Graham's Resolution Trilogy Bundle: Books 1-3

by A. R. Shaw

  “I gotta go,” Ennis said. So Graham helped him slowly shuffle his way to the bathroom. Reluctant to leave him alone, he stood close by after Ennis motioned for him to close the door. Graham left him to have his own way. Hell, I won’t want anyone to help me go when I'm an old man, either. Still, Graham waited by the door. As a second thought, Graham peered around the corner to check if Ennis had drunk the glass of water offered to him earlier. The glass stood full to the rim on the nightstand. Oh crap. With the man shivering and not drinking, Graham began to worry he might be not only sick but also dehydrated. He’s probably got a bladder infection.

  Standing there adjacent to the clean and shiny kitchen, Graham noticed that Tala had already taken off to the greenhouse to work on the spring seedlings. Is she avoiding me? She loved spending time out in the greenhouse—they all did. The hopeful sprouts represented, somehow, a promised achievement, a milestone at long last. If only the damn snow would melt and go away for good, allowing them to line out the new garden and get things ready. The sooner, the better. They needed to enjoy a triumph in survival.

  The greenhouse they’d found on one of their many scavenging hunts stood resurrected between the cabin and the lake entrance as a welcome addition and a harbinger of good things to come. Tala, so excited when they showed up with the deconstructed load, divided her day job between the care and keeping of the cabin, food preparation, and seed starting. She’d spent several days scrubbing down and sanitizing the inside of the building, piece by piece. Once the guys cleared the snow from a large enough area to erect the greenhouse, everyone pitched in to put the contraption back together like some giant jigsaw puzzle.

  Now she used every possible spare container to start the seedlings, and, as his mother had taught him each spring back in Issaquah, Graham scavenged newspaper from the abandoned homes to craft spherical pots.

  They set up tables with scavenged grow lights, and Tala emphatically threatened anyone who even considered touching the emerging tender sprouts. Mold and bacteria posed the greatest threats, and she kept as watchful an eye over the plants as she did her newly acquired family.

  Graham chuckled to himself as he thought of Tala threatening Sheriff for sniffing at the seedlings the first and only time. She’d shaken her head at the beloved dog and pointed her finger at him. Sheriff had tilted his head to one side, perplexed by her peculiar actions. His big brown eyes conveyed his concern to Graham. Has she lost her mind? She’d made her point over the plants, though, and now Sheriff didn’t even get close to the tables.

  These days no one acknowledged the scars Tala had suffered at the hands of her two horrible kidnappers. Graham had happily cut the cast off her leg after Clarisse pronounced the bone healed enough. They made a grand production of cast-break day, turning it into a celebration of sorts; they needed all the celebrations, both minute and grand. Tala limped about gingerly for a week or two, and Graham helped her stretch out her calf muscles, but soon she walked perfectly fine on her own. Her outside scars had healed well.

  But Graham growled to himself when his mind drifted to the thought of Tala’s inside scars. In truth, she’d lucked out with the incident and refused to admit—to him or anyone else—the terror he knew she’d felt. If it hadn’t been for Dalton’s and Rick’s invasive tactics, Tala’s fate would have been much worse. Regretting Sam’s fate beat out the fact that he didn’t die of the virus and instead became a carrier. His suffering from being separated from his daughter because of this sacrifice was hard to bear.

  Graham’s mind drifted now. He and Tala had become close, in some ways closer than he and his wife had ever been, because of their recently shared circumstances. Tala’s sudden distance told him something bothered her, something beyond Ennis’s deteriorating condition. Her silence worried him because he knew her well enough to come easily to the conclusion that, for some reason, she now kept something from him—something important.

  Ennis turned the knob of the door, signaling Graham to open it for him. The old man had neglected to tuck in his shirttails, like he usually did, but he had no one to impress these days. They all looked more unkempt as the winter wore on. Ennis seemed exhausted from this little journey to the bathroom. He leaned on Graham’s arm.

  “Do you want to sit by the fire?” Graham asked again. The old man’s frail hands continued to shake, and the draft seeping through the cracks had them all wearing double layers.

  “Yeah, I’ll sit in there.” It was good to hear a bit of strength in his gravelly voice. “Where’s my girl?”

  Happy for the first real sign of clarity, Graham asked, “You mean Macy?”

  “Yeah, Macy. Where’s she at?”

  “She’s coming. Don’t worry, she’ll be here soon.” Graham guided him to the rocker by the woodstove in the living room. He settled Ennis down into the chair and grabbed the blanket draped over the back, tucking it around him. He added another log to the fire, then poked at the embers a bit, sending sparks flying within the enameled cast iron hold. After he had closed the latch, he asked Ennis, “Are you in any pain?”

  “Nah, I’m all right.”

  Graham doubted this; he’d seen Ennis become punier over the passing weeks. He wished he had a cure to keep the old man with them longer, especially for Macy’s sake. She’d become especially close to Ennis in recent months and would often read to him in the evenings after dinner from the various books Graham managed to scavenge. Macy would finish one chapter each evening, and shortly after, Ennis would rise and Graham would help him to his bunk for the night.

  In the early morning Sam rose first and would assist Ennis into his chair by the fire and set him up with his coffee before heading out for the day. They’d all come to love Ennis so much, and Graham feared his inevitable death would be a real blow to the group.

  They both looked up as Tala came through the front door, closing it quickly to preserve the warmth inside the cabin. Her earlier frown lines disappeared suddenly at the sight of Ennis up and about, and she flashed a thankful smile toward Graham. It removed all his doubts about secrets being kept.

  “Good morning, Ennis. You ready for coffee?” Tala removed her outerwear and quickly reached down to hug the old man.

  “No. You two gotta stop fussin’ over me,” Ennis said.

  “We’re not fussing. We’re trying to care for you. You’d do the same for us,” Graham told him.

  “No, I would not! You’re too much trouble to fuss over,” Ennis said to fluster them. He seemed proud of himself for the dig and laughed out loud.

  Tala smiled at Graham and murmured, “At least he still cracks jokes.” Out of the old man’s sight, Graham shook his head.

  “I’ll bring your coffee in a minute,” Tala said, raising her voice a bit so he could hear her. She bent down to kiss him. Graham motioned for her to leave them alone to talk, in an effort to preserve Ennis’s dignity.

  “I could use some banana bread,” Ennis called after her. “I miss banana bread.” He held out both of his old gnarled hands, shaking as he formed a rectangle shape.

  “I doubt we’ll have any bananas around here for a long time,” Graham said. He felt the old man’s head for any sign of fever again. “In all seriousness, Ennis, you have a fever. I think you’re in pain and keeping it to yourself. You’re also not drinking anything. Do you have an infection?”

  The old man huffed and looked down into his lap. “I do not want you to waste your medicine on me. I’m on my way out, Graham. Them kids, Tala, they might need them more—later. They do not make them anymore, you know that?”

  The admission shocked and angered Graham. “How long’s this been going on, Ennis? Hell, we can get more meds. Yeah, they don’t make them anymore but there are sure as hell more supplies nearby. You cannot sacrifice yourself like this for us. Jesus, Ennis.” He reached for the old man’s face again, but Ennis tried to bat his hand away. “No, Ennis, knock it off, man. Are you even going? You know what I mean.” He tried to whisper it.

  “No, not muc
h. Hurts to go,” he admitted.

  “God dammit! Tala, get him some water and the antibiotics,” he yelled, ignoring Ennis’s protests as he rose to take what Tala brought in.

  She handed him the water glass and meds. “Go easy on him, please, or he’ll shut down altogether. We do not have any painkillers for this and these antibiotics will take a few days to work.”

  “The old doc’s house probably has those pain meds,” Graham said as he handed the two capsules to the stubborn old man along with the water. “Take these and drink this,” he ordered, then remembered Tala’s words of caution. “Please.”

  Ennis accepted them both, looked up at Graham, and said stubbornly, “You’re not the boss of me.” He shook his head, but he took the medicine all the same. While he drank, Graham told him, “I am your boss right now, and that’s okay. We’ll trade, and you can be the boss of me later.”

  Graham looked behind him as Macy came in with cold rosy cheeks, “Tala, I’m ready to call in. Any news to report?”

  “Yeah, tell them Sam, Mark, and Marcy are leaving in the morning on our last hunt for mule deer this season,” Tala said. Graham was grateful she didn’t mention Ennis’s condition; best they keep it to themselves for the time being.

  “All right, Macy said, rolling her eyes. “Not having them around for a while will be nice.” She went into the bunkroom and sat at the table set up with the radio to the prepper camp. Communicating daily became her routine chore now—to make a check and relay news each morning.

  Macy depressed the microphone’s button. “Hi, Rick, Macy here,” she said.

  “No, no, no, you’re doing the entry all wrong,” Rick said.

  “Why do I have to use the Twin Two call sign? You don’t use a call sign,” Macy complained emphatically.

  “Rick is my call sign. I don’t make up the rules, I just enforce them,” he said, kidding her with the old cliché.

  “Fine. Twin Two here,” Macy said with as much mustered sarcasm as the occasion called for.

  “Much better,” Rick said. “Whatcha got this morning?”

  “All is well. Sam, Mark, and Marcy are leaving on a three-day hunt, going north for mule deer tomorrow morning,” she said.

  “Okay, sounds good. We’ll be free of the north exit by 0800. All is quiet here, except we’re having a banjo tournament. We discovered there really is a Bigfoot, and we’re having a pizza party. Sorry, you guys aren’t invited,” he said teasing her.

  Macy didn’t bite; she used her deadpan voice instead. “I’ll share the good news. Have a spectacular day, Rick; Twin Two out,” she said, barely acknowledging Rick’s exit call before she hung up.

  Macy often found Rick exasperating. Why they still went by what she considered an expired procedure mystified her. She liked that term, expired procedure, and always used it in references to school, politics, and braces. Only 2 percent of the population still alive meant the chance of an unknown tapping into their radio frequency was highly unlikely. Still, she enjoyed having a camp job that gave her an important responsibility, and she’d volunteered for it willingly. After the call ended, she wrote in the log, noting the time and response, leaving out the banter part, and went back into the kitchen to check in with Tala.

  “I’m headed out for watch now,” Macy said as she passed through, only to find Tala leaning over the sink, with her eyes closed, and breathing deeply. “Are you okay?” Macy asked, alarmed.

  Tala quickly put her hand up behind her to ward Macy off. “I’m fine. I’m fine. I think I didn’t get enough sleep, is all.”

  “Yeah, I heard you up early this morning. Did you eat something that was past its prime?”

  “No, I don’t think so. I’ll be fine, go ahead to guard duty.”

  “Okay,” Macy muttered, still concerned. She hadn’t seen Tala this way before. Anyone coming down with an illness concerned them all. Naturally, fearing sickness after the pandemic came easily. For now Macy let her suspicions go, but she vowed to herself to keep an extra eye on Tala all the same.

  On her way to gear up for the outdoors, Macy stopped to see Ennis. He gazed up at her, and when she smiled at him he reached up and patted her on the arm as if to affirm her existence, but no words trailed behind the effort. He absently returned his attention to the blaze of the woodstove, as Macy readjusted the blanket around him and donned her jacket, which Sam had lined with wolf fur to keep her warmed through in this prolonged, frigid winter. She holstered her pistol and slung her bow and quiver around her back.

  She kissed him on the cheek. “Bye, mister.”

  Ennis peered up into her blue eyes again. “Yep. You be careful, girl. Keep your ears open, your eyes steady, and trust your instincts. Always trust your instincts out there. They’ll save your life.”

  “I will, Ennis.” She patted him, and he held her hand a moment too long. She smiled at him and pulled away.

  ~ ~ ~

  Macy had to blink to let her eyes adjust to the bright morning light reflecting off the snow. The quick rhythm of Bang shoveling a trail to the chicken coop with his little shovel greeted her as she put on her gloves. Graham tinkered under the hood of the Scout, topping off fluids for the hunting party. “We’re up, Bang,” she shouted. “Guard duty!”

  “Did you call in?” Graham asked.

  “Yes, Graham. It’s all good.”

  “Did he ask about the cameras again?”

  “No, I think he’s given up on that one.”

  “Last time I talked to him, he brought the subject up and griped about the injustice. I told him to take it up with Sam. Rick’s not often without something to say,” Graham chuckled, lowering the hood with a clank.

  “Too bad. I can’t believe they spied on us for so long.”

  “Well, it’s a good thing, considering what happened.”

  “He still insists I use Twin Two,” Macy said dryly.

  Graham laughed out loud while Bang ran up to Macy, ready to go on duty.

  “Any eggs yet?” she asked Bang.

  “Nope, not yet. I think the weather is still too cold for them.”

  Macy handed him a hand warmer Tala had made with rice sewn into little flannel bags warmed in the oven right alongside breakfast. She kept them by the door in the morning so the watchers’ hands wouldn’t freeze. Macy put one in each of Bang’s pockets and helped him to zip up his jacket.

  “I get the lake today,” she told him with a smile.

  “I know. See ya,” Bang said, and skipped away toward the driveway with Sheriff giving chase behind him. The lakeside provided more entertainment with wildlife than did driveway duty.

  Macy waved at Graham, who waved back as she walked down the shoveled trail to the lake. The snow crunched and compressed beneath her boots as she walked. She squinted her eyes at the overwhelming brightness, the sun reflecting off the white snow in the clearing. Down the trail and in the shade, the temperature dropped further. Rick had an outside camera on her, though she’d forgotten exactly where, and she waved a greeting blindly toward its general area. It was all in the name of security, but having eyes everywhere still gave Macy the creeps. She didn’t like always being spied on.

  Hearing her twin, Marcy, stirring in the deer blind, she buffered herself for the possible quarrel she had come to expect these days.

  “You’re late again,” Marcy accused.

  “I am not. Get off your high horse, Marcy. I just got here.”

  “Remember, girls—no arguing!” Graham’s voice came over the handheld radio, warning them both.

  Marcy thrust the radio into her sister’s hand. “You started it.”

  “Stop doing this, Marcy. I don’t want to clean out the waste box again, do you?” Macy whispered sternly while holding the radio muffled against her jacket.

  Marcy stomped off up the trail without another word, and Macy wondered why her sister had a need to drive a wedge of discontent between them every chance she got. She huffed out a breath, then braced her boot toe on the first step of the deer
stand as she climbed up into position. She checked the perimeter with the binoculars they kept in the stand. Other than a small gray deer trying to sip from the frozen shoreline to the west of the lake, isolation reigned. She called in her report to Graham, knowing he would be expecting it on time. Afterward, she sat back and reflected on her troubled relationship with her twin.

  Happy that Marcy would be gone for a few days, Macy couldn’t understand her sister took every opportunity to needle her about something, anything. They were turning sixteen next month, and Tala planned to make a real cake for them—if one of the chickens laid an egg. Macy scoffed at herself. Last year at this time, she’d selfishly begged her mom and dad for an iPod, and now she looked forward to a chicken laying an egg so a simple cake might commemorate her and her sister’s day of birth. They had lived on, despite the fall. So much had changed in only a few months.

  A tear slid down her cheek anyway. She missed her mom and dad more than anything. She’d almost trade Marcy for either one of them right now. Almost.

  The honking of approaching geese alerted Macy before she could see them, circling around and landing on the frozen lake. “Noisy birds,” she said to herself. They reminded her of SeaTac Airport, where the planes would arc around as they lined up to come in for a landing; that seemed so distant now.

  Her melancholy was broken by a gray shape darting out from the opposite end of the lake, chasing one of the waterfowl and sliding on the ice. Her heartbeat hastened until she felt the pounding even in her slim wrists. She drew icy air sharply into her lungs, depressed the microphone on the radio, and repeated in an intentionally calm voice three times, the way Rick had trained her, “Wolf on the lake, wolf on the lake, wolf on the lake.”

  Almost instantly, Graham, Sam, and Mark charged down the trail. Always armed and ready, the men were a formidable crew in any contingency. A wolf or bear sighting always meant serious business: the potential for meat and fur.

  As Macy watched, two more of the dark animals raced onto the ice, but she didn’t even try to aim at the creatures with her pistol or bow. The three men rushed past her and got into position. The three wolves were within sight, and if there wasn’t a potential for a good hunt, the scene would have been comical: the wolves slipped and slid on the ice as the geese easily flapped and flew away.