Aftermath (Book 1): Aftermath

by Donovan, J. S.

  Naomi remembered back when she and Calvin were just young adults at the University of Pennsylvania. They had very little in common outside of their faith, but were for some odd reason drawn to the other like opposite poles on a magnet.

  “Calvin and I are coming up to fourteen years now. We started dating four years before that,” Naomi explained.

  “Ah,” Conner said.

  Naomi spoke up before the conversation lulled. “You handle loss very well, Conner.”

  Conner shrugged. “I can’t do anything about Sean’s death. I thought bringing him and his family out of the city was a great idea at the time. We didn’t expect gunmen at the city limits.”

  “You can’t blame yourself,” Naomi said gently. “There’s no way you could’ve prepared for what happened on that bridge.”

  Conner was silent.

  “Whenever we get a chance, let’s sit down and talk about this,” Naomi offered.

  “I’ve never been to a shrink before, or Confession. I don’t think I’d know what to do,” Conner admitted.

  “You talk. Be real. It’s that simple,” Naomi said.

  Conner thought on it for a moment. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that offer.”

  They walked on. Naomi learned that Conner was the manager of a construction company. Dean had worked alongside him.

  After the four-mile trek, they reached the small town of Poolesville, Maryland. The streets were empty. Naomi guessed that most people were holing up inside. They approached an auto parts store. Calvin cupped his hands around the glass.

  “Empty,” he said.

  They walked down the street. The town was surprisingly peaceful, like they were the only people in the world. They knocked on houses’ doors and got quick responses. Most of the locals were kind, but absolutely clueless as to what happened to the power. Naomi told them about the EMP and how they should start saving water and food through the winter. She was met with skeptical looks, but most of the people took her advice. Calvin inquired about the car parts they needed. The locals couldn’t help. It wasn’t a surprise. The Land Rover was a staple in the British army. There were only a small number of collectors in the States. A local shop owner pointed them to a machinic fourteen miles down the road who might be able to help them. It was a long way to walk. Naomi was starving, but her pride kept her from asking for food. Calvin asked without reservation and got some leftover pizza. They shared some with Conner and Dean and headed back to the Rover.

  Calvin’s mouth was full as he talked. “We might want to think about settling here if we can’t get the Rover going.”

  Naomi was stunned by his words. “Cal, that’s crazy.”

  “If you think for a minute that I like the idea, you’re wrong,” Calvin said seriously. “But there is no way that we’re making a one-hundred-and-fifty-mile hike in this weather. It’s going to be miserable. People will get sick and die. And then we have to deal with Fergus.”

  Dean and Conner glared at him.

  “What?” Calvin asked. “He’s on a wheelchair in inches of snow. It’s just not doable.”

  If there was one thing about Calvin, it was that he didn’t really care what other people thought if he believed his stance was right. After the four-mile hike, they returned to the Rover and informed the rest of the group of their discoveries. It was too late in the day to make the long hike to the repair shop. The chilling wind meant sleeping in the Rover wasn’t an option tonight.

  They grabbed the road map, and opened it on the hood of the truck. They flipped through the various state maps until they landed on Virginia. Naomi put her thumb down on Grave Mills and followed a pathway to Poolesville. She pointed out a rest stop.

  Dean clenched a duffel bag in each hand. Conner grabbed his shotgun and pistol. Becca pushed Fergus. Trinity tried and failed to make conversation with Cathleen. Calvin and Naomi led the pack.

  Moving at Fergus’s pace, it was nearly sundown by the time they reached the rest stop.

  The glass door was locked.

  Naomi pinched the bridge of her nose. The rest of the group looked around in dismay. Suddenly, Dean picked up a nearby rock and slammed it against the glass. It took him five good hits before it shattered. He reached his hand inside and unlocked the door.

  The Ryans stepped through the breach. Alert, Calvin followed. Trinity looked to Naomi for approval. A day ago, Naomi would’ve never thought about breaking and entering… Putting an arm around her daughter, she moved inside the large dark room.

  They made camp in one of the few shops inside. Cathleen found a seat while everyone else got to work. Conner had no problem tearing apart magazines for kindling while Dean went outside to collect branches from the surrounding woods. Naomi and Trinity marched through the building, gathering food to eat. Feeling guilty, Naomi told Trinity to only get what they would eat tonight.

  All the while, Naomi observed the resourcefulness of each person. Old and wheelchair bound, Fergus’s sickness added to his enfeeblement. Becca watched over him. The man’s mumbled jokes made the sixteen-year-old laugh.

  Seated alone, Cathleen’s grieving distanced her from the world. Naomi offered her some small tasks to keep her mind off the loss. The widow gave her a nasty look. Naomi backed off.

  Dean proved himself to be useful, gathering wood and kindling. But he worked at his own pace and prioritized Fergus and Cathleen’s wellbeing before anyone else’s.

  Calvin attempted to build a fire but didn’t have a clue what he was doing. Instead of camping as he child, he built computers and little machines; basic survival skills were not his strong suit.

  Naomi entrusted Trinity with finding blankets and dinner provisions before helping Calvin. He insisted he was capable, but Naomi assisted him anyway. It bruised his ego, but the fire got built.

  Meanwhile, Conner taped blankets around the broken glass door and barricaded it with a stack of chairs and benches.

  It was dark by the time everything was finished. Snow started to fall again.

  A little fire danced on the floor of large dark room. Dean fed scraps of magazine paper to the flame. They enjoyed some pre-packaged sandwiches and trail mix accompanied by whatever drink they wanted. The Ryans and Calvin preferred alcohol and shared it with Becca who shared it with Trinity. Naomi sipped from a water bottle and leaned into Calvin. He put an arm around her shoulder while she had extended both hands toward the fire. The warmth soothed her fingertips. Like sisters, Becca and Trinity rested against one another, mesmerized by the flame. Dean rubbed the knots out of Cathleen’s back. Conner sat a few inches away, eating Skittles. Last was Fergus, who was alone in his chair but covered in two times the amount of blankets as everyone else. Naomi tried a few questions to start a conversation, but it appeared everyone liked the silence.

  Most of them were strangers. It was by chance that the Ryans were on the bridge out of Philly during the same time the Baxters were making their escape. The Ryans had planned to escape the city on foot, predicting Philly would plummet further into chaos in the coming days. However, as they neared the city limit, terrorists attacked. Sean Ryan took a bullet and died a few minutes later. Naomi offered the rest of them a place in the eight-seater Land Rover while Calvin set a nearby building on fire. It was enough of a distraction to get the terrorists’ eyes off them, and allow Naomi escape.

  Apart from their brief encounter, the only Ryan Naomi knew was Becca. She was a girl too beautiful her age with a secret wild side. Around adults, she was polite and kind, but the moment they left the room she was cursing up a storm, chasing boys, and ready to rebel. Nevertheless, she was Trinity’s first high school friend and offered to drive Trinity to school every day.

  The next closest relationship was with Cathleen and Sean. Sean invited them over for dinner every few months to talk about the girls. During those gatherings, Cathleen would gossip about work endlessly. She was in real estate and loved to insult on fellow realtors and customers. As for Conner, Dean, and Fergus, Naomi knew nothing apart from the f
act that they were brought up in the Devil’s Pocket, a bad part of Philly. Nevertheless, they seemed like people that were good to have on her side despite their sketchy background. They owned two pistols and a shotgun along with a tire iron, knives, and canned foods they’d shoved into their duffel bags.

  After the meal, Fergus broke out into a violent coughing spell. Dean and Conner took him off his wheelchair and laid him down on a sleeping bag. His cough continued. They rummaged through theirs bag, only finding aspirin.

  Naomi was about to give them some of her antibiotics when Calvin stopped her. He whispered. “Once we show them the medication, we can’t go back. They’ll always know we have it and will expect our help.”

  The old man’s life seemed more important right now. Besides, her brother Allen said he had all sorts of antibiotics and medications stored up at his house. She pulled out a pill bottle and gave them to Conner. Thanking her, he divvied out a portion for his father.

  After ten minutes, the old man had fallen asleep. Gentle snores replaced his coughing.

  Conner smiled and mouthed thank you. Even Cathleen seemed to hate her a little less. Naomi turned to Calvin with her brows raised. He shrugged.

  As the fire dimmed, Naomi and Calvin snuggled up together under a small travel blanket. They had just trespassed, vandalized, and committed over two dozen counts of robbery. With sorrowful eyes, Naomi watched Trinity’s torso rise and fall as she slept next to Becca. Naomi felt a pit in her stomach as she questioned her parenthood. She wanted to raise Trinity up to be smart, confident, and considerate, not to be a thief and vandal. Under the right circumstances, anyone had the chance to turn evil. Just survive the next couple of months, Naomi told herself. Then you can question your morals. The thought made her feel icky. If there was ever a time to know the goodness in her heart, it was in times of trouble. Otherwise, it was just a sweet lie she told herself in times of peace.

  Naomi shut her eyes, questioning herself.

  That night, cold air seeped through the barricaded door. Bodies shivering, the two families fought to sleep through the storm. Cold and lost in her convictions, Naomi somehow found rest. Like the weather outside, her dreams were cold and dark, offering little insight as to what would come next.

  She awoke next morning with a large hand over her mouth.

  Her wide eyes locked on Conner.

  The calluses on his palm raked against Naomi’s chapped lips. Heart racing, Naomi quickly glanced around the room.

  Early morning light streamed through distant windows.

  Everyone else was asleep.

  Trinity was missing.

  Fear and confusion welled up inside. She tried to read Conner’s hard expression. Alarm, perhaps? The man had good control over his facial muscles. He slowly raised his finger over his lips, silently telling her to stay quiet.

  Naomi’s pulse quickened. She thought about kicking Calvin awake, but saw Conner’s shotgun lay only a yard away.

  Keeping his finger over his lips, Conner slowly removed his hand from her mouth. Naomi fought the urge to scream. She’d jumped to enough conclusions and still needed Conner to trust her. Conner gestured for her to sit up. Naomi did so, keeping her covers held close to her chest. She was dressed, of course, but wanted to show him that she was guarded.

  Conner leaned into Naomi’s ear. She felt the warmth of his breath. “There’s someone outside.”

  He pulled back and pointed to the barricaded door. Beyond the stacks of benches and seats, Naomi saw no one.

  Conner grabbed his shotgun and stayed hunched. He started to toward the door. Naomi put aside her covers and got to her feet. The cold made her knees lock up. She almost lost her balance. Staying hunched, she caught up to Conner, wondering why he decided to wake her up instead of his brother or anyone else for that matter.

  They reached the glass window, each taking cover on either side of the door. She felt like a kid again, playing war with her brother. Only this time, the weapons were real and so were the enemies.

  Fresh footprints trailed outside and across the street.

  Multiple disabled cars sat on the road. A forest sprawled beyond.

  Naomi recognized a set of footprints. They were Trinity’s. There was another set that followed behind hers.

  3

  The Trade

  Conner lingered next to the door and whispered. “Whoever is out there thinks we’re asleep. I’d like to keep that way.”

  Naomi set her jaw.

  Conner explained further. “We don’t want to scare them away.”

  “I think we do,” Naomi said defiantly.

  She jogged away from Conner. A frown sank his face, but he did nothing to stop her.

  Naomi shook Calvin’s shoulder. He awoke slowly and yawned.

  “There’s someone outside,” Naomi whispered. “They may have Trinity.”

  Calvin processed the information for half a second before scrambling to his feet.

  The others heard his stirring and awoke.

  Becca stretched her arms above her head. Her hair sprang in every direction. Her back arched effortlessly. “What’s happening?”

  Naomi filled them in, capping off the brief description with the words. “Trinity is out there. We need to make sure she’s okay.”

  Dean double-checked the magazine in his M1911 and toggled off the pistol’s safety switch.

  Cathleen, Becca, and Fergus stayed back. The rest of them joined Conner by the window. The handsome Irishman held the shotgun firmly and scanned the outside. An eddy of wind brushed over the top layer of snow; it drifted like fine sparkling sand over white dunes. The trees beyond the road had a mysterious quality that was both elegant and ominous.

  Calvin looked out another window, “See anyone?”

  Conner shook his head. “We’ll need to go out there.” He turned to the crowd. “Dean, with me.”

  Calvin looked at their guns. “Maybe we can just talk to them.”

  “They might have Trinity,” Naomi reminded him.

  “Not everyone’s a barbarian, Naomi,” Calvin reminded her.

  Naomi glared at him. “But this is our daughter.”

  Without waiting for their approval, Conner and Dean opened the front door and stepped into the winter wasteland.

  The cogs in Calvin’s mind turned. “Why did Trinity go out there?”

  “I don’t know,” Naomi said.

  Conner and Dean hurried to nearby cover and peered into the woods. Conner’s movements were much more rigid than Dean’s. By Dean’s calmness, it seemed like he had experience sneaking around with a weapon. Naomi didn’t want to draw any conclusions, but she didn’t know either one of these men.

  Conner and Dean split up as they crossed the road. Like trained veterans, they weaved between cars and vanished into the tree line.

  Naomi and Calvin were left staring.

  A long minute passed.

  Then two.

  She looked to Calvin, seeing worry on his face.

  “Maybe we should go out there,” Naomi whispered.

  “Stupid idea,” Calvin whispered, his words as blunt as a hammer. “We need to wait for the brothers. They are better at this then us.”

  Naomi knew there was wisdom in his words, but Trinity was her blind spot.

  Something rustled at the end of the building. Naomi twisted back, looking beyond the shelves of candy and to the backdoor. Silhouetted beyond the fogged glass were two figures fiddling with the locked door.

  Becca and Cathleen looked to Calvin for answers. Calvin turned to Naomi.

  She pointed at the bedrolls and small fire pit.

  “Hide everything,” she whispered. “Now!”

  They rushed to the makeshift camp. Calvin stomped out the fire. Becca rolled Fergus into the ladies’ bathroom. Cathleen grabbed the two large duffel bags. Her shoulders sank under their weight, and she grimaced.

  The back door’s lock jiggled. The strangers would be inside within the minute.

  Calvin offered to
take one of the bags. Cathleen gave him a death glare and hobbled over to the ladies’ restroom. She dropped one of the bags. Calvin rushed over to give her hand, but Cathleen once again refused his help. Meanwhile, Naomi gathered up the blankets in a big bundle.

  The lock clicked.

  The door began to open.

  Calvin pulled one of the bags from Cathleen’s hand and rushed to the bathroom.

  In a huff, she followed.

  Naomi wasn’t done cleaning the camp. She tossed everything aside and took cover behind a nearby shelf.

  The door opened.

  Two men entered.

  They wore trucker caps and long coats over plaid shirts. Their cowboy boots clacked on the tile floor. Each of them had a holstered pistol on their belt. They were in their thirties. One had a shaggy beard. The other had a trimmed mustache. They were both lean. Following them was a third older man. He had bushy white beard and wrinkled forehead. He held up an old railroad lantern with a flaming wick.

  Naomi peered out around the shelf. Her heavy jacket disturbed some of the bag of chips hung up behind her. Naomi stayed still.

  The three men moved deeper inside. The wind spilled fine snow behind them. The old man scanned the room. He gestured to someone outside. A moment later, a grey-haired woman rolled in with shopping cart. The wheels clacked across the floor. The front wheel spun rapidly.

  The two younger men split up, moving through both sides of the rest stop. The woman followed behind, taking armfuls of chips and snacks and putting them into the cart.

  The old man stood by the door, watching. He was the leader. “Save room for water, woman. C’mon now.”

  The women entered a nearby shop. There were multiple stores lining both sides of the vast room. She opened up the drink freezer and pulled out every bottle of water, from the cheap stuff to Fiji. If the women kept this up, there might not be any left for Naomi’s family.

  Naomi kept still. She looked to the ladies’ bathroom. The wall in front of the door made an elbow. Because of this, Naomi could not see the door or anyone from her group.