by Ellis, Tara
“Doesn’t really matter,” Jay said. “He won’t be talking to anyone.”
“Where are we going?” Senator Jenson asked. Her hands were covered in blood and she looked more like a wild pioneer fresh from battle than a US Senator.
James glanced first at each of his men, before settling on the senator’s scared but hardened features. “We were sent to get you because you’re a threat,” he said evenly. “For whatever reason, General Montgomery believes my father is a threat, too. It’s time to find out why.”
Chapter 20
ETHAN
Miller Ranch, Mercy, Montana
Ethan leaned against the long wooden handle of the sickle and stared out over the field of billowing hay. The sun was about to set and was casting one of its incredibly colorful sunsets throughout the valley spread below them. It had been a warm day and the birds were out late, taking advantage of the early evening insects hovering over the tall grasses. While it was a mesmerizing view, and one Ethan would have been in awe of at any other time in his life, it instead caused a heavy sense of foreboding.
The colors of the sunset were wrong, the grass was too brown, and the birds’ flight patterns still often erratic. Although the sky was several shades away from night, the northern lights were already active, throwing additional shadows and hues into the increasingly unearthly landscape.
“It doesn’t seem right that it should look so beautiful,” Chloe said, moving up next to him.
He glanced over at her and marveled again at how someone so small could contain so much energy and strength. She’d kept up with him the whole day, and while she might not be able to swing a sickle in as wide a span, she certainly held her own. Ethan knew she probably understood why the scene bothered him, and she’d pretty much nailed it. “Yeah,” he agreed. “The destruction of the Earth should be…less colorful.”
Chloe snorted and then punched him in the arm.
“Ouch!” he quipped, rubbing at his shoulder only half-jokingly.
“Breaktime’s over, Romeo. Sam just got here so he’s going to help Crissy and Sandy haul the last of the bales over to the barn.” Chloe raised the sickle over her head and made a ridiculous calling noise like a Jawa creature from Star Wars.
Laughing, Ethan joined her, and together they sprinted back to the last row they’d started cutting, sounding like two lunatics who had lost their minds.
Fifteen minutes later, his dad rode up on Lilly and called out a loud greeting to prevent any accidental hacking. Ethan and Chloe were long past their playfulness and back into a steady cadence of swinging and sweating to an internal rhythm. Sucking in a breath of dusty air, Ethan wiped at his forehead as he looked up at his dad.
“It’s long past quitting time,” Tom said, his face in shadows. The last of the sun’s rays were barely reaching up from behind the mountains to the west and they were probably getting more illumination from the northern lights. “You must be starving.”
“Famished,” Chloe answered. Stretching her back, she squinted over to where Bishop was still tying up another bundle of hay. “You guys about done?”
Tom tipped his hat back and shifted in the saddle, the leather creaking under his weight. “We’re calling that the last bale, so why don’t you head back to the house and get the fire going? Throw some of those fish on to cook that you caught this morning, Ethan. Crissy said there was a good batch of eggs today so we can cook up some omelets, too.”
“We’ll wait for Sam to cook the omelets,” Ethan said. “He’s the only one who can make ’em good, except for Grandma.”
“Crissy and your grandma are in the barn using the horses to arrange the bales,” Tom explained. “It’s like a giant jigsaw puzzle.”
“Perfect,” Chloe laughed. “Crissy loves puzzles. Come on,” she said, grabbing at Ethan’s arm and already pulling him down the hill.
“Tell Sam to hurry up,” Ethan called to his dad as they marched away. The older man had been working at the spring with Danny for most of the day. His arrival probably meant that they’d all finished the water shelter, which was a good thing. Ethan was eager to talk with him about it, and to find out how the council meeting that morning went. All he got out of his dad before he started working was the shocking news that he was now the interim mayor of Mercy. Which was cool and everything, but he also wanted to know what they’d said about the cave and indoor farming.
The hay field sat on a hill to the southeast and wasn’t too far from the house. The barn was in the opposite direction, so Ethan and Chloe opted to carry the tools back with them to the farmhouse, rather than go the extra distance. Resting the sickle in the crook of his arm as they walked, Ethan gingerly removed his work gloves, exposing several blisters.
Chloe glanced over and wrinkled her nose. “I’m afraid to take mine off without being close to some cold water and a bottle of numbing Bactine. I’m pretty sure I’ve got blisters on top of blisters.”
“With Dad and Bishop taking off tomorrow morning, it’s only going to get harder,” Ethan said, already regretting exposing his open wounds to the air. He decided it would hurt more to pull the gloves back on, so he stuffed them into the back pocket of his dirty jeans and slung the blade over his shoulder.
“Are you worried about them?” Chloe asked. She sounded much less sarcastic than usual.
Ethan scratched at a new mosquito bite on his forehead. It was ironic that of all the things in the world, the annoying insect thrived in the wake of the radiation. He shrugged in response, but then realized Chloe probably couldn’t see him. It was almost dark. “I guess so. I mean, those outlaws are pretty dangerous, but I don’t think they stand much of a chance against us. Sheriff Waters worked as a cop in a big city for a long time, and some of the guys who volunteered to go are veterans and good at handling guns. I don’t know much about Bishop, but my dad is…well, he’s my dad. He can be kinda scary when he’s mad.”
“So can Bishop,” Chloe said quietly.
Ethan looked sideways at her, unsure by what she meant. “How so?”
She was using her sickle like a walking stick, and Ethan was distracted by how stunning Chloe looked in the gathering darkness. There was just enough purple left in her short, dark hair to make it stand out in the fading light, and there was something about the way she held herself; a confidence he was drawn to. He felt stronger when he was around her.
“You heard about how that kid Jason and his goons tried to attack me and your grandma up at the lake?” she asked, her eyes widening at the memory and flashing in the light cast on them now from overhead.
Ethan tried to ignore the intensity of the northern lights and instead focused on Chloe. “Yeah, I heard. Grandma said Bishop disarmed one of the guys, so I assume he can hold his own in a fight.”
Shaking her head, Chloe’s brows pinched together in a pained expression. “Yeah, something like that.”
“I guess that means he’ll be someone good to have there tomorrow,” Ethan offered, not sure what else to say. “Dad said Danny’s going to come stay with us while he’s gone.”
“Good. We can use all the help we can get if we ever want to finish cutting all of that hay,” Chloe sighed. “I sure hope those cows appreciate it.”
“We’ll appreciate it when we’re still eating beef next year,” Ethan laughed, then stopped when he realized what he said. “I mean, you’ll probably be gone by then. You know, with your parents back in Washington.”
Chloe’s steps faltered slightly and Ethan rolled his eyes at himself, thankful it was dark enough that she couldn’t see him. “Caleb will find them,” he offered lamely.
“He’s still trying,” Chloe said after a brief hesitation. “I don’t know when it’ll be, but someday I’ll find out where they are, and if they’re still alive.”
“They are,” Ethan insisted, and reached out in the dark to find her hand. He was relieved when instead of pulling away, she grasped his back, even though it made his blisters burn.
“When are you going
to take me to see Henry’s Hollow?” Chloe said, lightening the tone. She swung his hand back and forth like they were Hansel and Gretel on their way back to their house. It was hard not to play along.
“I guess I do owe you,” Ethan said, lengthening his stride to keep up with her short, quick steps. “If we get enough done in the field tomorrow, maybe the next day we can take an extra-long lunch break and take a ride over there. I want to check out the new shelter anyway.”
“It’s a date,” Chloe said, and squeezed his hand a little tighter. After a moment, she slowed and pulled his arm back, forcing him to stop. He turned expectantly to her, and was surprised when he saw how serious her expression was. “I’m glad you’re not going tomorrow.” Moving the sickle to her other side, Chloe stepped in closer to him so he could see her face. “I’d be super worried about you.”
Ethan smiled. For the first time in what was only weeks but felt like a lifetime, he didn’t have a heavy weight pushing him into the ground. Relief flooded him, prompted by the knowledge that he would be okay. With the love of his family and new friends, he would have the strength to combat the oppressing anxiety he’d been suffering. He knew he still had the capacity to feel alive and experience something that seemed impossible just days before. Joy.
Chapter 21
TOM
Miller Ranch, Mercy, Montana
Tom was resisting the urge to make some coffee, especially since it meant stoking the fire back up in the kitchen. It was already too hot inside the house. As he approached the kitchen while continuing the internal debate with himself, he saw that there was already a candle burning, and his mom was sitting at the counter, mug in hand.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, sliding onto the stool next to her. Based on the lack of enticing aroma, he guessed she was drinking tea.
“I thought I’d sleep better once you were back,” Sandy said softly, swirling the contents of the half-empty cup. “I just can’t seem to get my mind to shut off once I’ve closed my eyes. And it’s so damn dark.”
Tom put an arm around his mother’s shoulders and noticed for the first time how much weight she’d lost. She was never what he’d call overweight, but rather sturdy. He couldn’t ever remember feeling her bones poke through her robe the way they were now. It made Tom want to protect her even more, and he lightened his grip, afraid he was going to hurt her. “Things will get better,” he said reassuringly. He wanted to promise her and opened his mouth to say the words, but he’d seen too much. Making a promise his mom knew Tom couldn’t keep wouldn’t help, and it wouldn’t make the darkness go away or the power come on.
Standing, Sandy slid out from under her son’s arm and began going through the motions of making him a cup of tea. “You know, your father almost ran for mayor once, a few years before he got sick.”
Tom didn’t try to hide his surprise. “Dad? Run for office? I never took him for much of a politician. I don’t know how many times, or different variations, I heard of the story when he got in the fight with one of the councilmen during an open meeting in city hall.”
Sandy scoffed as she poured the tea. “That was a long time ago, and Ed had it comin’. He would have won had he run. Only reason he didn’t was because Ned decided at the last minute to serve for one more term, so he pulled his hat out of the race.”
Tom took the steaming cup from his mom and smiled in disbelief. “Huh, I guess maybe Patty isn’t totally crazy after all.”
“Oh, Patty is crazy, all right,” Sandy laughed. Finishing the last sip in her cup, she took it to the sink and rinsed it out with the remaining hot water from the kettle before turning back to Tom. “Except she was right about you. You’re going to make a wonderful mayor, Thomas. I encouraged your dad to run again when Ned retired, but he was already sick by then. That was when you were living in Helena.”
“I’m sorry,” Tom said automatically.
“No,” Sandy urged, moving back to him and clasping both of his hands. “Don’t ever be sorry for going out into the world and finding yourself and living your own life. We all have to at some point unless we want to live with resentment and wondering what might have been. I’m just so happy you came home to Mercy. Not once, but twice now. When we’ve needed you most, you’re here, and now the town needs you, too.”
Standing, Tom pulled his mom in for a familiar, comforting embrace. “I’ll come back again, Mom.” he added, feeling confident enough to make that particular oath.
Nodding, Sandy pulled back and tried to avert her watery eyes. “You should get to bed now. You and Bishop have a long ride ahead of you tomorrow.”
Tom grinned at his mom, knowing better than to argue with her. “Yes, Mom. Just as soon as I finish going over a few things with Bishop. Goodnight,” he said as she walked down the hall, grateful to be back at Miller Ranch.
A few minutes later, he knocked on the bunkhouse door when he saw there was still some light spilling out through the curtained window. Sam answered it fast enough to indicate he hadn’t been in bed, and Tom nearly laughed when he saw the older man in his boxers. He was holding a notebook covered in writing, and his thick head of hair stuck up haphazardly in several directions. He looked like a crazed professor.
“Tom!” Sam said with some surprise. “Thought you were Bishop and was wondering why in the world he’d be knocking.”
“What are you working on?” Tom asked, unable to make much sense of the scribbled words on the paper.
“Oh! Just doing some more research into the different indoor growth methods, including hydroponics and terracing. It’s pretty fascinating stuff and I think there’s much more potential than we realize. The hardest part might be coming up with enough healthy seeds.”
Tom blinked at him a couple of times. “Okay…”
“Well Tom, you are Mayor Miller now, so perhaps that’s something you could look into, or get on a list somewhere,” Sam said, unable to contain his laughter at Tom’s expression.
Tom rolled his eyes at the cheap joke. “Sure, Sam. As soon as you fill out a form to make an official request.”
“Seriously, though,” Sam said quickly, tossing the notebook onto one of the beds behind him. “I think it’s great Patty named you mayor. There’s no doubt you’re the right person for the job. I’m just sorry I’m not going with you guys in the morning. Doesn’t feel right to stay behind.”
Tom started to reach out to pat Sam’s arm to reassure him, and hesitated when he realized the other man was still dressed in only his underwear. “We’ll definitely miss you,” he said, opting to rest his hand on the doorframe and lean against it. “Better to stay here, though, than to suffer the wrath of Dr. Olsen. Neither one of us would ever hear the end of it, from both her and Danny.”
“I’m sure to catch some grief from Danny tomorrow when she sees me in the dusty hay field,” Sam complained. “I don’t think I’ll ever be able to convince her that my lungs are healed.”
Tom scratched at his head and then peeked past Sam to confirm the room was empty. “As much as I like talking to you when you’re half-naked, I was looking for Bishop. Know where he is?”
Sam gestured to the building behind them. “I think that man hardly sleeps. He’s in there working on the wagon. See you in the morning,” he added as Tom gave a small wave and headed for the barn.
The interior was dimly lit by only one oil lamp hanging on a center peg, though it was enough for Tom to see that the main area of the barn was empty. The wagon wheel Bishop was working on was propped on a couple of sawhorses and there were tools on the ground near it, but no sign of the engineer.
Tom moved to the center of the barn and was about to call out for him when something made him hesitate. A sound that was off, maybe, or just a sense that he wasn’t alone with the horses. Standing there, Tom held his breath and tilted his head, listening.
There. The creaking of a board above him. Pivoting, Tom studied the underside of the floor that made up the loft area of the old barn. The forward section was still use
d for storing excess hay, and the back half was closed off. It used to serve as the original bunkhouse until Tom built the new, larger one. For the last few years the useless space housed boxes of old tax forms and other unwanted items.
As he moved to the base of the ladder, Tom heard another, unmistakable sound of someone moving around in the room. Frowning, he began to quietly climb the ladder. Bishop exploring the barn in itself wasn’t that odd. It was because he was doing it in the dead of the night that Tom got curious. And something else…instinct, told him it was because he was doing something he didn’t want anyone to know about. For that reason, Tom had every intention of seeing what it was, unannounced if possible.
The original wooden ladder had broken on him the last time he carried a box up it, and nearly caused Tom to take a nasty spill. That meant the one there now was new enough that it made hardly any noise as he made his way to the top. Once there, Tom hoisted himself through the opening in the floor and crouched, listening. There was an odd tapping noise that he hadn’t heard from below and a light spilled across the floor through the open door.
Standing, it took Tom four quick, long strides to cross the space and enter the room. He took the scene in rapidly and reacted without even thinking. A lantern was on the floor, while Bishop sat at an old desk with a headset on and what looked like a large ham radio in front of him. He’d been drumming out a message, to whom Tom couldn’t guess, and his hand was poised with a pencil over a notebook.
As Bishop stood and turned to face him, his face a mix of shock and anger, Tom was already on him. Grabbing the other man by the front of his shirt, Tom hauled him the rest of the way to his feet and slammed him up against the nearest wall. “What is this?” he demanded, shaking Bishop once for emphasis.
“What’s the matter with you?” Bishop retorted, not making any attempt to push back. “Caleb’s been teaching me how to use the radio. I’m just practicing.”
Tom’s fury wavered, and he wondered if maybe the current situation was a prime example of why he wasn’t mayor material. Was it possible he jumped to the wrong conclusion? Then, he caught the older man’s eyes flitting to the desk and back to Tom again. Turning his head, Tom saw that Bishop had been in the middle of writing something when he’d interrupted. There were several sheets of paper, but the top one was all that mattered to him. In bold letters was a word he recognized, followed by a confusing set of statements: