by J. R. Tate
Ryan hugged his midsection in an attempt to keep warm and hurried toward the storage cellar, trying to be quick as he pushed through the howling wind. The temperature was probably in the low teens and with the wind chill, there was no doubt that it was below zero. If he didn’t hurry, he’d get frostbite. His face and ears were exposed and those were the areas that were the most vulnerable. The last thing he needed was losing a body part due to the harsh winter winds.
It felt like the cellar was miles away, though in reality, it was only about a quarter of a mile from their shelter. Snow was coming down even heavier now, the flakes so large that it was like Mother Nature was just dumping buckets of them down on their town. Ryan’s clothes were soaked and for a moment, he was willing to admit that going out in it was a mistake. He’d never admit it out loud but it almost wasn’t worth it.
His lungs ached and he coughed – it was dry and unproductive, and it rattled his chest and sent pain down his entire body. His legs were heavy from having to tread through the snow and when he finally caught sight of the storage cellar, he quickened his pace, though it wasn’t much of an improvement from how fast he was going before.
His hands shook as he fumbled with the key to the lock. Dropping it, it fell about an inch into the snow and thankfully left a perfect outline, aiding him in finding it. Inserting the key, the lock clicked open and Ryan hurried inside, shaking off the remnants of snowflakes that covered him completely, leaving a puddle of water at his feet.
Everything was secure as he had expected. Nothing appeared to be moved. His plans to get to canning were hindered – his body ached and all he wanted to do was sit down and rest. Leaning against the wall, his back slid against it until his butt met the floor. Coming to a complete stop, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath, trying to gain his composure.
The sheets they had put over the plants in the pasture were a moot point now. They were buried under the thick snow and wouldn’t survive the frigid weather. It took everything Ryan had to not feel completely discouraged and he opened his eyes, scanning the room, making a mental note of their inventory. He needed to get a good idea of what they had in case Mike was up to something, or in case there was another impostor in their group. He was taking Doug’s advice – trust no one.
After counting everything and doing a double check on the meat they had stored, Ryan attempted to get out of the cellar but it was complete blizzard conditions. His body would not be able to take another quarter of a mile trek back to the shelter. His skin was numb and that was the first sign of possible frostbite. He’d need to get his body temperature warmed up again before attempting to get back to his family or he’d end up with hypothermia and no way to recover from it.
There was a lantern among some of the supplies and a little propane in the bottle it was connected to. Sifting through a box of random things gathered from a nearby basement, he found a box of matches and lit the lantern, his hands still shaking as he turned the knob to brighten the cellar.
It put off some warmth and he rubbed his hands and got as close to it as possible. Breathing into his palms, Ryan felt the numbness slowly start to fade. His body temperature was warming up but the heavy layers of clothing were still wet, hindering the process from working as fast as he would like.
He wondered how long it’d take for Steve to want to come look for him. He had said he wouldn’t be gone long but didn’t give much of a time frame on when they should start to worry. Ryan decided to give it about fifteen minutes to see how he felt.
He was stuck between allowing his body to recover or letting the snow get deeper and the weather get worse. If they stayed in the cellars, the winter precipitation would cover the doors to the exits and they’d either have to wait for the temperatures to climb above freezing, or someone would have to continuously clear them off. Worse case scenario was they’d freeze shut.
He paced, hoping that would get his blood flowing to help warm up. Fifteen minutes – he had to at least wait that long so he wouldn’t rush it and end up dead out in the blizzard conditions. It felt like an eternity.
Chapter Twelve
Cecilia passed the time playing with Ty. Darryl and her mom did some reading and sleeping but the mood was pretty standard across the board – everyone had cabin fever and wanted to get some fresh air. She wasn’t certain on what the weather was doing. They occasionally could hear the wind howl but they were deep enough in the ground that it masked the sounds overhead.
The only real indicator she got about current conditions was when one of the men would open the cellar door to make sure it wasn’t getting completely blanketed with snow. The last thing they needed was to get trapped inside. They’d do it every thirty minutes and in that short amount of time it had accumulated enough to be significant.
“Mommy, you can play the bad guy this time!” Ty held up one of his homemade toys and handed it to her, his smile so bright that Cecilia longed for a child’s innocence. To him, this was one big sleepover and lots of snow meant they’d get to go build snowmen and have snow ice cream. He had only seen large amounts of winter precipitation just a few times in his life so it was all new to him.
Cecilia continued to go along with Ty’s game but her mind was in a million different directions. She felt the need to watch everyone in the shelter. Ryan’s odd behavior had her worried – was everyone really out to get each other? Who should she not trust, or would the list of who to trust be shorter?
“You look really worried, dear. Want to talk about it?” Margaret sat on the cot behind where Cecilia and Ty were playing, running her fingers down Cecilia’s ponytail. Her touch was soothing and it sent a slight chill down her spine.
“I’m so sick of worrying, Mom.” Glancing toward Ty, she handed him his toy. “Mommy has to get up off this floor for a little while, Ty. I think your friend over there might want to play.”
Cecilia pointed to another boy he had befriended and Ty gave no push back about her wanting to stop. Once he was out of earshot, Cecilia continued.
“Ryan has gone off again. He doesn’t even communicate with me. I don’t know where he went or when he’ll even be back.” There was a slight quiver in her voice and she felt the warmth well up in the corners of her eyes. There would be no stopping the tears that would soon be flowing down her cheeks. And she didn’t want to stop them. Maybe one big cry fest was exactly what she needed to get it all out of her system.
“He went to check on the storage. He wanted to make sure it was secure for the weather and from the looters.” Steve happened to pass by, stopping when he heard her comment.
Looking up at him, Cecilia nodded and blotted the tears under her eyes with the blanket on her cot. “How long has he been gone? I didn’t even see him leave.”
Steve pondered her question for a moment, pursing his lips as he thought. “I’d say about thirty minutes ago, but I’m really not sure.”
“Did he say how long he’d be?”
“No. If he’s not back soon we’ll go find him.” Steve patted Cecilia on the shoulder. “It’s going to be okay. If it’s any consolation, each time we look out to clear the snow, it’s absolutely beautiful. And we can stop rationing the water for now.”
“Thanks, Steve.”
Cecilia was about to say something else when she saw the shelter door swing open. She couldn’t see his face but he was covered in snow, his clothes sopping wet as he rested on the top steps. It took him a few seconds to move again and he edged down the stairs slowly, pulling his hat off. Hurrying toward him, Cecilia took his hand, his skin like ice cubes in her grasp.
“Ryan! Oh my gosh! Someone, get him some blankets!”
Cecilia guided him toward their corner, dodging all of the stares from everyone in the shelter. Taking him behind the curtain where the doctor was set up for exams, she helped him out of his clothes. She had tunnel vision, focused only on helping Ryan and didn’t even realize that someone had brought in several blankets that were piled on the makeshift exam table.
> Getting her first real glance at Ryan, the sight in front of her made her sick to her stomach. His lips were blue, his teeth were chattering, and the edges of his spiked hair had pieces of ice on them.
“Wrap yourself in these blankets.”
Ryan didn’t say anything and took a few steps back, sitting on the table. She helped him get wrapped up until the only thing sticking out of the top of the bedding was his head. His vacant expression made her worry that there was some significant damage going on but when Darryl ducked inside the curtain with a cup of steaming hot coffee, Ryan immediately grabbed for it, sticking one hand through an open area of the blankets.
Still shivering, it took him a second to get the cup to his lips and Cecilia also helped in guiding it for him. He was cautious to take a sip but when he did, it was like he couldn’t stop himself. His body relaxed as he finished it off and though his body was still shaking, it had calmed down.
“Are you okay, Ryan?” Cecilia asked, cupping the sides of his face in her palms. His skin was still cold to the touch. She worried about frostbite and checked his ears, fingers and toes, all appearing to be okay. She wasn’t a doctor but he was able to move them around and they weren’t discolored.
“I’m fine.” It came out in short pants and when Darryl returned with another cup of coffee, Ryan took it as if he hadn’t had anything to eat or drink in days. Wrapping his hands around it, this time, he didn’t drink it, but kept it against his fingers to help regulate his temperature.
“Why did you go out there? You could’ve died!”
“I didn’t...” Ryan trailed off, looking down at the steam that lingered over the top of the cup. “I didn’t know it was that bad.”
“Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. I marked the cellar with a post so we’d be able to locate it once we can go out there again.”
“How deep is the snow?” Cecilia asked, unsure if she really wanted to know the answer to it.
“It’s hard to really know. There were drifts at least fifteen feet high and it is still coming down.”
At least Ryan didn’t seem to struggle so bad as he talked. He drank the coffee down and put the cup aside, hugging the blankets around him. The ice on his hair and beard had melted and his sopping clothes were piled on the floor.
“I’m glad you made it back.”
“I know it’s frustrating you, Cecilia. That’s not lost on me.” His green eyes stared at her, pleading for her to understand why he had done the things he had. Frustration was putting it mildly but Cecilia had to keep her nagging quiet. He wasn’t wandering off to be a nuisance – it was to help and save the people of Harper Springs. She had fallen in love with the man who always did his best for everyone. It was his greatest characteristic and also his greatest flaw.
“It’s okay, Ryan. I understand why you’re doing it. Can I ask one favor of you, though?”
Ryan nodded but didn’t say anything.
“Can you please communicate with me better? Tell me where you’re going. Tell me when you’ll be back. I’m going to worry regardless – there’s no sense in hiding it from me.”
That made Ryan laugh. “I can do that, babe.”
“Oh, and when we have a moment alone, I need you to fill me in more about not trusting people and how you suspect they’re up to something. It’s like only getting the first half of the movie and it cuts off in mid-sentence. You can’t do that to me.” She laughed and nudged his shoulder to ease the mood. It was a tough topic that made his grin fade and his brow crease at the subtle mention of the mystery she was trying to debunk.
“Once I get it figured out you’ll be the first to know. Until this weather eases up a bit, the only thing we’re gonna be doing is waiting it out. No one needs to go up there right now,” Ryan said, pointing upward.
“And the mystery continues.” Cecilia kissed his cheek. “I’ll go find you some dry clothes. For safe measure, we should have the doctor make sure you’re okay.” She glanced over her shoulder at him as she pulled the curtain aside. “I love you, Ryan.”
“I love you, Cecilia.”
~~
Getting his body back to normal temperature felt like an eternity to Ryan. He stayed rolled up in the blankets, only scooting out of them when the doctor looked him over. There were no obvious signs of hypothermia or frostbite and he was feeling okay. If he had been out just a little longer he probably wouldn’t have been quite as lucky.
It also helped when Cecilia snuggled up next to him. Sharing body heat with her was the best thing he could do – not only for his physical health, but also for his mental health. Having her next to him, taking in the precious time spent with her was a blessing. Even if he needed to be out working the pasture or preparing for more winter weather, it was time well spent.
“You know what we’re missing?” Ryan watched Ty and his friend play, his dad read a book, and Margaret napping on the cot near them.
“What’s that?” Cecilia asked, clasping her fingers in his.
“A nice roaring fire, hot chocolate, and Christmas decorations.”
“That sounds like heaven. Don’t forget the turkey roasting in the oven.”
Each time they opened the cellar door to clear the snow, Ryan made sure to be at an angle to try and see what the weather was doing. It seemed like they weren’t having to remove as much every time but he also wondered if it was wishful thinking.
During their stay in the shelter, it was easy to lose track of time. The sky outside was dark but that wasn’t a reliable way to tell what time of day it was. His watch had stopped working during the tornadoes so their only source of having any kind of estimate was the placement of the sun, which couldn’t be seen at the moment.
Sliding off of the cot, Ryan stood up and stretched. He had to move to prevent stiff muscles, including his leg that had healed but would never be one hundred percent back to normal after all of the damage it had sustained when he had to outrun the coyote.
He spotted Mike Rayburn near the camping shower and bathroom area. His former superior ducked glances with him, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. Ryan debated on whether or not to talk to him or let it be. The last thing he needed to do was cause a scene and have nowhere to go if people turned on him.
Instead, Ryan circled around the cots where everyone was still joined together – some reading, some sleeping, and most sitting around, speculating on the future of Harper Springs and their lives. Having to become nomads wasn’t far-fetched and Ryan hoped they could avoid that option at all costs. It’d definitely be extreme worst-case scenario.
Even when he wasn’t looking at Mike, he could feel his eyes on him, burning a hole through him. Though he didn’t have absolute proof, Ryan would bet that Mike was up to something just by his current actions toward him. He was likely still pissed that Ryan no longer addressed him as Chief Rayburn but that resentment would fade – this was more like being secretive or as Cecilia had put it, mysterious. Ryan wondered what he could possibly be up to. His first assumption was working with the looters. What benefit would Mike get off of it? He wanted to just blatantly ask him but now wasn’t the time.
To many of the townspeople, Mike was still a good guy. He was the beloved fire chief that had saved so many people from wrecks, fires, and accidents. If Ryan confronted him it could turn out ugly for him – he couldn’t be positive to think he was on the same playing field as Mike when it came to Harper Springs politics.
“I saw you, Ryan.”
Ryan heard Mike break the silence and though the room was full of people chatting, his voice was loud enough. Ryan hurried toward him, bridging the gap between them – if he could get closer, maybe no one would pay any attention to the conversation.
“Saw me where?” Ryan asked, now only a few feet away from Mike. He knew exactly what the other man was referring to but decided to play dumb. Maybe this would go off in a different direction.
“You know.” Mike prodded his index finger in Ryan’s chest, his glare so
sharp that if looks could kill, Ryan would be dead right where he stood.
“No, I don’t, Mike. What in the hell are you talking about?”
Mike smiled, though it wasn’t from amusement. He looked like he was going crazy, a sane man losing his mind right in front of Ryan.
“You followed me out to the ranch.”
The hair on the back Ryan’s neck stood up and he scoffed. The best thing he could do when he didn’t want confrontation was to deny any suspicions that he had followed Mike. If anyone was listening on, maybe they’d believe him. Both men knew the real truth and Ryan couldn’t think up an explanation as to why he’d follow him.
“I think you’re seeing things, Mike. You might want to get some rest.” Ryan turned to walk away, sticking to his original plan of not causing a scene in the shelter.
Heat rushed up his arm when Mike’s fingers dug into his bicep muscle, turning him back around to face him. His former superior was a bigger man – about three inches taller and at least thirty pounds heavier. Even with size not on his side, Ryan stood strong as Mike stared him down, his jaw clenched, his breathing fast as his grasp tightened around his arm.
“Next time, just tell me you want to go along. You think I’m hiding something?” Mike’s voice raised, causing all of the muffled conversations around the cellar to fade. Though Ryan couldn’t see behind him, he felt every eye of Harper Springs burning a hole in his back.
“Get some rest, Mike. We’re all tired. We’re all tired of this.” Ryan looked him straight in the eye. The man was carrying something on his shoulders – the stress was obvious in his body language and his short temper. “You know you can talk to me. To any of us.”
“Let him go, Rayburn.” Steve and a few men from the firehouse stood beside Ryan but Mike didn’t ease up.
“You should be watching this asshole.” Mike poked his finger into Ryan’s chest again, his other hand still tight on his bicep. “This has gotten out of hand. I didn’t know...” His voice trailed off to a whisper and he let go, freeing Ryan. He appeared to be a man defeated, his emotion exposed like a well-read book.