kyle’s fate? Would it take another three days, like Sierra? Would she be just as helpless to do anything about it?
She wasn’t just worried about her son. Her husband was out there too. He could run into the cult. They’d kill him on sight. She did not doubt that possibility. If she lost her entire family on the same day, it would be more than she could bear. She’d have to end things because there would be absolutely no reason to live.
Liz adjusted the rifle in her lap. She gazed out the window at the night sky. In a few hours, it would be dawn. If Luke and Kyle didn’t make it back to the cabin by then, she would search for them herself. She’d take Derek. She’d listened to his story about Sierra with some skepticism at first, but ultimately, she believed him. She had to trust her gut. Having him as backup would be better than nothing.
A gunshot echoed through the night. She jumped to her feet and ran to the window.
“Did you hear that?”
“Yeah,” Derek said.
“We should go out there.”
“We don’t know what we’re walking into. It might not be related to Kyle’s disappearance.”
“Or he might be wounded and dying!”
“Liz!” Derek grabbed her shoulder to stop her from reaching the door. “I want to run out there, too. I do. But we can’t leave the house. If Kyle comes back and we’re not here, he could make the same mistake Sierra made. If she’d waited for you guys, I might have died, but she wouldn’t have. Leaving now is too dangerous for us and for Kyle.”
“I can’t just stand here doing nothing.”
“Shit!” Derek ran his hand through his hair.
“If they’re not back in ten minutes, I’m going out there. You can stay,” she said.
“No. It’s not worth the risk.”
“What the hell do you know about risk? You don’t have a family. You have nothing to lose.”
“I have everything to—” Derek jerked his head toward the window. “Did you see that?”
“What?” Liz peered outside but didn’t see anything.
“I thought I saw—There, just inside the tree line.”
“Two people.” She readied her rifle and aimed.
“Wait.” Derek grabbed the barrel and pointed it toward the floor. “One of them looks like a kid. It’s probably Kyle and Luke.”
As the figures ran across the open area, Liz nearly collapsed with relief. Moonlight illuminated Kyle and Luke’s faces. She didn’t have her coat on, but she didn’t care. She dashed into the snowy night and threw her arms around her son.
“It’s okay. I’m fine,” Kyle said.
His nonchalance set off her anger. She thrust him out at arm’s length and gave him a furious shake.
“How could you be so stupid?”
“I wanted to help. You guys were arguing about what to do, but I knew what we needed to do. We needed to kill the cult members. We need to kill them. I’m sick of worrying about them. We can’t stay here if they’re out there. And they killed Sierra. They have to pay for what they did to her.”
“You could have been killed. You can’t do stupid shit like that, Kyle!”
“I’m sorry, mom.” Kyle hugged her. “I just wanted to help.”
“Come on.” Luke wrapped an arm around each of them. “Let’s get back inside. I don’t think we were followed, but I don’t know for sure.”
Liz couldn’t let go of her fury. As much as she wanted to stay angry at Kyle, she couldn’t. He was right. They couldn’t coexist with the Children of the Bomb. They’d have to kill them all if they wanted to survive winter.
14
Early the followi
ng day, the Wrights, Derek, and what remained of Liz’s family gathered in the chilly air to lay Sierra to rest. Edwin read a few passages from his Bible. Liz tried to focus on them, but the words were meaningless platitudes that did nothing to assuage the pain in her heart. She leaned heavily against Luke and occasionally sniffled as the service continued. Kyle clung to her hand. He remained silent even as tears ran down his face.
“He will wipe every tear from their eyes. There will be no more death, or mourning, or crying, or pain, for the old order of things has passed away.” Edwin’s voice had a slight tremble, though Liz wasn’t sure if it was from grief, the cold, or some combination of the two. “So do not fear, for I am with you; do not be dismayed, for I am your God. I will strengthen you and help you; I will uphold you with my righteous right hand.”
Edwin’s shaky hands turned the thin pages of the tome he held. He cleared his throat and continued.
“When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze.”
Several folks spoke “amen” at the end of the sermon, but Liz couldn’t bring herself to do so. Burying her child seemed so wrong. What loving and kind God would visit such suffering upon her family? What had they ever done to deserve his wrath?
Liz and Luke continued to hold each other as the others gradually meandered away from Sierra’s grave. She couldn’t stop staring at the disrupted earth. She tried clinging to denial but couldn’t. Her daughter was dead. Liz would never see her again.
“We’re moving to the bunker. Just us and Derek,” Luke said softly.
She lifted her head from his shoulder and stared at him with tear-streaked eyes. “But what about the Wrights?”
“They’re not coming. Not right now. I like them, but they don’t have what it takes to protect the compound. They don’t want to fight the Children of the Bomb. We do. I don’t trust anyone but you, me, and Kyle. Derek found the place, so he’s coming too. The Wrights don’t know about the bunker, and you can’t tell them. You can’t tell any of the other families in the valley either. Not until we figure out what to do next.”