“Gone where?”
“I don't know—maybe they had a house back in the city? Maybe they had family they needed to take care of or something.”
“Could be. I hope... “ Lynn stopped and looked puzzled. “I don't know what I hope. I was going to say that I hoped they made it back to the city okay, but then I was going to say I hoped they made it back here okay. Which one do you think is best?”
“No way to tell, Lynn. I'm here and here seems okay right now. From what I've heard of the city, it doesn't sound okay.”
The two walked on. After some time, Kelly and Jess came bumping along atop the cart, heading back toward the Johnson's.
“Dad and Dennis got the well fixed!” Jess called, obviously proud of their accomplishment. “No more latrines. We can flush in comfort right into the septic tank.”
“Now that's some of the best news I've heard in ages,” Emma rejoiced. “Did you get the stuff put away?”
“Nope, just unloaded out front. We left everybody else home to haul it in, except Jared of course. We high-tailed it back here to get you and the rest.”
Emma glanced up at the rapidly setting sun. “We still have two more loads to fetch. Dang, I'm tired.” Her face looked drawn.
Chapter 9
The morning light bouncing off the steep mountainsides woke Kelly. She groaned and rolled over, not quite ready to face the day, but rose and dressed in her best cowhand outfit. She brushed her long blond hair, putting it into a loose ponytail at the nape of her neck.
The house was quiet. She stole from her room and headed for the kitchen, but when she reached the living room, she was greeted by Jared's voice.
“Morning, beautiful.”
“Morning yourself, han—huh, huh,” she stopped before she could complete the word handsome and feigned a half-cough to cover the last syllable. “Did you sleep well?”
“I've slept on many couches in my time and this one is, by far, the most comfortable,” he said. His response was too overly enthusiastic to be true.
“I know that couch, and you're full of it,” she said as she watched him struggle stiffly into a sitting position.
“Yeah, it's your mom's house, I daresay you do.”
“I'm sorry,” Kelly said. “The sleeping quarters are a little tight around here at the moment. I'd say that you could go to the men's quarters shortly, but I don't think they have any better digs for you up at Rich's place.” Besides, I like having you here, she thought to herself.
“The scenery is better here.” Jared kept himself covered as he sat on the couch. He stretched gingerly and gave a big yawn. Kelly averted her gaze, worrying that the sheet might shift during such a maneuver. “Could you do a guy a favor and hand him his pants?”
Without speaking, Kelly got the jeans, plaid shirt and socks that lay on the end table and tossed them in a stack next to Jared. “I'll step out now.” She smiled.
“You're welcome to stay,” Jared said, raising an eyebrow.
Kelly ran her hand through her hair as she stepped into the kitchen.
Dressing as quickly as he could, struggling with every piece of clothing, Jared followed her. He walked up behind her and put his good arm around her waist. Sliding in closer, he nuzzled her neck. She stood still, holding a kettle of water over the sink.
“Take a walk with me, Kelly,” he asked in a voice that was a little huskier than he had intended.
Kelly allowed herself to lean back into him, standing quietly for a few seconds, then wriggled from his embrace. She still felt a little uncomfortable about Jared's forwardness. On the other hand, it made her feel sexy and beautiful, the way she had with... she didn't let her mind continue. Jared's warmth drew her to him.
“I'd love to go on that walk with you,” she said, “but let's have a little coffee and get that shoulder looked at first.”
Kelly helped Jared off with his shirt. She lifted the dressings to find that his entrance wound was diminishing in size. It had a hearty ring of whitish scar tissue encroaching on a soft, healthy looking center. “Good, no drainage,” she said.
“Now that's romantic.”
“It is, if you're a nurse.”
She cleaned both wounds with soap and water. The exit wound, on the back of the shoulder, had just the tiniest open area to one side of the quarter-sized scar. “These look really good. Your healing has been remarkable.”
“Because I've had the three best nurses in the whole world, if you count Lynn, and I do,” Jared said, smiling broadly. “If it looks so good, why does it still hurt so much? I can't move it worth sh—crap.”
“You can swear, Mr. Malloy, if the situation moves you.”
“No. No one else around here swears except maybe Rich, and he curtails it around the women. I'm not in a locker room; I can too.”
“As you like. I'm not encouraging it, mind you.” Kelly gave a quick grin, then went into patient teaching mode. “The sugar has been keeping the skin clean and allowing it to heal, but all of the underlying structures have to heal too. Your muscles, tendons, and whatever else that bullet ripped through will take longer to repair than skin. Having it in that sling has limited your motion. I'd say with a little time and some physical therapy, you should make a full recovery.”
“Well, I should hope so,” Jared said, his voice hearty. “There's a ton of work to be done around here and I have been a burden long enough.”
“Don't be silly,” Kelly said. “We all know why you haven't been able to help. I think everyone here is glad to know that we work as a team and that they won't be abandoned if they need help at some point.”
Kelly took Jared's left arm and raised his elbow slowly until he winced. “Oh, sorry about that,” she said. “I know it's sore. You can start stretching these muscles a couple of times a day. Once you have mobility back, we'll have to work on strength.”
Kelly moved her left arm up and back as far as she could over her head, demonstrating full range of motion. She moved close to him and manipulated his arm into several different stretches, mimicking the physical therapists she had seen working with patients in the field hospital. Jared felt Kelly's breath on his shoulder, slipped his good arm around her waist and pulled her closer.
“I'll be running the physical therapy sessions around here, not you,” Kelly said with the slightest hint of fake exasperation. She playfully pushed his arm away from her waist. “Now, put your bum arm up here so I can put your sling on.”
“Y-e-s, n-u-r-s-e,” he said, drawing the words out just to tease her.
Kelly folded a large, clean square of fabric into a triangle and then tied the two ends together at his neck, fashioning the sling. “Nice,” she said, admiring her work. “I think you'll be out of that in a couple of weeks if you continue healing this fast and do your physical therapy.”
The coffee boiled on the stove and was soon dispensed into two coffee mugs from the drain board.
“Now, let me tell you about your exercises...” Kelly said. She could tell that Jared was trying to pay attention to her therapy descriptions, but his gaze drifted from her mouth to her hair to her hands. It unnerved and thrilled her all at the same time.
“Yes, nurse,” Jared said again as Kelly seemed to complete the lesson. “Now how about that walk you promised me?”
Without skipping a beat, Kelly stood and said, “Okay, I'm ready. Do you need anything besides your boots?” She had her hands on her hips, waiting for a reply.
The expression on Jared's face was one of surprise. “No, no, that should do it. Right now?”
“Sure, why not?”
Jared tipped his head to one side and raised his eyebrows. “Sure, why not?”
They both went into the living room, where Jared sat in the big wooden chair closest to the front door. Kelly got his newly acquired cowboy boots from the rug and slipped them on his feet, but she knew that it would take more effort to get them fully over his heels. She pulled and pushed without success.
Frustrated, she finally appr
aised the situation and mumbled, “Well, this won't be very lady...” She straddled Jared's leg facing his foot and taking the tabs on either side of the upper boot, pulled until she felt a pop as the boot slipped fully onto Jared's foot.
“Nice view,” Jared said.
“Careful mister,” Kelly shot back.
“Just the truth, ma'am, just the truth,” Jared said in an exaggerated western drawl. Kelly laughed and then proceeded with the second boot.
After both boots were on, she excused herself. She slipped into the bathroom, brushed her teeth and conducted a final inspection in the mirror. She rustled her hair with her fingers until she thought it looked tousled enough to be sexy, then went to her room. Taking her gun from the nightstand, she wrapped the gunbelt around her waist, then fastened the buckle. The belt rested at the widest part of her hips, showing off her curves. The brown leather matched her cowboy boots perfectly. Kelly caught a glimpse of herself in the dresser mirror as she was leaving her bedroom and smiled confidently.
“I've always liked a filly with a nice revolver,” Jared said, smiling as she reentered the living room.
By the time they left the small house, the sun was fully up and the day was warm, but not yet hot. Together they walked down the driveway, east toward the creek. Trees lined the drive and dappled the pair in filtered sunlight. Jared took Kelly's hand and gave it a squeeze.
“Do you think life will ever resemble anything like before?” Jared asked.
“It's hard to say. After seeing Mesa and Fountain Hills firsthand, it's hard to imagine everything going back to normal. I can't imagine living in town for even a few days in that condition.”
“I'm a very lucky man,” Jared said. He paused. “Just think about it, Kel. That gunshot should have become infected and killed me. Even if it hadn't, I would have been fending for myself in a city of four million people with a bad arm and no means of survival. Instead, I was whisked to this little paradise to be among people who have the skills and equipment to take care of themselves and me too. I won the evolutionary lottery—I get to live.”
“Don't sell yourself short, mister. I know you're injured now, but your tactical knowledge may be very useful to our little group. We also need manual labor, and you can learn other ways to help. I'm not so sure that all of us put together have enough skills or supplies to make it through this, whatever this is. It's true we're better off than most, but our supplies won't last forever. We can't grow enough food in this”—Kelly searched for the words—, “semi-desert area to support eight people.”
“Why not? We have water, gardens, rabbits and chickens, even cows. And look at these trees.” Jared motioned to the towering sycamores.
“This canyon has a small trickle of water, about six inches across, almost year round, making it a desert oasis. I've loved this place since we camped here when I was a kid. I think that's why Mom bought up here; she liked it too.”
“I can see why,” Jared sighed contentedly.
“It's always been a struggle making things work here, though. We have two growing seasons, but they're short; we can only grow in the spring until it gets too hot for the plants to produce in June, and then again from late August until the first frost in December. The ground is very rocky and needs augmentation—you know, compost and fertilizer.”
“I'm not sure we have much choice other than to make it work,” Jared said. “Where there's a will, there's a way.”
“I hope you're right.”
They made their way down a steep bank into the nearly dry creek bed, lined with huge boulders fallen from the surrounding cliffs.
“Wow, look at the size of these things,” Jared said, pointing at the boulders. “How did they all get in the creek?”
“Flash floods. When the monsoon comes, the rain rushes down the sides of these mountains, loosening boulders and pushing everything down into the canyon here. Our rocky soil repels water instead of soaking it up.”
“Yeah, I've seen it and you do have some impressive storms,” he agreed. “Growing up in Michigan, it all just soaked in. I thought it was like that everywhere.”
“Summer, with its monstrous storms, is my favorite time of year,” Kelly said, smiling. “I love the monsoons. The clouds explode in the afternoon into huge towers of white, and blue curtains of rain fall from their bottoms. You can see the thunderheads for miles and miles.”
“You make it sound wonderful, but I equate the monsoons with calls for service. You know, alarm systems being set off, power being knocked out, water roiling in the roads.” He grinned.
“True, but we need the moisture.”
“Arizona is something else. I never could figure out why it only rains like that in the summer.”
“The temperatures get so high here that it creates a basin of low pressure over the entire region. Humid air is literally sucked northward from the Pacific Ocean to the southwest, and the gulf of Mexico to the southeast.”
“Yeah, I've noticed the humidity gets unbearable in July, then the rains start.”
“In the afternoon, when we're about 105 to 115 degrees, hot columns of air rise off the desert floor, pushing the moisture into the higher atmosphere.” Kelly made great sweeps with her hands skyward.
“That would account for the HUGE clouds with the flat bottoms.”
“Yes, and it's colder the higher you go up. The vapor condenses into clouds, then pours rain.”
“Wow, a meteorologist too—multitalented.”
“All of us Arizona kids learned that stuff in grade school. Not being from here, you missed it.”
Jared motioned for Kelly to climb onto a large boulder. It was as big as a VW Bug and had a flat surface where it had been sheared in half during its fall from the cliff above. Kelly climbed up first, then reached down to Jared and pulled him up.
The two stood there hand in hand, the light breeze blowing through their hair, leaves rustling above them. The morning was getting hotter and Kelly unbuttoned her long-sleeved shirt, revealing her tank top. She hunched her shoulders and eased the shirt down both arms.
“What's that?” Jared said, shocked to see the large bandage covering her right upper arm.
“War wounds.”
His eyebrows furrowed into a concerned frown.
“I might have left out some of the details about the hospital fire.” Kelly raised her eyebrows, gazed to the right and tried to look angelic. “It's nothing, just some scratches. Nothing as bad as yours, anyway.”
“You wouldn't have that bandaged for this many days if it were just scratches.”
“Okay, I'll tell you. No reason for secrets is there?”
“No, but you don't owe me an explanation, if you don't want to. I'm not prying.”
“Of course not, we're friends.” Kelly filled Jared in on all of the details of her “war wounds.”
“You never told me you got hurt during all that.”
“Didn't seem important at the time. Mom's looking after me, and they're healing. You had your own 'war wounds' to worry about.”
“You're probably right. I wasn't in much shape to help, and I would have worried about you. I promise I'll start worrying about you now, though. Your trip to Fountain Hills the other day just about killed me, you know.”
“It did?”
“Of course it did. I don't know why, Kel, but you mean more to me than you know. I can't explain it.”
Kelly gave him a smile, then her face turned more serious. “There's something important I need to talk to you about, if we're ever going to be more to each other than just friends,” she said. She closed her eyes and breathed deeply, summoning the courage to tell Jared about... Peter.
“Go ahead...”
“Jared,” Kelly said pensively. “I need to talk to you about us—about me, I mean.”
“Are you ready to share that? You don't have to.” Jared turned his gaze away, but tightened his grip on her hand.
Without having to look him in the eyes, Kelly felt more free to speak. “
I am,” she said. She raised her face toward the sky, staunching tears, and stood silent for a few seconds. “His name was...” she began.
Jared cocked his head to one side; Kelly could see it out of the corner of her eye. He was asking the question, was? as clearly as if he had spoken it out loud.
“Was Peter,” she started again. “He was a co-worker of mine—more than a co-worker—and he died.”
Kelly looked up at Jared, who sat absolutely motionless and expressionless, waiting for her to continue.
“We were seeing each other, in Afghanistan, I mean—it was a 'deployment romance.' He was a corpsman, assigned to our clinic on a forward operating base, or FOB. It started innocently enough: close brushes while working in tight spaces, comments about my hair. I loved the attention, and then it just happened. One night, after a routine emergency and replenishment of a returning team's medical bags, he and I went to midnight chow at the DFAC. There were maybe ten people in the place and he started flirting with me, something I didn't expect. His confidence was a turn-on, and the fact that he was way junior to me made it more so. Our relationship continued; professional during the day and physical after hours. This lasted and we grew closer.”
Kelly glanced up again to see if Jared looked distressed. Maybe she should stop?
“Go ahead,” he urged softly.
“One day, one of the units we supported needed an extra medic to go 'outside the wire,' to meet with an Afghan tribal chief in a village about twenty kilometers away. Peter had always expressed his wish for more 'gun time' and as a Navy corpsman, felt he should be seeing more action than taking care of the whiny FOB-bound troops. His leadership gave the okay, and onto the trucks he went. I didn't give much thought to it until a voice cracked over the Command Net, which we monitored in the clinic: 'FOX BASE, this is FOX SIX, we're comin' in by ground hot with three wounded, one critical. We'll need a helicopter. Request dustoff ready, have a med team meet us at the front gate past the blast walls, time NOW.”
Post Grid: An Arizona EMP Adventure Page 15