Kahayatle

by Elle Casey

  “Should we go get him?” asked Ronald.

  “Yes. I’ll go. You guys get these kids inside and take care of Winky. She got tagged in the leg. But be careful! I saw light inside. I thought I heard shots, too.”

  Jamal nodded. “Right.” He faced the kids. “Okay, you people. Follow me. Stay between my shield and Ronald’s.”

  “You go too, Peter. Leave me with the keys.”

  “You sure?”

  “Yes. Go.”

  Peter joined the group of kids, all of them huddled together and crying, several of them looking back at Robson on the ground.

  “Don’t worry, we’ll get her later,” said Ronald.

  I waved at Jackson through the fence, and he stuck his head out. “Ready for me?”

  “Yeah. Let me come get you.” I looked all around, hoping we were alone but not trusting that we were. Our riflemen hadn’t gotten everyone who’d come, and I had no idea what was going on behind us or on the sides. I had to trust that my people had me covered. I couldn’t leave Jackson out there like a sitting duck.

  I ran as fast as I could with the awkward shield banging against my knees and the helmet sliding all over the place, only stopping when I was next to Jackson’s door.

  He climbed down and stood next to me for a second in the rain.

  “Long time no see,” he said, smiling down at me.

  “Too long. How’s Katy and the others?”

  “Everyone’s good. She sends her love. And Chantal says she’s coming next time I make a visit.”

  “Awesome.”

  “I got a present for ya in the back.” He jerked his thumb towards the trailer. The distinct sounds of mooing came to my ears.

  “Can I see it in the morning?”

  “Yeah, it’ll keep. Better get us inside before someone decides to take a pot shot at my hind end.”

  I gave him my gun and put my arm around him, holding the shield in front of both of us. “Ready to run?”

  “Yeah, I’m ready. Let’s hit it.”

  We took off running across the pavement.

  Halfway to the gate I realized my mistake. I’d taken my eyes off the entrance for too long, standing at the door of the semi.

  Gail had slipped through the gate and was headed for the lobby door.

  ***

  “Gail! Stop!” I screamed, dropping the shield and running with everything I had.

  Jackson shouted behind me as he tripped over the heavy barrier I’d been carrying and went down on his knees.

  I couldn’t help him, I had to get to her before she could reach my friends.

  “Stop! Gail! I have a gun!” It was a lie. I wasn’t armed. I had to stop her anyway.

  She spun around as I reached the gate.

  I jumped through the opening, measuring the distance between us. She was a good twenty yards ahead.

  She raised her gun and pointed it at me.

  I didn’t have my shield anymore.

  I was closing the distance, but not fast enough. My feet flew over the wet pavement, throwing water up to my back and neck. My helmet fell off and I just let it go.

  I heard someone shout my name from off to the side.

  Maybe it was Paci. The rain muffled his voice too much for me to know for sure.

  Gail smiled.

  I felt the bullet slam into me before I heard the shot fire out of her gun.

  As I fell to the pavement, my chest going numb, I thought how strange it was to personally experience the speed of sound traveling slower than a bullet.

  The last thing I remembered seeing as I fell to my side and my head hit the ground, was Gail’s body flying backwards and landing against the lobby door.

  My eyes slid shut and I smiled before losing consciousness. At least that bad penny won’t be turning up anymore.

  ***

  Rain washes the earth. It rinses away all the oil and grime left by a careless civilization until there’s no more trace of it.

  The blood that was left by the canners and their victims was long gone.

  The bodies had been taken away and burned.

  Any trace of their invasion into our haven had disappeared, making me wonder as I gazed over all of it from up on high if it had ever even happened.

  But then I looked down on my friends and saw all their sad faces, and I knew. I knew it had really happened, and that they’d lost people they really cared for. Looked up to. Respected.

  I wept for them. Just as they wept for themselves.

  “Dearly beloved,” said Ronald, his voice booming out over the crowd. “We are gathered here today to say goodbye to some friends. Some very special people who gave their lives so that we might carry on…”

  His healing words, his poem about our lives, washed over me, their individual syllables meaningless, but their goal still met. Today was a new day for all of them. For me. Today we would start again and try to re-build what was lost. We’d make it better and stronger and safer.

  With the gifts of cattle and horses from the Triple Bar D, we would build our herd. With the birds being sent from Jimmy and Sissy at the Cracker Barrel, we would increase our messenger system and rebuild the contacts poisoned by Gail. With the contact that Bodo was making for us in the Keys, we would reach more people and spread more news and make more connections. Have more friends. Grow our family.

  Paci reached over and took my hand and squeezed it.

  I looked at him and smiled weakly. It was the best I could do.

  Together we would carry on and do whatever it took to build Haven into the safe place its name implied.

  “Bryn, would you like to say a few words?” Ronald asked.

  I moved over to the pulpit, looking down off the stage that had hurriedly been built to manage our memorial service.

  “I’m proud of all of you,” I said, looking at each of their faces. “Proud of how you worked together before they came and during the fight. I’m proud of how you made hard decisions and took risks that showed how much you value human life. That’s the difference between us and the canners. We value the gift of our humanity. We must never lose that.”

  I took Ronald’s hand and pulled it above my head. I would have done the same with Paci’s, but the bruise from my flak jacket taking that bullet still didn’t allow for it. “Lift your hands with me as we say goodbye to our friends.”

  I waited until all the hands were up. I spoke loud and clear, making sure my voice spread out across Haven and beyond.

  “Goodbye, Robson.”

  “Sarah.”

  “Rick.”

  “Kenny.”

  “Gretchen.”

  “Bianca.”

  “James.”

  “Yokci.”

  “Zach.”

  I had to stop a moment before I could finish. I needed to collect myself so I didn’t have a breakdown.

  “And Winky.”

  I dropped my head and waited a full two minutes before continuing. I wanted to remember how my friend Winky had single-handedly fought off three very enterprising canners who’d cut in through an unguarded part of the fence and then found their way into our home through a service entrance, surprising Winky in the lobby. She was bleeding to death from a bullet wound to her leg, but she took them out all the same. She gave her life for Peter’s and for everyone else’s who ran into that lobby after her.

  I raised my head, letting my tears fall freely. “May you all who have died … our friends … our family … rest in peace and be there to guide us when it’s our time to join you.”

  “Amen,” said the crowd.

  “Amen,” I said softly to myself.

  “Thank you for joining us,” said Ronald. “We have food in the lobby for everyone. Please come in fellowship and remembrance.”

  I stood behind Peter and Trip, waiting for them to go down the stairs from the stage ahead of me. Peter was crying softly and Trip had his arm across Peter’s shoulders. I knew I wouldn’t have to worry about my friend or Buster. Trip only stopped h
ugging my best friend in the world and soul brother to sweep the naked poodle up into his arms and hold him close.

  Paci noticed me crying again and pulled me to him, folding me gently into his arms, mindful of my injury.

  “Where to now?” he asked.

  “Will you take me to my room?” I asked. “I just want to lie down and forget this day. Forget the fight. And think about my friends I lost.”

  “Yes, I’ll take you. Do you mind if I stay with you?”

  “No.” I hugged him hard, burying my face in his chest. “Please don’t leave me. I don’t think I can be without you anymore.”

  He squeezed me a little tighter and leaned down to kiss me tenderly on the cheek. “You don’t know how glad I am to hear you say that.”

  EPILOGUE

  “Can you believe this is the same place we rode up to on our bikes five years ago?” I asked.

  “Five years ago, today. To the day,” said Peter. “And yes, of course I can. I planned every square inch of this place out on paper in case you forgot.”

  “How could I forget? Holy crap, you wallpapered eight offices with those plans.”

  “That wallpaper is now responsible for the thriving metropolis that is Haven, population one thousand, two hundred and eighty four, thank you very much.”

  “Five. Jenny and Fohi had their baby last night. A girl,” I said, biting into a turkey sandwich.

  “They did? Why didn’t anyone tell me? I have to put that into the log book.” Peter immediately started searching around for something.

  “There are no pens or paper allowed on family picnic day, you know that. Stop looking for something to write with.”

  A small, handmade soccer ball created with about a hundred yards of twine landed in the middle of our grilled vegetables.

  “Do you mind?” asked Peter in an offended voice. “We’re trying to picnic over here.”

  Trip came running over, all sweaty, his long, black hair a mess. “Toss it here, babe! I’m on the run!”

  Peter tried, but failed miserably. It landed at the feet of the nearby toddler who quickly bent over to get it into his fat little hands. It immediately went into his mouth.

  “Oh, man! Not again!” Trip dropped down onto hands and knees, playing growling bear very convincingly.

  “Give the ball to Uncle Trip,” I said. “Go on, give it to the scary bear.”

  “Bear!” shrieked the little boy, throwing the ball in a panic and nailing Trip right in the forehead with it.

  Trip feigned being knocked out and fell over onto his back, closing his eyes and letting his tongue hang out.

  The toddler didn’t need any more encouragement than that. He ran over on his chubby little legs and dove on top of him, pushing a gust of air out of Trip’s lungs.

  “Tackle!” yelled Paci, running up to join the fun. He picked the toddler up and swung him into the air. “You got him, Kowi! You killed the bear! Good boy! That’s daddy’s boy, big old bear killer!”

  “Mama bear!” Kowi yelled, smiling and shrieking every time his dad lifted him up and let him fall again. “Mama bear!”

  Paci stopped tossing him around and held him close to his chest, both of them facing me now. “Yes, Kowi, that’s your momma. Mama bear. Can you say, Nokosi?”

  “Mowoki.”

  “No, not Mo-oh-kee. No … say it .. Nooo.”

  “No.”

  “Good boy. Now say, Ko.”

  “Ko.”

  “Good, Kowi! Now say, See.”

  “See.”

  “Put it all together. Nokosi.”

  “Mowoki.”

  Paci shook his head and put Kowi down, looking over at me. “Stubborn as a bear.”

  “Wonder where he gets that from,” said Peter, smiling.

  Trip was still playing fake-dead but now he was laughing silently, tongue still hanging out on the side.

  “He gets it from his father, of course. He gets other things from me.” I smiled at my little boy as he walked over, turned around, and sat his little butt right down onto Uncle Trip’s face.

  Paci looked at me and winked. “You up for another frolic in the meadow later?”

  I laughed, pointing at the little guy mashing his bum into Uncle Trip’s face. “Don’t you remember what happened last time we did the naked frolicking in the meadow thing?”

  Paci laughed with me. “How could I forget?”

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  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Elle Casey is an American writer who lives in Southern France with her husband, three kids, Monie the bouvier, and Hercules the wonder poodle. In her spare time she writes women’s fiction and young adult novels (you can find her Women’s Fiction work under the pen name Kat Lee.)

  A personal note from Elle …

  If you enjoyed this book, please consider leaving positive feedback on Amazon, Goodreads, or any book blogs you participate in. More positive feedback means I can spend more time writing! Oh, and I love interacting with my readers, so if you feel like shooting the breeze or talking about books, please visit me. You can find me at …

  www.ElleCasey.com

  www.Facebook.com/ellecaseytheauthor

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  Other Books by Elle Casey

  War of the Fae: Book One, The Changelings - FREE!

  War of the Fae: Book Two, Call to Arms

  War of the Fae: Book Three, Darkness & Light

  War of the Fae: Book Four, New World Order

  Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 1, After the Fall

  Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 2, Between the Realms

  Clash of the Otherworlds: Book 3, Portal Guardians

  Apocalypsis: Book 1, Kahayatle

  Apocalypsis: Book 2, Warpaint

  Apocalypsis: Book 3, Exodus

  Apocalypsis: Book 4, Haven

  My Vampire Summer

  My Vampire Fall (Coming Soon)

  Wrecked

  Reckless

  Aces High

  (co-written with Jason Brant)

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  First, to Whitney Hutchinson for coming up with the name of the town, Haven and therefore the title of the book too. She’s one of my most active fans on Facebook and never fails to make me smile. Yay, Whitney!

  To my beta readers and proofreaders, Theresa, Margaret, Craig, and Olivia. Thank you for keeping my prose smooth and as error-free as it can be out of the gate. You guys give so much of your time, and I appreciate it!

  To my readers, especially those who take the time to review my work on public forums (Amazon, Goodreads, blogs, etc.) and tell their friends and family about my books. You help me succeed at this writing thing, and I’m ever so grateful for all you do.

  To Aidan Brindley, the amazing fan from Australia who made this cover and the one for Book 3 as gifts for me, inspired by his love of the series. There is no author out there as lucky as I am. I’m sure of it.

  To the Elle’Mentals in the SLAP. You guys are amazing. Thank you so much for your promotion and marketing efforts. We will rule the literary world one day. Special thanks to those who signed up for the ARC this time around. You guys are my heroes!!

  To my family. My support structure and reason for everything I do. Thank you for always being there for me and encouraging me and nursing me through those harsh reviews, keeping me focused on what’s important in life.

  To my friends here in France who include me in their lives and customs, who drink wine with me and laugh until the wee hours of the morning sometimes. I cherish you and will hold you in my heart forever!

  To Amazon, who continues to provide the best platform for self-publishing books. I’d be nowhere without Amazon, and I’ll never forget that. Hats off also to iTunes, Kobo, and Barnes and Noble.

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  Elle Casey, Kahayatle