Waning Moon

by PJ Sharon

  Chapter 5

  I had the good sense to be afraid for the first time since I had found this stranger lying nearly unconscious in a deep hole. What had I been thinking? As usual, my instinct to help without thought of the consequences was about to cause trouble. I backed toward the vine that led to escape. A cold sweat broke out on my neck. “What do you mean?”

  He took a step toward me. I stumbled as my back hit the dirt wall. His hand clamped over my mouth and I froze. He stopped only inches away and his voice dropped low. “I think we’ve got company.” He put a finger to his lips and pointed upward. My pulse jumped when I caught the scent and a low rumble sounded above us. I kept still as I recognized the snuffle of a bear. He released his hand from my mouth and I sucked in a breath. Then he edged his way closer and pressed himself against the dirt wall beside me.

  We remained silent, shoulder to shoulder, waiting for the heavy paws to retreat along the pine covered forest floor. After a long minute, I let out a slow breath. “That was close.”

  “It was just a black bear. I don’t think he would have hurt us, but why risk it, right?” He moved away from me and the air instantly felt colder.

  “We’d better get out of here before something larger or meaner comes this way,” I said, noticing his eyes for the first time. I couldn’t see the color in the deep shadows, but they carried an intensity that left me wondering what secrets lay behind them.

  He nodded and I turned to climb up the vine, aware that I was turning my back on a stranger. The hairs on the nape of my neck rose as I felt his eyes follow me upward. When I reached the top, I turned to watch his ascent. He grunted as he climbed, his progress slowed by the weakness in his left shoulder. I helped him over the edge, and he crawled to his feet.

  “Well, that was fun.” He grimaced and looked back into the hole. “Who the hell would set a trap like that way out here in the woods?” He rubbed his shoulder.

  “That would be us,” I said, shrugging innocently. I suspected the endorphin rush was wearing off and that he would be very sore come morning. The sunlight had faded and the moon was still too low to add any brightness to the deep purple sky. I shivered in my cotton shirt and short pants, not dressed for sundown. He wasn’t dressed any better and he had no apparent supplies. I couldn’t leave him out here over night.

  “I live a little less than a mile from here,” I said. Why don’t you come back to my house and stay for the night? I can take care of that cut on your forehead and get you something to eat. We have a place you can sleep. At least you’ll be warm and safe.”

  He eyed me carefully. “Why would you do that? You don’t even know me. I could be some psycho killer or something.”

  I looked him over. He was rail thin; his shoulders slumped with fatigue and hunger. Like so many others who’d lost everything, he had the telltale signs of a survivor. Since the aftermath of the viral plague that had wiped out three quarters of the population in the last decade, lone wanderers like him were all too common.

  I picked up the torn remnants of the bag Maggie had given me and turned toward the path home. “I wouldn’t have invited you if I thought you were dangerous. Now, come on before that bear finishes the cheese and yogurt he stole and comes back with his whole family.” I took a few steps and turned. He was standing still, observing me as if undecided. “Well, are you coming or are you going to stay here and freeze to death?” I didn’t wait for him to answer. I could find the way home even in the dark, but chilled to the bone, I knew better than to press my luck out here in the woods at night.

  He fell in behind me, and I smiled, satisfied far more than I should have been. My smile disappeared when I thought about Sam and how he would be less than thrilled about my invitation. Stealthy feet negotiated the trail behind me. “So, you got a name?”

  “Lily. How ‘bout you?” I asked as he came up beside me in the dark.

  He hesitated and then said, “Name’s Will.”

  We walked quietly for a while, both listening for signs of life in the still, cold night. The moon had risen and light glowed over the forest floor through the trees. An owl sounded in the distance. “Where are you from, Will?” I asked, breaking the long silence.

  “I’m from the Midwest.”

  “You’re a long way from home. What are you doing in Stanton?”

  He cleared his throat and paused before answering. “I’m looking for my father.”

  I got the distinct impression that he didn’t want to talk about it, and being a private person myself, I understood. Having people know your business was a sure way to give them an advantage over you. I let the topic go.

  “Have you been traveling long by yourself?”

  “Long enough,” he said.

  I couldn’t help but push for one more bit of information. “Where’s the rest of your family?”

  He came to a halt and grabbed my arm, spinning me to face him, his eyes bright and blazing in the white moonlight. “What’s with the interrogation?”

  “I was just trying to find out who it is that I’m taking home with me. I figured it would be easier for you to tell me than to have to answer to my uncle when we get there.” I glared at his hand on my arm and pulled away. The air between us frosted in puffs of fog from our combined breath.

  He looked at me hard and then seemed to come to some decision. “My family is dead, killed in a tornado that destroyed our house and everything in it. I wasn’t home at the time.” He turned away, his last words carrying the heavy weight of guilt.

  I stifled my urge to ask more questions. We continued on the trail side by side in silence. “It isn’t much further,” I said. I rubbed my arms and blew a hot breath into my freezing hands.

  Within another minute or two I could see dim lights from the house through the trees, a sign that Sam had turned off the security system and was waiting for me. My heart pounded with the effort to keep a brisk pace. Will took long strides, easily matching every two of my shorter steps. He was a good half a foot taller than me, with long legs and a lanky frame that I was sure was due more to malnutrition than genetics. Sam had warned me about wanderers like him who lived a hard life and often stole to survive. He was surprisingly ill-equipped for being out in the world on his own.

  We came out of the woods, and before we made it within thirty yards of the house, Sam yanked open the door and stalked toward us. “Where have you been? I’ve been worried…” He stopped short when he saw I wasn’t alone. “Who’s this? What the hell…?”

  I cut him off. “This is Will. He fell into that stupid pit trap of yours and almost broke his neck.” I decided taking the offense in this case was the best defense.

  He eyed Will warily. “He looks just fine. And what were you doing on our property?”

  Will glanced from me to Sam and back again. “I was trying to find something to eat and a place to sleep for the night.”

  I shivered and glared at Sam. “He’s on his own and searching for his father.” Sam exchanged a long look with Will and I saw his armor fall. “Can we finish this discussion inside?” I asked, my nose and ears ready to fall off in the frigid air.

  Sam’s shoulders sagged. He let out a frosty and frustrated breath. He knew me well enough to know that I would never leave anyone out in the cold. He turned back toward the house and took the lead. “C’mon. Let’s get you inside and warm you two up. You can stay for tonight. I’ve got some clothes that should fit you. Tomorrow, we’ll set you up with a pack and some food enough for a few days, and you can be on your way.”

  “Thank you, Sir. That’s more than I could ask for.”

  Will followed me into the house. Zeph, who was sitting at the kitchen table etching intricate designs into a wooden box looked up, his eyes growing round when he saw Will. “Who the hell are you?”

  “Watch your mouth, young man,” said Sam, frowning at Zeph but obviously ready to ask the same question.

  After a brief introduction, Will slumped into a chair and I started some wat
er to boil. “Stop staring, Zeph, and get him a warm blanket.” Although the house was warmer than outside, I noticed Will shivering. Sam came back in the room and handed me Aunt Beth’s old sweater. I slipped it on, the cashmere warm against my cool skin. The men sat facing each other without speaking while I rummaged in my medicine chest for calendula salve, disinfectant, and a clean bandage.

  When Zeph returned with a blanket, he and Will continued to stare at one another, each studying something about the other and apparently coming to some unspoken conclusion. Sam finally broke the silence. “Why don’t you head up to bed, Zeph. You can talk with Will over breakfast.” Zeph gave a low grumble, collected his carving tools, and disappeared down the hall.

  The cut on Will’s forehead was oozing but crusted over with dried blood. As I cleaned it and applied the salve, Sam questioned Will. “The Midwest, huh? That covers a lot of territory. Do you want to be more specific?”

  I glanced down at Will who was squirming in the chair, either to get away from my probing fingers or to avoid Sam’s probing gaze. He finally pushed my hand away. “It’s fine, really. I’m okay.” He looked from me to Sam. “I lived outside of Chicago.”

  Sam leaned forward in his chair, his eyes turning steely. “I’d be interested in hearing about what’s happening in the Capitol these days. Has the President shown her face, or is she still hiding behind that no good Vice President, Malevich, and those bureaucrats she calls her Assembly?” Sam hated the government and all it had turned into. With the terrorist attacks in the twenties that destroyed Washington, DC, and the pandemic and rioting that all but wiped out New York City, Chicago was as stable a place as any to relocate the Capitol. What was left of our country had been through three presidential appointments and two assassinations. President Kathleen Callahan wasn’t taking any chances. She hadn’t been seen publicly in almost two years and some people, my uncle included, wondered if she was even still alive.

  Will pulled the blanket tighter around his shoulders. “I haven’t been there for a while.”

  “How long is a while?” Sam wouldn’t let up. I sympathized with Will, having been on the other end of a few of Sam’s interrogations, a left over from his military days, but I was curious to find out more about Will myself.

  “I left when I was fifteen.” His sandy hair fell over his eyes. “My mom and my sister were dead, the house…pretty much the whole town was gone, and I couldn’t reach my dad…” his voice lowered. “That was two years ago. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead, but I’ve been looking for him ever since.” He paused and looked Sam in the eye.

  I turned my back, not wanting him to see the sorrow on my face and think it was pity. I could feel the pride that rolled off of him like an ocean. The last thing he wanted was anyone’s pity. “I’ll fix you some soup and then you can wash up before bed if you want. There’s a hot shower upstairs.”

  I shot a firm look at Sam, hoping he would get the message that he’d pushed enough for tonight. I also wanted him to allow Will to sleep in my cousin’s room. Though untrusting by nature, Sam wasn’t one to turn away anyone in need. He’d taken in Beth and her infant son Jackson after her husband had died of the virus. They married a year later and he had adopted Jackson, raising him as his own. He was particular about Jackson’s room, leaving it basically untouched since he’d died of cancer when he was ten—the walls still covered with baseball memorabilia and pictures of air ships and space suits that Sam had given him.

  Sam gave me a silent nod, reading me almost as well as I could read him. I stuck a frozen container of cabbage soup with sausage into the infrared and hit start.

  Unable to curb his persistent suspicion, Sam asked one more question. “So, Will, what made you come all the way out here looking for your father?”

  Will eyed Sam warily. “I was down along the coast and heard he might be in Albany working at the trading post. I was just passing through Stanton on my way to the city. I thought I’d find a short cut through the woods when I fell into your trap.”

  I set the soup in front of him and laid out several slices of bread with butter. Without another word, Will stuffed the bread in his mouth, slurped the soup down greedily, and grabbed for the glass of warm milk I put in front of him. He’d chugged half the glass before he came up for air, his face turning red. “Sorry. It’s been a while since I had a good meal.”

  I smiled back, “When you’re done, I’ll show you to your room.”

  When Will finally sat back and wiped his mouth on his sleeve, his hunger satisfied, Sam cleared his throat and gave him a hard look. “I hope you’ll respect the fact that you are a guest in our home.” He leaned in with the way he had of looking menacing. “Don’t do anything to breach our trust. Got it?”

  Will stood and let the blanket fall to the chair. “No, Sir. I won’t.” And then he did something I’d rarely seen anyone do. Sam’s eyes widened when Will extended his hand. People hardly touched one another since the spread of the plagues, even after the virus had been eradicated. The long-forgotten gesture had my uncle at a loss. He reached out and shook Will’s hand. “Did your father teach you that?”

  “Yes, Sir. He taught me a lot, but mostly, I learned that a man was only as good as his word.”

  They released each other from what looked like a firm grip. “Your father sounds like a good man. I hope you find him.”

  Will’s face shadowed with a determined expression. “I won’t stop looking until I do.” Sam gave a curt nod of understanding.

  “Follow me,” I said. Will looked ready to drop from exhaustion and once he was asleep, I would use healing energy on him and he’d be in much better shape by morning.

  Will turned at the bottom of the stairs. “Thank you for letting me into your home, Sir.”

  “You’re welcome, son.” He caught himself a second too late and we all heard the correction in his voice. To gloss over the uncomfortable moment, he asked, “What’s your father’s name, Will? Maybe I’ve heard of him.”

  Will hesitated. “Brian Callahan.”

  Sam’s jaw dropped. “Not the Brian Callahan related to President Callahan? Didn’t she have a brother who tried to have her removed from office?”

  “Yes, Sir. My father is that Brian Callahan. President Callahan is my aunt.”