As the Ash Fell

by AJ Powers

  Kelsey was shivering and trying to warm herself by rubbing her arms. Clay lit two candles, and Kelsey sat down on the creaky bed. In an effort to try and be prepared for anything, Clay had a spare change of clothes packed away in one of the boxes in the corner. He opened it up and began to haphazardly toss things onto the floor to get to the bottom of the container. He pulled out a pair of jogging pants and a fleece sweatshirt and turned back to Kelsey.

  “Here,” he said and handed her the clothes. “Not exactly hot out of the dryer, but they aren’t wet.”

  Kelsey snatched them from his hand and began to take off her shirt. Clay reflexively turned around and faced away from her as she changed. All he heard was the rustling of clothes and chattering teeth.

  He removed his heavy coat and pulled up the sleeve of his shirt. He could see the impressions from the dog’s teeth on his arm, but as best as he could tell, it did not actually break the skin. A wave of relief flooded his body as he realized just how different his night would have been had he seen blood.

  “Okay,” Kelsey said, “I’m finished.”

  He turned around and saw her sitting on the bed in the dry clothes, her wet clothes in a pile on the floor at the foot of the bed. She was still shivering and trying to warm up. Clay picked up the blanket lying on the bed and wrapped it around her. He crouched down in front of her and rubbed her arms vigorously. After a few minutes, the shivering stopped, but he found himself continuing to rub her arms: softer, slower.

  Their eyes locked. Beads of water were dripping from the tips of her hair, her lips a tinge of blue and still quivering. He stared into her deep, green eyes—their faces just inches apart.

  “I love you, Kelsey.”

  Chapter 14

  Seconds felt like days as Clay waited for Kelsey to say something. Anything. She remained silent. Her expression, a mixture of shock and confliction, did not instill confidence in Clay. He had never uttered such words to a girl before; he had never had such feelings to share. Even though what he said was true, he was stunned he actually said it. He continued to wait for a response, growing more and more anxious. She drew a breath.

  “Oh, Clay,” she said and closed her eyes. She was silent for a few more seconds, then put her hands on his face and kissed his forehead.

  Clay wasn’t experienced when it came to romantic relationships, but it didn’t take an expert to know that her action was not congruent with his words. Clay had laid it all out on the table, and she had walked away.

  He slowly leaned back and ended up sitting on the floor, his head lowered in defeat. Kelsey began to cry softly.

  “I am so, so sorry Clay,” she said with a remorseful sincerity.

  She longed to hear him say those words, even from the night they met. She thought at first those feelings were a result of Nightingale syndrome: a stranger came to her aid, saved her life, and treated her with the utmost respect; he was chivalrous in a way that had all but died even before civilization had ended. The amorous attraction did not diminish, though. Over the following weeks, each time they went out, she felt as if their relationship grew stronger. Despite the romantic feelings both had for each other, a friendship developed first. Clay had even told her at one point that he viewed her as his best friend, dethroning Geoff from that role. Clay was not perfect—nobody was—but he was as close to perfection as anyone she had met. Which is why she desired, with all her being, to reply with the same three words Clay had just spoken.

  She couldn’t.

  Unfortunately, as perfect as Clay was, her life—dark times from her past, some not so long ago—was not worthy of someone as wonderful as him. She had tried to convince herself otherwise time and time again; that maybe she could be good enough for him. She had even dreamed about this moment. She dreamed she could verbalize how she truly felt. Yet, the day had finally arrived, and it would not turn out as it had in her fantasy.

  The room’s silence was broken up with the intensifying rain pounding on the garage roof from above, the occasional crack of thunder providing an ambience fitting for the mood. Kelsey leaned forward and put her hand on his shoulder. His initial reaction was to pull away, but he knew that such an action would only do more harm to their friendship. Despite the pain of rejection, he did not want to lose her as a friend.

  He eventually looked up at her and simply asked, “Why?”

  Though the two had grown so close over the past month and a half, Kelsey omitted various parts of her life she was too ashamed to tell him—memories she had willed herself to forget, despite them creeping into her thoughts on a daily basis. She wanted to bottle them up once more and shrug off his question. But she knew she owed him an explanation. He had to know why. Besides, she figured she knew how he would respond, anyway. It might ease the blow to both of them if she just told him.

  She took a deep breath and held it. Her mind was at war over whether or not to open that door. She didn’t know why it would matter, really. Whether he knew it or not, she had no intentions of them becoming anything more than friends. Perhaps if he knew, their friendship might even be stronger. She finally worked up the courage and began to speak, revealing a window into her past. Her memories consumed her, her words flowed easily as her mind’s eye recalled the darkness.

  It was the year after the ash fell. The previous winter had been brutal, and by that point, the electrical grid had become unstable at best. The economy was in shambles, a devastatingly high unemployment rate. Those fortunate enough to have jobs were mostly employed by the federal government to sift through the rubble and ash across the country. Everyone else was working to try and find a way to rebuild. It was a fruitless effort, however, and slowly the entire nation began its descent into a perpetual state of chaos.

  Kelsey and her mom had run out of things to trade. Their food supply was all but gone, and their little house on Franklin Street no longer had power, water, or gas. With winter coming, there was no other card to play except to pack up and leave. They would have to walk to a train station in El Paso in hopes of heading to Fort Worth so they could live in one of the FEMA camps that they had heard about on the radio.

  Like most people, Kelsey and her mother made that a final resort. Nobody was particularly eager to go live in a government run refugee camp with 100,000 other people, but desperate times were upon them. By the time they reached El Paso, there were no trains. They, along with dozens of other families, waited for days for the next train. It never came.

  After a week, they decided to start heading east on foot. Even at the age of thirteen, Kelsey knew they were never going to survive the season walking across the western half of Texas. She knew that winter would be their last.

  They had made it as far as Odessa, walking along I-20 when they heard a distant rumble, a sound that was becoming less and less common. The vehicle was traveling towards them and quickly went from a blurry spec to a large, roaring SUV approaching them in a hurry. It slowed down, eventually coming to a stop.

  “Looks like you two could use a ride,” a man said out of a half-rolled-down window.

  The temperatures outside had continued to plummet. Kelsey’s toes were numb; her fingers felt as if a thousand needles were jabbing her relentlessly. She had always been told not to talk to strangers and never get into a car with a stranger, but she realized it couldn’t be any worse than the alternative.

  “Please, Mom?” Kelsey asked.

  Her mom agreed, and they climbed into the SUV. The man indicated for Kelsey’s mom to get in the front seat.

  The man stuck is hand out, “My name is Denny.”

  “Victoria,” Kelsey’s mom replied and shook the man’s hand, “and back there is Kelsey.”

  “So where are you two headed? Maybe I can help get you there.”

  “Trying to get to Fort Worth, but we missed the train.”

  “Fort Worth? Well, I’m afraid I can’t take you all the way out there,” the man said as he cranked up the heat to help thaw his passengers. “From what I understand, the
trains stopped running out of there anyway. Something about several bridges being damaged or collapsed between DFW and Abilene. I guess some of those 6 pointers last month took their toll.”

  Victoria sighed.

  Without saying anything, the man threw the car into gear and slowly pulled back onto the road. He did a sharp U-turn and headed back in the direction he had just come. The SUV was quite elegant. Kelsey had more legroom than she thought possible, and all of the leather seats were heated. The cabin was filled with a heat she hadn’t felt since the last Texas summer before the eruption. It was blissful.

  “Well, I’ll tell you what,” the man said. “It looks as if you folks have had a rough few weeks and are in need of a place to stay.” The man looked over at Victoria who simply nodded. “I have a place just east of Midland. It’s a pretty large house, and I have plenty of food, water, power and—”

  “You still have power?” Victoria interrupted.

  “Have a few large generators and enough diesel to last another six months or more, and the solar panels can at least keep the necessities after that.”

  Kelsey was elated. Victoria was skeptical, but the prospect of soaking in a nice hot bath again clouded her judgment. She quickly snapped back to reality and realized this wouldn’t come without a catch.

  “Thank you, Denny, for your generous offer, but we don’t have any way of paying you, and I wouldn’t feel right just living there rent-free.”

  “Well, there are a couple of other families that are staying there as well. They help out around the house in various ways to earn their keep. It’s a nice arrangement, and I think you two would fit right in.”

  Victoria’s shoulders lowered; she cracked a smile for the first time in months, “That sounds delightful...Well, I can, of course, cook and clean. I’m also a fairly decent seamstress. To be honest, we didn’t have much of anything before the eruption, so we’re used to making things last longer than they should,” she said with a smile.

  “That sounds good to me,” he said and placed his hand on her leg, giving a gentle squeeze. “As long as you’re contributing like the others do, then you may stay as long as you like.”

  Victoria swallowed the lump in her throat and forced a smile. “Wonderful.”

  She fought back the tears and kept up the charade of excitement. It wouldn’t be the first time she had joined the world’s oldest profession. A few months ago, she had made a deal with a man for a can of beans and a small packet of almonds. She felt utterly numb afterwards, but she did what she had to do to keep her and Kelsey alive. That night, when they were able to have their first bite of food in nearly four days, she all but forgot about the dreadful morning she had endured.

  If what Denny said was true, though, then she and Kelsey would fare much better this time around. She thought it might even be possible to give Kelsey a better life now than she did before.

  When they arrived at the house, it was even better than either had imagined. The inside was almost uncomfortably warm, as it was in the car. Denny showed them around and introduced them to the other families who were staying there. One by one, each of the women introduced themselves and their children, first Leslie, then Nadia, and finally Jackie. It was abundantly clear that Denny was the only man in the house. There were two boys, though, but neither had even hit age 10 yet. Victoria had a pit in her stomach when she realized she and Kelsey would essentially become part of a polygamist family. She thought about taking Kelsey and leaving when a fourth woman came out from another room. She was, by far, the youngest of the group and couldn’t have been a day over twenty-one. In her hands was a large platter displaying a plump goose.

  “Oh my, I didn’t realize we would be having company,” the woman said and quickly put the tray down to introduce herself to the new arrivals. “My name is Crystal. Welcome!”

  Victoria and Kelsey gawked at the perfectly cooked bird sitting just a few feet away. Any contemplation of leaving the house had been forced out of their heads by the succulent aroma filling the room.

  Over time, Victoria and Kelsey settled in, and life almost seemed normal. The winter months were cold, but for the first time in over a year, they didn’t go to bed each night with the fear of not waking up the next morning. There was no shortage of food, just as Denny promised. Victoria appreciated the strong friendships that quickly developed with the other women which were something she hadn’t had since her sister Cassandra had died.

  Denny spent most of the days out trying to find food, supplies, and other stranded folks. He brought home another family a few months after Victoria and Kelsey—a woman named Yolanda and her son Robert. Then, a few days after their arrival, they were gone. Denny acted as if they had never come home with him; he just went about his business like every other day.

  Victoria’s trepidations when summoned to the bedroom gradually faded. Denny continually provided for Kelsey and her and acted—most of the time—like a husband to her. She came to accept that he was her husband and she was one of his wives. She realized the more accepting she became of this new life, the easier things would be for her and Kelsey, and she was right.

  Over the next year, the families grew closer together. With five women and twelve children, the household was always up to something. Once the diesel ran dry, many of the amenities were reduced, but even so, they still had daily TV watching times—Denny had looted an old library and had thousands of DVDs—as well as heated water, plenty of food, and even their monthly square dancing in the large open living room. It was a small community within a single home. It was strangely pleasant.

  Kelsey looked at Clay, her eyes swollen and red, tears streaming down her face, “But then everything changed.”

  “What happened?” Clay asked, a sick feeling panged his stomach as he started to postulate a conclusion in his head.

  “One night, as I was getting ready for bed, my mom came and got me. She said that she and Denny needed to talk with me in his bedroom. I didn’t think much of it at the time and went without question. My birthday was coming up, and I thought maybe he was going to do something special for me.

  “When we got to his bedroom, they had me sit on the bed and Mom…” Kelsey began to lose her composure and had to cry for several minutes before continuing. “She started talking to me about being a woman and pulling my weight for the family and that because Denny had been so good to us and had provided us with so much that I needed to…to lay with him.

  “I didn’t understand what she meant at first, but then she walked out of the room, and it became quite clear what she had meant.” Kelsey broke down again.

  Clay rubbed her shoulders but could sense she didn’t want to be touched and stopped.

  “I remember hearing awful, terrible screams in my head. Screams I wanted to cry out loud, but I don’t think I ever made a sound. I blocked out almost everything about what Denny did to me that night, but the thing that still haunts me to this day was hearing my mom weeping just outside the door. I kept hoping she would come in and rescue me from him, but she never did.

  “I didn’t leave my bed the whole next day. I was defiled. I was worthless. I thought over time I would get over it and things would return to normal, but not even a week later I was taken to his room again, and then again the following week, and the week after that…” she said as she wiped away tears from her face with the sleeve of the sweatshirt.

  “Kelsey, I am so…so sorry.” It was all Clay could say. He knew there were no words which could provide consolation to such malevolent actions.

  As if Clay hadn’t said anything, Kelsey continued. “One day while the rest of the family was outside, I came in for a drink of water and heard my mom talking with Denny in his room. She was pleading with him to stop forcing himself on me. That it wasn’t right and was slowly killing me. She wasn’t all that far off with that statement. I had many nights when I thought about dragging a blade across my wrist.

  “But Denny didn’t care. And when my mom grabbed his arm as he walke
d away, he turned around and smacked her with the back of his hand. She cried and held her face; I remember seeing blood pouring out of her nose. I’ll never forget what Denny said to her after that. ‘So you are going to start telling me how things should run here? How about I send you and your skank of a daughter back out into the cold? You think things were bad when I found you two? It’s 10 times worse now. Or how about I just deal with you like Yolanda? Maybe that would be the easier thing for me to do.’”

  Kelsey slowly shook her head; she stared blankly at the floor as she found herself lost in a nightmare. She continued, “I walked back outside to the rest of the family. The kids were playing some games while the other women were washing clothes. I didn’t know if Denny treated any of the other girls the same way or if it was just me. I felt completely dead inside and had no one to talk to about it. My mom was too ashamed. Over time she could barely look at me.

  “Less than a year later, I told my mom my stomach hurt. It didn’t take long to figure out that I was pregnant.”

  Clay’s eyes widened, which caused Kelsey to snap out of her long stare. “Dakota’s not your sister, is she?”

  Kelsey shook her head.

  “My mom told me to keep it a secret, not to tell anyone in the house, but after another month or so I started to show and we couldn’t keep telling Denny I was just under the weather. One night my mom told me that she was going to tell Denny. I couldn’t bear the thought of listening to that conversation, so I went to my room. On my way to bed, I grabbed a paring knife from the kitchen and put it to my wrist. I had finally psyched myself up enough to slice when the door opened. I only saw Denny’s silhouette standing in the doorway. I hid the knife under my pillow.

  “He shut the door, locked it, and walked over to the bed. He told me that my mom said I was ‘sick’ and that he was going to fix me up. He had a plastic prescription bottle in his hand and tapped out a pill. ‘Take this, and you’ll feel better in a few days.’