"Really?"
"Riley, they have all kinds of people - they have a Doctor, a real Doctor and water tanks and a greenhouse system and everything you could ever need."
"A Doctor. That would be good for the baby," I said quietly.
It dawned on me why Winchester was so excited and why the others were so somber. They wanted to leave California and go to Arizona. Maybe they were preparing to do that before I came back. Would they have left? Something told me they would. Even with Connor out there looking for me.
"Arizona. Do you want to go?" I aimed the question at Jacks but looked around the room. Drake sat quietly with his gaze locked on me but no one else made eye contact.
"We're all alone here. And with winter on the way, how are we going to have enough food? We've got tomatoes and beans growing out back, but that's not enough for all of us. We've got a little one to think about now, too. They have a Doctor." Skip leaned back into the couch, looking more harried as the seconds ticked on.
The room began to shrink around me. The browns, greens and blues of the fabrics swirled together into one bright color and the walls pushed inward. I let my head fall down on the counter and pressed my forehead against the coolness of it until the room stopped spinning.
"It's been weeks, Riley. I know you're thinking about Connor, but if he didn't find you and he hasn't come back…" Jacks flinched back from me when I looked up.
"Why do you trust this Lou guy so much? What's the rush, anyway? We have plenty of time before we have to worry about the first snow."
Jacks looked over my head at Skip, who was still leaning into the couch. With a weary nod, he repeated what he already told me, "They have a Doctor, honey."
Of course. How did I miss it? Skip was sick - really sick from the look of his pale skin, sunken eyes and thinner build. He watched me walk across the room and smiled weakly as I sat on the coffee table in front of him.
"How bad is it?" I asked.
"Oh, no need to worry, dear."
"How bad is it?"
"Well," he sighed, "I couldn't finish my last round of chemo in December, so I imagine the cancer is having quite a field day in this old body of mine."
"Cancer." We spent so much time worrying about the dangers of our new world that we forgot about the killers of our past. Skip was dying of cancer. "Are you in pain?"
He laughed, "When you get to be my age, something always hurts."
Well, that was true. I was twenty years his junior yet could barely walk after sleeping on the ground. Even climbing out of a real bed in the mornings made my knees creak and complain. He wasn't going to tell me how bad it was - not in front of everyone.
The room did that weird shrinking thing again and I closed my eyes and imagined pushing the walls away from my body until the claustrophobic feeling faded. When I opened my eyes, I saw the glass of wine still sitting on the counter. It was entirely too far away.
"To Arizona we go, then. We're a family - we stick together. We can leave a note here for Connor. Or I can stay and wait for him."
"We won't leave you here alone," Winchester said.
"Okay. Then, I'll leave a note. I've done it before," I smiled. "When is Lou, coming back?"
"Next week," Skip sighed.
"Let's hope Connor makes it back before then."
***
"Fin…" I said his name softly but the warm breeze still carried my voice into the trees behind his grave. "Are you here?"
Nothing stirred and of course - nothing answered me. With a long sigh, I sat down next to where his body rested and placed my hand on the overgrown bulge of land. A blade of grass tickled my ankle where my jeans lifted; the weeds had grown almost a foot since the last rain. Every few seconds, a gnat would fly around my mouth or nose so my hands were in a constant state of fanning the late afternoon air around my head.
"I need to know you're okay, wherever you are," I said. My voice was quiet and hushed. I didn't want the others to hear me talking to the grave. "You know I can't stay here with you, I can't keep seeing you every time the lights go off. I'll never recover - you'll never move on."
The only reply I got was the whistle of the wind in the tree above me. It sailed through the pine canopy like a train and I cocked my head to follow the sound all the way into the woods. Even the birds seemed to be listening to the air flowing around them. That moment when you know a storm is coming, when there is electricity in the air and your joints ache a little - that was what it felt like on top of the hill. Like a storm was building in intensity, waiting for the right moment to split open and unleash its fury on anything and everything in its way. Was that what things had come to? Fin as the storm and me as the obstacle that was going to be swept up in its wrath?
With a noisy grunt, I pushed up off the ground and dropped the wildflower I held in my hand on top of where Fin's body rested. "This is all I have left to give you. Move on in peace, my friend."
***
The wind rushed down the mountains, scattering leaves and dirt across the highway in a frenzied mess. The others had already boarded the plane, each of them with a small bag of personal belongings - two for the baby. But I stood on the shoulder with one foot on the highway asphalt and the other in the soft dirt looking to the east where the stubby manzanitas tapered off as a more desert-like landscape took over. Dawn had come and gone only an hour before and the day held promises of something new.
Lou waited inside the cockpit patiently, assuming the reason for my hesitancy was a fear of flying. It wasn't. Even when the small plane roared to life, I kept my feet planted where they were. The moment both of them were on the highway it meant I was really leaving California. I wasn't ready.
"Having second thoughts?" Drake said from behind me.
I shrugged. It was the right thing to do for the group but no matter how many different ways I told myself that, my heart refused to listen. "I'm not sure I'm ready."
"Will you ever be?"
I laughed. It was a hollow sound, a sarcastic laugh. "No."
Drake looked back at the plane as the men inside laughed about something. "Win and Jacks…are they like, a couple?"
"What? Why would you think that?" I blinked at him.
He shrugged. "Win follows that man around like a puppy. And he stares at his ass a lot. They aren't gay?"
"Oh my God, no!" I scoffed, considering Drake's words carefully. Jacks was a ladies man. Always had been - always would be. But Winchester - Win being gay made perfect sense. His insistence on living in the cabin with Jacks and Ana, his discomfort with kisses and hugs from Kris or me. His good taste in clothing and knowledge about shoes. His impeccable appearance - Win was gay. And he had it bad for Jacks. I suddenly wanted to bolt into the plane and ask him, but obviously, it wasn't something he felt comfortable discussing, otherwise he would have told one of us.
"Wow," I muttered. It didn't bother me in the least, but that I hadn't seen it before shocked me. I wondered if Jacks knew.
"So, are we staying or are we going?"
"I thought you were a loner?" I turned to look at him. He smiled and tugged on my hair.
"I was. Maybe I'm rethinking that life."
Rethinking life - wasn't that what I'd been doing every day for the last year? "Okay, let's get on the damn plane."
It was small and cramped inside but with enough seating for our group plus a few more. The empty seats were littered with bags. Lou came back to ensure we were all secured, including Lily in her car seat and Zoey who was leashed to the seat next to me before closing up the hatch and returning to the cockpit. As the plane barreled down the open stretch of highway, I imagined standing on the hill above the lake where Fin and Ana's bodies were buried. I had said goodbye to them with the promise that one day I would return. With my eyes closed, I pictured the note inside the cabin, pinned to the counter under a whiskey glass.
My Dearest Connor,
I know you looked for me. I looked for you too. By now you know the cabins are empty and there's t
oo much to explain in a few sentences. There's an address on the back of this note that I hope you will go to. When you get there, follow the instructions for the CB radio. Someone will be listening. You should know that I found what I was looking for but lost it. Connor, you were right. We shouldn't have gone. I'm so sorry... forgive me. Please be careful - the dead are still watching but it's the living you have to worry about now, because I set the City on fire. They're free now, baby…they're all free. Please hurry up and find me.
I need you to come back to me. I love you. - Riley
The End of Book 2
The Story Continues in Book three…
The thin mattress squeaked beneath my body as I rolled from side to side in an attempt to get comfortable, but everything about the small room was foreign to me, including the full-size bed. A pale night-light flushed the lower half of the room, tinting the white walls a yellowish color that reminded me of used toilet water. All of the concrete floors were laid atop heated wiring that kept the hard surface warm, but the coldness of the space still eased its way into every room and reached for me like invisible cold hands. The sleeping quarters didn't have windows and I missed the fluttering of the cabin curtains and creaky windowsill more than I imagined possible.
It was strange sleeping underground. There was always a chilly draft, though the temperature was carefully controlled. It was as if the earth itself leached all warmth from our little concave of man-made tunnels like a thief and didn't stop the crime until it stole the warmed breath from my lungs. The others said we would get used to it, but I doubted that. I came from a place where it was warm even in winter. People weren't meant to live under the dirt like rodents. Only three weeks had passed, and yet I felt as if I had been locked in the dark for years.
With a long groan, I pushed up and swung my clothed legs over the side of the bed, wincing as my bare feet touched the cool ground. The solar power was at its weakest just before five in the morning, which meant the heat system under the poured concrete was slowly losing its power. The socks I kicked off before falling into bed the night before were nowhere to be seen, so I padded across the room, and stood on the small area rug, digging my toes into the plush tuffs of balled cotton while rifling through the dresser. After pulling on thick, white socks with padded soles and an oversized sweater, I quietly opened my door and peeked into the hallway. The only sound was the hum of a generator down the hall and my feet softly padding along the polished floor.
For the third morning in a row, I found myself upstairs in the community library before dawn, cold and alone. Curled into a ball, buried as deep into one of the plush chairs as physically possible, I sat with a book balanced on my knee and blinked wearily at the printed words. After reading the same paragraph twice, I looked up and stared at the windows that lined the round room like the arc of a rainbow. They were ground level and too small for even a child to crawl thru; their only purpose was to allow light into the space during the day, yet still go almost undetected from outside. The wind roused the loose dirt and weeds and I jumped when a tumbleweed blew across the glass, darting in and out of sight as it scratched along the windows and eventually bounced out of view.
"A storm's coming," Jacks said softly from the doorway. He held a wiggling Lily in his arms and itched his scruffy chin with the bottom of her bottle as she sucked greedily from it.
I smiled at the two of them - father and child. After patting the chair next to me, I draped my book over the arm of my own chair and turned my body to face Jacks as he settled into the adjoining seat. With my eyes closed, we listened to the soft sucking sounds that Lily made as she ate. Such innocence. Such simplicity. Such perfection.
"Is she sleeping better?"
Jacks contorted his face into a myriad of expressions until I laughed. After a heavy sigh, he leaned down and kissed Lily's forehead. One of her tiny hands flailed above her head until it landed on his nose. She squeezed until Jacks winced and when he pulled away from her grasp, his nose was Rudolph-red.
I laughed. "That's new."
"She just learned how to yank. My nose might not survive her first year," he chuffed.
Even though I was happy for the new addition, my heart ached watching sweet Lily, and it ached for my own children. Before Jacks noticed, I turned away to hide my hot tears. Oblivious to my hurt, Jacks whispered softly to the baby before raising his voice slightly.
"Riley…do you think you'll ever have another one?"
My voice was trapped in my throat so I shrugged my answer. If I could have another child, would I? With Connor being lost, there was no one I'd even consider sharing that experience with. After casually swiping my damp cheek, my eyes once again drifted upward to the sand that pelted the heavy-duty windowpanes high above us.
Yeah, a storm was coming all right. A big one from the looks of it…
ACKNOWLEDGEMENTS
My family is amazing. I thank you for your patience, understanding and excitement for my writing. Without you all, I would not be where I am now in my career. I love you Shane, Rory and Foxx. A big thanks must go out to my supportive extended family and friends. Thank you, Mom for reading my work. It means the world to me.
Liana Mark - thank you for your time editing this book. It has been a pleasure working with you. I appreciate your patience and enthusiasm more than you know. I look forward to our future work together.
Deb Rogers - I love everything you do. Your covers are amazing. Thank you for your artistic work, creative inspiration and patience doing the cover for this book! Much love to you!!
Thank you to the amazing Beta Readers: Erin Lang Enochs, Jessica Bailiff, Jennifer Spell Wedmore, Stacey Taylor and Cat Alley. I appreciate your enthusiasm and interest and am so glad you all enjoyed the book.
M-7 - I love each and every one of you: Kristie Haigwood, Miranda Stork, Tara Wood, Lindsay Avalon and Caroline Levy. You lovely women complete me as a writer. FACT.
Writing is a passion, of course, but it would not be as much fun without the wonderful support of my readers, TMD fans and the M-7 Street Crew. You are ALL amazing and my work is for YOU.
ABOUT the AUTHOR
Trish was born and mostly raised in San Diego, California where she lives now with her family and pets. She's been writing short stories and poetry since high school and began her first book, 'I Hope You Find Me' in December of 2011.
When Trish isn't writing, she's homeschooling her amazing daughter and mildly Autistic son, reading whatever she can get her hands on, or enjoying the Southern California sun. As a strict Vegetarian, Trish holds a special place in her heart for animal rights and dashes into the backyard weekly to rescue lizards and mice from Zoey, the dog.
TRISH'S BOOKS & COLLABORATIONS:
FIND ME Series
I Hope You Find Me
Lost and Found
THE STATION Series
Dying to Forget
Dying to Remember
Dying to Return
ANTHOLOGIES
Via Moon Rose Publishing: Once Upon A Twisted Time (Hawke & the Beast)
You Can Follow Trish Here:
Twitter at: https://twitter.com/Trish_Dawson
Facebook at: https://www.facebook.com/WriterTrishMarieDawson
Trish's Blog: http://writertrishmdawson.wordpress.com
Trish's work can be found online as well as in print. Please support your favorite Indie Authors by buying their books and leaving them honest reviews.
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