by Maira Dawn
He only hoped he could.
Twenty-One
A Different Man
Calvin whistled as he walked back to the car from his bathroom break at the side of the road. He knew they were getting close. They had to be.
There were only three towns in this area, and they already visited two. The first one was deserted except for a few Sick ready to croak. So, they had helped them along to the great beyond and used them for target practice.
The next town had a few surviving healthy. The townsfolk had barricaded the village as if that would stop Calvin and his little gang. It only made the already angry Calvin angrier.
He, Pete, and Tony chased down those healthy and had a good, old time. One Calvin would remember for an age. They'd even left a few alive, in case he and his men wanted to revisit.
Calvin put a hand to his aching head, too much drinking last night had him suffering today. He walked over to the car, no running for him today.
His hand tightened on the car handle when he saw it. A green minivan identical to the make and model of one he used to own. Before.
Calvin's thoughts shot straight back to the Before. He stood beside his wife as they deliberated the car's merits. His beautiful Michelle, his sun, and moon. If she said a minivan was what they needed for their growing family, then a minivan was what they would get.
Ten years and four boys later, the girl Michelle dreamed of finally arrived. That lovely little girl so full of light and energy was the first to waste away from this horrifying disease. None of his loved ones went easily, each turned into their own kind of pitiable monster.
After watching all her children pass, Michelle's grief turned inward. She became a shell of a person even before her first cough. She'd looked at Calvin, her tear-filled eyes wide, and said she was sorry. From that moment to the moment she closed her eyes for the last time, she cried. To this day, Calvin didn't know what she apologized for.
Calvin watched over every one of them, taking in any frightened, pain-filled look and each cry of confusion and despair. He tended to their every need. Because that is what good fathers did. They protected and cared for their families. Only, he reminded himself daily, he hadn't. It didn't matter to him that he couldn't. He failed, and they died.
When it was all over, Calvin was a different man. A maddened, hate-filled man, something his loving wife would never have recognized. The sight would have taken her to her grave if she hadn't already been there.
Every man still holding a wife or child became his enemy. As he sought peace from his pain, Calvin separated himself from the more polite society he was used to and found the unrestrained. People that would not only let him be the new man he was but took joy in his exploration. That was where he met Pete and Tony.
Calvin shook his head, tucking those memories of his family as far back into his brain as possible. Thoughts of Michelle could ruin his plans, and he didn't want them ruined. They were about an hour out of Colton. He held high hopes for it.
Frankie trudged to the bar as the black Lexus pulled up alongside him. Nowadays, he usually went to the tree line to watch the rare car pass by, trying to decide if its passengers were trouble or not, but today he had a powerful thirst. Frankie made a habit of stocking up the house with booze from one of the many nearby bars. But he failed to notice his dwindling supply and run totally out. And that would not do.
His gut twitched a little as he turned and looked at the car and the three men inside. Two of the men were definitely bruisers. Though he couldn't see it, Frankie would bet a bottle of rum at least one of them held a gun on him. The driver looked like a car salesman. Frankie would have dismissed him on sight, except for the hard glint in his eyes.
Frankie reckoned he was in this now and decided to play the good, ole boy. "Hey fellas, how can I help ya?"
The driver spoke, identifying himself as the brains of the group. "We've been looking for some friends of ours, with all the chaos we've lost touch. Could you help us out?"
Oh yeah, sure, your friends. Frankie barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. "I'll sure help ya in whatever way I can."
"I'm looking for a woman that drives a sky-blue Jeep and has a kid with her, and two men in a big black Ford. Have you seen them around here?"
Frankie couldn't have been more surprised to hear those words come out of the man's mouth. Frankie's face gave him away, first with the startle then a hard scowl. He had a decision to make. He sized the men up again. These boys may be just what he needed to make things square with the Coles. "What do ya want them for?"
"We need to teach them a lesson," Calvin said a smirk on his face.
Frankie nodded.
The man in the backseat growled out, "The boy is mine."
"No," Frankie said, "the boy is mine. Literally."
Tony scowled. "He's fallen into some bad company."
"Yeah," Frankie agreed, "he has."
Calvin eyed the two. "Tony there is a little riled up. The boy cut him, and he isn't likely to walk right again."
"He did?" Frankie felt a bit of pride for the boy. He hadn't known the little pansy had it in him.
"Look," said Frankie leaning down on the car. "I pretty much know where they are, and I'm more than willing to help you. I want them erased from this earth, but the boy -- he is mine. They stole him from me, and when this is over, I want him alive and unharmed." He nervously glanced back at the hard-as-steel Tony when he growled. "Relatively. I guess you deserve to get a coupla licks in but no permanent damage."
Tony seemed somewhat appeased by Frankie's permission. And if a few shots at Jesse satisfied Tony, it was better than what the man initially intended. Besides, Jesse gave the man a life-long hurt, so he was owed a couple of licks. And if there was one thing his mama always said, it was that a boy needed a good beating now and then. Still, Frankie felt a bit queasy at the idea.
Calvin looked at Tony in the rearview mirror. Tony didn't reply, but he didn't object either. "Pete, squeeze in the back. We will let our new friend here ride shotgun."
Frankie slid into the front passenger's seat; sure his luck would change now. "Just one thing, I have a powerful thirst, and there's a bar just up the road a piece."
"Say no more, new friend!" Calvin said, "We are never opposed to a good drink, or two, or more. And we need to celebrate our new-found acquaintance. To the bar, it is!"
Frankie twisted down in his seat, getting comfortable. Yep, things were going his way now.
Twenty-Two
Salvation
It was one thing to resolve something in their hearts when away from the problem and another to open their problem when their heart was standing right in front of them. Dylan and Skye thought of a million ways to start this relationship, but every time lost the nerve to do so.
So, they stayed away from each other most of the day.
Dylan dragged himself back to the cabin that evening still undecided on what course to take. Skye made herself busy as soon as she heard Dylan's footsteps scuff across the wood porch. A quick glance at each other and an unspoken truce took place. No one said a word about the fight.
Skye gave Dylan the space she assumed he wanted and stayed on the other side of the room. But the one-room house was small, so they were still within sight, if not actual arm's length of one another at all times.
As the evening wore on, Dylan made his way to Skye's side of the room. He dropped down on the couch beside her and waited. When Skye didn't object to his presence, and Dylan settled in.
He glanced at Skye. She seemed happy. Here he sat picking at his nails, and she was lighting up the room with her smile.
It was clear Dylan was trying something new in their relationship. He was always attentive to her, but tonight he upped his game. After Skye unknowingly gave a small, helpless gesture struggling with a jar in the kitchen, he rushed to her side to help.
After opening the jar, Dylan and Skye returned to the couch. When he sat, he hauled in a huge breath and laid his arm acro
ss Skye's shoulders.
She stilled. Dylan waited only a moment for any reluctance on her part. When he was sure she was breathing again, he lowered his hand down Skye's back to her waist and pulled her closer to him.
Jesse's eye's widened, and so did his mouth. He was ready to burst until he got a soft whack and a stern shake of the head from Wade.
Skye's heart thundered at Dylan's touch. So many feelings raced through her, but the only thing she cared about was the fierce protection in Dylan's eyes. She glanced up at him from under her lashes, offering a radiant smile, showing Dylan her joy at the affection he showed.
Finally. The thought surprised Skye. It had been her who held back the relationship. She hadn't realized how much she yearned for this.
Skye snuggled a little closer to Dylan as talk swirled around her. She almost giggled. As was usually the case in a situation like this, everyone continued the conversation as if nothing unusual happened. Except for Jesse, he kept glancing their way, amusement covering his face. Skye caught his eye and gave the boy a wink. Jesse winked back and gave her a thumbs up.
After a while, Skye cleared her fuzzy head and paid attention to Dylan and Wade's conversation. Winter planning was the topic at hand. In this new reality, meals took intense preparation. A stocked pantry could take months to plan and execute.
The houses around them had been emptied out. In addition, some supplies were always difficult to find on the mountain. Fresh and frozen food was gone. Surrounding gardens had become thin, other than a late crop of root vegetables and the occasional overlooked squash.
Winter was on its way. They needed to go further out for the remaining supplies before it was too late. If they didn’t, they could starve. Personal feelings were wonderful, so was eating. The Cole household had been eating well. They wanted to keep it that way.
Skye looked from Dylan to Wade. "You don't think we're set for the winter? After all that canned food we found and the stuff we canned ourselves?" She waved toward the extra storage space the men built to hold it all.
"We have a lot of cans, no doubt about that," Wade said, "and with Dylan's hunting, we should be good. But it needs to last through the spring. Til we get a new garden going. I think we need to make a run to a big store or distribution center for some other things before winter comes."
Dylan nodded. "I'll ask around and see what'll be the best one to try. Someone might know somethin."
'I'll practice canning with the vegetables you brought in today,” Skye said. “I appreciate the training, but I want to try it by myself, so I'll be ready for next year."
"I wanna forage with Dylan tomorrow," Jesse said not wanting to be left out of the action. Skye smiled at Jesse. Stalking anything, beast or vegetable, in the forest with Dylan was fast becoming one of Jesse’s favorite things to do.
"Remember," Wade repeated the same instruction he gave with every fruit and vegetable they found, "when you’re chopping up the vegetables, keep the seeds." One of the problems they faced was that most seeds didn't reproduce properly anymore, so Wade hoped some of what they found were heirloom seeds.
Agriculture was new to Skye, and she had been unaware there was a difference between any kinds of seeds. But now she had been carefully educated that it was heirloom seeds most likely to give a dependable crop.
"Save the seeds, save the seeds," Jesse chanted as if it were a song. The adults laughed at his antics.
Dylan's deep laughter drew Skye's attention. Her gaze moved from Jesse to the man beside her. Their eyes met, Dylan's bold gaze holding hers until she blushed and looked away. His fingers tightened at her side.
Dylan changed the topic of conversation. "While I was out, I looked up the neighbors. No one in this area, has been sick or died in the last week or so. Maybe this thing is dying down a bit."
"That would be wonderful!" Skye said.
Casualties well over the seventy percent predicted by Disease Control had decimated the mountain. And it was better off than the towns. Those on the mountain had done everything they could to protect themselves from those infected. It led to some ingenious arrangements for helping others.
Skye had never seen such generous people. They shared help and supplies, often letting each other know where a needed item could be located.
When Skye mentioned this must be what it was like in the early days of the settlers, Dylan assured her it was always this way on their mountain.
When it seemed the essential issues were discussed, Skye quietly asked Dylan if they could speak on the front porch. Dylan nodded and grabbed a blanket. Once they were seated on the porch, he carefully wrapped it around Skye to keep the chill air off her.
Skye's stomach fluttered as she gazed up at Dylan and was pulled into the dark-blue depths of his eyes. She was content with that, was all she could endure really. Her hearing narrowed to the two of them, every thump of her heart, every breath he took.
Jesse's voice floated through the log walls. "What are they doing out there?"
Skye and Dylan laughed, breaking their gaze.
"So," Skye said with a shy smile as she traced a nameless pattern on her jeans, "I guess we've moved past friends."
"I believe we have," Dylan said with a serious tone.
Skye gave a nervous giggle.
He continued, "It's what you want, Skye, right? I can handle it if it's not. I reckon I'd rather have the part of you I can than nothin at all."
Skye nodded. "It’s what I want."
Her green eyes shone with happy, unshed tears. "But we need to talk. There are things in my past you need to know. Things making this harder for me than it should be."
Some movement or sound that Dylan made, Skye wrongly interpreted as irritation. Quickly, she said, "This isn't about you." Skye winced.
Her heart dropped, worried Dylan would mistake her meaning. And she was right. Dylan tensed and bolted to his feet, but Skye was faster.
Skye grabbed his bicep with both hands and pulled, stopping him. Dylan watched her hands slide slowly down his arm, past his elbow, his forearm and wrist to take his hand in her two small ones. She tugged his hand to her stomach and held it there, giving him no choice but to return to his seat beside her.
"No, listen! I know you think it is, but it's not. You are affected by my problems. But this problem started a long time ago. You- you aren't my problem. You are my salvation."
Twenty-Three
Family
Skye shivered. It had nothing to do with the chill, night air, and everything to do with her strong emotions. Dylan pulled the plaid blanket up higher on her neck.
Skye grabbed his hand back, needing an anchor of reassurance. Worried what she needed to say would make him want to leave her again. She tightened her grasp, and though it made no difference to his strong hand, her own knuckles whitened. Uncertain of his reaction, her anxiety got the best of her. She quietly cleared her throat.
Seeing her distress, Dylan turned toward her, laying his other hand on top of hers.
Skye looked up at him, gave a sharp chuckle, and rolled her eyes at her inability to start her story. She took a moment to lay her forehead against Dylan's arm, and he patiently waited until she was ready. Finally, she blew out a long breath and began to speak.
"I was married before, did I tell you that?"
Dylan was calm. "Okay."
Skye looked down at the old wooden floor of the porch. "It was right out of high school, literally, just two weeks after we graduated. We were young and crazy. We were going to be in the same college, and thought we would be together forever. Why wait? Why not start now?" Skye's lips turned down. "Obviously, forever didn't happen."
Dylan didn't make much more than a grunt before he said, "I'm glad, or I wouldn't be sittin here with you right now."
Her eyes flew to his, and she smiled. Skye raised a hand and stroked his stubbled face with her thumb before lowering her hand to his again.
"Me too. Because I'm with you, and also because I'm sure I would be dead by
now. My ex wasn't all that great of a protector." Skye uttered a small, bitter laugh before she went on. "He wasn't involved in the college... incident, but of course it affected him too." Skye hated bringing this up, but it was the beginning of everything. "The one and only stipulation my family allowed the college was that I had to leave it, couldn't even step foot on the campus. And since we were married..."
"He had to leave too."
"Yes, and he had a ton of friends at that college, played ball. He was very involved, and he bitterly resented leaving. I told him to stay, and I meant it. I was the one who had made a mess of everything. But he didn't, he followed me to the next college. After we left, nothing was the same for him, which he rightly blamed on me."
Dylan snorted derisively, but Skye didn't agree. "It was my fault, Dylan, without a doubt. About that at least, he was right."
Dylan squeezed Skye's hand, letting her know he would've stood beside her, been her rock.
Skye nodded and kissed his hand before continuing on. "So there he was blaming me for ruining his life. And I felt guilty about everything, as I should have. From her death to seeing my friend's go to jail while I got out of everything. Our parents wanted to ignore it ever happened and wouldn't let me talk about it. I was a mess. He was a mess. It was just all…”
"Yeah, I see that."
"I swore off alcohol and drugs, but now he was always partying. He was seldom home. I rarely left it. He got sick of me, started bringing girlfriends back. And I- I didn't even really care.”
Skye shifted in her seat. "One day, he came home high, and it turned into this big fight, and he hit me. Not that bad, but that is how low I was. When he hit me, I just let him. Then I walked into the bedroom, pulled the covers over my head, and went to sleep. After that, I started to provoke him, hoping he'd hit me because I hadn't suffered for what I'd done. It wasn't horrible, I wasn't on the floor bleeding, but he and I knew it was wrong, that something vital was broken with us."