by Toby Neal
Dad
The rally has attracted a decent-sized crowd, nothing compared to what I used to get during campaign season, but considering the decimated population, I’m impressed.
Grimesville doesn’t live up to its name. While the buildings are old, they’re well-preserved. The town square is festive with immaculately mowed grass and a sturdy stage decorated with American flags. They’ve got lights, speakers, and a microphone: everything you need to communicate to the masses.
Including great orators.
Billy, who seems to be an informal mayor of the town, is out on stage now. A tall, broad man with a dark beard and warm brown eyes, he greeted me with a hug and a slap on the back. I’m backstage with the other two town leaders, a leathery man named Jeb and a feisty woman named Maud, who runs the inn where we’re staying. All three of them greeted the Luciano party like long-lost loved ones when we arrived.
Billy’s fervent about the Resistance and determined that our side should win. He and Cash act like brothers, and Billy called Jolene his little sister as he wrapped her under one of his big arms and kissed the top of her head.
Cash and Jolene inspire this town, as does the Gray Man.
Roan’s guerilla fighting speaks to the anger in a lot of people—the rage that wants to turn violent. And we need that now—but not when governing later.
Jolene fidgets next to me where we stand on the side of the stage as Billy revs up the crowd. Cash loops an arm around her and she leans up to kiss his cheek. “I’m so proud of you,” she says.
“Not as proud as I am of you.” Cash looks over and catches my gaze. Think I’m ready, John?”
We’ve spent hours and hours writing and practicing his speech as Elizabeth and the rest of the Haven worked to have enough vaccine for the crowd gathered here. He’s a good writer if unpolished, but working together, I think we came up with something that will inspire. “Absolutely.”
“You’re totally prepared,” Jolene says in all seriousness.
Cash looks down at her. “You too, Sunshine. I’m so happy you decided to speak.”
We worked on her speech too, a gentler call to action than Cash’s, something that speaks to the softness in all of us—the vulnerable squishy center that just wants to find a hard shell and settle down into it.
Jolene is that soft center, out to fight for the rights of all.
“We couldn’t have done it without you, man.” Cash reaches out his hand and I shake it as a great peace settles over me. At my rallies in the past, I was always tense, nervous about how I’d do, hyperaware of the reality that I lived a lie.
Here, in this post-apocalyptic world where hate and murder are daily occurrences, I know more peace than I ever did in the world before. Maybe that’s because this world always simmered under the surface, the way the truth of my orientation underlay my alpha male persona—and to have it out in the open, to face it head-on, is the honest way to live—and love.
The crowd roars as Billy waves Cash and Jolene onto the stage. Cash takes Jolene’s hand and together they step into the lights. They raise their clasped hands, and the crowd goes wild.
Billy embraces them both. Cash steps up to the mic, opening with a funny comment that sweeps the crowd with laughter. Billy joins me off stage, his brown eyes sparkling with excitement, his grin a white slash in his dark beard. “Cash and Jolene are born leaders.”
“You have a great presence, Billy. You brought this thing together.”
“And you’re the reason Cash isn’t sounding like a complete doofus up there.” I can’t help but laugh as Billy’s eyes twinkle with humor. “Good job.” He slaps my back. “You’re a great asset to the Resistance, Senator.”
“He sure is.” Jeb says behind me. The elder statesman of the town doesn’t have Billy’s good looks or charisma, but the dedication in his dark eyes is undeniable.
Maude links her arm through mine. “Thanks for coming. I’ve never put up a senator before. I think I’ll rename your room the Senator’s Suite.” I laugh again. The tidy little room with its single bed up in the attic was the only space left for me. I might have scoffed at the lowly accommodation in the past, but I’m honored to have it named after me now. So much has changed, but everything about this event feels right. Lucy steps up next to me, pulling Roan along.
“Lucy, come on. We shouldn’t do this.” Roan’s voice is tight and husky, his eyes down. “You should be resting.”
Lucy turns on him. “Don’t make our baby an excuse for you not doing your duty.”
Roan lifts his head, red brushing the tops of his high cheekbones. He only blushes for her.
“It’s not an excuse. I want to take care of you, and I don’t want to talk about that time.”
Lucy turns and melts her body into his, fisting his shirt in her hands. “Then help the Resistance. Make sure our future is safe. Elizabeth created a vaccine to keep our baby from getting sick, I’m going to help the Sheriff and others to create laws that will protect us all, and you, Cash, and Jolene are all going to lead the movement for love and unity in this new world.”
“The Gray Man is hardly the poster boy for love. He was fueled by something entirely opposite.”
“It was your love for me that drove you.” Lucy sighs dramatically, reaching up to touch the scar on Roan’s high cheekbone. “You are love, Roan. And sometimes that leads to killing people.”
Roan laughs. I’ve only heard him do that with Lucy. He leans down and wraps her in his arms, kissing her in a way that makes me turn away. Billy catches my gaze and raises his eyebrows as we share a moment of those two.
Cash’s voice rises. “And now, let’s hear from the Gray Man himself.”
Lucy places her hands, one missing a ring finger, against Roan’s shoulder blades and pushes him onto the stage. He turns back as he steps out into the day, smiling at Lucy. His gray eyes sparkle in the sunlight, contrasting with his tawny skin and raven-black hair woven with a single eagle feather. He walks like a panther to take the stage.
The crowd’s cheers reach new heights. They’re waving signs stating: I Am the Gray Man and Love Is the Answer. As Roan approaches the mic they begin to chant. “I am the Gray Man! I am the Gray Man!”
Roan speaks just a few words. “With love we can rebuild the world.”
He steps back to a wave of cheering that seems to batter the stage. Jolene steps up to the mic. Roan’s comment was the perfect segue into her closing remarks.
“Thank you for coming today.” Her voice is steady and quiet, but infused with authenticity. You can’t fake that humility and sincerity. The crowd stills, anticipation and hope humming in its restraint. “Thank you for being here for this special day, a grand day in history. The first day of these New United States!”
The crowd cheers, their signs waving. We found a name for our party, and it’s so much better than just Resistance. We didn’t need polling data to test it out. Every time we speak the name, hope blooms on people’s faces.
“We will be able to tell our grandchildren that we stood up against hate, against tyranny, and founded a new nation built on the bones of the exceptional ideal that founded us originally: freedom and liberty for all.”
Billy’s hand lands on my shoulder. His eyes are wet…and so are mine.
“Welcome!” Jolene’s voice rings out as clear as a church bell. “To the land of the free. The home of the brave. The nation of love. Welcome to the New United States!”
She and Cash raise their clasped hands towards the heavens.
Cheers rise and turn to chanting, the anthem of a burgeoning civilization: Love, love, love.
If we’d started with that, maybe we would never have ended up here.
Chapter Forty-Five
Lucy
Roan’s fingers entwine with mine. The calluses at the base of his fingers are rough and familiar against my skin. I could stare at his capable, long-fingered hands all day, loving the way their size and tawny skin contrast with my small ones. Light and dark, smal
l and large, Lucy and Roan.
I made my wedding dress myself, with Jolene’s help—and she helped a lot, but stitching together that rabbit fur blanket awakened a new interest in sewing. Sewing’s one of those skills I never bothered with before the Scorching. Like hunting, it’s now essential.
The dress hugs my breasts, is tight to my hips, but allows plenty of room for my baby bump. Mama tried to convince me to go with an empire waist, not a cut that looks good on a figure like mine, but she wanted to hide my pregnancy.
It’s hard for her to accept that to Roan and I, there is nothing wrong or shameful about our child. I have nothing to hide, and only joyful life to celebrate.
Bringing in Phil Standing Rock to officiate was my idea. Phil stands in front of us now, his long salt-and-pepper braids resting against the tailored black jacket Jolene fitted for him. His feather headdress makes soft rustling sounds as he moves. I asked him about the headdress, and he smiled at me. “We make our own traditions, combining those of our history with the principles of today.”
As I stand here now, holding Roan’s hand before my family, friends, and Phil Standing Rock, my stomach flutters with nerves.
Phil’s voice pitches up and down as he makes a joke. The crowd gathered on the front lawn of the Haven laughs. Roan’s hand squeezes mine.
I’m feeling a new emotion.
I didn’t realize that was possible. I’m grounded in my body, and yet floating in space, all the feelings of our loved ones swirling around me like colored lights. After all I’ve been through, all the pain and loss, all the joy and happiness…I didn’t realize there could be even more.
I’m untethered and yet anchored. I am happy and joyful, yet the sorrow of all my losses is bedrock. Time both stands still and speeds up as the ceremony progresses and I gaze into my beloved’s gorgeous silver-gray eyes.
“Do you, Lucille Luciano, take Roan Winters to be your partner, your husband, the only man for you?”
Phil had asked what we wanted our vows to say, and I wrote that line. I can feel a grin splitting my face. My vow is written on my very soul. “Yes!” I yell.
I turn to the laughing crowd, looking out at my family. Mama clutches a handkerchief as she leans on the sheriff. The rest of the family is wedged tightly in the front row. Baby Joseph watches with rapt attention while Nando dozes, his hand on the neckline of Avital’s dress. Jade tugs on Luca’s hair. He’s grown it out just for her. She loves to yank it and he enjoys pretending that it hurts. No person has ever had such power over Luca.
My free hand cups my stomach, happiness and excitement and yes, a little fear making it jump and roll.
“And do you, Roan Winters, take Lucille Luciano to be a partner, your wife, the only woman for you?”
A shy smile softens Roan’s beautiful face, his eyes holding mine as tight as an embrace. “I don’t think even death can part us.” His quiet voice is a murmur that only Phil and I can hear.
“I’ll take that as a yes,” Phil says, loud enough for the crowd.
JT whoops, where he stands beside Roan. Love pulses off of him in orange-yellow waves of happiness. His best friend is marrying his sister and becoming his true brother.
When I thought about marriage before, I never considered the ceremony. My fantasies centered on me with a partner, no longer the youngest and only Luciano girl.
I always wanted to be an equal to my brothers.
But I always was. And now I have a partner who’s perfect for me.
Phil’s voice brings me back to the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle in the late summer air and the final moments of this precious ceremony.
“Lucille Luciano and Roan Winters, I now pronounce you partners for life, husband and wife.” A cheer rises up around us. “You may kiss your bride.”
“He did a lot more than that already!” Cash yells out, and crowd breaks into guffaws of laughter. Out of the corner of my eye I see Mama swipe at Cash with her handkerchief.
Roan’s arm encircles my waist and he draws me close and tender. “I love you,” he whispers, right before his lips meet mine.
I melt into him, and everything else disappears as his kiss takes me away and wraps us up in our own little world.
A fluttering in my belly, the baby’s first kick, brings Roan’s face up. He felt it too, with his waist pressed against me—his brows knit, concern darkening his gaze.
“It’s okay, honey. Just your child saying hello.”
He dives into my neck, laughing, his arms squeezing me powerfully.
Roan Winters is laughing. I won’t ever get enough of that sound.
The baby flips, a strange and miraculous sensation, and Roan’s hand slides down to cup our little one. I can feel the brightness of it pulsing between us.
Yes.
With love, we will rebuild the world.
<<<<>>>>
Acknowledgments
June 2017
Dear Readers!
What a wild ride it’s been! Thanks so much for joining us on this journey with each of the Luciano couples as they made their way to the Haven, and with Roan and Lucy as they overcame the past to embrace their future.
We hope you’ve been uplifted by these stories, even though they are set in a time of humanity’s darkest hours. As our nation experiences turbulent changes and a fractured political environment, we have been a little spooked by the coincidence of current events mirroring the background setup of the books with plot lines chosen well over a year ago. In light of the history we’re living through, we’re more positive than ever that our chosen themes are the answer in these difficult days:
Love heals.
We are better together.
With love we can rebuild the world.
By plotting all of the books in advance of writing the series, we were able to weave the themes deeply into each story, and in this capstone book, really bring all the threads of this unique tapestry together. We hope you found it as satisfying to read as it was to write!
From the beginning of the series, both of us couldn’t wait to write Smolder Road and see passionate, strong-willed Lucy and deep, secretive Roan leap off the page and into each other’s arms—but what came later, when we realized their individual story was too short, was a discussion about all the other characters we loved who deserved more of a conclusion, and way to show that the New United States could be “rebuilt in love.” Ana, John, Elizabeth, and even Dwight Kane then showed up to tell the story from their points of view.
We are richer for a diversity of experiences seen through different eyes. We hope you’ll remember that in the challenging days that lie ahead for our nation.
With love,
Toby & Emily
P.S. This is the conclusion of the first set of books of the Scorch Series, but we are not necessarily done writing about the Haven and the Lucianos! If you liked the books, let us know in an honest review, and tell a friend about them! That’s the greatest encouragement you can give us to keep writing.
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ARC Copy
You are reading an ARC Copy of Smolder Road.
If you find typos, please email them to
Jamie: [email protected]
Thank you for reading Smolder Road and being part of our Scorch Series journey!
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