Darker Days

by A. J. Powers

  Arlo swiftly reached for his VP9 while Shelton scrambled for his Hi Power.

  The crack of the pistol’s shot tore through the silence of the morning, causing the spectators to jump. For the past six weeks, the men and women of Liberty—and her allies—fought valiantly against a merciless aggressor who wanted to take that which the citizens had worked so hard to build—to reap that which others had sown. The resistance had come with a heavy price tag, and for many, the ultimate cost, but it had been worth fighting for—worth dying for.

  And with one final gunshot, Barry Shelton ended the war.

  Chapter 51

  As Clay walked through town, his arm in a sling and a slight limp, he witnessed the trail of destruction left behind from the war. The ruined buildings, destroyed lives, and horrific images would take up permanent residence in his soul.

  “How’s the arm?” Shelton asked as he walked up behind Clay.

  Clay glanced down at the sling. “All things considered, not too bad. Doctor Sowell said it’s going to be stiff for a good while, but he isn’t expecting any loss of motion—long term at least.”

  “I am glad to hear it,” Shelton said. After a moment of silence passed, he added, “Listen, Clay, there are truly no words to express just how indebted we are to you, Megan, Dusty, and Levi.”

  Clay looked up at the burned-out clock tower. “It was no problem,” he said, knowing that Shelton wouldn’t buy it for an instant.

  Shelton laughed. “Yeah, and if I acted like I believed that, I’m sure you’d be trying to sell me a timeshare on South Padre Island—I hear it’s nice this time of year.”

  Clay chuckled, experiencing true relief for the first time in what felt like years. “Well, I guess there were some slight inconveniences, but…” he said, turning to look at Shelton, “it was worth it.”

  The old man choked up. “Honestly, Clay, I don’t know what I’ve done in this life to deserve such loyal friends, but there’s not a minute that goes by that I don’t thank God for them.” He stuck his hand out to shake Clay’s. “Thank you…from the bottom of my heart.”

  “Like I said,” Clay said as he firmly grasped Shelton’s hand, “it was worth it.”

  Wasting no time, the town buzzed with activity as it prepared to endure the rest of winter. Kohler, along with a few others, had already left for the auction house to ensure that no additional attacks would be coming. Though they would remain extra vigilant on security in the months ahead, with Arlo’s body among the stack being prepared for burial, they were not anticipating further conflict.

  “It’s going to take a while to pick up the pieces,” Clay commented.

  “But at least we’re alive to pick them up.”

  Truer words had never been spoken.

  They walked into town, veering toward Vlad’s house.

  “I know it hardly seems like much after all you guys have done for us, but I want you to know that you, along with everyone back home, will always have a place here. If you were ever so inclined, that is,” Shelton said.

  “Thank you, Barry. That means a lot…” Clay said as they passed by a dozen bodies lined up on the ground, “especially in these darker days we live in.”

  “I pray those days become few and far between.”

  “Me, too,” Clay replied, but his words lacked the same confidence Shelton’s had.

  “So, will you guys be heading out tomorrow?” Shelton asked.

  “Today, actually.”

  Shelton was surprised with the response. After everything they had been through, he had expected them to take another day or two to recover. “I wish I had some horses to offer…”

  “I think we’ll manage,” Clay said lightheartedly. The journey ahead would be a cake walk for the now-seasoned veterans.

  “Well, if you change your mind, you guys feel free to take as much time as you need.”

  “Thanks, but I think we’re all eager to get back home. Plus, I’m sure there are plenty of folks here equally as eager to have their family come back to them,” Clay said, reminding Shelton that they would be the ones to tell the others staying at Northfield that it was now safe to return to Liberty.

  “I understand that,” Shelton said, longing for the day that he could see his own family again—a day that would never come.

  When they arrived at Vlad’s house, Shelton decided to forego another handshake, and gave Clay a hug. “Safe travels, Clay.”

  Clay gave Shelton a nod before running up the porch stairs. As he grabbed the handle to the door, he turned around. “I better get an invite to the anniversary celebrations next year,” Clay said jokingly.

  “You’ll be the guest of honor.”

  Clay waved off Shelton’s words and walked inside, nearly bumping into Dusty who was on her way out.

  “Mr. Shelton,” she called out, causing him to turn around.

  “Dusty, my dear,” Shelton said with a genuine smile. “I just want to say again—”

  “I’m sorry,” Dusty interrupted him; the guilt had been pestering her.

  “Sorry? What on earth could you possibly be sorry for?”

  “I lied to you.”

  Shelton walked over and put his hand on her shoulder. “You did what was necessary to help end this war, which means you did what was necessary to save lives. And you never need to be sorry for that, even if it means lying to an old man,” he said.

  “It just felt wrong—still does. But, I didn’t want to leave without telling you that.”

  Shelton rightfully assumed any efforts to minimize her guilt would be met with staunch resistance, so he graciously accepted her apology.

  With the burden off her shoulders, Dusty gave Shelton a salute.

  Shelton returned the salute before carefully taking his Browning Hi Power out of his holster. “When I thought you were heading home before, I gave you this to help keep you safe. So,” he said, holding the gun by the slide, the handle toward Dusty, “I aim to keep that promise.”

  Dusty looked adoringly at the pistol. “She’s a gorgeous gun, and I do appreciate the offer, but I’ll be okay. I have my entourage with me to help keep me safe,” she replied with a chuckle.

  Shelton’s arm remained unmoved.

  With minimal arm twisting, Dusty reached out and took the pistol from Shelton. “Thank you, sir,” she said, stuffing the gun into her waistband.

  Realizing he no longer had a use for it, Shelton took the holster off and handed it to Dusty as well. “I want you to know,” he added, “if you ever need anything, we’ll be here for you.”

  Dusty, caught up in the rare moment of friendly emotions, grabbed on to Shelton, giving him a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a couple of months, Mr. Shelton.”

  Dusty walked back inside and Shelton headed home. As he observed the devastation the town had endured over the past two months, particularly yesterday, he knew there was a lot of work ahead of them. But more than ever, Shelton knew that Kohler and the rest of this town were fighters. There was no challenge too mighty for them to take on.

  As he walked through the front door of his own home for the first time in many weeks, Shelton headed straight up the stairs to lie in his own bed. With tired eyes, he looked over at a picture of his wife that sat on the bedside table.

  Sarah, his beautiful bride, was the last thing he saw before he closed his eyes and truly rested for the first time since the ballgame.

  Chapter 52

  Kelsey stared out the bedroom window watching the snow fall carelessly from the sky. Despite the circumstances, the picturesque scene never got old for her. There was just something so pure about the imagery that she loved—even if she was alone in that thought.

  The serene moment was interrupted as the door flew open, with a rambunctious Dakota zooming in. “You never saw me!” she said as she darted for the closet, burrowing her way under a pile of clothes.

  Moments later, Madeline walked in. “I know you’re in here, Koty…” Dakota’s muffled giggles had quickly g
iven up her location, but Madeline played dumb. “I swear I saw you run in here,” she said as she walked around the room “searching” for Dakota.

  Temporarily suspending her search as she walked up next to Kelsey, she looked out the window. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” she said to Kelsey.

  Kelsey put her arm around Madeline and gave her a hug. “It is...”

  Madeline gave her a quick squeeze. “Okay, if I don’t find her soon, she’s going to suffocate under there.”

  Kelsey laughed—it was nice to do that again.

  After discovering Dakota’s hiding spot, Dakota chased Madeline out of the room, their shrieks and giggles muffled as they ran downstairs.

  Returning her focus to the scene outside, her eyes began to tear up as she saw a small group walking through the gate to the farm. Whether her tears were of joy or sorrow could not be determined until she could see who was walking onto the property.

  Storming down the stairs, Kelsey didn’t bother to grab her coat as she reached for the door. With her mind focused solely on the figures up ahead, she barely noticed the twenty-degree temperature. Practically jumping off the porch, she ran toward the group.

  They were tears of joy.

  Kelsey ran full-speed into Clay’s chest, all but tackling him as they fell into the fresh powder on the ground. So overwhelmed with the embrace of his wife, Clay didn’t even flinch from the pain in his shoulder. After a lengthy squeeze, Kelsey kissed him over and over. Having no control over her emotions, her tears flowed heavily as she laughed with joy.

  “Get a room,” an unsolicited comment came from Dusty as the other three walked by.

  “I missed you too, Dusty,” Kelsey giggled, without breaking eye contact with her husband. She brushed the hair out of her face before bombarding him with more kisses.

  Clay tightly wrapped his good arm around her as the snow gently fell on them. He had been dreaming of this moment since the convoy to Northfield blended into the horizon, and it had been far greater than he imagined. Her beautiful, smiling face renewed his spirits as if she was his source of life.

  After a long, passionate kiss, Kelsey stared deeply into his blue eyes and said, “Welcome home, my love.”