Cinder Road (Scorch Series Romance Thriller Book 2)

by Toby Neal

  Stripped of everything but a couple of guns and his two hands, platonically working alongside the woman he loved, he’d found a quiet contentment. Occasional ideas about stealing a car or otherwise speeding up their journey flitted through his mind, but he didn’t want to hasten the trip.

  This might be all the time he ever had alone with Avital.

  Things would change once they reached the Haven—they’d be safe, but their relationship would be different. Their friendship was already verging on too intimate, but with no one to see except strangers, it was fine. He pictured his mother’s deep frown and sharp eyes—if she saw the way they occasionally held hands while they walked, the way Avital pushed the hair off his forehead sometimes, the little touches and caresses that made up their life together—Ana Luciano would know that those gestures weren’t innocent, not on Dolf’s part, anyway.

  Not on Avital’s either, he suspected. But the ghost of Nando and their horrible mistake on the night of his funeral kept him out in the cold, and her wrapped up in her sleeping bag with a dog.

  They reached a farm one day, tidy and busy with children and animals, and per usual they walked up to the house. The woman who met them at the door was massively pregnant, her belly distended in a smock covered by an apron, and she was holding a two-way radio.

  “Hello. I’m a doctor, I’d like to trade food and shelter for medical care,” Avital said, beginning her spiel.

  Dolf’s gaze never left the radio. “And I’d like to see if there is anything I can do for work to earn use of your radio,” he added.

  “Sure. My husband’s out harvesting the last of this year’s potato crops. As you can see we have a lot of kids but not enough adults. My sister and brother-in-law were both lost in the Scorching, leaving us with two of theirs, plus we’ve got two of our own.” She wiped at her forehead and glanced down at her stomach. “And a third on the way.” She smiled at them, her joy at impending motherhood obvious. Her smile seemed to say—Life went on, and isn’t it beautiful?

  The woman looked over at Dolf. “If you could help bale up the alfalfa drying in the barn for this winter’s animal feed, that would be a huge help.” Her gaze returned to Avital. “And I’ve been having contractions all day. I haven’t seen a doctor in some time but I can feel that the baby’s in the right position. My due date was three days ago,” the woman told Avital. “Maybe you could check me out?”

  The four children, all under the age of nine, exclaimed over their pets as the women went into the house, then the older boy and girl took Dolf to the barn. The boy showed him the baler machine. “You have to feed the alfalfa in here, and the compactor wire works like this, and feeds out here to bundle it.”

  Dolf and the two kids made a good deal of progress on the mountain of sweet alfalfa in the barn. When he’d put in four hours, Avital arrived with a huge pitcher of lemonade, a sandwich, the radio, and a frown on her face. “Sit down and eat this, then call JT. We’re going to be here awhile.”

  “Why?” Dolf’s mouth was already full of the delicious sandwich, made of ham on homemade bread, slathered with mustard and chock full of garden greens, everything likely produced right here on the farm. That’s what the Haven would be like. He felt the first glimmer of anticipation to get there.

  “Penny, the mom—she’s in labor. There’s no midwife or medical care around for miles. She thinks I was meant to be here.” Avital smiled, but Dolf thought apprehensively of all the movies he’d seen featuring women screaming in agony.

  “Isn’t that…dangerous?”

  Avital shrugged. “Birth is natural. We women are designed to do it. Is it painful? Yes. Sometimes dangerous? Sure. But it’s not the medical procedure we’ve made it. Women have been having babies at home for thousands of years.” Her fingers were tapping against her thigh.

  Avital was never nervous about treating people. She waded right in, rolled up her sleeves, set the bone, stanched the blood, lanced the boil. She’d delivered babies before. Why was she nervous talking about it with him now?

  Could she be pregnant? Was that why she was sick, why her breasts strained her shirt even though they’d been on starvation rations half the time and walking the rest?

  Dolf wondered how he could have been so dense. A parasite? She must think him an idiot. He opened his mouth to ask her, but she thrust the radio into his hand.

  “I’d better get back. Tell everyone hi for me.” She walked quickly toward the house.

  Nando would live on in their child.

  He’d ask her later. Alcohol might help him find the courage—if the farmer had any. Dolf finished his sandwich, washed it down with lemonade, and dialed the frequency for the Haven.

  “Calling Stone Bear. Come in, Stone Bear. This is…Tin Man.” The old nickname sounded false to him—like a costume. He’d spent his life being identified as the heartless twin, but three weeks after his brother had died, he knew the name no longer fit.

  A buzz of static.

  He called again. No answer.

  Dolf stood to his feet slowly, his back aching, discouragement heavy. A man appeared, framed in the barn’s doorway.

  “I’m Fred Stuckie.” The farmer advanced with his hand out. Stuckie was prime age to get the flu—in his late thirties, balding early, with a powerful build and a work-worn hand that shook Dolf’s. “Couldn’t be more grateful that you and your wife arrived in time to help Penny with this baby.”

  Dolf didn’t bother correcting him about their marital status—it sounded too good to him, and soon they’d be on their way, so what did it matter?

  “Glad we could be of service.” Dolf handed the man the radio. “I was trying to get hold of my family in Idaho. Wasn’t able to, but I thank you for the use of the radio.”

  “You certainly earned it. Got a lot done here.”

  “I learned to bale hay. Seems like I learn something new every day on the road.”

  Fred smiled, but his eyes strayed back to the house. Maybe it would be best for both of them to stay distracted while his wife was in labor. “Why don’t we finish all the hay you’ve got in the loft? I’m sure we’ll be on the road in no time, and you won’t have adult help.”

  Stuckie glanced over at him. “I’ve got to get in there. My wife’s in labor. I’ve got to be with her.”

  Dolf’s stomach clenched. Of course, he’d want to be with his wife. If Avital were in labor, Dolf wouldn’t leave her side.

  “I can watch the kids for you.” It just popped out. Was he nuts? Taking on four kids under the age of nine? He didn’t have a clue about kids!

  The relief that washed over the farmer’s face made it worth it. “That would be great. Thank you. I’ll get the kids out here.” He called for them, and the children returned to the barn with Butch and Slash. Fred wrung Dolf’s hand in gratitude before jogging back to the house.

  Dolf heard a sound, and turned around to see the kids laughing over a fallen pile of firewood. “Alright, kids, let’s clean this up.”

  Dolf was relieved to have something to do. His chest was tight with apprehension—Penny was in labor, and Avital was nervous. That wasn’t like her. These children could lose their mother today.

  Chapter Twenty

  Avital

  Penny labored into the new day. She rested on her knees in the big clawfoot tub filled with warm water, her upper body draped over the end. Her husband sat on a stool near her head, holding her hands. Candles lined the windowsill, the wicks flickering. The window behind them let in the pale gray of dawn, lighting them in its gentle glow, softening the edges of everything.

  Another contraction came, and Penny squeezed Fred’s hands. His eyes focused on her and his mouth set into a grim line. Penny released deep, guttural moans. The woman was in another world, on another plane of existence. After more than twelve hours of labor, she appeared both exhausted and yet incredibly strong.

  Fred’s shoulders rounded forward towards her. His back cramped and Avital could see the muscles quiver, but he stayed put, ne
ver leaving his wife’s side.

  This was true strength. Watching this couple was watching human power at work.

  Avital dipped her stethoscope into the water and listened to the baby’s heartbeat: steady and strong. Another contraction came and Penny arched into it, moaning, her forearms bunched and her hands clenched in her husband’s.

  Fred encouraged the sounds that his wife made. “That’s it, baby. You’re doing perfect. Just perfect.” When the contraction passed, Fred leaned over and picked up a glass of water, placing a straw in it to his wife’s lips. She drank, and then rested her forehead against the side of the tub. Avital retreated to the doorway, giving them space.

  “I think it’s time to push.” Penny looked over at Avital.

  Avital returned to her knees next to the tub and checked Penny. She was fully dilated. It was time. “Here or on the bed?”

  “The bed,” Penny huffed.

  Fred and Avital helped her up. Penny’s belly hung low and deep. The baby was in her pelvis, ready to emerge, and Penny’s legs shook as she stepped out of the tub. A contraction hit, and she bent her knees, squatting, her face contorting and every vein in her body swelling as she pushed. It wasn’t a decision that Penny made, or an order that Avital gave—it was nature, it was timeless.

  Fred held one arm and Avital the other as the contraction slowly abated.

  Penny’s breath came in short gasping bursts and she squeezed Avital’s hand.

  They got Penny up and moved her into the bedroom.

  Penny had prepared, and there was a waterproof cover under the sheet so that the mattress was protected. Fresh towels and swaddle blankets waited for this moment on the bedside table.

  Fred got in the bed first, propping himself against the headboard, and his wife fit into the V of his legs.

  Fred Stuckie was larger than his wife, even in her incredibly huge last moments of pregnancy. Penny settled her hands on his thighs as he rested his big palms on her stomach. Another contraction tightened the dome of her belly, and Penny’s abdomen hardened and squared. Avital saw the baby kicking, its feet pressing at the sides of the womb as it pushed its way down into the birth canal. It wouldn’t be long now.

  An hour later Avital could see the head crowning at the height of a contraction, but as Penny let up, the baby disappeared again. Penny’s strength was flagging.

  This was not good.

  Penny’s contractions had slowed. Between them she rested, her head against her husband’s chest, her eyes closed, breathing even and slow. Fred held the glass of water and fit the straw between her lips. She sucked at it thirstily.

  There was something wrong. Maybe the cord was around the baby’s neck, or maybe it was shoulder dysplasia, a very dangerous condition outside a hospital.

  Avital had delivered over twenty babies in her career, but always in emergency rooms, so it was quick and wild. This one was slow and dangerous.

  “Penny.” Avital kept her voice low and gentle, her face serene. “The head will come out soon. When it does I might tell you to get onto your hands and knees. If I do, don’t ask me why. Just do it as quickly as possible.” Penny nodded, her gaze expressing total trust in Avital and in the process of bringing this baby into the world.

  Avital’s eyes flicked to Fred, seeing the strain tightening the skin across his brow. She gave him a slow nod, communicating that she had this. She wasn’t going to let anything happen to Penny or the baby.

  Another hour of pushing, and the contractions continued to slow. If the cord was around the child’s neck, the slowing contractions would allow it to stretch—keeping the baby from strangling. Avital listened to the heartbeat often, always finding it steady and fast. The baby was working to get down.

  “Okay, Penny, this is it. On the next contraction, give it all you’ve got and get the baby’s head out. Then you need to go slow. Okay? Short little breaths, short little pushes. Until I tell you.”

  Penny nodded. The contraction tightened around her like a fist, and her eyes screwed shut. Her entire body went rigid, trembling with the force of extreme effort as she bore down, every part of her pushing.

  The baby’s head emerged, and Avital glimpsed the bluish cord around the baby’s neck. She slipped a finger underneath it. The cord was warm and slippery, throbbing as it continued to provide oxygen and sustenance to the child.

  Thank God it was loose enough. She was able to slide it over the child’s head.

  Avital looked up at Penny, who was panting, giving the small pushes she’d asked for.

  “Another contraction is coming,” Penny gasped. “I don’t think I can hold back.”

  “Okay, go for it.”

  Penny pushed, and all at once the baby slid out, a smooth bundle of limbs, body, and perfection. Avital caught and held the child in two hands, supporting its neck and bottom. She lifted the baby, cord still attached, and placed the little girl on Penny’s chest. Penny’s eyes welled up as she cradled her daughter. “Hi,” Penny beamed. “Hi there, little one. Here you are.”

  The baby began to wail, sucking air and blowing it out in rage. Fred cupped the little head with his large palm. “It’s okay, sweetheart,” he told his new daughter, as his wife stroked the baby’s side.

  Avital grabbed a towel and rubbed the baby, bringing pink up to the surface of the skin as the baby howled, her eyes shut and mouth wide. Avital couldn’t stop grinning at how alive she was.

  “You’re okay, sweetie,” Penny leaned down to her daughter’s ear. “Mommy is here.”

  An hour later, Avital left the parents and their new child in bed together, all of them sleeping. She stood in the doorway and looked at them.

  It was such a beautiful scene. So deeply, wonderfully beautiful.

  Downstairs in the kitchen, she found Dolf alone. He was sitting at the table, a pot of coffee at his elbow, reading outdated papers from before the Scorch Flu stopped their delivery. “Everything okay?”

  Avital nodded. “Perfect.” Her voice broke. Tears filled her eyes. She covered her face with her hands.

  “What is it?” Dolf’s voice was strained with fear as he leaped to his feet. Avital shook her head and wiped her eyes but couldn’t speak, caught in a tidal wave of emotion. Dolf opened his arms and Avital reached out, gripping his shirt and pulling her face into his chest. She cried, quiet sobs muffled by his body as his arms surrounded her and pressed her close.

  He murmured her name softly into her hair. “Avi, Avi. Just rest. You’re with me now. Everything’s okay.”

  As they’d traveled together for the last few weeks she’d tried to convince herself that their relationship could be platonic, that they would be friends—and when the baby came, he’d be an uncle—a close, loving relative.

  But she wanted more.

  She wanted Dolf to hold her hands when she labored. She wanted his strong chest to lean into as she pushed their baby out into the world. She wanted Dolf to be with her.

  Dolf took care of her in a way Nando never could have. Her husband would have tried to take those kids on the bus with them to the Haven—but they never would have even made it that far. The two of them would have stayed in Philadelphia, trying to help until the city killed them.

  If Dolf hadn’t worked, planned, plotted, and schemed, orchestrating their escape with his Humvee and his weapons and his gold, with his insistence that she leave Philly, Avital would not have survived. She’d be dead, just like Nando—but without the loving burial. She would have been one of the last to go, but still food for the vultures. She shivered as horrendous images of buzzards pecking out her unseeing eyes assaulted her mind.

  Dolf smoothed her hair, running his hands down her back. “What’s wrong?” She just shook her head against his chest, still unable to speak.

  “Avital, are you pregnant?” Dolf’s voice was so quiet she almost didn’t hear him over her sobs. Avital swallowed her tears and looked up at him, blinking. It had taken him awhile to put all the pieces together, but he wasn’t an idiot.
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br />   She was drowning in Dolf’s intent gaze, and his eyes were the greenest she’d ever seen them, a shimmer of magic behind that deep brown, the same way Nando’s had become in the deepest moments of emotion or passion.

  Avital nodded, pulling her lip between her teeth, afraid that the things she wanted from him were impossible. His eyes softened and filled. He ran his thumb over her cheek, wiping away tears.

  “That’s the best news I’ve ever heard, Avital.”

  “It is?”

  “Of course. I’m so happy. Nando will live on.”

  Avital’s heart twisted. Dolf wasn’t claiming the baby as his. But it was, in every way that mattered. She wanted him not to be just an uncle, but a father. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you before. I didn’t know how to.”

  Dolf shook his head. “Shhh. You did everything perfectly. You’re perfect.”

  The echo of Fred Stuckie’s words to his wife was a balm to her. They stared into each other’s eyes, their bodies melded together, his hands warm on her back, squeezing her waist. Avital couldn’t step away. She didn’t want to.

  But Dolf did.

  He released her and turned towards the kitchen. “You need to eat something. You’ve been working all night. You’ve got to take care of yourself for the baby.”

  A chill replaced the warmth of Dolf’s body against her. Her arms were empty without him, her body longing for contact with his.

  “I can make fresh chicken eggs. They’re delicious.” Dolf opened the fridge and pulled some out. “I made omelets for the kids last night.” He took a pan out of the dish rack. “It’s the one thing I know how to make.” He grinned ruefully, and looked towards the staircase. “They’ll probably be up soon. I’ll get some breakfast going.”