The Off Grid Survivor Box Set: Complete The Off Grid Survivor Series Books 1-4

by Connor Mccoy

  “You alone?” Conrad called through the wood.

  “Yeah. Why?” Camilla answered.

  “You can come in. You’ll see,” Conrad replied.

  Camilla turned the knob and pushed the door in. As soon as she stepped through the door, Nigel took her, ushered her through, and then quickly shut the door behind her.

  Conrad lay in the bed, bare chested, his arm outstretched. Darber stood there wearing gloves and a cloth mask over his face. Lance also stood in a corner of the room, his eyes darting from the box of medical supplies on the dresser to Conrad himself.

  “What is all this?” Camilla asked.

  “Oh, nothing too fancy, Cammie, just a little routine surgery,” Conrad said.

  Camilla’s mouth dropped open. “Surgery?”

  “I know. Surprise!” Conrad chuckled once, but quickly calmed down and grew serious when it became clear Camilla was in no mood for humor.

  “I have a confession to make. I brought Ron here for more than just Carla and my grandbaby. I’ve had odd feelings up and down my right arm for months now. It’s more than just old age aches. Doctor Ron checked me out, ran tests, did all that stuff. He confirmed it. There’s a tumor in my right arm.”

  Camilla’s eyes widened with panic. “Conrad! Good God!” She shook her head. “Is it—”

  “Will it kill me? Hell yes, it could. But the doctor here thinks there could be a chance I make it out of this alright. I had hoped it was nothing, but I guess it’s not the first time I’ve been wrong.”

  “How long have you known about this?” Camilla asked.

  “Just suspicions until I called in Doctor Ron. I wasn’t going to say anything until we had a plan in place. Now we have the supplies, we have the doctor, and we have the help. So, now it’s time for me to fight this thing.”

  Camilla breathed heavily. “Conrad…my God. Of all the things for you to spring on me! But still, why now?”

  Conrad sighed. “I know I probably don’t understand this whole life partner bit. To quote my son’s generation, I kinda suck at it. But I want to try making that right. Can you keep this between us?”

  Camilla folded her arms. “Alright.”

  Conrad smiled. “Thank you, baby.”

  “So, what do you want me to do?” Camilla asked.

  “The surgery team always could use another hand. But personally, I’d just rather have you in here while they do it. It’ll help me get through it.”

  Camilla nodded. “Sure.” She then smiled weakly.

  Darber cleared his throat. “Conrad, I think we should get started.”

  A few hours later, Darber finished wrapping up Conrad’s right arm. “Conrad, you were a model patient.” Then he laughed. “Of course, the anesthesia helped.”

  Conrad was sitting up in the bed, groggy, his flesh covered with sweat. Camilla sat beside him. “So, what’s going to happen now?” Camilla asked.

  “I’ll keep checking up on him as the days go by, but basically I had to remove a slight bit of muscle along with the tumor. With time, Conrad can regain most of the use of his arm, but he’ll have to go easy.”

  “Don’t worry about me,” Conrad said in a slurred voice. “Easy as pie.”

  “Oh please. Tomorrow you’ll be back out chopping wood as if nothing happened,” Camilla said with a chuckle.

  “I hope that is a joke,” Darber said, frowning. “Conrad can recover, but not if he exerts himself.”

  “Ron…” Conrad coughed. “Look, I got to prepare this house. The military. Out there. Probably shouldn’t have gone under the knife. But I’m…no good…to us dead.”

  “I’m sure you’ve bought yourself some time, but remember, tumors can reoccur. This doesn’t mean you’ll live to the ripe old age of ninety. We have to keep tabs on your health constantly until the day you die.”

  Nigel coughed. “Can we clean up? This room reeks.”

  Beside him, Lance waved a hand in front of his face. “Yeah, it smells like a flock of raccoons farted.”

  Conrad broke out in laughter, followed by a sudden yelp of pain. “Ah! Damn. Nigel, your boy has a great sense of humor, but maybe you two should let me be for a while. Go enjoy the hospitality of my home.”

  As Darber reached for the window and opened it, Camilla asked, “But what do we tell everyone?”

  “Tell them I’m just under the weather,” Conrad whispered, “I’m sixty. They won’t ask too many questions.”

  “But you will tell them eventually?” Camilla frowned.

  “Sure, sure.” Conrad sounded so out of it that Camilla couldn’t tell if he was being honest or not.

  Nigel, Lance, and Darber soon departed the room, leaving Camilla with Conrad. The pair just sat there in awkward silence. Finally, Camilla asked, “Maybe it would be easier, to help give you cover, if I stayed in here with you.”

  “My personal Florence Nightingale?” Conrad asked with a drowsy grin. “Sure. I’d love to have you.”

  Camilla nodded. “Alright.”

  It was a short while before Camilla broke the silence again. “Thanks for letting me in on this.”

  “No problem.” Conrad coughed. “You’re not going to kick my ass after this, are you?”

  Camilla smiled for the first time since the surgery began. “I think you know the answer to that.”

  That night, Nigel and Lance joined everyone for dinner, all except Conrad, who was conspicuously absent, and Tom, who still was laboring outside with the wood. Camilla helped Sarah cook dinner, with Carla occasionally joining in, though her attention remained with little Conrad.

  Sarah in particular was chatting up a storm with Nigel, asking him what commodities and products still were available in town. She had not been off the homestead since she had arrived, and was eager to hear any kind of detailed news about what was going on in any community—any community that wasn’t under the rule of thugs and mobsters.

  Lance, for his part, kept quiet and ate. The young man was very polite and exchanged a few words with Liam, but otherwise didn’t participate much in the conversation.

  Just then, Tom strolled through the doorway from the kitchen. Sawdust covered his flannel jacket. “Hey everybody.” He looked around. “So, where’s Conrad?”

  Camilla’s skin burned. “He’s not feeling well. He came down with something, a stomach bug probably.”

  Darber nodded. “He might be off his feet for a few days, if not a week or two. It all depends on how bad it is.”

  “Awwww.” Carla, still holding little Conrad, looked at the baby and said, “Hear that? Grandpa’s sick. We should make him a get well card.”

  “Really?” Tom raised an eyebrow. “Must have hit him pretty quick. He looked fine this morning.”

  “Well, sometimes a stomach bug can hit you without much warning,” Darber said.

  “No kidding. When I was trick-or-treating as a kid, I suddenly got so sick I puked on the sidewalk,” Liam said.

  Lance chuckled. “Yeah, when I was eight, I ate some bad chocolate from Halloween and spent two days in bed.”

  As the dinner drew to a close, Camilla turned to the plate of food sitting on the counter. She had prepared it separately and set it aside from the others. “I’ll take this to Conrad.”

  “I hope,” Lance began.

  Camilla turned her head. Lance swallowed and shrank back in his chair. “I hope he feels better soon.”

  Camilla smiled. “Thanks.”

  Camilla carried the plate down the hall to Conrad’s door. She tapped on the door three times in close succession.

  “Yeahlo,” Conrad said. He clearly had meant to say “Yeah,” but his tired voice slurred the word. Camilla opened the door and stepped inside.

  Conrad lay in bed, dressed in nightclothes. A small candle on the end table provided some light. He grasped a book on his lap. He probably had been reading it, but now was clearly too weak to read much more of it. Instead, he sat upright, just staring ahead through half-closed eyes.

  “Din-din’s
here.” Camilla smiled and raised the plate. “Broccoli, tomatoes, some mashed potatoes, and a little corn.”

  “Thanks.” Conrad closed his book and set it off to the side. Camilla moved the candle to Conrad’s dresser, then placed the plate on the end table. From there, she cut off a piece of broccoli and offered it to Conrad on a fork.

  “I’m not that weak,” Conrad said, “I can handle it.”

  “You look like you’re going to keel over. C’mon, you need to eat as much of this as you can.”

  Conrad nodded. “Yes, ma’am.” Then he ate the broccoli.

  A few bites of broccoli and tomatoes later, Conrad asked, “So, they bought the story?”

  “Ron really sold it. I don’t think anyone’s going to question a doctor.” Camilla cut some more tomato. “So, did Nigel and Ron pack up everything?”

  “Yep. And the smell is gone. We aired out the room. As far as anyone’s concerned, I’m just an old codger with a bad case of stomach flu.”

  Camilla looked at Conrad’s bandaged right arm. “As long as no one looks at your arm.”

  “I have plenty of long-sleeved shirts. I can cover that up,” Conrad replied.

  After feeding Conrad more tomato, Camilla remarked, “Still, don’t you think you should tell Liam? He is your son.”

  Conrad sighed. “I want to. I probably should.”

  “So, what’s the story?” Camilla asked.

  Conrad hesitated. “I feel like something’s going to happen soon. I don’t know what. Maybe it won’t be as bad as I’m fearing. But if it is, I figure Liam is going to want to be by my side.”

  “You don’t want him near you when that happens,” Camilla said.

  Conrad shook his head. “There’s no getting back what we could have had. If our world was peaceful, maybe we’d still enjoy twenty, thirty more years together. But he’s a father now. He’s got his own responsibilities, and he can’t give them up for me. I’m not going to let him.”

  Camilla was about to cut more broccoli, but then she noticed only a small piece remained anyway. “I still think it’s a damn shame you’ve been alone for so long without him.”

  Conrad reached out to Camilla, but his hand fell gently to his side. “This past year has felt like much longer than that. I’m almost forgetting what it’s like to be alone.”

  Camilla fed Conrad the rest of his food.

  Rubbing his head, Liam walked down the hall. Picking up some of the extra slack, including inspecting the grounds, had exhausted him. It was weird to have a night when he didn’t join his father out on the back porch for a talk and maybe even a drink.

  I should see him, Liam thought. But night had fallen hours ago. His dad was probably still in no shape to see anyone.

  A set of rapid footsteps interrupted his train of thought. Camilla rushed from the hall intersection, clutching a bundle of rolled-up clothes. She was dressed in a long T-shirt that reached down to her thighs. Once she reached the door to his dad’s bedroom, she opened it up and slipped inside without missing a beat.

  Liam scratched his head. As far as he could remember, he never had seen Camilla go in and out of his father’s bedroom late at night, and certainly not dressed so skimpily.

  Should I really be that shocked? Liam turned around. Camilla and his dad had been involved in the past. Liam never had paid much attention to whether the two had gotten back together, but if it did happen, then so be it.

  I can only wonder what those two are up to, he thought. A shiver ran down his spine. On second thought….

  Chapter Eleven

  Tom held out his hands close to the living room’s crackling fireplace. “Central heating, eat your heart out,” he said as he soaked up the flames’ warmth. Beside him, Sarah laughed. “This might sound corny, but it actually feels better knowing I cut all this wood in the first place. If my dad were here, he’d say I’d have gone nuts.”

  Sarah wrapped an arm around Tom’s. “He probably would have been shocked to hear you’re a lumberjack now.”

  Tom shook his head. “You have no idea. He’d have never understood all this, living on a farm, cutting your own wood just for heat.” He looked over his shoulder. Carla was playing with little Conrad on the couch, just beyond the shadow of the Christmas tree. Tom’s smile faded. “It’s still hard not to think of him. Christmas and Thanksgiving always brought us together until he passed. The family just drifted apart after that.”

  Sarah gripped him a little tighter. “That last Christmas wasn’t so bad. We had each other.”

  “Yeah, and then about six months later, the whole world turned into something out of a Mad Max movie. Didn’t see that coming,” Tom replied.

  Just then, the sound of jiggling bells cut through the air. Carla turned to her baby. “Hey. You hear that? I think Santa’s coming! Here he comes! Here he comes!”

  Indeed, a “fat” bearded man walked – or rather hobbled – through the hall doorway into the living room. He wore a big green robe with a pillow obviously padding out his abdomen, with a belt of round bells draped over his shoulder. Camilla followed beside him, followed by Liam, who was wearing an oversized floppy green hat.

  “Merry Christmas!” Conrad bellowed in a deep baritone voice.

  Sarah laughed. “Oh my God!”

  Tom chuckled hard. Speaking proved to be a real challenge. “Hey, I thought Santa wore red.”

  Camilla patted “Santa” on the left shoulder. “We had to make do. We didn’t have a red robe.”

  “Actually, in Great Britain, Santa does wear green. He’s called Father Christmas over there,” Conrad answered in his Santa voice.

  Sarah then approached Liam. “So, what are you supposed to be?” she asked him.

  “He’s my elf!” Conrad replied loudly. Liam just smiled awkwardly and shrugged.

  Carla held up little Conrad. “Look at the silly elf. Look at the silly elf!” Carla chirped. The baby just looked at Liam with a puzzled expression.

  “Hey little feller,” Conrad said, “You’ve been a good little boy this year?”

  Carla raised little Conrad to just in front of her face, and then spoke in a high-pitched baby voice, “I haven’t peed once on my parents today!”

  “That’s good to hear. Remember, Santa’s always watching you,” Conrad said.

  “Would you like to hold me, Santa?” Carla asked, still in baby voice.

  “Sure, but let Mrs. Claus help me to the couch. Santa’s not as young as he used to be,” Conrad said.

  Camilla held on to Conrad’s left arm and then gently braced him as the rancher sat on the couch. Camilla sat down beside him. “Okay,” Conrad said, “Bring him here.”

  Carla handed little Conrad over to him. Conrad took the child.

  As Conrad played with his young namesake, Liam sat down next to Tom and Sarah on the floor. “Good job on the tree,” Liam said.

  “Thanks.” Tom looked over Liam’s shoulder at Conrad. “Hey, I was just wondering. Do you think your dad’s okay?”

  “What do you mean?” Liam asked.

  “I don’t know. He’s never looked the same since he got sick a few weeks ago. He just seems a little…weaker to me. And Camilla’s always with him.”

  “I agree.” Sarah turned her gaze to her former husband. “Don’t you think something’s up?”

  Liam studied his father carefully. The pair had a point. His father moved much more slowly since he had taken ill, plus he rarely used his right hand. In fact, Liam never could recall his dad using both of his hands for anything since then. Also, Camilla accompanied his father around just about everywhere he went. Liam thought the closeness of the pair meant they had become more emotionally attached. But now that Liam thought about it, Camilla almost appeared to be nursing his father along.

  “I hope he didn’t pick up something horrible and he’s just hiding it from us.” Sarah sucked in a bitter breath. “It wouldn’t shock me if your father is once again taking it all on his shoulders without telling us.”

  As
much as Liam wanted to deny it, he admitted silently that his mother could be right. But what could his dad be hiding?

  Conrad hobbled back to his bedroom. “Oh, you were a delight,” Camilla said as she followed him.

  “Think so, huh?” Conrad asked as he opened the door of his bedroom.

  The pair filed into the room. Conrad then let out an aching moan. “Damn.” He plopped down hard on the bed.

  Camilla undid Conrad’s “Santa” robe and pulled it off him. “Tell me it wasn’t that bad.”

  Conrad clutched his right arm. “I was doing okay at first, but the little guy’s already getting big. He leaned against it, too much probably.” He winced. “It is getting better. I swear to God. But it’s taking its sweet time doing it.”

  Camilla brought Conrad his sling. He despised wearing it, but he needed to rest his arm. Reluctantly, he slipped his right arm inside.

  Camilla sat down next to him. “It was nice, having everyone together. Seems like more and more we’re all just spread out.”

  Conrad blew out a slow breath. “These are the good times.” He looked to his window. “Once Christmas is over with, we’re going to be back to thinking about what’s going on out there.”

  “We haven’t heard anything new about that army,” Camilla said, “Maybe they’re not going to make it here after all.”

  “Even if it is months or maybe a year or two, we can’t take that chance,” Conrad said. “You got to figure they’re building up resources, getting stronger, extending their reach. We have to deal with this.” He released his arm from the sling. “I just need a little more time. I’ll be able to do what needs to be done.”

  “I hope so,” Camilla said.

  Reg tried slipping the ornament back on the Christmas tree, but the string once again slipped off the slender branch. Jeff, who was passing by but stopped near his friend, chuckled. “Forget it. It’s amazing we haven’t tossed this tree yet. Christmas has been over for six days.”