WWIV_The Last Finders

by E A Lake

  Sharon turned quickly and shook away the notion. “No. I’ve never been happier since I was a child back in Iowa. These past 22 months with you have been wonderful. I couldn’t have asked for better friends…” Edith blushed, “…or a nicer community, or a more wonderful place to call home.” Sharon turned from the window to face Edith directly.

  “I’ve just been going through, in my mind,” Sharon continued, “the past 10 years. The first eight were so different than this. It was just the four of us, day after day, month after month. There were times that were truly awful out there.” Sharon’s face fell as she recalled some of the bad times. “But there were times,” her face lit up again, “when it wasn’t so bad.”

  Edith took a seat in a chair next to her friend. “What’s the worst? Something you haven’t told me before?”

  Sharon pondered the question. She’d told Edith so many of her tales already, it was hard to recall a different one. Finally, her eyes rose to meet Edith’s.

  “We hadn’t been on the road long, maybe it was our second year with the boys,” she began. “It was a terrible winter that year. And we had wandered into southwestern Iowa in search of anything we could trade. We got deeper and deeper into the barren country and before we knew it, we were in the middle of winter. And we didn’t have much.”

  “Were you near a town?” Edith interrupted. “Or any sort of civilization?”

  Sharon shook her head. “Nothing. We were on our own and desperately low on food.” Sharon rubbed her brow, recalling the harsh winter that year. “We stayed in this little farmhouse miles from the next abandoned place. The snows were bad. Days and days of snow. And when it wasn’t snowing, it was bitterly cold and the wind blew like I’d never seen before.”

  Edith frowned and rubbed Sharon’s hand. “That sounds so dreadful.”

  “It was worse,” Sharon added. “Worse than dreadful. By the third week, we were down to next to nothing. We had a bag or two of old carrot pieces and that’s all. And the snows just kept coming.” She laughed to herself, remembering the events. “Finally, Jimmy put on every piece of clothing he could find and went out to the garage behind the house. We thought he’d never make it back.” Sharon stared up at Edith.

  “He found a bag of dry dog food out there, in a metal trash can.” Sharon looked up, recalling Wilson’s find. “He opened the bag and said it smelled okay. Me and Judy didn’t want anything to do with it. ‘I’d rather die’, I told him, ‘than eat some crummy old dog food.’” Sharon crossed her arms and lost herself in her memory.

  “Well?” Edith finally couldn’t take the suspense any longer. “What happened?”

  Sharon smiled. “We held off a few days, but we needed protein. Jimmy said it wasn’t so bad. He’d grab a few handfuls here and there. But Tiny,” Sharon looked at Edith from the corner of her eye. “Every time you looked, he had his hand in that bag, and he’d toss in another mouthful. We finally gave in.”

  Edith looked at Sharon, shocked. “How terrible! You poor thing.” She leaned over and hugged Sharon. “So, how was it?” she asked squeamishly.

  “Oh, it was bad,” Sharon replied. “But it was protein. And we only had to make it a few days on it. After that, the weather broke. Wilson and Tiny used it for bait to snare a bunch of rabbits. And let me tell you…” A twinkle filled her eyes. “…Rabbit is a whole lot better than dog food.”

  The women shared a good laugh. A whistling teakettle caught Edith’s attention. “Water’s ready,” she said cheerily as she rose and left the room.

  A knock on the door caused Sharon to jump. Just as she stood, she heard the door open and a voice call out. “Hello?”

  Sharon smiled broadly. “Hi, Judy. We’re in the parlor.”

  Edith hurried from the kitchen to greet their guest. Wiping her wet hands with a dishtowel, she gave Judy a hug. “Hi, stranger!” she said sweetly. “Long time no see.”

  Judy hugged Edith in return, squeezing her tightly. “Oh, that darn flu just wouldn’t let go,” she replied, taking off her long wool coat. Edith looked down at her distended belly and smiled.

  “And the baby did okay with the flu?” Edith took Judy’s coat and hung it on a brass hook near the door. She wrapped her arm around Judy’s mid-back and led her to the parlor.

  “The baby seems to be just fine,” Judy replied. “Charles insisted that Doc Hamilton come over and check me out. I told him I was fine; the baby was still kicking up a storm. But you know Charles; he insisted.

  Sharon greeted the pair in the hall outside the parlor. The cousins shared a tender embrace followed by quick pecks on one another’s cheeks.

  “I was beginning to think you’d run off,” Sharon said with a grin. “Charles said you had the flu when we saw him at church last Sunday. It must have been a bad one.”

  Judy placed her hands behind her back and stretched her mid-section forward. “I only threw up a couple of times. But the baby didn’t like that too much.” Judy watched as Sharon leaned down and whispered something to the unborn child inside of her. Judy smiled at her cousin’s display of love.

  “You two sit down and I’ll go finish the tea,” Edith insisted. She herded them to some comfortable seats and disappeared back into the kitchen. Judy took Edith’s previous spot while Sharon returned to her favorite chair.

  “So,” Sharon asked, “how is Charles?”

  Judy glanced up at Sharon and smiled. Tiny red circles on her cheeks were twice as big as normal, either from the cold weather or the glow of the child within. “Oh, Reverend Chandler is just fine. When he’s not busy tending to his flock, he seems to use all his extra time waiting on me.” Judy spoke fondly of her husband. “I am so fortunate to have found him when we arrived here. I’m sure it was God’s divine providence for both Charles and myself. I can’t hardly remember a time anymore without him in my life.” Judy rolled her neck. She listened for something, finally looking back to Sharon, puzzled.

  “And where’s Miranda?” Judy asked.

  “She’s over next door with Mr. Billows,” Sharon replied. “I think this afternoon they were working on vocabulary skills. She’s still having trouble pronouncing some of the words she reads, but she’s getting better all the time.” Sharon beamed with a sort of motherly pride.

  Judy leaned towards her cousin and they joined hands, sharing a satisfied smile. “How wonderful it was for you to find such a friend like Edith. And she took us all in, no questions asked, no bother to her at all,” Judy said. “And to continue on and share her home with you and Miranda like she has; that’s just so wonderful.” Sharon nodded her agreement.

  “And then,” Judy continued, “to take such an interest in Miranda and insist she find people to help educate her. And without any schools here in Ashland, she just never gave up. Such a dear friend we have in her.”

  Sharon smiled sadly. “I keep telling myself that I have to find a way to repay her for all of this,” she said, looking at their intertwined hands. “But how could I? This is more than I ever expected to find in life.”

  Judy rose and went to the back window. Without turning back to Sharon, she began. “Has there been any word from Randy? It’s been a while now.”

  Sharon’s face tightened. “Nothing. Still nothing at all,” she replied. “He left that first fall we arrived, some 15 months ago. Said there was a young lady a few towns back that he had spoken with. She asked him to come back.” Sharon recalled the events like they had happened last week.

  Judy turned. “There was a young woman, in High Pointe or some place like that.” Judy patted her lips gently, trying to recall the details. “Maybe I just remember it that way because I want to. I don’t want to think of him as…” Her words trailed off as tears sprung to her eyes.

  Sharon came to her cousin and tried to hug away the sadness, the same feeling that always arrived whenever the subject of their old friends arose.

  Judy stared deeply into Sharon’s eyes. “I dreamt about him again the other night, Jimmy.” Sharon sighed and l
ed the pair back to their seats.

  “It was okay,” Judy continued. “We were happy. All of us were happy.” She gave a funny smile and wiped away a stray tear. “He had a suit on. We were digging through some house and Jimmy had some suit on. And his hair was cut. He looked so nice, and so happy. We were all happy.”

  A sad expression quickly replaced Judy’s momentary joy. She looked at the floor and then back to Sharon.

  “Charles and I were trying to settle on names the past few days,” Judy whispered.

  Sharon smiled and tried to bring her cousin’s focus back to her own face. “Have you decided anything yet?” she asked. “You only have what, six weeks or so?”

  Judy nodded sadly. “Yes,” she began with an apparent new shot of courage. “If it’s a girl, we’re going to call her Janice.”

  A lump formed in Sharon’s throat as her eyes began to immediately cloud over. “That’s so sweet, Judy. After your mother,” Sharon managed between sniffles. “She’d like that so much.” She reached and took Judy’s hands again. “So, if it’s a boy, you’ll go with Raymond then, after your dad?”

  Sharon watched as tears fell on Judy’s lap. Slowly, she raised her sad face and tried to look at Sharon. She wiped each cheek and tried to speak, but couldn’t. Something painful was coming and Judy didn’t seem to want to release this agony.

  “No,” she finally got out between tears. “If it’s a boy, we’ve decided to name him Jim.”

  Sharon’s hands shot up to her own face as she gasped, trying to hold back a rush of pain that had been locked inside her soul for so long.

  “Do you think he’d be okay with that?” Judy asked.

  Sharon rose and hugged Judy with all her might, the pain of a thousand dreams dripping from her face. She felt happy sobs shake her body, fondly recalling their friend.

  “Yes,” Sharon replied with a small smile. “I think Jimmy would be proud.”

  Judy nodded one last time. “That’s settled then. His name will be James Wilson Chandler, if it’s a boy.” She sighed, folding her hands in her lap. “I don’t ever want to forget him, Sharon.”

  Sharon’s smile grew as she wiped away the last few tears. “Oh Judy, we never will. Never.”

  Wayne, and his number one, stared at the man standing on the other side of his desk. Jerry seemed uneasy, but Wayne’s usual smile showed his arrogant confidence.

  “So you say we should remember you?” Wayne asked the stranger. “What did you say your name was again?”

  “Randy. Randy Graves.” The young man stood tall and spoke with confidence as his eyes went from Wayne to Jerry and then back to Wayne.

  “Well, Randy, you’ll have to forgive me,” Wayne replied, sneaking a quick peek at Jerry. “We see a lot of people in this office. So, I’m sorry if I don’t recall you or your friends.”

  Jerry handed Wayne a package wrapped in an old plastic sack. “Says he brought you a present, Captain.” Jerry moved to the side as Wayne smiled and started to unwrap the gift.

  “Well,” Wayne beamed. “I must have made a pretty good impression on you all for you to bring me back a present from wherever it is you traveled.” A string encased the long, thin box. Wayne worked at untying it carefully.

  “We were finders,” Tiny began again, quieter. “We stood right here some 20 months ago.”

  Wayne’s eyes narrowed. “You do look familiar, I have to admit.” Wayne opened the box. Whatever was inside was wrapped in a piece of tissue paper. Finally, he got to the goodies.

  “Well, look at that.” Wayne held the gift out for Jerry to see. “It’s a knife. A real nice homemade knife, Jerry. Isn’t that nice?”

  Jerry nodded carefully while studying Tiny’s face.

  Tiny nodded at the men. “The handle’s made from a big deer horn I found last fall. I cut it and polished it with some old sandpaper I found.” He pointed at the steely instrument. “I found the blade in an old house last summer. I like the big ones. That’s about seven or eight inches long and three inches wide.”

  Wayne studied the beautiful handmade tool.

  “The blade was all rusty,” Tiny continued. “So I polished it up and kept at it. Really shined up nice.”

  Wayne grinned at Tiny. “Well, this is quite a gift. It’s very, very nice, Randy,” he said enjoying the knife. “It’s something I’ll cherish for a long time. Thank you.”

  Tiny nodded and reached for the knife. “If you flip it over,” Tiny said, holding the it jointly with Wayne. “I carved my buddy’s initials in it for you. So you wouldn’t forget him.” Wayne studied the etching in the blade.

  “JW,” Wayne said quietly. “What did you say your friend’s name was again?” He slowly raised his eyes to stare at Tiny’s face.

  “Jim,” Tiny said quietly. “But we called him Jimmy most the time.”

  “Jim W,” Wayne repeated. “Long hair, kinda medium height and build? Finder you say?” Tiny nodded without looking up.

  “Wilson,” Tiny replied in a whisper.

  Wayne leaned forward slightly. “What was that? I didn’t quite hear you,” he asked.

  Tiny’s face came up to Wayne’s, the tall man’s eyes filled with hate. “Wilson,” he repeated more loudly.

  Tiny wrenched the knife from Wayne’s grasp, flipped it and plunged it deep into the older man’s chest. Wayne gasped as the blade dove deep into a lung. Tiny grabbed his shirt collar and stared into the depths of the Captain’s soul.

  “He was my friend,” Tiny spat at the dying man. He pulled up on the knife, as the blade tore through ribs and tissue.

  “My best friend,” Tiny said sorrowfully. He watched as life slipped from the old man’s eyes.

  Next to him, Tiny heard Jerry scurrying to draw his pistol from its holster. Tiny stared at Wayne, the older man gasping for his last breath. Pleased with the results, Tiny released the man’s collar and Captain Wayne Randall fell to the floor.

  Tiny heard the hammer cock on the pistol pointed at his head. Slowly, he leaned forward and took one last look at the man who’d caused all his pain, all his grief. Seeing no signs of life left in the man’s body, Tiny smiled.

  ############

  Did you enjoy The Last Finders?

  If so, would you please consider leaving a review on Amazon?

  It easy to do and I would consider it an honor having you leave one for others, and me, to read.

  At the end of this book you will have the chance to do just such. Thank you.

  Thank you for reading my latest creation.

  And now, I have a free gift for you.

  Receive your free copy by clicking here.

  The Unjust must pay the price; after all, they have caused the darkness.

  Other Books by e a lake

  Find out EVERY time lake releases something by going to ealake.com/contact and filling out the contact form at the bottom of the page. In the comment box, simply state “Add me to your email list.” Sign up today; all people on my list are eligible for my monthly prize drawings.

  WWIV Series - In The Beginning, Hope in the Darkness, Basin of Secrets

  WWIV (The Shorts) - Darkness Descends, Darkness’s Children

  The No Where Apocalypse - Stranded No Where, Surviving No Where, Defending No Where, Searching No Where

  Glitched

  Seasons - A Year in the Apocalypse

  Click on any of the above for further details

  About the Author

  e a lake and his wife reside in Woodbury, MN; just a mere ten minutes from downtown St. Paul. He has three grown children (all married), and four grandchildren.

  Sign up for lake’s newsletter at:

  http://ealake.com/contact

  Follow lake’s weekly blog at:

  http://ealake.blogspot.com/

  Follow lake on Twitter at:

  https://twitter.com/ealake5

  Follow lake on FaceBook at:

  https://www.facebook.com/ealake5?

  And finally, on Google+ at:

 
https://plus.google.com/+EALake/posts

  And, as always, thank you for reading my novels.