by Kip Nelson
“I know you think we're helpless here. Just because I want to try talking things through and finding another solution doesn't mean we're weak. We're prepared to fight back and we will if it's necessary.”
“That's good, because you're going to have to do that. War is coming. That's what they want. That's the only thing they understand. You don't have a choice. So, you'd better do whatever you're going to do fast because they could come at any moment.”
Grace pondered her words and her next question was one that Lily wasn't expecting. “How did you come to be involved with them, Lily?”
Lily's head dipped. It was clearly something she wasn't comfortable talking about, and her voice was soft when she answered. “You called them ‘my people,’ but they aren't my people, not really. They found me and I went with them because I didn't know what else to do. Then I saw what they were capable of. I tried to turn away from it, tried to hide and justify it to myself, and before I knew it, I was a part of them because I had to be. No matter how bad it got there, I knew that being alone in the world would have been worse. So, I threw away whatever shred of dignity I had and became like them, because that's how I'm going to survive. So, you can talk about your better way, but this is my way, and I'm stuck with it. So, either kill me or just leave me here to rot because I can't tell you anything.”
With a last tremble of her voice her mouth clamped shut. She folded her arms across her chest, and turned her face away. Grace looked at her for a long while, and then rapped her fingers against the table and rose. Because of the kinship she felt with Lily, she wanted to defeat the faction even more than she did before, and show everyone that you didn't have to resort to savage violence to make it in the world.
There was much on her mind as she nodded to Saul and walked through the settlement. She hoped that Lily would come around and be an ally, but it would be an arduous process to help her rediscover herself. Yet, it was a worthwhile project and, given how Freddie had returned to counseling, she hoped that, in time, he could help Lily. However, the fact remained that she had not achieved her objective. Lily had not provided any useful information she could use to help defend the community against the oncoming onslaught, and nor did Lily seem likely to do so anytime soon.
So establishing valuable information about the other faction was dependent upon Luis and Will returning, and as Grace walked through the settlement, she gazed wistfully at the entrance, hoping the two of them would return. Both were resourceful, and if any two men could survive a night in the city, it was those two. Yet, her heart still was worried for them, especially Luis, as she just had started getting used to the idea of them being in a relationship. It was still a new, precious thing and she didn't want the flower of their love to be plucked before it was fully in bloom.
Freddie and Hank were deep in discussion, walking through the central park. Hank had his head bowed and was listening intently with his hands clasped behind his back. Freddie, in contrast, was much more animated, waving his hands around. He caught sight of Grace and waved her over emphatically.
“You seem happy,” she said. Freddie beamed. Indeed, the man had changed. There was more color in his cheeks, and his eyes flashed with a great deal of zeal.
“I am! You know, I was wondering if there was a place for me in this world, but starting a counseling service again is the best thing I've ever done. I feel as though I finally can help the community in a way that nobody else can. No offense, Hank,” Freddie said.
“None taken,” Hank replied, unable to hide the amused smile that played upon his lips.
“How are people doing? I could use some good news. The prisoner finally is talking to me. Lily is her name, by the way, but she didn't tell me anything we didn't already know. It's horrible, really. I think those people are forcing her to help them, but she's so scared of being alone that she can't bring herself to say no. We have to stop them.”
“I'm sure we will,” Freddie said, reaching out and squeezing Grace's arm reassuringly, “and it sounds like she's been through a lot. I should have a few words with her at some point. As for your other question, people are in surprisingly good spirits. I just was talking with Hank about it, actually. I discovered quite a strange phenomenon. People actually are feeling braver because of everything they have been through. They are concerned about being attacked, of course, but I don't think many people are going to be running for cover. It's a remarkable thing, really, and, you know, the funniest thing is that people still come to me with the same kind of problems I used to deal with back when I had my other practice!”
Grace nodded with surprise. Freddie was about to continue when they heard a commotion and saw people's heads turn toward the entrance. Grace's eyes followed and saw two horses trot through the gates. Luis was on one. Will and Bob were on the other. They looked tired, and all wore solemn expressions. They alighted from the horses and the animals were taken away to be fed and watered. Grace, Hank, and Freddie went up to them, and a few other people lingered, for they knew the men’s mission had been important, and they also were glad to see that Bob had returned. Grace hugged Luis and gave him a quick kiss, which turned longer as their lips met. In his embrace, she could feel the tension and fear and wanted to know just what they had seen.
“If you two are quite done,” Bob said sharply.
Grace turned to him and as their eyes met she saw the frustration he had with her, but there was also something else there...something that took priority over their differences.
“We found their camp,” Will said, his face drawn. “They're in a mall, and it's pretty secure. But what's more is there's a lot of them, and a lot more guns. I'm talking a whole arsenal.”
Grace turned to Luis, who nodded, stark fear on his face. “Enough to turn this place into a crater,” he added, then put his head on Grace's shoulder.
She wrapped her arm around him as her own mind reeled. Murmurs rippled through the people standing around them, and Grace felt their fear, too. She looked at Freddie and wondered just how brave people would be now.
CHAPTER TEN
WHEN MORNING BROKE, Mack, Maggie, and Tristan woke up. Mack stood at the window and looked out on the empty streets below. He had been away from the settlement too long, and it would be good to get back to a place where the sounds of people filled the air. He never had been afraid of being a solitary man, but it felt wrong to be in a city that was so empty and devoid of life. Besides, he was starting to miss Grace and the others and wanted to get back to hear about everything that had happened in his absence. He still wished he had been able to send them word of what they were doing, but Maggie had left so swiftly they simply had not had a chance.
He roused the others and smiled to himself when Tristan begged for a few more minutes’ sleep. It took his mother to tear the blanket off him and force him to rise. It was moments like these that gave Mack hope for the future because, although there had been much change to civilization, the basics were still the same as they ever had been, encapsulated by this mother and son he had helped reunite. Hopefully, he would help the other Lost Children find their parents, too, or at least a new home in which they could be safe and sound.
The three of them quickly made their way out of the apartment block and through the streets again, on their way to the settlement. Mack hoped to get there in the late afternoon as he didn't want to risk spending another night in the city. They kept vigilant, so as not to be taken by surprise by any wandering antagonists, and Mack held the rifle ready to deter anyone who tried attacking them. However, as they moved through the bleak and empty streets, they didn't come across anyone and were accompanied by a silence that seemed endless, until Tristan stopped for a moment.
“Is everything alright?” Mack asked as Tristan looked up at the street signs. He followed the boy's gaze, but could see nothing of significance. However, Maggie looked at the sign and laughed.
“I thought I recognized this street,” she said.
Mack cocked an eyebrow and asked for
an explanation. Tristan told him that they were close to where he and his father used to live. Maggie turned away a little as he talked about his father since they had not yet broached that subject, other than the previous night, when Tristan had talked about when the EMP hit.
“Can we go and check it out?” Tristan asked. Maggie looked at Mack, then back at her son.
“I'm not sure that's a good idea. We don't know what could have happened to the place. It might not be a pleasant sight,” she said. “Besides, we should be getting back to the settlement. I know Mack is anxious to get back to safety.”
Mack, on the other hand, thought it was a worthwhile excursion. “I don't know. It might be worth taking a short detour considering we're here. I think it's important to remember where we came from. If you have no objections,” he said, deferring to Maggie in this instance. She saw the hopeful look in Tristan's eyes and shrugged her shoulders.
“Sure, as long as we're not there for too long. I'd like to get back to the settlement, too,” she said, and with that the three of them moved off to Tristan's old house.
It was strange for Maggie because this was the home that she could have had. The one that had her ex-husband and her son. Instead, she used to live across town in a small apartment that was barely big enough for her, let alone Tristan when he came to stay, but somehow, he managed. She never wanted to see that place again, though, not if she could help it. It only reminded her how alone she had been, and how much she had erred in placing her duty as a cop over her role as a mother.
In another life, if she and her ex-husband had done things differently, this house they were approaching would have been a place filled with happy memories, instead of one that only filled her with regret. It was a small, semi-detached place with a neat front yard and a white picket fence that had been knocked over. The yard was trodden in, and the screen door hung off its hinges. The windows were smashed and it was in a sorry state, much like all the other houses in the neighborhood. Maggie was afraid and looked over at Tristan, thinking she would have to console him. Yet, he seemed to be blind to the damage to the home, and bounded in as though it was just a normal day and he was returning from school.
Mack and Maggie both looked perturbed by his rash entrance. They didn't know if there would be anyone lying in wait for them, but a quick check of the house proved that it was empty. However, it was a depressing sight. People had been in here. It was a mess. Everything had been pulled apart and smashed. The kitchen had been ransacked, as had everything else of value, and yet, for Tristan it didn't matter. He was home, and he was happy. He saw all the times his parents had helped him with his homework, the places where he had played with his friends, or when he had watched the game with his dad and, even though they barely said anything of consequence during the game, it was still time spent together, and it meant a lot to him. He walked over to his mother and put his arms around her. She was surprised at his show of affection but welcomed it, and kissed him on the head.
“When did you get so tall?” she said, and they both smiled. Then she led him over to the stairs. At the end of them were some markings that, although faded, were still discernible.
“I remember each one of these,” she said, a hint of sadness marking her voice as she walked over and placed her fingers against the marks she had made to document Tristan's growth.
“I need to find something,” Tristan said. Before Maggie or Mack could react, Tristan was scampering up the stairs. The adults shared a wry smile and followed him up.
“So, this was your home,” Mack said.
“It was until we split up. Me and Tristan's father, I mean.”
“It must be difficult to be back.”
“Yeah, it is, but it's probably good for Tristan.”
“It might be good for you, too,” Mack said as they reached the top of the stairs.
Maggie had expected to find him in his old room, but it was empty. They heard the sound of Tristan digging through things in Maggie's old bedroom. So they went to investigate. They found him standing precariously on a chair, flinging things out of a cupboard until he emerged triumphantly with a large leather-bound photo album. Tristan grinned as he turned around and flashed a smile at his mother, waving the album above his head like a trophy but, in his haste, he unbalanced himself and fell over. Maggie shrieked, but Tristan managed to adjust his body so his side took the brunt of the fall. He remained unscathed, although he was a lot dustier than he had been before. Maggie went to help him up and then the two of them sat on the bed.
“You came all the way up here for that?” she asked.
Tristan smiled at her and then opened the album, taking them on a journey of memories. Mack watched the two of them as they were thrust back through time, back to the moments the photographs had captured, a world within a world. It began with the relationship of Tristan's parents and their marriage.
“You look happy there,” Tristan remarked.
“I was,” Maggie said, her eyes glistening with tears. She ran her hand along the photo and thought back to all those years ago, when she had been in love and anything had seemed possible.
“What happened to you two, Mom?” Tristan asked softly, for he had turned the pages and seen the early years of his life, the years to which his memory was unable to reach.
Moving past that he saw snapshots of his parents. In the early years of their relationship every photograph was one of joy. Yet, as time wore on, the smiles disappeared from their faces, and captured like this it was a dramatic change. Yet, in real life, the emotions between them had eroded gradually until the chasm between them was too great to traverse.
“Life happened, I suppose. The thing is, Tristan, when you're a kid you think that adults, parents especially, have everything worked out, but the truth is we're still trying to make it through the days and trying to make the right decisions. Sometimes we make the wrong ones, and we have to face the consequences. Sometimes we get another chance as well,” she said, and Tristan brightened up somewhat at that. His face fell again, though, as he looked at the pictures of him and his father together.
“I wish Dad was here,” he said.
“Me, too,” Maggie said, kissing him on the head.
She surprised herself by saying that. They hadn't been on very good terms since the divorce. Their love had turned into a bitter resentment of each other, but after hearing that he had died, she felt empty. She never would be able to apologize to him or thank him for raising their son.
“He did a good job raising you, and I'm sure that if he were here he'd be proud of the man you're turning into. I know I am,” she said. Tristan beamed once more and his eyes were glistening as well. Maggie looked down at the photo album with a lump in her throat.
“You know, this is a reminder of the way we used to be, and this house has so many good memories, but when it comes down to it this is just a house, and this is just a photo album, and the things in it are just pictures. What matters is the memories we have and the feelings inside. I know things had been difficult with me and your father over the last few years, and I'm sorry that you were caught in the middle of it. I know it couldn’t have been easy for you, and if I could go back now and change things, I would. I look at those pictures and I remember the times that we had together when you were just a baby. They were some of the happiest times of my life, and I know things changed and they're never going to be the same as they once were, but being your mother is the proudest, best thing I've ever done with my life, and nothing ever is going to change that.”
She kissed her son again and held him tightly. The photo album fell from her lap onto the floor, staying open on a page that showed the family happily together.
“And you know what?” she continued as she stood up. “Home is going to be wherever the two of us are together. We don't have to rely on this house or the photographs because we have each other, and I'm going to do everything in my power to make sure that doesn't change.” With that declaration, Maggie led the way out
of the house. She and Tristan had one more lingering glance at it before moving on, saying goodbye to their past once and for all.
Mack was filled with mixed emotions as they walked and left the house behind. He was pleased that Maggie and Tristan had had a chance to glimpse at their past, but he was filled with a deep melancholy that he was so far removed from the person closest to him in life. He had no idea what state their home was in, or if he ever would see it again, and as he walked along he took out the tattered, worn photograph of his wife and wondered how long it would sustain him. The more he looked at it, the more he wanted to taste her and feel her next to him, to brush away her hair from her face and hear her throaty laugh. He closed his eyes in sweet pain and continued walking. Onward, ever marching, because it was the only thing to do.
It took them a good few hours to make their way back through the city but, eventually, Mack began seeing landmarks with which he was familiar, ones that were visible from the settlement and he was filled with relief that they were approaching friendly territory. Their sojourn into the city had been a reckless act, but he didn't regret it for one instant as he had reunited a mother and son, and that was worth any price. He smiled as he heard the sounds of people talking, and waved his rifle to get the attention of the guard, who promptly began the process of opening the gate for them. While they were waiting, and making their final approach to the city, Mack turned to Tristan and asked him if any of the other Lost Children could be persuaded to leave. Tristan wore an uneasy look on his face as he answered.
“Probably, but many of them, especially the younger ones, see Peter as a father figure and believe everything he's told them. I'm not saying it's impossible, but it would be a hard thing to get through to them. Maybe if you got them alone, but that's difficult, too. Peter always told us to travel together, and most of them are angry anyway. One person I know you'll never convince is Peter.”