EMP Lodge Series (Book 2): Dark Hunt

by Grace Hamilton

  Once again, Megan peeled apples, sliced them up into chunks, and put them on the stove to cook for a bit. The actual canning would be done on the stove where they could reach a good rolling boil. They wanted to preserve as much fuel as possible and used the water that was already heated on the woodstove. Putting a lid over the pot would also help trap the heat and bring the water to a boil in no time at all.

  “Just put all the peels and cores in this big pot,” Rosie instructed. “These are going to be great for making apple cider vinegar. I miss having that stuff around!”

  Before the EMP, Megan had heard about ACV as it was called, as an excellent weight loss remedy. Rosie laughed when Megan told her that. She said it probably did help, but she liked it for other reasons.

  “I use it to treat colds, sinus infections, and for relieving the pain of a bee sting. It's one of those all-purpose things you want to have around.”

  Spotting the apples Megan had prepared, Rosie beamed. “Wow! Look at all those slices! This is great. You ready?” she asked, wiping her hands on the flowery apron she was wearing.

  “Yep, show me how to make your magic potion.” Megan tried to be upbeat but it just wasn't there.

  Rosie grabbed the bucket of raw honey. The honey was a staple around the house and used in meal preparations all the time. While chopping wood last month, Jack had sliced his finger nearly clean off. Rosie stitched it, slapped some honey on it, and it healed in record time with no sign of infection. She always joked that if she could only have one thing in this world, it would be her raw honey.

  “So, we are going to put all these peels and cores in this big pickle jar. I'll go get some water, can you spoon about eight tablespoons of honey into the jar. Just put it on top of the slices.”

  Rosie came back in carrying a pitcher of fresh water from the potable water supply. She poured it over the slices until all were covered. Then she grabbed a pair of old pantyhose, stretched a piece over the opening of the jar and tied a string around the edge to keep it in place.

  “There. That's it. Now, we let nature take its course. In two weeks, we'll strain it, saving the liquid. It will be time to toss out all the chunky stuff and let the liquid ferment for about four weeks. One of us will need to give it a good stir every day.”

  “That's it?” Megan was incredulous. All these years, she had been throwing away apple peels and cores, when she could have been making her own magic potions.

  “Yup. Now, since we didn't use all the apple slices, we will make us some nice potpourri. We'll just let them dry and put them in a bowl on the table. I love the way they smell for the first week or two. After that, into the compost heap they go.”

  Willow chimed in, “Those bad boys are super high in nitrogen. That is going to get that compost heap cooking!”

  Megan had to laugh. Willow got very excited about her compost heap. At times it stunk so bad it made Megan want to vomit but Willow said that was a good sign things were really cooking. She would give it a good stir and the smell would die down after a day or so.

  There was so much to learn but Megan enjoyed every minute of it.

  12

  The steady rain and dropping temperature added to Wyatt’s diminishing confidence in finding Caitlin. Under normal circumstances, the first forty-eight hours was critical but this was the new normal and he was at a loss. Sighing, a puff of steam in front of his face reminded him of just how cold it was, as he’d gone numb hours ago. Numb to the miserable cold, wet and the blister that had decided to show up on his heel earlier that day.

  Over the last five days, they’d covered more miles than they had in the six months they’d been living on the mountain full time and each new day dawned with hope only to end in failure. Caitlin simply wasn’t out there. Maybe the person who found her was on the move, which could mean that they were sixty miles away by now. He had no idea which direction to look.

  During his time with the Chicago PD, they would have used social media and Crime Stoppers to help find a missing child. Out here in the woods, there weren’t enough people out here to make putting up signs worth it; plus it would draw unwanted attention. Their only option was to keep searching but deep down, Wyatt knew that when the weather did turn, that would become impossible.

  As it was, the chores around the house were being ignored. They still needed to finish the preparations for winter. He had wanted to get another storage bin built to hold the potatoes and carrots. They had also planned to attach a mudroom of sorts onto the back door.

  A mudroom would allow them to keep their snowy boots and other gear out of the house. It would also cut down on the drafts and bursts of cold air that came in every time the back door was opened. He had no idea what this winter would hold, but he knew it would be a struggle to keep the entire cabin warm. They were already burning through their wood supply quickly.

  Wyatt felt more alone than he ever had in his life as he stared up at the lodge looming before him. It felt as if he was stuck in a horrible repeating pattern. Every morning he went out with the intention of bringing Caitlin home and every night he returned empty-handed.

  He couldn't stand the look of disappointment on Megan's face when he came through the door without her daughter. Wyatt knew this would destroy their relationship. There was a very good possibility Megan would leave the group if Caitlin weren’t found. He knew what it was like to run away from the place where there were so many reminders of what had been lost.

  It was one of the reasons why he joined the Navy. The loss of his little sister was too much too cope with and while his parents never blamed him, he should have been able to stop her from running in front of that car. He was the big brother. He should have known better.

  Wyatt walked through the door, hoping everyone was busy so he wouldn't have to see the disappointed looks on their faces, again.

  He wasn't so lucky. Chase and Jack had already returned and were sitting at the kitchen table with Megan. The maps were spread out in front of them showing Megan where they had already searched.

  No one looked at him. They all knew he hadn't found her. Their focus was on the maps. His mom and Willow were busy folding laundry and quietly talking. Duke gave out a bark. He was under the table, lying next to Megan's one good foot.

  Ryland looked over the railing from upstairs. When he saw it was only Wyatt, he shook his head, apparently telling Albert, who was also upstairs, that he had failed again.

  It was a relief not to say anything and he went about cleaning up and repacking his gear to leave by the door for when he went back out in the morning.

  After another quiet dinner, they had to have a conversation about the search for tomorrow. Megan was certainly trying to pick up the slack, but she wasn't exactly mobile. She couldn't haul wood or help remove the plastic from the greenhouse. No one wanted to make her feel any worse about the situation but they had to think of the needs of everyone in the house.

  It was decided Wyatt and Chase would go out. Willow insisted she go along. Jack was at first hesitant, but her eyes and ears were as good as anyone else. Jack had to stay behind and get that mudroom put up. Albert would split wood while Ryland stacked it.

  The following morning, everyone got to work, including Megan. She was down to using only one crutch and was moving around much better so long as she didn’t overdo it. Placed on laundry duty, the women worked as a team. Rosie took care of dumping the bucket of water and hauling the clothes to the woodstove for Megan to hang on the rack.

  Then it was more candle making, before it was time to show Megan another new skill—how to make soap. This one intrigued Megan the most. Prior to the EMP, she knew people who made all kinds of pretty soaps and sold them at a high price in specialty shops and craft fairs.

  Apparently, Rosie had done that kind of thing too, but didn't see the cost effectiveness of buying all the expensive ingredients and going through the hassle of making her own. Today, it was a necessity.

  When Rosie had explained why she’d saved all t
he fat from the animals they’d harvested recently, Megan was appalled. Despite her initial reaction, Rosie promised her she would never know she was washing her body with the fat of an animal by the time they were done. Megan wasn't convinced, but figured she would go through the process and see what she could learn.

  “Grab that big stainless steel pot,” Rosie instructed.

  Megan did as instructed, although it was a bit awkward carrying anything while trying to maneuver on crutches. Her ankle was still too sore to hold her weight.

  “Now, you cut the fat chunks into small pieces while I grab the bucket of ash from the stove.”

  Megan learned long ago not to question her new family no matter how absurd some of their choices tended to be. They seemed to know what they were doing.

  She chopped the fat, trying not to think of rubbing it all over her body or in her hair, while watching Rosie. Wyatt's mother had made one of the old freeze-dried food buckets into a strainer of sorts. There were tiny holes punched through the bottom.

  Earlier, Rosie had heated ash mixed with fresh rainwater on the woodstove in an old enamel cookpot. Now that it was cool, she poured it into a big glass bowl covered in a square of cloth cut from a cotton t-shirt. Since they didn’t have cheesecloth to use, the t-shirt would have to do, she told her.

  “What is that for?” Megan asked unable to hold back her question.

  “This is lye,” Rosie said holding up the smaller bowl of liquid that had just been strained through the shirt.

  “Really?”

  Megan had heard of lye of course. It was the stuff they used in soaps and detergents.

  Rosie nodded, “Yep. If we were making larger batches, I would let the ash water sit overnight but considering how much ash we end up with and will have by the end of winter; I’m not worried about having enough to make soap with.”

  “I'm all done with this part,” Megan pointed to the pot that contained the chunks of fat.

  “Great, we will put this on the stove to melt down. It will probably take an hour or so. Once it’s melted, we can strain it through another cloth so we only have the clear liquid left. Once everything is ready, we can then marry the two together and start to make soap. Do you have anything else you wanted to do while we wait?” Rosie asked her, covering the pot with a lid to trap in the heat.

  Megan shrugged, “Not really. I'll go see if Jack needs any help. Holler when it's time to do the next step. I want to see how you are going to make that into soap.”

  “I will, dear. Be careful. You don't need to overdo it.”

  “Yep, I know.”

  Megan was able to walk around inside the lodge without the crutches, but she still used them when she went outside. Navigating over the bumpy ground was becoming easier and she couldn’t wait until she was back to normal. Thankfully, her leg didn't feel like a lead ball dragging her down. The pain was still there, but not nearly as bad. The key was keeping it elevated as much as she could. Standing upright still made it throb.

  “Hey, Jack,” she said when she saw him standing outside the back door.

  He was staring at the ground, which was littered with wood and various construction supplies.

  “Hey,” he said without looking up.

  Megan waited. She knew that look. He was thinking.

  “Okay,” he said, looking up and clapping his hands together, “Got it!”

  She smiled, “Got what?”

  “I was trying to do a little math to figure out how many of these branches I would need to frame the walls.”

  She nodded. Jack was an intelligent guy and was always working out problems in his head. He rarely had to sit down and use pen and paper to get through an equation. Megan was not quite so blessed in the math department. All that arithmetic to come up with spacing made her head hurt. She usually left it to Jack and then happily followed his direction.

  “Can I help with anything?” she asked, hoping he would say yes.

  He thought for a moment. She knew building was typically something a person did while standing on both feet, but figured she could hold the wood while he nailed or something.

  “Sure,” he finally said. “I'm going to lay out the frame. As I move along, it would be great if you could hold the wood up while I nail it to the bottom board.”

  Megan was thrilled. She needed to help, even if it meant doing something as simple as holding a piece of wood upright.

  They worked together in silence until Rosie popped her head out the back door.

  “Megan, are you ready for the next step in our soap making?”

  Megan was secretly thrilled to be getting back inside and hopefully, into a chair. The throbbing had become a little too much to bear and she knew she’d been on her injured leg too much today. It didn’t matter how good she felt, she still needed time to heal.

  Rosie gave her a knowing look as she hobbled by, trying not to wince. Rosie quickly pulled out a chair, ordered her to sit, and disappeared into the bedroom.

  “You have to take it easy for a few more days,” she lectured gently lifting Megan's wrapped ankle and placing it on another chair with a pillow cushioning it.

  Megan sighed in relief. Rosie pulled off the sock that was stretched over her foot.

  “You see this?” she said angrily. “Your toes are very red, turning purple. When you feel your heartbeat in your toes, sit down!”

  Megan winced as the woman fussed over her. Rosie took her doctoring duties seriously and did not tolerate uncooperative patients. She didn't want to lose a foot or a leg and promised to obey.

  Rosie brought the pot to the table. “Since you were busy outside, I went ahead and mixed the lye with the tallow, which is what’s left after melting and straining the animal fat.” Megan peered inside; it was a creamy color, thick, and looked a lot like Crisco; only not as white.

  Rosie brought two old bread pans to the table. They didn't use the bread pans for baking because they were too thin to handle on the heat of the woodstove.

  “Use the ladle and spoon the soap into the pans,” Rosie instructed.

  Megan did as she was told.

  “Now, we will let this sit overnight. In the morning, we will cut it with a knife to make bars.”

  Once again, Megan was thoroughly impressed.

  “That is amazing.”

  “Next spring, we need to collect some lavender and other fragrant flowers. We can mix it into the soap to get some nice, pretty colors, and smells.”

  “Oh, that would be awesome. And some mint,” Megan added. She loved the refreshing smell of mint and it always made her skin feel so alive.

  “Definitely. If we do end up getting a couple of dairy goats, a little milk goes a long way for making soap. The goat's milk will leave your skin nice and soft. I imagine after another long summer in the sun working in the garden, we could all use a little skin pampering.”

  Megan was excited. The group had talked a lot about getting some goats. It was the next step in their sustainable living. They had to keep moving forward and chickens and goats were definitely on the agenda.

  Wyatt stopped and stared out over the area that stretched out below him. He was back at the very spot Caitlin had vanished. The steep, rocky hillside that led to the meadow below was inches from his feet. He imagined Megan standing in this same spot, captivated by the beauty below.

  She had told him she just knew deer would be down there. He looked to the left. The slope was a little easier to navigate, but it would still be a difficult climb down. He couldn't believe Megan had managed to climb up that hillside with a seriously sprained ankle. The woman was tough.

  Wyatt took a few moments to try to see beyond the tree line in the distance that surrounded the meadow. That is where he needed to go. It wasn't on his search grid, but the maps didn't give them too many details about the land itself. If he were living off the land up here, he would want to be close to the meadow. There was likely a camp on the other side.

  Checking his watch, it was already after no
on. Leaning back, he looked at the sky, it was cloudy, but the weather was mild. He could make it across the meadow. He needed to see what was beyond those trees.

  The journey down the hill was slow. Wyatt spent a long time looking for any signs of Caitlin. Megan had told them she saw Caitlin tumble down past her.

  Wyatt stayed close to the tree line on the left. This is where Megan had climbed up the hill, using the trees to gain support. He looked at the trunks to see if there were any signs of blood that would indicate Caitlin had hit one of them on her way down. Nothing.

  He kept moving, keeping his eyes on the ground and scanning the area for a sign Caitlin had been there. He heard a noise and whipped his head to the right. Two beautiful deer were in the meadow. One was looking around while the other one grazed.

  As he watched the deer, his subconscious started nagging. He had seen something. What was it? He slowly turned his head back to the left.

  There! Up ahead he saw pink. He ran towards it and whooped with glee when he discovered it was a piece of pink material. Snatching it off the branch, he looked at it recognizing the material from Caitlin's coat. Tucking it in his pocket, he took a moment to orientate himself. The tree with the bloody bandage was through the trees on his left. Caitlin may have been a little confused and headed in the wrong direction. Someone found her, bandaged her and then where?

  Wyatt spent some time searching for more clues about what happened to Caitlin on that fateful morning. He couldn't see any tracks. Walking in a semi-circle back and forth, widening his search, he searched for more clues.

  It was the most frustrating thing he had ever encountered. A little girl didn't simply walk into the forest. Well, maybe typical little girls did, but Caitlin was smarter than that. She knew better. The past six months had given her a lot more knowledge about the forest than an average eight-year-old would have.