by A. J. Powers
“Okay,” Kelsey said as she walked over to the fridge and fetched a few more eggs. “Hopefully I’ll actually be able to have your breakfast ready by the time you get back,” she said with a renewed joy in her voice.
Clay made his way to the door, but paused as he reached for the handle. He turned around and looked at Kelsey. “I know I’ve been gone a lot lately,” he started, “and I’m sorry for that. I still have a few things I’ll need to take care of later this month—none of which should be more than a few days at a time—I promise, Kels, I’m going to be home a lot more from now on.”
Kelsey smiled at the sincerity in Clay’s voice. “Well, I certainly wouldn’t complain about that,” she said with a flirtatious voice. “I do like having my husband around from time to time.”
“All right,” Clay said as he waved a lazy goodbye, “back in a few,” he said and walked out the door.
Clay walked to the main house and upon entering, was greeted by Courtney, one of the only children in the house who managed to dodge the virus thus far. She was on her way out the door to hang some laundry to dry—the downside to staying healthy when everyone else was sick was the added workload; something Clay was all too familiar with.
Expecting Megan to be in the infirmary studying, Clay went to the master bedroom on the first floor, but much to his surprise, he found the room empty. Staying quiet as best as he could, Clay made his way up the creaky steps and down the hall to Megan’s bedroom. He lightly knocked.
After a few seconds passed, he heard a groggy response. “Huh?”
“It’s Clay.”
Soon after, unsteady footsteps approached the other side of the door. The door opened and Megan flashed a smile before hugging Clay. “Good to see you little brother,” she said as she stepped back and stretched.
“You look terrible,” Clay said.
“You’re quite the charmer, Clay. I can see why Kelsey fell for you.”
If it had been anybody else, Clay might have felt bad over his choice of words, but Megan was never one to put much stock in looks—certainly not in the last ten years. She looked exhausted, though, even for a woman who constantly pushed herself harder than she should. “Sounds like it was a rough night,” Clay said.
“Yeah, it was,” Megan said as she fought through a yawn. “What time is it?”
Glancing at his watch, Clay answered. “Almost eight.”
“Ah, yes, forty-five minutes ought to be enough sleep to get through the day,” she tried to say sarcastically, but her weary tone failed to deliver.
“Well,” Clay said, “Kelsey burned her finger on a pan. I just wanted to get an ointment or something from you and then I’ll let you get back to sleep,” he paused for a moment. “Sorry for waking you.”
In the middle of another yawn, Megan waved him off. “It’s fine, Clayton. I need to go check on Maya’s fever anyway,” she said as she headed toward the door. Clay followed her down the stairs and on into the infirmary. “Maya spiked to nearly one-oh-five last night. I actually took her outside into the rain to cool her down.” Megan sifted through a box of oils and canisters with different blends. “That was about as unpleasant a fifteen minutes as I think I’ve spent in years.”
Clay felt badly for his big sister. In the last three years, it felt as if everyone had changed, but Megan was still the same old Megan. Always giving so much of her time to others that she never had any for herself. Clay wasn’t the only one worried all the stress and lack of sleep would eventually catch up to her one day, but such was the nature of Megan, and she couldn’t be persuaded by anyone on the farm to care for herself from time to time. Stubbornness was the cornerstone of the Whitaker bloodline.
Frazzled and unable to find what she was looking for, Megan walked to the other side of the room and rummaged through a different box. “Here it is,” she said as she pulled a small mason jar out of the box. “It’s peppermint and Aloe Vera. Putting this on should help with the pain and then in a couple of hours have her apply a bit of lavender,” she said.
“Got it,” Clay said and thanked her for the ointment. “You going to be okay?” he asked. “You seriously look like you’re about to keel over.”
“Yep,” she said as she grabbed her medical bag and headed out the door. “I’ve gotten two, maybe three good days of sleep since the world ended, what’s another night going to hurt?” she said with a faint smile as she walked over to the stairs.
Back at home, Clay repeated Megan’s instructions for applying the ointment and Kelsey noticed the cooling sensation take effect almost immediately. “This stuff is amazing,” she said. “Hard to believe so few people relied on it back when we were growing up.”
Clay shrugged.
Breakfast was cooked to perfection; a fancy bistro couldn’t have prepared it any better. Clay savored each bite of egg so he could enjoy his first legitimate meal in nearly two weeks. It made him all the more aware of just how much he hated to leave home, even though it was something he did frequently. Dry clothes, a warm bed; creature comforts such as books and music—Paige was becoming quite the pianist—tending to the crops and livestock—all things Clay missed while he was out for days or weeks at a time. But all those things paled in comparison to what he missed most: his family. In Clay’s mind, there was no better way to start a day than waking up to Kelsey’s beautiful smile. But the dwindling supply of goods and necessities on the farm demanded he and the others continued on their expeditions from time to time. Even if it meant sleeping in a bathtub inside a Screamer lair.
Chapter 11
“Hand me that wrench, would ya?” Levi asked.
Clay grabbed the rusty tool sitting on top of a toolbox and handed it to Levi, who promptly put it to use. Clay was helping Levi with the second wagon, which was on the verge of being road-worthy. Clay was not much of a handyman so he appreciated the opportunity to learn a few things. Back when they lived in the tower, he was forced to repair critical items whenever they broke, but his lack of skill was always evident in the hack-job type repairs. He was a bit more competent fixing electronics, or to a lesser extent, firearms, but Clay was a novice when it came to carpentry and general construction. Since he was away while the first wagon had been restored, he volunteered to help with the second.
It was nearly noon, but the heavy clouds blanketing the sky provided little light for them to work. The interior lights helped, but Clay found himself bouncing between the three dynamo lanterns to keep the work area bright enough for them to see what they were doing.
“Okay,” Levi said as he crouched down next to the rear axle and applied some grease. “You really wanna slather this stuff on there—keep everything moving smoothly.”
“Makes sense,” Clay acknowledged. Levi used fat they had rendered from a hog they ate for dinner last week. The smell wasn’t particularly pleasant, but finding a commercially made grease was not a simple task anymore—improvising was just a way of life and the pig fat seemed to work quite well.
Clay and Levi picked up the heavy wagon wheel and slid it onto the axel. Clay then secured the second wheel to the wagon, applying what he had learned from Levi’s example with the first one. Grabbing one of the spokes, Clay gave it a good spin.
“Like butter,” Levi commented as he observed the wheel’s rotation. Everything was working perfectly. “Okay, two down, two more to go. After that, just a few more odds and ends and she’ll be ready for the Oregon Trail.”
Clay smiled at the historical reference; he enjoyed having a few older guys on the farm. Not just so he could learn from them, but also so he could talk to them about life before the eruptions—something most of the kids could barely remember, if they were even alive at the time. The men contributed much more than just conversation, as well. Levi, Michael, and Geoff’s input, knowledge, and experience alleviated much of the burden that Clay had been forced to bear for so many years. Even though Clay was still viewed as the unofficial leader of the community, it helped that most of the of the time they were
all on the same page—disagreements were few and far between. It was nice that he didn’t always have to shoulder the entire weight of the responsibility anymore. Clay was free to have a sick day occasionally, and he wasn’t the one who had to make every little decision for the group. As he helped Levi finish up the wagon, Clay realized just how much he appreciated the other men on the farm with him.
Clay and Levi turned as they heard the shop door open. Megan headed toward them with a plate of food: ham and egg on wheat. “I thought you boys might be hungry,” she said as she put the plate in front of them.
“Oh, yeah!” Levi said excitedly, reaching for the sandwich. “Thanks! Been out here since sunrise, didn’t get a chance to eat breakfast.”
Clay looked down at the plate then up at Megan. “Thanks, sis,” he said as he grabbed his.
“You’re welcome.” She looked over at Levi, who was already scarfing the sandwich down. She chuckled at the piece of egg dangling out of the corner of his mouth. “You have a little something…” she said as she scratched the corner of her lip.
“Oh,” Levi said with an embarrassed look on his face before pushing the leftover bite into his mouth. “Mmmmm. This really hit the spot,” he added, giving her an adoring look that was not as subtle as he might have hoped.
Clay swallowed his bite and added, “Eh, could’ve used some mayo.”
Megan let Clay know what she thought of his comment with a slug to the shoulder. “Tell you what, little brother, next time you can make your own lunch,” she said while giving him a sarcastic glare. “Speaking of making food,” she said as she held out a small cloth, “Bev and I took a stab at some cheese last night. It’s not exactly a sharp cheddar, but I think it turned out pretty well.”
In shock, Clay snatched the bag from Megan and opened it up. Like two kids wrestling over Halloween candy, Levi’s hand ended up inside the bag while Clay was still trying to fish out his own piece. Moments later, both men were chewing. The last time Clay had eaten cheese—or a bucket full of chemicals claiming to be—was from an MRE several years past its prime.
“Okay, well don’t kill each other over it. We’re still figuring things out, but there will be plenty more where that came from,” Megan said. She looked up at the wagon, seeing the progress for the first time and added, “It’s starting to look like a wagon.” She turned her attention to Clay. “Will it be ready in time for us to go to Liberty’s festival?”
Clay deferred to Levi, who nodded and mumbled through a mouth full of cheese. “Mmmm-hmmm.”
“Yay!” Megan exclaimed.
Getting everyone to the Liberty in a single trip with just one wagon would have been impossible, but the second wagon solved that problem, allowing everyone to go. Michael and Hawthorne elected to stay behind to take care of chores around the farm while everyone else was gone. No one was surprised by that news; Michael didn’t care to be surrounded by a bunch of people he had never met and Hawthorne preferred the comfort of her own bed—traveling two or more days there and then back didn’t sound all that appealing.
“I can’t wait to go; it’s going to be so much fun!” Megan added, smiling toward Levi. “All right, I’ll let you guys get back to it. Great job on the wagons, Levi.”
Levi’s cheeks reddened as he smiled at the compliment. His eyes remained fixed on Megan until the door closed behind her, a gesture that did not go unnoticed by Clay.
“So, when are you going to tell her?” Clay asked.
“Tell her what?” Levi replied, his voice cracked.
“Tell her what?” Clay said mockingly as he took another bite of his sandwich. “Tell Megan you’re in love with her.” Bread crumbs flew from his mouth.
“Uhm, what? I don’t…” Levi stammered before conceding. “Is it that obvious?”
Clay’s eyes got big and he made a funny face while he nodded.
“Oh,” Levi said as he took a sip of water.
“And, if you haven’t noticed, Megan seems to enjoy being around you, too. I mean she pretty much never brings me food anymore unless we’re working on something together.”
Levi blushed even more, not just because of what Clay said, but the fact that Clay was the one who said it. Talking to anyone about his feelings for Megan would have been uncomfortable, but talking to her protective, albeit younger, brother made Levi feel queasy. “I-I-I don’t know, Clay.”
Clay started to feel awkward for his friend. He was a very outgoing, social guy, but when it came to Megan, he adopted a shy, nervous demeanor. “Just saying, man. I’m not in the business of finding boyfriends for my sister, but the way you two stare at each other… the way you’re always doing things for each other… seems like you guys are already a couple. It’s just that neither one of you are aware of it.”
Levi didn’t respond and there was an uncomfortable silence as both men finished their meals.
“Uhm, well, would you mind?” Levi asked Clay.
Even though he was embarrassed for Levi, Clay couldn’t pass up the chance to make Levi spell it out. “Would I mind what?”
“Would you mind if I, uh, pursued Megan?”
Clay made a funny face with the archaic word choice. “Uhm, if by ‘pursue’ you mean ask her out then no, I don’t mind. Megan is a big girl, she can make her own decisions. Just know that the brotherly rules still apply. If you break her heart, I am contractually obligated to inflict a substantial amount of pain on you,” Clay said with a grin.
Levi returned the smile. Though he was thirty-one, he had never really been involved in a relationship before. He had met a girl in college that he was interested in, but Yellowstone erupted during summer break. Levi lived in Bryan, Texas at the time, and Abigail lived just outside of Pocatello, Idaho—a short drive from the heart of the volcanic crater. Though he hoped he was wrong, Levi knew she didn’t survive the eruption. And even if she was still alive, he figured he had a better shot of going surfing down in Rockport next week than seeing her ever again.
After his parents died during a home invasion at the apex of the civil unrest, Levi packed up his old Ford pickup with everything he could cram inside it and headed for Northfield to stay with his Uncle Cliff and Aunt Melissa. No sooner than when he pulled into the Metzger’s long, gravely driveway, did Levi’s truck run out of gas. Cliff, Michael, and Luke had to help Levi push it the rest of the way to the house so they could unload what he had brought. Since then, his mind had been too preoccupied with surviving than to chase after a girl. However, once Megan and the family arrived on the farm a little over three years ago, he constantly found himself thinking of her, but lacked the courage to tell her about his feelings. Even after asking for Clay’s permission, he was still unsure if he would say anything. “I was thinking about talking to her during the fall festival.”
Clay crouched down and started winding up the lanterns again. “That’s several weeks away, why wait?”
Because I’m a chicken, Levi thought, but he delivered a better line to Clay. “I think it will be more romantic to do it there. Plus, hopefully with all the activities they have planned for the kids, she might actually have a few minutes free for me to talk to her alone,” he said.
Clay shrugged. “That’s fair enough. The ball’s in your court,” he said as he folded his hands and gave a slight bow toward Levi. “You officially have my blessing.”
“Thanks,” Levi replied. “All right, enough chit-chat,” Levi said, confidence restored in his voice. “Time to get back to work.”
Clay and Levi put in a few more hours on the wagon before exhaustion set in. Accomplishing more than he had expected, Levi called it a day. They worked quickly to put the tools away and clean up the mess they had made. As Clay put the last of the tools away, Levi flipped the lights off and waited by the door.
“You go on,” Clay said, “I have to grab a few things from the armory, so I’ll lock up when I’m done.”
“All right,” Levi said, “have a safe trip.”
Clay unlocked the door to the
armory and walked inside. He opened the safe closest to the door and grabbed his Scout as well as a .270. He opened a cabinet near the reloading bench and fished out what was left of the .308 ammo—just a box and a half. It had been almost two years since Clay had acquired a bullet in that caliber, so he usually only used it to hunt bigger game like black bear or the moose that had started showing up a few years after the eruptions. Clay thought he was hallucinating the first time he saw a moose that far south, but after thinking about it a little bit, it made sense. Texas, post-eruption, was probably not all that different than pre-eruption Wyoming—as far as weather went anyway. Though he had only seen a handful of moose over the years—and only killed just the one—the Scout was the most suitable rifle for the job.
Clay reached into a bucket and grabbed a handful of .270 cartridges. Except for 7.62x39, they had more .270 than any other cartridge, sitting just a hair under 800 rounds—the benefits of living in a state with a lot of hunters.
Clay quickly went through a mental checklist to make sure he didn’t need anything else before he locked up. Nothing came to mind, so he picked up the rifles and headed out.
Once back home, Clay packed for the hunting trip he and Blake were leaving for in the morning. As was the ritual before heading out for more than a couple of days, Clay emptied his backpack onto the table and inspected every item; this time he remembered to check inside his med kit to see what was needed. The only thing lacking was the ibuprofen. He quickly remedied that, but noticed his reserves were getting a bit low.
After resupplying the medicine and adding some additional items that were essential for longer journeys, Clay zipped up his pack and headed back outside. It was getting late, and he had every intention of leaving before dawn. Waking up before the sun was not a new concept for Clay—Blake on the other hand…
After a quick scan outside, Clay headed to Megan’s place. As expected, Blake was with Lona in the den—one of the only rooms that was off limits to the younger children.