“All clear,” Richard says, cutting the engine and unmounting. “No pursuers.”
“Good,” I say. “We’ve had a long enough day as it is.”
A rare smile splits his face which I find myself returning. Long barely scratches the surface. I’m exhausted, operating on next to no sleep over the past forty hours or so. But a warm cot isn’t far away, and the spoils of our operation are more than worth the fatigue.
Rob is the first to reach us, breaking free from the gathering crowd and throwing himself into his mother’s arms as if he were years younger. When he straightens, I’m surprised to see he stands taller than she does. When did that happen?
“Thank you,” he says, sobbing into Felix’s chest. “Thank you.” He repeats himself again and again, so overcome with emotion he’s at a loss for words.
“You don’t ever have to thank me, Robbie,” Felix says. “You’re family. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for you.”
Theirs isn’t the only teary reunion. Richard’s daughters are engulfed in his arms moments after he unmounts. Leon’s mom trembles as he hugs her, his arms seemingly the only thing holding her together. When I hug my own mother I feel a great, shuddering breath leave her body, as if she can only breathe freely now that we’ve returned. Before I can think anything of it, she’s moved on to my sister and Grace takes her place in my arms. Behind them, my father hugs Lauren as he would his own daughter. We’ve been gone less than a day, yet it seems so much longer than that.
Eyes eventually study the caravan we’ve arrived in and the family who stands beside it. The Sawyer family observe us cautiously, wary to move any closer. Once again, it’s Rob who’s first to greet them, breaking free from Felix and making a beeline for Sara, Scarlett’s eldest daughter who moves forward at the sight of him.
“I told you,” he says, voice still shaky as they cling to one another. “Do you believe me know?” I have no idea what he told her or if she believes him, but watching them, seeing the care and concern they hold for one another makes me believe that bringing them here was the right decision. Inspired by the display, I begin to make the introductions.
“For those of you who don’t know her, this is Felix’s Aunt Christina,” I say. “It’s her home we’ve been living in these past months.” I make it a point to emphasize that last bit. Christina deserves nothing less than the respect she’s owed. Predictably, it’s my mother who greets her first.
“It’s so good to see you again,” my mother says, embracing her in a brief hug. “When I heard what happened...” she pauses, her words falling off. “Anyway. Thank God you’re such a strong woman. Welcome home.”
“Thank you, Marie,” she says. “It’s good to be back.” She turns and beckons the Sawyer’s forward. “These are friends of mine. They each made these past months infinitely more bearable.”
There’s awkwardness as the two sides meet, everyone assessing, analyzing, trying to get the measure of one another. Not that I expected anything different. Anyone who’s managed to survive this long knows the importance of remaining cautious around new people. And considering the encounters we’ve dealt with, it’s only natural for one to grow guarded. It’ll take time. But seeing the warm smile on my mother’s face as she shakes hands with Scarlett and Ruby, Christina by her side, introducing herself to my Aunt Virginia, I have faith things will work themselves out.
“We have a fire going inside,” my mother says. “Come. It’s freezing out here.”
My mother ushers Christina and the Sawyers into the house, Aunt Virginia and Richard’s daughters following as well. The rest stay behind, eager to take a closer look at the supplies we’ve brought.
“Holy shit,” Vince says, realizing just how much cargo we’re hauling. Holy shit about sums it up. When we set out this morning, all that mattered to me was getting Christina out safely and returning her home. It never crossed my mind we would be returning with so much more. Working vehicles. Medical supplies. Crates of food. And that’s just the tip of things. Richard and Leon hop into the bed and unload one of the storage crates.
“Bastards were sitting on a gold mine,” Leon says, opening the latch and revealing the contents inside. Several people curse, making me smile. I had the same reaction. My father withdraws one of the stacked boxes which fill the container and opens it. He clicks on a small flashlight to read the cover: Federal, 5.56x45MM.
“How many rounds is this?” Uncle Will says.
“Didn’t get the chance to run inventory yet,” Richard says. “This wasn’t the only crate they had.” He gestures to the four remaining crates, each stacked full of ammo.
“Seriously?” Vince asks. “What other calibers?”
“You name it,” Richard replies. “7.62, 9mm, .45 ACP, .22 LR, 12 gauge shotgun shells. The place was like a damn sporting goods store.”
“How the hell did they get so much ammo?” my dad asks, more to himself than to us.
“Traded apparently,” Felix says. “Gave most their livestock in return for the ammo, a working truck, and one hundred gallons of gasoline.”
Uncle WIll curses. “Must have been a hell of a lot of livestock.” He looks over to the horse trailers attached behind both trucks. “But I can see they didn’t trade everything.” People come forward, peering inside for a closer look at the stirring animals. Four horses occupy one trailer, six pigs in the other.
“Anyone else have a sudden craving for pork chops?” Mr. T asks, staring at the pigs with hungry eyes.
Leon claps his dad on the shoulder with a laugh. “Don’t worry, Pop. There are two males and four females. With any luck, we’ll have plenty of little pork chops running around before long.”
The wind kicks up a notch, reaching through the layers I wear. “As nice as it is to admire all this, these trucks aren’t going to unload themselves,” I say. I drop down the tailgate of the second truck and remove a crate of food. “Shall we?”
An hour later I am setting down a final duffle bag with an audible grunt. Inside is a mixture of rifles and shotguns taken from the ranch. We made it a point to bring back every firearm and round of ammunition we could find. Whether it was hauling crates of ammo up from the cellar, or prying a rifle from the frozen fingers of its fallen owner, we left no stone unturned in our search. Some might find scavenging as we did macabre, disrespectful, but I feel no qualms about it. We’ll make better use of them than the dead.
The living room is more crowded than ever, the addition of Christina, Rob, and the Sawyer’s stretching it’s capacity to its limit. They were offered private rooms, but like us, they chose warmth over privacy. That in itself speaks volumes: it’s no easy thing these days to trust someone to watch over you while you sleep. It’s as good a sign I could have hoped for this first night.
Less than 24 hours have passed since I was violently ripped from my sleep and forced to leave the cot I now sink into. It seems longer, my mind and body completely spent from all that’s happened. I don’t even have the energy to wish Lauren good night. My eyes close the moment my head makes contact with the pillow. Seconds later, or so it seems, my thoughts vanish entirely, my mind drifting away into a dreamless sleep.
For weeks I dreaded the approaching winter. I feared the ice and cold. I feared scarce game and low provisions. I feared I was doomed to watch my family freeze and starve—that despite all our work and sacrifices, it wouldn’t be enough to survive the unforgiving season. But that was before Rob showed up in the dead of night, setting off a series of events that changed everything. It’s surreal how quickly our fortunes have turned.
I stare at a full pantry, stocked to capacity with the food we brought from the Sawyer’s ranch. If I were to open the cupboards in the kitchen behind me, I would see a similar sight. Canned goods, packages of pasta, huge sacks of rice and beans. Wicked as Pete Sawyer was, the man knew the importance of preparing for the worst. Have to at least give him that. If we're careful, we should have enough food to see us through to spring. That alone is a huge relief.
I won’t soon forget the desperation I felt over the summer. The hunger pangs. The headaches. The mental toll you face when you’re starving and don’t have a clue of when or where your next meal is coming from. They’re the kind of things that stick with you.
The heat at my back is another new feature of the room. A small, wood burning stove sits against the opposite wall, filling the room with warmth. A good idea on Richard’s part who foresaw how it could be put to use. All we had to do was remove a window to accommodate the chimney pipe and seal it up with some plywood. Now, the two largest rooms in the house are heated, allowing us to spread out a bit from the overcrowded living room.
Outside I watch as Leon, Emily, and Ruby make their way back from the barn where the horses and pigs are being housed. Better them than me. I’m still sneezing after yesterday. Hay has always wreaked havoc on my allergies. Worth it though to haul what we did from the abandoned farms in the area. Should be enough to feed the horses for a while at least. As for the pigs, Ruby believes one might be pregnant. One can only hope. Just the thought of bacon makes my mouth start to water.
My gaze drifts to Richard and Felix who oversee another round of firearm training, mostly for the benefit of the younger family members. Grace is among the attendees, soaking in every word being said and practicing the motions being taught. Rob is also in attendance, handling the different weapons with ease. None of this is new to him. I have the feeling his true reason for being out there has less to do with practice and more with the redhead standing beside him. Sara, whose attention is wholly focused on her task, fails to note the sidelong looks that I see. I can’t help but smile. Seems like only yesterday Rob was launching sneak attacks on me with toy swords and nerf guns, his laugh infectious as I would chase him and pin him to the ground. Strange to see the look of puppy love on his face.
The group moves on to target shooting where airsoft guns replace the real ones. It’s not ideal, but with bullets as valuable as they are, it’s the best we can afford. Should the time come when they need to use the real thing, they will at least have some shooting practice under their belts. They take it in turns, one person shooting while the rest observe. I’m impressed as I watch on. There are few who are wild with their aiming, but most are decent shots. Rob, of course, outshines the group, hitting the center of the targets time and time again. He turns to smile at his cousin who is quick to return it. But as Rob turns away I notice the smile falter, his features forming into a solemn mask I’ve seen too often these past few days.
I don’t understand it. I thought having his aunt and cousin back would help heal the void he’s felt since arriving home. To everyone else, it might seem that way. In their company, he’s nothing but smiles and laughter. Upbeat. Confident. But I can look past the pretense and see the role he’s playing. It’s one I’ve been forced to play myself: carrying on for the sake of moral, pretending like all is well even as you’re breaking inside. I know that look, know its burden. I won’t let Felix carry it alone as I did.
As evening gathers, I accompany Felix to check on the animals and lock up the barn for the night. The grounds are still and quiet, empty but for us two. If the cold weren’t deterrent enough, the smell of tonight's supper easily ensures our privacy.
“We haven’t really talked much since we got back,” I start. “You doing alright?”
Felix looks at me strangely, my question catching him unexpected. “Yeah, man. Why wouldn’t I be?”
“I don’t know,” I admit. “Just seems like something’s eating away at you.”
“You’re seeing things,” he says. “What could possibly be eating away at me?”
“Again, I don’t know. Why do you keep answering my questions with another question?” He stares at me for a long moment. Shields up. Defiant. I stare back, unwilling to break the silence. It’s on him to make the next move.
“I gave up on them,” he finally says. It’s as if the words steal the air from his body, from the room. Them. His family. Suddenly it all makes sense.
“You did all you could, Chavo,” I say. “There’s no way you could have known the truth.”
“Yeah, that’s what I keep telling myself. But they’re just platitudes. It doesn’t help. Doesn’t change the fact that they were alive and I assumed them dead—that they were suffering and I wasn’t there to protect them.”
He breaks, crushed beneath the weight guilt he’s tried so hard to bury. I sit beside him, hand gripping his shoulder. No words are spoken. Anything I could possibly say would only ring hollow in his ears. I wait. I share his pain in silence until he’s ready to continue.
“I never thought I would see them again,” he says, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I should be ecstatic right now. I should feel blessed every time I see their faces. But whenever I’m with them it just feels...off. Like something’s missing.”
I can sense where this is heading. If I’m being honest, I had a feeling it might be leading this way since Christina and Rob returned home. Felix gave up on his family once. He won’t do it twice.
“When do we leave?” I ask
He meets my eye, and I know he knows that I’ve guessed his intentions.
“This isn’t like the ranch, Moe,” he says. “You saw what it was like in town. Things could only have gotten worse since then.”
“Your point?”
“My point is that going in there is like walking into the lion’s den,” he says. “One slip up, one wrong move and (he snaps his fingers) it’s over, just like that. I can’t ask you to risk your life for this.”
He doesn’t believe he’ll come back. I can hear it in his voice. And knowing my friend the way I do, I know that won’t stop him from going. After finding his aunt and cousin alive, he won’t give up on the rest of his family so long as there’s the slightest chance they too might be alive out there. If that means walking into the lion’s den, that’s exactly what he’ll do. But damn him if he thinks I won’t be there to make sure he walks out.
“Do you remember what you told Leon and I, the morning after we made it to town?” I ask. I don’t give him time to respond, gripping the back of his neck and bringing his forehead to mine as he once did to me. “You called us your brothers—told us we were worth traveling down the road of life with.” He sniffs loudly, tears leaking out the corners of his eyes. “Nothing’s changed. If this is the road you’re taking, bet your ass I’m not letting you travel it alone.”
He nods, pulling back slightly. “Thank you,” he says.
“You never have to thank me, Chavo,” I say, repeating the words he spoke to Rob. “You’d do the same for me.”
After dinner, I inform the family of our plan to enter town and search for the rest of Felix’s family. In the master bedroom, my friend does the same with his aunt and cousin. It’s best this way. Whatever her reaction, Christina deserves privacy as the full weight of our decision sinks in. I don’t imagine the incredulous faces around the room would do her any favors. They don’t understand. That much they make perfectly clear.
You can’t be serious. Think of the danger you’ll be putting yourself in. They’ve been gone for months; if they haven’t returned after all this time...
There are different variations, but basically, it all comes down to the danger of entering town, and the difficult task of tracking down Felix’s family, assuming, of course, that they are even still alive. It’s nothing I don’t already know. I’m fully aware of the odds and risks involved with what I’ve agreed to.
“I’ve told you all before: there is nothing I wouldn’t do for those I love,” I say, cutting through their protests. “Did you think I was lying?”
“This is bigger than that, Morgan,” my father says. “I love Felix like he was my own, but what you’re talking about is madness. What are you going to do, knock on every door in town and hope they’ll answer?” He shakes his head, angry, frustrated. “It’s madness.”
I hear the fear in his voice as he tries to convince me to stay. I
would say it’s a fear I understand, but in my heart I know that’s not true. I have no sons, no daughters. I know nothing of the exhilaration one feels when holding their child in their arms for the first time. I know nothing of the highs and lows, the innumerable feelings that come with raising a child. All I know is the love of a son, the love of a brother, and somehow I’ve been trapped between the two.
“I understand why you want me to stay, and I love you for that,” I say, turning my attention back to my father. “But if you don’t see why I have to do this, I’m afraid I can’t explain it to you.”
Only he does see it. I can tell as his arguments die in his chest, the truth finally sinking in: there will be no persuading me. My mind is set. I have to look away after a moment, hating the hurt in his eyes. I turn instead to my mother who sits beside him. Unlike my father, she has remained silent, impassive throughout everything I said. She always was the more reserved of the two, more difficult to read. She was also the one more likely to let us test our strengths, to make our own decisions and learn from our mistakes. “It’s your life,” she would tell us. “I can’t tell you how to live it.” Whether or not she agrees with my choice, I cannot tell. But when she meets my eyes and tilts her head to me, I know I at least have her support. In this moment, I couldn’t be more grateful for it.
“When do we leave?” Leon asks. Like with my mother, unspoken looks serve as the communication between Leon and his parents. There is no calling him crazy or begging him to stay. Both Mr. and Mrs. Thomas accept his decision in silence, his father squeezing his shoulder, his mother his hand.
A Cruel and Violent Storm Page 23