All rights reserved.
Copyright © 2018 by Renee N. Meland
Cover Art by Deranged Doctor Designs
Formatting by Polgarus Studio
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form, except for brief quotations in printed reviews, without the express written consent of the author.
For more information, visit http://www.reneenmeland.com
The Ocean in the Fire
ISBN: 978-0-9960029-1-2 (Epub)
ISBN: 978-0-9960029-5-0 (Mobi)
ISBN: 978-0-9960029-9-8 (Print)
DEDICATION:
For Madelyn Renee
Table of Contents
CHAPTER ONE
CHAPTER TWO
CHAPTER THREE
CHAPTER FOUR
CHAPTER FIVE
CHAPTER SIX
CHAPTER SEVEN
CHAPTER EIGHT
CHAPTER NINE
CHAPTER TEN
CHAPTER ELEVEN
CHAPTER TWELVE
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
CHAPTER NINETEEN
CHAPTER TWENTY
About the Author
CHAPTER ONE
CONNOR
The ripples on the surface of the water slowed to a stop, and Connor Holloway wasn’t afraid.
“Are you sure they will come, Dad?” his daughter, Poe, asked softly, hopefully.
“Of course they will. Children always do.”
As his daughter sat down next to him, he looked out across the pond that had helped draw him to the property when they were first shopping for land. He glanced over at Poe and saw her face was vacant, devoid of a smile, but that was nothing new for the withdrawn sixteen-year-old. She had always been one to worry about whether the flowers would freeze in the winter, instead of experiencing the joy that came from their colorful blossoms in the spring.
Connor knew he had done that to her.
They let themselves sink into the soft earth as they stared out at the vastness of their land, covered with thick willow trees and thicker promises of change and new beginnings. He watched as the wooden swing, held together by a fat brown rope turned green with age, swung in the slight evening breeze. “Will we be ready?” Poe asked.
“There are plenty of fish in the pond, both young and old, and your mother has been curing meat for safe keeping.” He threw a rock at the pond’s surface, and the water danced once more. Each time he threw a rock, it seemed to land in the exact same spot. He pictured the rocks piling up at the bottom of the pond, a pyramid of grey and brown stones. He took comfort in the fact that in a thousand years, when he and his children were long gone, that pile of rocks would still be there, a reminder of his own existence standing tall long after the pond itself had long dried up. “We have plenty of blankets, and firewood for the colder months.”
Poe’s deep dark eyes, the ones that matched his own so perfectly, radiated concern. “I don’t mean with that kind of stuff. We’ve been doing that forever. I mean how do we know we can trust them?”
He placed a comforting hand on his daughter’s shoulder and responded simply, “We don’t. Never forget that.”
***
“Kate, how’s the meat coming?” Connor asked his wife as he entered the kitchen with Poe close behind him. Their metal pots and pans sparkled as they hung from the ceiling rack. He kissed Kate on the forehead as she jokingly pretended to smear a streak of flour down the side of his face. Magazines were scattered mindlessly on the far end of the dinner table.
“Very well.” As her mother talked, Poe carefully pushed them back together into a neat, even stack as she listened to her parents’ conversation. Kate had left the jars of paprika, chili powder, and chives she had used to season the chicken that would be their dinner sitting directly under the cabinet where the spice rack was. Quietly, Poe set them back in their alphabetically-ordered slots, the same as Connor would have done if no one was watching.
Though he was speaking to Kate, he looked at Poe. “We don’t know how many we will take yet.” Connor sighed. “Also, once people get desperate, there’s a chance we won’t be able to go out for a while. Those who don’t have what we have may try to take it from us. There may be a period of time where it’s unsafe to step beyond our walls. We have to be ready.” Poe gave him a slight nod.
Kate smiled as she kneaded a ball of dough that would soon see their oven. “We will be ready, I promise. Harper and I killed another deer this morning. She’s preparing it downstairs as we speak.” Carefully, she sprinkled rosemary, tarragon, and sage into the dough as she flattened it with her fists over and over, only to flip it and do it again. This time after she was finished she put the spices back in their slots.
“That’s three this week. You and Harper make quite the hunting team.” He was always impressed, and thankful, that his wife and daughter somehow wound up being expert markswomen. He preferred to busy himself in the vegetable patches, growing carrots and broccoli for his family. Equally as important, it gave him time to continue studying which herbs and compounds could combine to make a lethal concoction. Between tending their orchard and gathering the berries that grew on the outskirts of their property, he discovered that arsenic looked a lot like powdered sugar.
Connor glanced up as he heard the front door open. His son Gabriel shut the heavy door behind him. His jeans were covered in grease, and his hair had specks of black sludge peeking out from his dark locks. A t-shirt that used to be white hugged his muscular arms, which had grown so from twisting heavy bolts and latching engine parts together. His breath was heavy. “It’s getting worse out there. I was listening to the radio. The announcer said it’s getting closer.”
“How’s the truck coming?” Kate asked.
“Should be done soon. I just have to replace one more part and she should be ready.” He went over to the fruit basket that was sitting on the kitchen island and grabbed an apple. The flour that Kate had been using on her dough had wafted over the kitchen, and he had to wipe his apple on his shirt to clean off the dusting. “I’m going back to it—just needed a snack.” He put the apple to his lips, and took a big bite. Between chews, he said, “Dad, maybe we can make one run to town before it gets really bad? It wouldn’t hurt to get some more supplies before people realize they will need them. And there’s no time to order anything either. They said on the news that there’s a month’s wait for most packages, and that’s probably a low estimate if I had to guess.”
Connor sighed. “Gabe, you know if they’re finally admitting on the news that it’s bad out there, that means it’s even worse than their saying. I think we’re going to have to stay here.”
He heard footsteps from the stairwell that came up from the basement, and looked to see Harper eying him predatorily, evidently hearing their conversation as she was coming up. “But, Dad, I just wanted to go one time,” she said, her voice raising an octave or two from where it usually was. She was Poe’s twin sister, and neither girl was used to hearing the word ‘no.’ Connor knew that was his fault too. “We need some more fabric if there’s going to be more people here. And besides, going into town won’t make much difference now. I bet hardly anyone will be out and about.”
“Let’s wait for one more news report then we’ll talk about it.”
Harper ran up to him and threw her arms around him, careful not to touch his shirt with her blood-soaked hands. There were little bits of fur stuck under her fingernails. The juxtaposition of her yellow-flowered dress and t
he bright red blood wasn’t lost on him. “Thanks, Dad!”
Kate sighed. “Connor, you know that’s not a good idea. I’m sure the new people will have clothes of their own. Most will come with at least some form of their own supplies.”
Gabriel came over and poked his sister in the ribs, making her wince in imaginary pain. “What do you need more fabric for? Your closet is overstuffed as it is.”
“I was thinking for the other people.”
He rolled his eyes. “Uh huh…Harper, you don’t need a dress in every color of the rainbow.”
“Don’t you have a piece of metal to screw into an engine or something?”
“Close enough,” he said with a grin. “Maybe all your dresses can tell you.”
The sun was starting to set on the farm, and Poe asked if Harper could help her put the cows back in the barn. The door had sliding hinges that had rusted with time, so it took two people to push it open. Connor watched as they ran over to the back door, threw it open, and raced each other down the steps. Poe’s long black hair was tied into a tight ponytail and stayed against her back as they ran, while Harper’s long waves flowed behind her freely as both girls increased their speed. Small holes in Poe’s jeans had ripped open to the size of a baby’s fist, exposing the pale flesh on the back of her calves. It was unnatural how much time she spent in her room, reading herself into eye-strain and the occasional migraine. Always on the other end of the spectrum, Harper had taken on a bronzed summer glow, same as her mother, and couldn’t seem to take enough pictures of herself floating face up in the pond as she found shapes in the clouds that floated over her head.
As Gabriel started to head toward the door, Connor put his arm around his wife. “Son, take your keys with you. You know I don’t like having the door unlocked after dark.”
“Dad, this place is a fortress. I—”
“Do it.”
Gabriel sighed. “Fine. Whatever.” He grabbed another apple before returning to the garage, slamming the door a little louder than usual. A few seconds later, they heard the radio as it blared some overly-screaming heavy metal band that Connor didn’t think he’d heard before, but wouldn’t recognize anyway.
Connor felt his wife looking at him. “What?”
She smiled warmly. “He’s just trying to be independent. That’s all. It’s kind of difficult in our situation. They missed all that teenager-spreading-your-wings-my-parents-know-nothing stuff.”
“You want to be somewhere else?”
“Of course not. I’m just saying that our children are older now and they aren’t going to have the normal chances to become individuals and have their own opinions like other people. That’s just the nature of our situation.”
Connor scoffed. “Well, getting to skip curfew or go to prom won’t teach them to stay alive. We know who lives in town, and our children are definitely not missing out.” He looked at his wife and realized his tone was harsher than he’d meant it to be. Her jovial expression had been replaced by one more serious, more willing to be complacent to avoid continuing the discussion. He hated himself when he caused that look on her face. “I’m sorry. I know you’re right.” He pulled her into an embrace. That was something he prided himself on; at least with her, he was always willing to say I’m sorry.
Ever since they had met when they were teenagers, Kate smelled like laundry soap and walnuts. He inhaled the fresh, familiar scent, and let her blonde hair tickle his nose. With her in his arms, and his kids home and safe, he had everything he could ever want. No matter who potentially joined them, it would always be their house, their family home that, if he had his way, his children would always call their own. Strangers would always be strangers. They would serve their own purpose, and that was all—just tools that were useful in their own ways, tools that could be thrown out if necessary. “Just right now…this is what we’ve been preparing for their whole lives. And very soon, it’s going to be knocking on our doorstep. We can’t ruin everything we’ve worked for because he lets his guard down.”
He heard Kate’s voice, mildly muffled against his chest. “I know. It’s just hard on them sometimes.”
Poe and Harper returned from outside, shutting the door behind them. There was an elaborate series of thick metal locks, and they shut each one carefully. At times, Connor wished the view he had through the windows downstairs could be left uninterrupted by the iron bars that ran on the outside of them. But he knew better. So instead he would have to settle for always enjoying their surroundings from his and Kate’s bedroom window. Since it was on the highest floor with no roof access points, Connor had left the view free. “The cows are tucked in tight,” Poe said. “Abby, Bailey, and Crete are at the far end, furthest from the door.”
“Why do you name them? You know you’ll have to eat them eventually,” Harper said, looking at her sister with a mix of pity and annoyance.
“Yeah, but until then, doesn’t everybody deserve a name?” With a shrug, Poe started to go upstairs, head hanging low at the thought of eating her friends. Harper followed close behind.
“Hold on a minute, girls.” Connor pulled out two leather-covered stools that rested against the kitchen island. “Sit.”
“What is it, Dad?” Harper asked. Kate looked at him too, as if she had the same question.
“I just wanted to go over some things with you.” The three women in his life looked at him with confusion. He took a moment to ponder the fact that though his and Poe’s eyes were the same color, where Kate’s and Harper’s matched, all three of his girls’ eyes had the same shape: big and doe-like, innocent. It was his job to protect them from being hunted.
Kate spoke first. “Honey, we’ve gone over this several times. The girls know the rules.”
“Yes, but we’ve never had to put them into practice before.” He turned to his daughters. “I know it’s been a long time since we’ve been around them. It may seem tempting to make them all your new friends, to trust them. After all, you were so young when we stopped going into town. Time heals wounds but sometimes that isn’t a good thing. It makes you soft. Remember who they are, and why we stayed here in the first place.” He gently reached out and brushed both their cheeks. “This is our home. What we do with anyone on the outside must be in line with our only goal: protecting our family.”
Harper sighed. “We know, Dad.” A smile spread across her face. “Besides, all I need is Brian and I’ll be happy.” She didn’t seem to realize that her relationship with him wouldn’t last past the power going out.
Brian was a boy that Harper had met on the internet. Connor didn’t like her getting too attached to people from the outside, especially someone none of them had ever met, but Kate had convinced him that the girls needed some form of social interaction, even if it was just in front of a computer screen. “Eventually, the girls will need to know how to talk to a boy other than their brother,” she had said. “How are they ever supposed to get married?”
Connor knew he would be perfectly happy if they never did. His family would remain intact, all under one roof, free from all the evils of the world. They would never experience what they saw on the news every day: a drunk driver taking the life of an innocent, a loved one catching an incurable illness while trying to help someone else. Harper would never fall victim to the honey-coated words that boys her age said to get beautiful girls like her into bed. Poe would never suffer through the venom that teenagers can spew when they encounter someone different and smarter than them. She’d been on the receiving end of enough nastiness when she was younger, the kind made worse by youth and inexperience.
They would never suffer, and they would never be betrayed.
“Just make sure you don’t tell him about us, about what we have here. No one who doesn’t already know needs to hear about it. Especially now.”
Harper gave Connor a kiss on the cheek, her long eyelashes fluttering. “Okay, Dad.” She looked over at her sister. “Poe and I are going to go up to our room. I’m teaching her how t
o play poker.”
“Where did you learn that from?”
Harper just grinned, running upstairs with her twin. Connor and Kate shuddered as they heard the door slam shut. “She’s got to stop that,” Kate said.
Connor grabbed her hand. “Come with me, I have something to show you.”
He guided Kate to the outside edge of their property. Next to a section of their fence of impenetrable plant life that served as backup for their walls—bushes with thorns as long as thimbles—he had planted a flower garden several years back. Since everything else on their land had a functional purpose, he thought it would be nice to have something whose only job was to bring more beauty into the world.
And of course, keep the pollinators on their land.
He led her to the middle of the garden. They strolled in amongst greens, yellows, pinks, and reds, flowers as fat as a baby’s cheeks. As he held her hand, he noticed her fingers were smooth, and he liked the feeling of them against his own. Evening fog floated around them, and broke apart as they walked inside it, sending the transparent mist scattering.
The flower in the middle was his favorite, his prize. It was a temperamental plant, and he had never gotten it to bloom before.
Until now.
“Oh, Connor! It’s lovely.” She gently rubbed one of its bright yellow and orange petals between her fingers. “How did you get it to bloom?”
“A magician never reveals his secrets.” He winked at her. “But it was a new combination of ingredients in the fertilizer.”
“A-ha!” They stared at it for a moment as they wrapped themselves in each other’s arms. Kate started to speak again but paused, though she eventually giving into the question resting on her tongue. “We have enough weapons, right?” Kate sighed, and Connor could feel her wanting to glance back at the house, as if their lives could change at any moment, and probably would.
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