Darker Days

by A. J. Powers

  “All right, Romeo, it’s time to go,” Clay blurted out as he walked into the den.

  Blake and Lona both looked perplexed.

  “Romeo?” Blake asked.

  “I suppose they didn’t teach you Shakespeare in first grade…Never mind,” Clay sighed. “Anyway, I’m not sure you’re aware just how early four-thirty comes, so I think we should probably get home and hit the sack soon,” Clay said.

  “I’ll be there in a few minutes,” Blake replied.

  Clay debated whether he should give Blake enough rope to hang himself. He knew “a few minutes” really meant “I’ll be there in three or four more hours.” Being dog-tired on a long trip could be a valuable teaching moment for the teenager. If they were staying on the farm or close by, Clay would have just walked away, but he needed Blake to be prepared for the day-long hike ahead of them. Without saying a word, Clay folded his arms and leaned up against the doorway, which sparked a glare from Blake.

  “What are you doing?” Blake asked.

  “Nothing,” Clay said with a wry smile before adding, “Oh, don’t pay any attention to me…I’m not here.”

  “Fine!” Blake sighed with frustration. “Can you give me a minute to say bye? We’re going to be gone for a while, right?”

  “Make it quick,” Clay ordered before turning to leave the room.

  As he walked into the hallway, Clay heard Kelsey, Megan, and Hawthorne talking in the living room. Hawthorne, as always, was knitting while Kelsey and Megan had their feet propped up on the coffee table, recovering from a long day.

  “Hey, baby,” Kelsey said as Clay walked into the room. “You all packed up?”

  “Yeah. Just gotta drag Justin Bieber out of the den and then we’ll be heading to bed.”

  Kelsey chuckled, Megan rolled her eyes, and Hawthorne looked nearly as confused as Blake and Lona had been with the Romeo comment. Clay was on a roll.

  Kelsey groaned as she got off the couch and walked over to Clay. She gave him a quick kiss and she wrapped her arms around him. “You two be safe out there. I hate that you’re going to be gone again,” she paused for a moment and looked into his eyes, “but I think it’s really good that you’re doing this with him,” she said.

  “I’m excited about it, too, actually. It’ll be nice to do some hunting without the never-ending pissing match between Dusty and Geoff.”

  “I heard that,” Dusty yelled dryly from upstairs.

  “I figured as much, ya blonde-haired bat,” Clay replied.

  “Yeah, that was a good one,” Dusty fired back sarcastically.

  Clay turned around as he heard footsteps approach the living room. Blake stood at the threshold between the kitchen and living room, sulking. “All right, I’m ready,” he said.

  “About time,” Clay said with a smirk. He turned and looked over at Kelsey. “Love you, Kels,” he said before he kissed her again.

  “Love you, too. Be safe.”

  On their way back to the house, Clay said goodnight to Charles, Dakota, and Bethany, who were playing with Paige and Courtney.

  “Be good for Mama,” Clay said as he hoisted Charles up for a hug.

  Charles gave his typical response. “Mmmmhmmmm.”

  Clay and Blake grabbed a quick meal, then got the rest of their gear together, placing it all by the front door.

  “Why do we have to leave so early?” Blake asked dreadfully.

  “Because there’s really no good place to camp between here and there. Honestly, we should probably leave even earlier to make sure we get there with enough light left to settle in. In case you were wondering, it really sucks to be caught outside after dark,” Clay said sternly.

  “Okay, okay…I get it,” Blake replied in typical teenaged form.

  Clay put the last of their gear down by the door and looked it over—everything seemed to be there. “Okay,” he said as he turned to Blake. “There’s a blanket on the couch…” Clay said, pointing across the room.

  “Why can’t I sleep in my own bed tonight?

  “It’s just easier this way…” Clay said. “I’ll see you in a few hours.” He slapped Blake on the shoulder as he headed for the stairs.

  Chapter 12

  “How much further?” Blake asked with a whine in his voice.

  Clay looked down at his watch and did some math. Because they were walking through a large, open expanse of land, Clay used the time to approximate how far they had traveled in lieu of landmarks. “Should only be another hour or so.”

  A long-winded sigh came from the teenager who lagged behind. Blake was no stranger to physical activity—he worked as hard around the farm as anyone else—but his body wasn’t conditioned to handle a twenty-mile hike in a single day. The march was brutal even for an experienced traveler such as Clay, let alone for Blake. However, the fertile hunting grounds made the long journey worth every step, especially since wild game activity around Northfield had significantly diminished over the last year. Though his family probably wouldn’t starve with what they already had set aside for winter, Clay’s food stores were still on the light side. With the unexpected travels over the past few months and another lost week or so from the upcoming family trip to Liberty, Clay’s open window to fill his freezer was closing. He would have been on this trip regardless, but was happy to turn the necessary journey into an opportunity to spend some time with Blake.

  Of course, Clay had ulterior motives for the trip—teaching Blake the importance of having survival skills. Though it was far from an easy life, living on the farm provided a sense of security that Clay never felt back when they lived in the tower. The additional people and the remote location of the property always gave Clay an excuse to shirk his responsibility to teach such things to the boys. But now, for all intents and purposes, Blake had become a man. The world they lived in was no less dangerous than before. In fact, it was quite the opposite as food and supplies became increasingly more difficult to find. It was naïve to think they were untouchable on the farm. At a moment’s notice, the family could be forced to flee, becoming sojourners once again, looking for a place to call home. Any given day might also be Clay’s last—especially with the number of close calls he had experienced as of late. If that day ever came, Clay wanted Blake to be prepared to step up in his absence. More importantly, Blake needed to learn how to be a provider for his own family. Though he had not been very forthcoming about his feelings toward Lona, Clay saw the same twinkle in his eye that he had had when he met Kelsey—the boy was in love. And even though everyone on the farm helped one another out, it’s up to each household to provide for its own people. So, it was time to ensure Blake knew how to do such a thing. Yes, this trip was about bringing home some food, but it was going to be so much more—or that was Clay’s hope, anyway.

  “Why didn’t we take the horses again?” Blake asked, winded.

  “A little bit of walking won’t hurt us,” Clay said. Walking was just the beginning to Blake’s training. Clay had gone the first ten years of this disaster without a horse. After the gas ran out in his dad’s old pickup, Clay did all his traveling on foot. The horses were a nice luxury, but they were just that—a luxury. And such extravagances, especially now, didn’t last forever. “Besides,” Clay followed up. “I know Michael and Levi were planning to hit up a couple of neighboring towns for some scrap materials, so they need the horses more than us.”

  The hazy gray sky had darkened by the time they reached the little cul-de-sac. Though Clay had never encountered another soul there—never even heard a distant Screamer—as soon as they entered the neighborhood, he became much more alert and had his SKS slightly raised. Blake held the KSG-12, though a bit more relaxed than Clay. And each one had a hunting rifle slung over their backs.

  The neighborhood was nestled away from the main road, obscured by the hills and trees. The years of weather abuse combined with overgrowth made the turn-off nearly unnoticeable from the main road. It was an urban oasis, and should the day ever come when the family wo
uld be forced to leave Northfield, this would be at the top of a very brief list of alternatives.

  At the very end of the cul-de-sac was a nice two-story home. Towering trees that went on for miles provided a beautiful backdrop for the modern brick construction. Clay pointed toward the house. “That’s our home for the next few days,” he said quietly.

  Blake, excited to finally have the long journey behind him, smiled brightly. “Yes!”

  Clay didn’t want to stifle the young man’s excitement, but he held his finger up to his lips. “Shhhhh. We still need to clear the house,” Clay whispered.

  “Oh, right. Sorry,” Blake replied softly, reigning in his joy.

  “When you’re out in the wild, never let your guard down,” Clay said, nonchalantly sprinkling in survival tips where appropriate. He thought about the words he just spoke, realizing that he needed to be following his own advice more often than he was.

  They went around to the back of the house and walked beneath a second-floor deck that overlooked a steep grade of trees that eventually bottomed out at a creek about two hundred yards away.

  “Whoa,” Blake murmured as he took the sight in. Though there were hills and trees in Northfield, the young man had not seen anything quite like this before—not since the ash fell, anyway.

  Clay walked up to a sliding door—the glass pane was still intact. It had been unlocked when he found the place, so there was never a need to break the window. He looked over at Blake and signaled for him to get his shotgun ready. Blake complied. Wrenching the door to the side, Clay and Blake walked in and began clearing the house. Clay was confident nobody occupied the residence. The undisturbed decoy cans of food he had placed on the counter told him as much. Nevertheless, for the sake of due diligence as well as to teach Blake thoroughness, they cleared each room together.

  Once Clay was satisfied the house was empty, Blake immediately plopped himself down on a couch in the living room, causing a blast of dust to erupt in every direction. After a few coughs, he let out a sigh of relief. Rest at last.

  “Oh no,” Clay said sternly. “We’ve still got some work to do.”

  “Seriously?” Blake complained.

  “Yep. Drop your pack and follow me. Just because the house is empty doesn’t mean it’s secure.”

  Blake shadowed Clay around the house as Clay showed him different techniques for noise alarms around entry points. The first was various Christmas ornaments and lightbulbs beneath all of the first-floor windows. The loud popping sounds from ornaments being crushed would provide sufficient sound to alert Clay of any intruders. It was an unintuitive, if not cliché, trap, but effective nonetheless. After that, they set up a few different rigs with tin cans and string around the house. They also made sure the wedge was still snugly nestled beneath the front door. It was.

  Upstairs, Clay showed Blake the room they would sleep in. Having been at the house numerous times in the past, Clay had nailed some boards over the windows so he could run a lantern at night without fear of being spotted from afar. Clay turned on his lantern and set it down in the middle of the floor.

  By that time, Clay could see Blake’s face was consumed with exhaustion. “All right, we’re done for the night,” Clay said.

  “Thank God,” Blake said as he fell back onto one of the twin-sized beds in the room and lay down. Clay did the same and both of them began to drift to sleep. A grumble from Clay’s stomach punched through the silence of the room, reminding them that they hadn’t eaten much all day—certainly not enough to make up for the thousands of calories they burned on the hike.

  Clay reluctantly got out of bed and reached into his pack. “So, I have something I need to tell you,” he said as he continued to rifle through the contents inside. He pulled out a small bag of food and held it up. “This is all the food we have with us.”

  “What!?” Blake said as his eyes widened. “That’s not going to last us!”

  “Nope,” Clay agreed. “It’s our dinner tonight, and with a little luck, maybe some breakfast in the morning.”

  “Okay, so how do we not starve to death?” Blake asked.

  “We hunt, fish, scavenge, forage…” Clay said, tapping a finger with each word. “We do whatever it takes to survive.”

  Blake shook his head, his mouth still slack as he stared at the measly helpings inside the bag. “Why didn’t you just bring more food?”

  Clay answered with another question. “Let me ask you something, Blake. What would you do if all the sudden you were on your own?” Clay paused for a moment, “Heck, let’s make things more complicated. How would you feed a family if it was just you providing for them? Forget about me, or Megan, or Geoff, or Kelsey, okay? We’re out of the picture. Could you provide for a wife? For kids?”

  The weight of the question quickly sank in as Blake’s eyes locked onto one of the countless stains decorating the carpet; he was silent. The prospect of being on his own—or as Clay suggested, having others rely on him for their safety and wellbeing, was not a scenario he had given much thought about since joining Clay and Megan’s group—even less so after they arrived on the farm.

  Blake looked up as Clay stared at him, waiting for a response. Blake gave the slightest of shrugs, then shook his head. “I don’t know,” he said quietly.

  “And that’s okay, Blake, I don’t expect you to know how. There’s no reason to be upset or ashamed of it. You’re not prepared because I dropped the ball.” Clay leaned back on the bed, eventually finding the wall. He sighed and rubbed his eyes with his palms. “When Charlie asked me to show him the ropes, I thought he was too young—that he still needed to just be a kid. With you, it was the opposite problem.”

  Blake looked offended.

  “Don’t get me wrong, Blake. I’m not calling you immature—far from it. Like I told you a couple weeks ago, your contributions back home have been nothing short of amazing. You work hard, you’re responsible enough to have your own gun, and I know you wouldn’t hesitate to put yourself in harm’s way to keep the family safe…” Clay paused for a moment before he smiled, “I see a lot of Charlie in you.”

  Blake smiled as fond memories of Charlie, who worked very hard to make Blake and Courtney feel welcomed when they first arrived at the tower, came rushing to his mind. He took Clay’s comment as a compliment. As an honor.

  Clay continued. “You’re willing to do whatever it takes and that’s a good deal of the battle already. But now it’s time to get the knowledge to back up the willingness…to be a provider, to be a protector,” Clay paused, his expression was serious. “Blake, I pray you don’t find yourself in that situation anytime soon—alone and providing for your family—but if you do, I want you to be as ready as you can be.

  Blake’s body stiffened as he speculated what the next few days had in store. What had originally started as a camping/hunting trip to celebrate his upcoming sixteenth birthday had just morphed into Survival 101 and that scared him. It was certainly not what he was expecting, and though he wanted—he needed—to learn how to survive in this harsh world, he had grown so accustomed to the comfortable life on the farm that he wasn’t looking forward to the crash course ahead of him.

  As Clay’s question, again, entered Blake’s mind, he got queasy as he thought about the prospect of stepping into Clay’s shoes someday. He wondered if he could ever do it as well as Clay does. “Do you ever get scared?” Blake asked, feeling ashamed to continue. “Because…well, I do, and I know if I am going to take care of my family like you, then I can’t let myself be.”

  Clay reached into the bag then handed Blake some food before responding. “My mom died a few days after my fourteenth birthday. It was that exact moment—when I heard her take her last breath—that I felt like the weight of the world had crashed down on my shoulders. Even though Megan was older than me, I still knew it was my responsibility to take care of the family; that others relied on me to provide for them. The fact is I was already doing that before my mom died, but it just seemed more…,”
Clay hesitated as he searched for the right word, “official once she had passed away. Since then, I’ve lost three of my sisters and more than a dozen others that came to stay with us over the years. Those kids trusted me to provide for them; to protect them from the evils of the world…” Clay trailed off for a moment, his eyes became glassy. “To this day, I still feel like I failed each and every one of them. And every morning, when I wake up, the first thought through my head is, ‘Will I fail someone else today?’” Clay looked directly into Blake’s eyes. “Do I ever get scared?” Clay asked, a heavy breath escaping from between his lips. “Blake, there’s not a day that goes by where I’m not.”

  Blake was surprised with his answer; Clay always seemed calm to him. “But you never seem scared of anything.”

  “I’ve learned to hide it well,” Clay said as he took a bite of smoked bass. “For the first couple of years, I was terrible at it. And each day I came home empty handed or when one of the kids would get sick, the others saw how scared I was. Fear is contagious; even worse, it’s destructive.” Clay took a sip of water and swished it around his mouth before swallowing. Dried fish was never his first choice, but it was still precious calories and protein. He continued. “After we were forced to leave our house and set out to find a new home—which eventually was the tower—Megan pointed out to me just how much the others looked to me for hope, and whether I was scared or not, I needed to find a way to act like I wasn’t worried about a thing. It was on that day that I found out that Megan, the one who was always cool and calm, was just as terrified as I was. But I had never known it because she kept those worries to herself. Somehow, knowing that I wasn’t alone with my fears made it easier to act stronger than I felt. If only to bring comfort and peace to those around me. Does that make sense?”

  Blake nodded along. It did make sense and he immediately understood the relief Clay felt when Megan told him that she, too, was afraid. Blake saw all the adults around him as strong, brave, unwavering individuals. He didn’t feel like any of those things, but knowing he didn’t actually have to be those things—at least not all of the time—eased his mind.