“Well, I guess that’s the closest I’ll ever get to a bunny kiss, and I’ll take that as a yes.”
He reached into his pocket for the two pieces of sun dried tomato he’d been saving for them. Both held the treats in their front paws and happily munched away on them.
“Yeah, yeah, I see how you are. You really only love me for my tomatoes, don’t you?”
He chuckled and got up to leave.
“You guys say your goodbyes to our old friend Mikey. Tomorrow we’re going to send him home to Jesus. After tomorrow it will be just you and me, little furballs.”
Just after sundown he stumbled into the house and into his safe room and collapsed on his bed. He could have built a fire to warm him, and let it burn itself out after a few hours, when he was sound asleep. But he didn’t really need to. The sleeping bags would keep him plenty warm until daybreak.
He was exhausted, sleepy and sore. He knew he’d sleep like a rock.
And he did.
The following morning he was up before the dawn. He was refreshed and instilled with a spirit that would carry him through his last few days before he set out on his quest to find his family.
By noon he was ready to put Mikey in the ground.
A lesser man might have dragged the body to the edge of the grave and shoved it in. But Dave was a better man than that, and still felt bad about shooting an unarmed man. Even if a jury would never convict him. So he had to devise a gentler way to lower the body into the grave.
A section of rope did the trick. Mikey was still frozen in a seated position and would be buried sitting up. If a team of architects unearthed him someday they’d probably scratch their heads and wonder why. And how.
Dave chuckled at the thought.
He wrapped the rope around the body, tucked under Mikey’s arms, and slowly lowered him into the grave.
Then, so that he wouldn’t throw dirt directly into the young man’s face, he covered the body with an old blanket and tossed the rope into the grave as well.
By mid afternoon the grave was filled and marked with a crude marker. It read:
Here lies Miguel Martinez. His friends called him Mikey. I considered Mikey my friend too. May he rest in peace in a far better place than this one.
He said a brief prayer at the gravesite and said aloud, “Mikey, I’ll forgive you for stealing our stuff if you’ll forgive me for shooting you. I truly thought you were going to kill me first. Pleasant journey to you, buddy.”
Then he returned to his own yard to complete his next to last project, providing a watering system for Lindsey and Beth and their bunny boyfriends.
-57-
As Dave crawled through the makeshift gate in the fence, he saw Lindsey and one of the males humping in the corner of the yard.
“Man, you guys don’t waste any time, do you?”
He suspected that by the time he got back, his rabbit population would number a couple of dozen.
It was imperative that he provide adequate food and water for them while he was away.
The food wasn’t a problem. They’d soon have a yard full of green grass to munch on, and with the spring rain season coming up, it would likely grow faster than they could eat it.
But just for added measure, he still had a hundred dead corn stalks lying in the Hansen yard behind his house that he’d throw over the fence and put in a big pile.
The food source, then, wasn’t a problem.
He focused on the water situation.
Most of his rain barrels were partially full from the previous year. A couple of the full ones had split when the water within them froze and were now worthless, but there wasn’t much Dave could do about that now. He took a box cutter to them and cut off the bases, making what looked like two huge blue dog dishes about two feet across and six inches deep.
He put one of them against the house underneath one of the notches he’d cut into the rain gutter.
Hopefully passing spring showers would keep it full most of the time.
He put the other one in a shady spot underneath his pecan tree.
He took two rain barrels that were almost empty and drained them into other barrels. Then he cut a hole eight inches from the bottom of each barrel, inserted a piece of half inch PVC pipe through the hole, and caulked each side of the pipe.
Then he placed a piece of a thick wool sock over each end of the pipe, held into place with a small clamp.
He turned around to find Lindsey and Beth watching him curiously.
He looked at Lindsey first.
“I hope you told that boy he’d better put a ring on your finger, or he’s gonna have to deal with me.”
He looked around for the boy in question and saw him sitting next to the corn pile, munching on a long leaf. The rabbit looked up and saw Dave watching him and then scampered behind a bush.
“Ha! I knew you guys understood English.”
Beth and Lindsey hadn’t budged.
“You’re probably wondering what I’m doing. This is your water supply. After the caulking dries, I’m going to put one of these on each side of the water pan. The plan is to restrict the water flow so that instead of flowing through the pipe, it just drips at a very steady pace. Just a drip, drip, drip, to give you guys enough to drink. But not so much that it will drip too much and overflow the pan or evaporate.”
He turned around and they were gone, playing on the other side of the yard.
“Just like my other girls. As soon as things start getting technical, they’re outa there…”
He turned the barrels upright and left them to dry, while he went to pack the Explorer. It was the final project before his departure, and the one he’d most been looking forward to.
-58-
Hi, honey.
This will be my last entry before my departure. If things go bad for me, these might be my final words to you.
If you find this journal on your own, and I never arrived in Kansas City to find you, then know this… I tried, and something happened to me along the way. Know also that I will love you and the girls for all eternity. You were my life, my love, my everything.
I toyed with the idea of taking this journal with me, to record my thoughts and experiences along the way. But if I didn’t make it, you’d have spent the rest of your life wondering what became of me. That’s why I’m leaving it behind.
The Explorer is loaded up and ready to go. The back seat is filled with your glass pickle jars, stuffed full of jerky and trail mix and dried vegetables. Each one is in a black plastic bag, tied shut. They look like bags of garbage. If anyone happens to stumble across one of them hidden in the brush, hopefully they’ll consider it a waste of their time and pass it by.
I’ve got the stroller in the back along with several bottles of water and lots of provisions. If I have a breakdown I’ll press on by foot. The extra load will slow me down, but not having to stop to hunt and fish will save me some time, so it should even out more or less. I’m hoping for ten to fifteen miles a night.
As I write this, it’s about three in the morning. I’m going to bed just after sunrise. I need to check the water supply for the rabbits just to make sure it’s not draining too fast, and the seal isn’t leaking. After I’m happy with that, I’ll sleep all day tomorrow so I can set out about midnight tonight.
I snuck over to Frank and Eva’s last night to say my goodbyes. They wished me well and said they’re looking forward to meeting you guys. And they wouldn’t let me leave until I said a prayer with them and asked God to watch over me on my journey.
If all goes well and the car doesn’t break down, I’ll be there in a few days.
I love you with all my heart. Wish me luck.
Thank you for reading
ALONE, Book 2
AN UNKIND WINTER
It was a fun book to write. I hope you enjoyed it.
The next book in this series will be titled
ALONE, Book 3
THE JOURNEY
In The Journey, Da
ve finally puts his dreadful winter behind him and sets out on an incredible journey, a thousand miles to the north, to retrieve his family and bring them back home.
The trip is fraught with peril and bad men intent on stopping him.
But Dave, as we know, is determined. He’s driven by a need to know whether his wife and daughters are alive or dead. And a desire to bring them home if he can find them.
In The Journey, Dave battles not only the elements and those who would keep him from his mission. He must also struggle with perhaps his biggest enemies: his own personal demons and self doubts.
ALONE, Book 3
THE JOURNEY
will be available on Amazon.com and through Barnes and Noble Booksellers in March, 2015.
**********
Please enjoy this preview of
BREAKOUT.
BREAKOUT
is Book 3 in the “Final Dawn” series, and is available now at Barnes and Noble.com and Amazon.com
Hannah hadn’t slept in a real bed for a very long time. For six and a half years she and Mark had slept on a four inch mattress in the back of a recreational vehicle, deeply hidden within an abandoned salt mine.
Oh, the mattress wasn’t that bad. Not really. And considering that most of the world was dying outside the mine while she was able to sleep safely at night, she really had nothing to complain about.
But now that the group had finally broken out of the mine and ventured out into a brave new world, Hannah was looking forward to a real bed, soft and warm and big enough to stretch out in.
And now, on their very first night outside the mine and in a nearby walled compound, she was sleeping like a baby.
Was.
But not any more.
Little Markie, almost six and a total mini-me of his father, crawled into bed beside her and poked his finger into her cheek. Three times.
“Mommy, are you awake?”
Hannah was now somewhere between slumber and consciousness, in that foggy zone where one isn’t sure whether or not they’re dreaming.
But she sure hoped she was.
Then she felt it again. The tapping of the finger. And the accompanying words: “Mommy, are you awake?”
“No, honey. Mommy is sleeping.”
Please be a dream. Please be a dream.
“Mommy, I’m afraid.”
Nothing gets a mother’s attention faster than a child who’s afraid. Hannah’s eyes were instantly open, her mind immediately searching for whatever had frightened her dear child.
She looked at Markie, lying in the bed beside her.
“Afraid of what, little sailor?”
“I don’t like this place. I want to go home.”
Her heart sank.
She lifted up the covers so little Markie could crawl inside with her and Mark. Then she patted her pillow. “Lay your little head right here and snuggle with Mommy. Tell me why you’re afraid.”
“I don’t like my new bed. I want to go home.”
“Honey, we are home. We just stayed in the other place while we were waiting for it to get light again outside. And waiting for it to be warm again, so we could come out of the mine. This will be our home from now on. You’ll get used to it, I promise.”
The cramped RV in the back of the mine was the only home Markie had ever known.
“No. I don’t like it. I’m scared.”
“Why don’t you like it, honey? What scares you about it?”
“My bed is way too big. It’s big enough for monsters to live in. I don’t want to wake up and find monsters in my bed. And I can’t see you and Daddy from my new bed. I could see you and Daddy before, except when you closed the door. And then I could see the door. But I can’t even see your door from my new bed. And I’m scared.”
“Oh, honey, I’m so sorry.”
She held him close.
“I know for a fact that no monsters will ever get in your bed. No monsters are allowed in this building. Your daddy put a big sign out in front that says ‘Monsters Go Away.’ So all of the monsters have to go bother somebody else. They can’t even come in here.”
“Can’t they break in?”
“Nope. We have monster proof locks. We had to order them special from the Monster Proof Store. And your silly daddy, he hung them upside down the first time. So Uncle Bryan had to come and show him how to do it right.”
“Daddy is pretty silly, huh?”
“You got that right, little buddy. He’s sillier than all the sand on the beach.”
“No, Mommy. He’s sillier than all the stars in the sky.”
“No, little sailor. He’s sillier than all the water in the ocean.”
Markie’s face grew serious.
“Mommy?”
“Yes, sir?”
“I’ve never seen those things… stars and beaches and oceans. Except in picture books. Will I ever get to see them for real?”
She brushed aside some hair that had fallen into eyes.
“Oh, yes. Maybe not the ocean. We’re very far away. And the beaches, well, they’re the oceans’ next door neighbors. We’ll try to take you to see both of them someday. But the stars, the stars live right here with us in our new home.”
“They do? For the reals?”
“Yes, sir. For the reals.”
“When can I see them?”
“I’ll tell you what. Tomorrow night we’ll ask Daddy how to get up to the roof. And we’ll all go up there, and if it’s not too cloudy, maybe we can see the stars. Oh, and maybe even the moon too.”
His eyes grew as big as saucers.
“The moon too?”
“Yep. If it’s out. Sometimes it hides for a few days.”
“Oh, I hope it’s not hiding. I want to see it and the stars.”
Hannah turned her head to look at Mark. He was still sleeping like a baby, his mouth open and a long line of drool soaking his pillow. He very softly snored, but not enough to keep anyone else from sleeping.
That, apparently, was little Markie’s job.
“Honey, if Mommy lets you snuggle and sleep with her tonight, can we figure out what to do about your bed tomorrow?”
“Okay, deal. And can we put a ‘Monsters Go Away’ sign on my bedroom door, just in case they accidentally get in?”
“Okay, deal.”
He snuggled against Hannah’s bosom and put his arm around her. Or at least as far as it would reach. She held him close.
But before she drifted back to sleep, her curiosity got the best of her.
“Markie?”
“Yes, Mommy?”
“How come every time you get scared, you always wake me up instead of your daddy?”
“Because you’re softer.”
**********
Please enjoy this preview of
COUNTDOWN TO ARMAGEDDON.
COUNTDOWN TO ARMAGEDDON
is available now at Barnes and Noble.com and Amazon.com
Scott Harter wasn’t special by anybody’s standards. He wasn’t a handsome guy at all. He wasn’t dumb, but he’d never win a Nobel Prize either. He had no hidden talents, although he fancied himself a fairly good karaoke singer.
His friends didn’t necessarily share that opinion, but what did they know?
No, if those friends were tasked to choose one word to describe Scott Harter, that word might well be “average.”
If Scott excelled at one thing, it was that he was a very good businessman. And he was also a lot luckier than most.
And it was that combination – his penchant for making a buck, and being lucky, that led him here on this day to the Guerra Public Library on the west side of San Antonio.
To research what he believed was the pending collapse of mankind.
Twenty three years earlier, Scott had done two things that would change his life forever. Even back then, he was just an average Joe. He’d had plans to become a doctor, but his average grades weren’t cutting it. So he dropped out of college halfway through his junior year.
&
nbsp; He’d have loved to have married a beauty queen, but his average looks certainly did nothing to attract any. Neither did his average amount of charm. So instead he started dating Linda Amparano, who was a sweet girl but somewhat average herself. They seemed to make a perfect, if slightly vanilla, couple.
The second thing Scott did that year was buy a dilapidated self-storage unit on the north side of San Antonio. It was one of those places where people rent lockers to store their things when their garages have run out of space. Or their kids go off to college. Or when they just accumulate so many things that they’ve run out of room to put them all.
Pat, the guy who sold the property to Scott, was a friendly enough sort, but not a businessman at all. He didn’t understand some of the basic principles of running such an operation.
Not that Scott was an expert. At least back then he wasn’t.
But even back then, Scott knew the value of curb appeal, and that a fresh paint job and a few repairs could attract a few more customers. And a few more customers would help supply money for advertising, and special offers, and long-term lease discounts. No brainers, actually.
So by the end of that year, two things happened. Scott had turned around the business and turned it into a money-making operation. And he married Linda.
The pair said their vows on December 17th of that year. It was bitterly cold that day. The coldest December 17th on record for that part of Texas.
If the cold was an omen, though, neither of them saw it. If either of them had, and had gotten cold feet, their lives would be so much different today.
But they just laughed it off, as young couples in love are wont to do. And they went ahead with their nuptials and started their lives together and never looked back at that cold day in December when they ran headlong into a marriage that shouldn’t have happened.
The marriage lasted nine years. It produced two great sons, so there was that. And Scott and Linda remained friends. That was something else. So there was a good legacy, of sorts, left behind by their mistake that cold December day.
An Unkind Winter (Alone Book 2) Page 21