CHAPTER 23

On Kate’s Watch

Smiling, Kate had watched her mom and Simon walk upstairs to a stranger’s bedrooms.

Though she would have liked to have walked right along with them. She hadn’t told her mother, but the driving had left her frazzled, achy even.

And now so tired.

But her mom needed rest; her leg was getting better, but lying down would be good.

And Simon…

She would never say it to him, but she was amazed how for a kid—really, just a kid—he could be so strong.

Was her brother changed forever?

Then, Were we all?

Now it was quiet in this house, this place looking so normal, as if the world hadn’t really changed outside.

She went to the living room, and stood by the windows. Her mom had been very clear.

Don’t get too near the windows.

Take a peek, but stay well back.

She looked around. Everything neat, orderly. No one had broken into this house after whatever battles had raged in this town.

Standing there, all alone while her mom, her brother, slept, she hoped that there was nothing out there.

That the Can Heads were all gone.

Just the dark, the cold.

And now so alone, she found it hard to hold on to that idea. That belief that this place was deserted.

She took a deep breath, and then walked back over to a large easy chair, a recliner she could tell from a wooden lever by the side.

Sitting down, she felt dwarfed by the chair.

She pushed down on the lever, and the back of the chair tilted back jerkily while a footrest magically appeared.

Then the thought, Only minutes into her “watch”… could this chair be too comfortable, planting dangerous thoughts of sleep?

She quickly undid the recline.

A leather-like pouch hung on the side of the chair with three remote controls. She picked one up that looked like it might operate the big screen TV over the fireplace.

She pressed a green button.

A flickering noise, but the giant screen remained dark. She pressed the “up” arrow, then down to move through channels as the TV screen remained blank.

Not that she expected anything else.

She guessed it had been such a long time since the last broadcast of Adult Swim or The Vampire Diaries. And those shows… always repeats, even back home on Staten Island.

No new shows. Not after the Can Heads.

And so many nights, the TV dead. No cable. No Wi-Fi.

As if such things never existed.

She guessed there might be DVDs around here somewhere—some people probably still watched them—maybe a player near the TV.

Instead, she got out of the over-padded chair and walked into the kitchen.

She opened the refrigerator without putting the kitchen light on.

The insides had been picked clean, and since their arrival this evening, they had only put a half-empty can of peas inside.

No refrigeration needed for all the other random canned goods that were supposed to keep them fed.

For how long ?

That was always the question.

She shut the door.

While back at the Mountain Inn—as terrible as it was there, with all those men looking at her and no doubt what they were thinking—at least it had been a place to stay.

To sleep.

But then that place had been overrun, Simon nearly captured by people—regular… people, if that’s what they really were—who decided that living like a Can Head was not such a bad idea.

People had to eat.

The memories… made her shiver.

But walking out of the kitchen, she realized that when she thought about their future, her future, what was there?

The hope of meeting up with people trying to build a life, so far away… Michigan!

Really? Might as well be Mars.

Could they really get there? And even if they did, what would they find?

She shook her head as if that could make these worries fly away. Then again out to the living room, only lit by the yellow light of a table lamp beside the recliner.

She saw all the books on the bookshelf.

Never been much of reader.

She liked her music. She liked watching her shows when they were on.

Reading… seemed difficult.

Now—not much choice.

She walked over to the built-in wooden shelves.

She didn’t recognize any of the books. The titles—meaningless.

All seemed old, many with their dust covers frayed, while those without covers had the stern, dark binding of the hymnals from the small Episcopalian church they used to go to on the big holidays.

Christmas. Easter.

Just the big holidays.

God—not much of a thing for them.

Seemed so long ago.

She ran her fingers over the spines, looking for a title, something that would make her want to slide one of the books out.

Then she came across one that—for some reason—she seemed to remember hearing about.

Had her mother read it? Or her dad?

Though she didn’t remember seeing him with a book either. Her dad liked to tinker with the car, do things in the garage, and, and…

She stopped that train of thought.

She slid the book out.

Gone With the Wind.

She nodded.

Yes, that title certainly seemed right, though she didn’t have a clue what the book was about.

Gone with the Wind.

Like everything. All gone, after a terrible wind blew through the world.

She brought the book with its dark, maroon binding back to the chair.

Probably going to be completely boring, she thought.

She opened the book, flicked through the blank pages, the title page, to Chapter One.

And read:

Scarlett O’Hara was not beautiful, but men seldom realized it when caught by her charm as the Tarleton twins were.

Hmm, she thought. Interesting way to begin a story…

*

Hours later, Kate looked up at the big clock on the fireplace mantel.

She had become so caught up in Scarlett, her world—and all her suitors!—that she forgot she was supposed to wake up Simon for his watch.

And since this novel of Tara, and the war, and those amazing dresses and men in uniforms had taken her completely away from this town, this house, her life…

This ugly, deadly world.

She made a vow: She’d always have a book with her.

Because that’s what books can do.

But with an awareness of the time, she now felt her own fatigue come roaring back.

She needed to awaken Simon, make sure he was okay.

Things had been so quiet. She barely was aware of her gun sitting on the coffee table.

She found a coaster and slid it into the book as a bookmark, closed it, and then started up the stairs.