States of War

by Kevin Partner

  "He is?" And the venom in her voice disappeared in an instant. "Well, why didn't he say so? Any friend of my Monroe is a friend of mine."

  Solly picked himself up off the floor and cautiously peered into the living room. The shotgun had been put away.

  "You don't have any food for your poor grandma do you?"

  "Sure I do," Ross said, swinging the pack from his shoulders. "Shall we cook you some soup?"

  Solly could see from her expression that the woman was famished.

  "We'll get some light and air in here, shall we? My name's Solly, by the way."

  "Sure, go right ahead."

  So, while Ross lit the camp stove and warmed a can of soup, Solly did the best he could to clean up the old woman's living conditions. He found some black bags in the kitchen and, though she watched him closely, the woman didn't comment or complain once.

  Once she'd eaten, she revealed that her name was Gheta Kaplinsky and that she'd lived in that house since she and her husband Jenk had bought it after moving to America decades ago. She kept insisting that Jenk would be home soon, but Solly made the grim discovery of her husband's ruined body in the bedroom. He wrapped it in the rotting eiderdown comforter and dragged it out of the house, carefully making sure she didn't see what he was doing.

  While Ross sat and talked to the old woman, Solly dug a shallow grave and rolled the remains inside. He then opened up the garage and found an old Ford pickup. Its battery was dead, but he was pretty sure he could bump start it down the hill leading back to the road.

  "Gheta, will you come with us to our home? We have food and hot water there," he said, praying that he was speaking the truth.

  "No, I'll sit here and wait till my Jenk comes home."

  Solly looked at Ross and shook his head.

  "Please come with us, Grandma," Ross said, getting as close to her as his nose could tolerate. "Grandpa wouldn't want you to starve waiting for him. You can have a nice warm bath at our place."

  "That's nice, but Jenk will be expecting me. Then we can eat together. I ain't going nowhere."

  Solly and Ross convened in the kitchen.

  "We can't leave her," Ross said. "She'll die."

  "There's a car in the garage. We could drive to the farmhouse, get some supplies and be back here within twenty four hours."

  Ross shook his head. "She can't be here on her own, not even for a day." He paused for a moment, then drew in a deep breath. "I'll stay. She trusts me, or at least she trusts Monroe. You go. Come back tomorrow with supplies and I'll try to persuade her to come with us."

  "You're a good man," Solly said, pulling Ross into a hug.

  The old Ford pickup rumbled along the road beside Conococheague Creek, the steady knock-knocking of its engine announcing its presence to anyone within half a mile. Solly felt a knot form in his stomach as the landscape became more and more familiar. Had they survived? And, if they had, would they—would she—welcome him back?

  Two people stepped out into the road, hunting rifles pointing at him, hands held out. Adrenaline surged through his veins as he realized he recognized neither of them.

  A young Hispanic woman bent down to talk through the open driver's window. "Who are you and where are you going?"

  "I'm going to the farmhouse, my name is Solly Masters."

  Her face betrayed surprise and she stood up to talk to her companion, a boy of perhaps fourteen, before appearing at the window again.

  "I’ll come with you."

  She walked around the other side and, after a whispered conversation, she opened the passenger door and got in. She'd handed her rifle to the boy and pulled a handgun out of her pocket. "I've heard them talk about someone called Solly, but I don't know you, so we're going to ride nice and slow. We'll see what they have to say."

  "Is everyone okay? Jaxon, Janice?" he asked, unable to hide the desperation in his voice.

  "I ain't answering no questions. It's not far, and then we'll see."

  Minutes later, the old pickup truck turned onto the little lane leading up to the farmhouse. It looked much the same, though there were subtle changes. As he got closer, it seemed that it was better tended than before. The grass and hedges had been cut and pots containing winter flowers had been placed outside. Then he noticed the guard post, set off to the right and surrounded by sandbags. It was shaded by the tree above it, so Solly couldn't see who it was that ran out to talk to the girl as she opened the passenger door.

  "Who?"

  With a pang, he recognized the voice.

  In a blur, she ran past the front of the car and pulled open the driver's door. "Solly? Is it really you?"

  He was out in an instant and they cried and laughed so hard he thought he'd hyperventilate. He swept her around as others emerged from the house. As he clung onto her, he saw Jaxon and Landon, their faces alight as they understood that he'd come home. Behind them, Arnold was pushed out by a woman he barely recognized—Agatha Prism, the librarian, restored to full health and strength.

  Janice leaned back a little and they kissed. He ran his hands through her curly hair and hugged her tight, as if he wanted to merge their souls together. He’d had no idea how much he'd missed her until she was here again.

  Suddenly, she jerked away. "Where's Ross? Solly, where is he?"

  Jaxon's face clouded with concern.

  "Don't worry, he's not far from here. He's looking after an old lady in a farm about forty miles away. We couldn't leave her, so I said I'd go back tomorrow with help."

  "He stayed there on his own? Well, I mean, without you?"

  "He's become a man, Janice. You'd be proud of him. Saved my life," Solly said. "But can I come in and have something to eat and drink before I tell you what's happened?"

  "And you can have a bath, too," Janice said, smiling.

  Solly gave a shy shrug. "Sorry, I guess I don’t exactly smell like roses."

  Jaxon gave him a hug as he walked towards the door and Solly shook hands with Landon.

  "Lan here's been a hero," Jaxon said. "Brought some of his friends from the town to help us. Josie, the one who rode with you, she's one of them."

  Solly slapped Landon on the shoulder. "Well done, my friend. And you made a good choice with her, that's for sure."

  A group of young children broke out of the house, sidestepping Miss Prism and ran up to Solly, calling his name and wrapping themselves around his legs.

  "Come now, children, leave Mr. Masters alone. School is still in session."

  "Looks as though a lot has changed while I've been away," Solly said to Janice.

  "Yes, Miss Prism and I have set up a little classroom in the house. It keeps the children occupied and Arnold sometimes teaches them as well," she said. Then she sighed, and her expression hardened a little. "Solly, there is one thing. We have someone here, locked in the basement."

  "Who?"

  "It's probably best you see for yourself," she said, taking him by the hand and leading him into the house. Landon followed, drawing his handgun.

  Janice unlocked the basement door and Landon went down first, Solly following him. He could see that a bed had been brought down and on it sat a slight man who was reading a book. He looked up, and Solly recognized him instantly.

  "Khaled! What are you doing here?"

  "It is you! Please, tell me the device is safe, I beg you. Tell me!" He leaped up, but only got a few feet before falling over his chained feet. "They are hunting me, they will find me! They must not take me back. The end, the end is coming. I have seen them. The Reapers. Nothing can stop them. Nothing but the device. If it is not safe, then we are lost. If they recover it, we are lost. The end of humanity is at hand!"

  As she locked the door again, Janice said, "I'm sorry, Solly. He turned up, wandering in the streets, and I recognized him. I didn't know what to do, so I locked him up. He's mad and he says the most awful things."

  "He may be mad," Solly said, "but if I'm right, we're going to need his help if we're to stop what's coming."
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  He stood for a moment, leaning against the door, listening to the raving of the lunatic in the basement. It was the ultimate irony that the future of a world turned to chaos depended on the mind of a madman. But that was for tomorrow. Right now, all he cared about was that he was home. He pulled Janice to him and they held each other until all the pain and all the fear dissolved and Solly Masters was, for that glorious moment, at peace.

  The Long Night – Book 4

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