He tensed up. Staying locked on his lips, Naomi leaned into him until she was on top of him on the cold floor.
Her heart thumped.
His breathing quickened.
She removed her shirt.
He embraced her.
She let him roll on top.
He gently caressed her cheeks with the back of his fingers.
She moaned.
They spent the night under the flickering glow of the lantern light.
Morning sun spilled through the house’s windows.
Naomi took one of the family photos off the wall. It showed her six-year-old self and eleven-year-old Allen handling a snake at the reptile farm. Naomi cracked a smile.
His final words echoed in her mind. “Survive, sis.”
Naomi put the photo back and headed outside.
The sunset was brilliant over their fifteen acres of farmland. In the distance, a wall of snow-capped mountain peaks reached toward the deep blue sky. Warming her gloved hands in her pockets, Naomi joined her father in the stables as they brushed the proud Friesian.
George smiled warmly at Naomi. “I’ve been waiting for you to come out here.”
“That so?” Naomi asked and gestured for the brush.
George stepped aside and let her groom the majestic dark animal. “His name is Troy.”
Naomi smiled at the horse. “Hey, Troy. Cold in here, isn’t it?”
She brushed her hand against his hair. The horse munched away at an apple. Juan went to tend to one of the other mares.
“How long have you had him?” Naomi asked her father.
“Two years,” George said.
“Has it really been that long since I visited?” Naomi asked.
George’s mouth made a line on his face as he nodded.
Naomi approached the horse’s front. It rested its head on her shoulder.
George smiled. “He likes you.”
“What was it you used to say? Horses can sense pain.”
“They’re therapeutic animals,” George said matter-of-factly.
Naomi brushed Troy. “You have a saddle?”
George grinned. “Wait here.”
Naomi stayed with Troy until he returned. He slung the saddle over the horse and set it in place.
“You still remember how to ride?” George asked.
“A country girl never forgets,” Naomi replied. She hoisted herself up and slipped her feet into the stirrups.
George opened the gate, and Troy proudly exited. The snow crunched lightly beneath its hooves.
George wore a beaming smile. “Look at you go!”
Troy made a few circles around the yard.
“Mind if I take him out?” Naomi asked.
“As long as you bring him back,” replied George.
He opened the gate. Troy moved out of the pen and into freedom.
“Yah!” Naomi said and let the horse run free.
It raced over thin snow and darted to the faraway mountains.
“Faster!”
Its legs thundered ahead, gaining more speed by the moment. The muscles beneath its black fur shifted with every powerful movement. Naomi held tightly to the reins and let the horse run wild. The icy wind cut against Naomi’s face and sent blonde hair streaming behind her. Knuckles went white the tighter she held. Her eyes watered from the chilly weather, but she told Troy to go faster.
The horse joyfully obeyed. Soon her father’s farmhouse was the size of a matchbox in her wake.
Going through the wilderness, Naomi watched the house completely vanish behind her. She zipped through the neighbor's frostbitten hayfields, releasing all her fears to the wind. She and the horse moved as one as they kept racing to the mountains.
Eventually, Troy slowed down into a trot. Naomi took a breather of her own. She looked out the vast country surrounding her and wondered why she ever left.
She returned home in no particular rush. She freshened up and spent the rest of the day helping her parents clean the house and take care of the farm. Late in the afternoon, Calvin pulled her aside in the hallway.
“Naomi,” he said firmly.
“I know,” she replied. “This is our last night. Okay?”
Calvin nodded in compromise.
Naomi looked him in the eyes. “Promise me you’ll get some rest.”
“I will.”
“You’re a bad liar.”
Juan and Mary prepared another wonderful meal that night. The nearby furnace radiated heat through the house. After grace, Naomi tore into her food, knowing that she’d be living on rations soon enough.
Juan enjoyed his tender chicken thigh. “I heard some news today.”
Everyone slowed down to listen.
“When I was trading with the other farmers, they talked about a group of…” Juan searched for the right word. “Attackers.”
Naomi furrowed her brow in misunderstanding.
Juan continued. “They’ve attacked farms. Hurt owners. Made them pay taxes.”
“That’s the IRS for you,” George said.
“George, you know that’s inappropriate talk,” Mary replied.
George shrugged. “This is the government we’re talking about. Anything is possible. Just saying.”
“What kind of taxes?” Calvin asked.
“Milk. Chickens. Eggs,” Juan explained. “Those who didn’t give were killed.”
“Oh,” George said very seriously.
Juan gave him a reassuring nod. “I’ll protect you, George.”
“Thanks, Juan.”
Naomi took a sip of well water. It tasted a little dirtier than normal. “Did you learn any more about these people?”
“Their leader’s name is Logan.”
Naomi’s heart twisted.
The color vanished from Calvin’s face.
Mary noticed their stunned reactions. “You know this man?”
“He’s the one who…” Calvin’s voice trailed off.
Mary gasped.
George’s face grew stern and serious. “And he’s not stopping.”
Juan looked into Naomi’s eyes. “I heard there is a group of people who are fighting back. They say he’d killed a lot of strong ones, so the women and elderly are standing up to him, but there are many.”
Naomi felt her morale swell inside her.
“Did they say where they are?” she asked.
7
Community
All sleep escaped her and Calvin. After they made love, they lay back thinking about the community. Juan had a general idea of where they were located: a town called Eagleton. Naomi found it curious that the rumor had details about the rebels’ whereabouts. Perhaps it was a code word they’d used to evade Logan.
The next morning, Naomi got dressed in a heavy winter jacket fit for a rugged farmer, a beanie, winter pants, and boots. Calvin put on a thick and heavy tan jacket, dark jeans, and a trucker’s cap. As they headed out the front door, Mary gave them a basket full of food rations: jerky, dried berries, etc. Naomi said that she loved them and headed to the Rover. The snow on the ground had begun to melt into dirty patches like boils on the earth’s crust.
Keeping her assault weapon close by, Naomi climbed into the passenger seat and waved her parents goodbye.
They set off down the winding roads. The country blurred in a mix of green and white. With the map open on her lap, Naomi co-piloted. The way to Eagleton took them back in the direction of Allen’s house. Eventually they passed the sign, reading “Welcome to Eagleton. Population: 302.”
Rows of buildings stood on the fringes of crisscrossing roads. There were welcome mats on every doorstep. No barred windows. No signs of forced entry. It was eerily quiet. A shadow moved within a nearby house. Window curtains ruffled in another.
Naomi told Calvin to stop.
She scanned the town. Shapes moved behind frosted windows.
Directly ahead, a few men approached. Four of them were between the ages of twenty and thirty. They had police ba
tons on the waist, and one actually wore a uniform. A fifth man followed behind them. When the wall of men stopped, the one at the back stepped through them. He was a man with hair as white as snow and a spade-shaped beard.
“Howdy,” the friendly man said. He walked with a comfortable strut. His eyes were kind and his smile was welcoming. “The name is Brian Johnston. I’m the mayor here. But no need to be so formal. Just call me Brian,” the mayor said. He turned back. “Come now. We’ll talk in my office.”
Calvin kept his pistol stowed just beneath his seat. “What’s your gut telling you?”
“To tread carefully,” Naomi said lightly.
“Want to turn back?” Calvin asked.
“No,”
Slowly, Calvin rolled the Rover farther down the road. He pulled up parallel to Brian.
“Point us in the right direction and we’ll meet you there,” Naomi said, putting on her best friendly smile.
The man gestured to the town hall building.
Calvin parked beside it. He kept the key close. “You want me to watch the car?”
“No. Come with me,” Naomi said. “I’d rather do this as a team.”
They waited on the steps of the quaint government building. Naomi kept her gun slung over her shoulder. Calvin kept his tucked in the back lip of his pants. A moment later, they saw Brian and his posse approaching. Naomi had to assume they’d hidden their guns under their jackets. “We get as much information as we can,” Naomi whispered to Calvin. “The moment we find that they’re not being truthful, we leave.”
Brian marched past them to the door. His cronies stayed behind them two paces. Brian held the door and made a sweeping gesture to allow them to enter. Naomi and Calvin stepped into the cold entrance hall.
“Don’t let the chill deter you,” Brian said and moved past to the next double doors.
A wave of heat blasted over them from the two fireplaces going off on either side of the room. Brian smiled widely. “The first mayor of Eagleton was known for being eccentric when he built this place. He put a fireplace in nearly every room except the entrance hall. He liked to keep his critics waiting out there. He called it The Freezer.” Brian chuckled to himself. “Don’t worry, I’m not that type of mayor.”
He sat behind a large desk with large plaques on the wall behind him. He folded his hands on the large wooden desktop and looked at them expectantly. His brows rose at a sudden realization. “Oh, food. Jim!” He shouted out of the slightly ajar door. “Get Kimmy to make our guests some snacks! You two have any allergies?”
Naomi and Calvin shook their heads.
Brian extended his hand to Calvin. “Brian.”
“Calvin.”
“Glad to have you here. This town could use a brainiac,” Brian said.
Calvin eyed him skeptically. “Thanks…”
“You have the look about you. I see those eyes. Always analyzing. Besides, I’m good at reading people.” Brian swiveled Naomi’s way. “And you are…?”
“Naomi.” She shook his hand.
He had very soft hands. She wouldn’t be surprised if he’d worked at a desk his whole life. A beautiful twenty-something-year-old woman wearing fashionable winter attire walked in with a tray of snacks. Crackers, frozen mini-carrots, and ranch dip.
She winked at Calvin. “Enjoy.”
He fought to not look back at her as she left.
Brian leaned in and whispered. “That’s Hannah. She’s a sweetheart, ain’t she?”
Naomi smiled formally at him. “Brian. We appreciate the hospitality, but we’re here for a very specific reason. You ever heard of a man named Logan?”
“I’ve heard enough,” Brian said dismissively.
“He took my daughter,” Naomi said, unable to keep the passion out of her voice. “I heard Eagleton was standing against him.”
Brian chuckled. “Ever play the telephone game as a kid? You tell someone something and they have to repeat it to someone else, and by the time it reaches the tenth person, it's completely different than what you started with.”
Naomi stared at him blankly. “So you’re not stopping Logan?”
“I’m protecting my people,” Brian said. “Logan offers that protection.”
Naomi tensed up. She traded anxious looks with Calvin.
Brian noticed. “Don’t look so pale. I’m a gracious host. No one's going to hurt you.”
“I didn’t expect they would until you said that,” Calvin remarked.
Naomi frowned heavily.
Brian took a deep breath. “Look, I give him supplies. He gives me supplies. We barter. You toting a machine gun around and saying Logan has your daughter is bad for business.”
Naomi got ready to unsling the rifle.
Calvin slowly wrapped his fingers around the pistol grip jutting from the back lip of his pants.
Brian put his palms out in a non-threatening manner. “If I was some Bond Villain, I’d send in my evil henchmen to take you captive, but this is the real world, Mr. and Mrs. Baxter. When I see the two of you, I don’t see enemies. I see allies.”
“How so?” Calvin said cautiously.
“Heard the expression, many hands equals light work? That’s what we do here in Eagleton. There’s always work for people like you. Housing, too.” Brian said.
“It doesn’t change the fact that you’re working with a murderer,” Calvin said.
Brian put on his best fake smile. “What you went through is horrible. No parent should have to lose their child.”
Naomi glared at him. “We know where she is.”
Brian set his jaw for a moment before putting on a diplomatic face. “Throughout human history, most benevolent rulers still negotiated with their uncouth neighbors. It doesn’t mean that the benevolent rulers condoned their ally’s actions, but both sides understand that peace was better than war.”
“Logan is killing farmers living around here,” Calvin exclaimed.
“That’s out of my jurisdiction,” Brian said as if he had no choice in the matter.
There was a knock on the door. Hannah stepped in. “Gretta wants to talk to you, Mayor.”
“Thank you, darling.”
Hannah blushed and stepped out.
Brian looked at the Baxters. “I’d like the two of you to stay in Eagleton for the day. See our community and how we function. Spend some time having fun. All I ask is that you don’t go shooting anyone.” He stood up and straightened out his jacket. As he headed for the door, he said. “Stay put. I’ll be back soon.”
Brian left the office door slightly ajar, revealing his guard standing outside, his back to them. Brian’s footsteps vanished into the hallway. Naomi and Calvin waited until it was quiet. They traded cautionary looks and got out of their seats. Moving quietly, Calvin hunkered by the door while Naomi dashed around the desk.
She tried the drawers. Locked.
Calvin kept an eye out.
Naomi looked over yhe documents on the desk. Under a few loose pieces of papers, she found a comprehensive journal. It listed a series of dates, starting from mid-January, when the EMP erupted. It described the general chaos and how Brian and the local police kept the peace. The next few days involved rationing. By the end of the first week, supplies started going missing. They arrested three potential suspects, but the thieving continued. On day eleven, a group of strangers arrived in town. One of them was named Logan. He had a woman with him named Selena. Selena, Naomi thought to herself. I knew I was close to guessing her name. There were a few other individuals that didn’t reveal themselves. When the police went to speak to them, Logan’s crew shot them dead. A few other people went out to confront him, but were also killed.
Logan took captives. He claimed that no one else would die if they traded their weapons for food and protection. To prevent any more problems, Brian had the townspeople surrender their weapons to Logan. Pleased with them, Logan let the captives go. He stayed in town for a few days to establish dominance before leaving one night without say
ing a word. On day twenty-one, he returned for food provisions and asked about anyone who wanted to harm them. Brian welcomed him. He had not been back since, but everyone was awaiting his return. The journal continued with more daily updates.
A familiar voice sounded in the hallway.
Calvin mouthed, “He’s coming.”
Naomi quickly hid the journal back under the papers. She and Calvin both returned to their chairs, acting as normal as possible.
Brian walked in a second later. He moved around the desk and grabbed one of the mini-carrots. He dunked it in the ranch dip and took a loud bite. “I love these things.” He smiled widely at them. “You two ready for the grand tour?”
“Sure,” Naomi said with hesitation.
Brian took a few more carrots for the road and led them to the door. A few of his cronies joined them as they stepped out into the brisk winter air. Brian breathed it in. “Would it be too much to ask you to put your weapons away?”
“We’re keeping them,” Naomi said, leaving no room for negotiation.
Brian showed his discomfort with a small frown before heading down the steps. Naomi and Calvin followed him.
They toured through the streets. Brian pointed at different houses. “That’s Gretta’s house. She takes care of supply. The Peters live over there and help filter water. Don’t ask me how, but they found a way. Across from them is the Cox family. They are great chefs…” he continued, telling brief vignettes of the various families. It was always a good report, with some humanity mixed in along with the role they fulfilled in the community. They had farmers, scouts, organizers, an event coordinator, watchmen, and the rest of what was needed to keep the town running.
They passed by an old steeple. Outside, a number of children played in the snow. A short, skinny woman with a mop of grey hair and friendly yet somewhat pitying smile on the steps watched the children. Despite her plain attire and somewhat forgettable face, there was something sage-like about her. She fit into the community like an aged tree: wise, knowing, and rooted. Her eyes followed Naomi as they walked down the sidewalk.
“That’s Ms. Banks,” Brian pointed out. “She looks after the young ones and orphans.”
Aftermath (Book 2): Aftermath Page 7