Waves, grey and huge, rolling against a sky filled with battered black clouds. Jack felt the pitch of a boat under his feet, felt the burn of wet rope against his palms, turned to see flames, painfully bright against all the grey and black. Too close, too close, had to get farther away –
“Jack.”
He sat bolt upright, holding his breath until his surging mind and darting eyes could orient him. The prairie. Near Limon. Deep in the night, the only illumination a waxing crescent moon in a sky glorious with stars.
Piper’s voice again, from a few feet away. “You’re okay. It was just a nightmare.”
“Just a nightmare,” Jack repeated hoarsely. “Just a dream.” And not even a bad one. They were all unsettling, so detailed and real, but he hadn’t even died in this one. He released the breath he’d been holding, and took the time to draw several more calming breaths before he spoke again. “Is it my watch?”
“Not quite – you’ve got 15 minutes to go. Do you think you can go back to sleep?”
“No.” He unzipped his sleeping bag, checked his boots, and slid his feet into them. Ed slept on, Rosemary curled up next to him, but Owen’s eyes were open, sparkling faintly in the scant moonlight. Jack stood. “I’ll be right back. Then you can get some rest.”
He moved well away from their camp to relieve himself, shivering as the soft but steady wind cooled the sweat on his body. Before they had embarked on this journey, he and Piper had taken an exploratory camping trip, checking out the area north of Woodland Park, the town of Deckers and the surrounding resort camping areas. In the five nights they’d been out, they had become familiar with each other’s sleeping patterns, including the signs of encroaching nightmares.
It had bothered him at first, a vulnerability he wouldn’t have chosen to share, but Piper’s piteous whimpers had quickly relieved him of his pride. His dreams were harbingers, warnings of danger to come. He was certain of this. Piper’s disquiet rose from the abuse her body and mind had suffered, from her damaged heart. She was so tough when awake, so capable and formidable. It hurt his heart to hear her secret pain.
He picked his way through the tall grass back to camp, shrugging into a jacket as Piper slipped away for a moment of privacy. When she returned, she curled up in her sleeping bag, snugging the mummy bag around her head. She didn’t ask about his dream, and he wouldn’t ask about hers when he had to rouse her out of it. He walked the perimeter of their camp twice, then settled down on the campstool they had set up on the rise above their sleeping area, watching over her sleep with a protectiveness he knew she would reject if her eyes were open.
He didn’t understand yet what Piper was to him, or might be in the future. He had dreamed of her, had recognized her the moment their eyes met, but all that told him was that she would have significance, that she would have a role in his future. Nothing romantic or sexual had stirred between them, though a friendship was unfolding, something he very much enjoyed. They had similar senses of humor, similar interests in people and what motivated them. He enjoyed talking to her, admired her grit, and was glad to have her as one of his companions on this journey. For now, their relationship was all he wanted it to be.
Besides, given what Piper had survived, she might not ever want a romantic relationship, much less be capable of a healthy one. He didn’t know all the details – he didn’t think anyone did, not even Naomi – but he knew enough. Her ordeal hadn’t broken her, but it had twisted her, body, mind and soul. She made him think of the troubled kids he had known, with a veneer of anger defending the deep, deep hurt. She took refuge in being strong and in control, just as Gracie hid behind her intellectual capabilities. He felt a vast tenderness for both of them.
And there was Layla, still in his heart. He sensed her sometimes, a soft brush of air, her distinctive scent, the faintest echo of her laughter. Jack glanced at Owen, wondering if she visited him, too – her lover, father of her child. He had asked Verity about it once, and she had confirmed it. Layla did visit now and again. Something left she was still “invested in,” in Verity-speak. A task she wanted to see completed. Layla’s visits were both comfort and torture. Most of the time, her absence was a raw hollow inside him.
The night was holy with stillness, pure, a perfect time to open his heart to God. What the future would hold for Christianity he couldn’t begin to guess, but he felt like he’d lived through fire and come home. Layla’s death had broken him in ways he couldn’t have imagined. For the first time in his life, he had understood the gaping hollowness of loss. Jack had looked around at his community with eyes that could finally see and had been completely humbled. These people had survived the deaths of lovers and children, of parents, spouses and best friends. And they had persevered. Their strength was astonishing.
He had also recognized some truths about himself, truths that still made him wince in discomfort, even here in the dark, alone with this spectacular sky and the wind rolling soft waves in the prairie grass. He lifted his face to the stars and marveled again, as he always would, that God could love such a flawed and un-lovely man.
As badly as he had treated Layla, he had treated his own sister worse. He knew, now, that Verity had been right. He’d failed the lesson the first time God had given it, when Cara had needed him. He’d failed again when Layla could have been both teacher and lover. Now he had a chance to come full circle, to re-unite with his sister and be the brother he always should have been. To be the man God had intended him to be.
Jack watched over his companions through the dark hours, walking the perimeter occasionally, standing to shift from foot to foot when he got too cold or too sleepy. Shortly before dawn, Piper twitched violently in her sleeping bag, then went still. Jack held his breath, hoping she would settle, but her legs started to thrash, and she started moaning softly, an anguished, “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.” He moved to crouch beside her, resting his hand firmly on her shoulder.
“Piper. Wake up. You’re safe.”
He moved back smoothly when she shot upright, a dance they’d already done too many times. Both Owen and Ed started awake, and Rosemary whined. Jack held a palm out, letting them both know it was okay. Ed settled back down, murmuring soothingly to his dog, but Owen stayed as he was, raised on an elbow to watch, his forehead wrinkled in concern.
Piper’s breathing was ragged. She fought her way free of her sleeping bag, then scrambled a few feet away. Jack heard her retch, a pattern he’d learned to expect when she sobbed her regret in her sleep. He kept his distance, letting her finish in as much privacy as he could give her, getting a bottle of water and a soft cloth from the pack on his bike. He handed both to her when she returned. She accepted them wordlessly, and he walked the perimeter again while she swished out her mouth and wiped her face. She had laid back down when he returned, but he knew she wasn’t sleeping. Owen, too, was still awake, lying on his back with his head resting on his stacked hands, staring at the stars above. Jack dragged the campstool closer and sat down.
“How long ‘til dawn?” Piper’s voice was husky, but she had regained control.
“About an hour, maybe less.” He knew she didn’t want to go back to sleep, but she needed to. She had only been asleep a few hours. He started talking. “Did I ever tell you how I came to be named ‘Jack?’”
He actually felt her smile in the dark. “You didn’t.”
“Well, I’ll tell you, then.” He settled back, crossing his legs at the ankle, and pitched his voice to entertain and soothe. “My mother was probably the biggest fan of Little House on the Prairie of all time, both the books and the TV series. Michael Landon made her swoon, which was why my father put his foot down, emphatically, when she wanted to name me ‘Michael.’ He put the kibosh on ‘Charles’ as well, so they agreed on ‘Jack,’ which, if you will remember, was the name of the dog.”
Piper shook with soft laughter in the dark, and he smiled. He could feel the tension easing out of her, the loosening of muscles that would permit her to return to sleep. He glanced at Owen, and to his surprise, could see the lighter white of the man’s teeth in the dark as he grinned. Jack went on.
“When my little sister came along, she started at the top with ‘Caroline.’ She always hoped to add a Mary, Laura, Carrie and maybe even a Grace, but it wasn’t meant to be. Cara and I were it for them.”
“My mom wanted a big family, too, but she kept miscarrying after me.” Piper’s voice was starting to sound sleepy. “Macy was a surprise tag-along. We loved her so much. She was such a gift.”
“We felt the same way about Cara. Dad told me Mom lost three babies between us, and he was ready to call it quits. She begged him for one more try, and they had Cara. I was nine. I couldn’t believe how much I loved her.”
His throat closed and he stopped speaking, surprised both by the memory and by the power of it. How could he have forgotten? Baby sister, so cute, so little and silly. And here was Piper, never to see her baby sister again. He cleared his throat and went on.
“We never called her ‘Caroline’ – well, my mom did when she was mad – but she was always ‘Cara’ or ‘Care-bear’ or ‘the baby,’ which she hated. She started going by a different name when she ran away, and, when I saw her years later, she said she’d had it legally changed.” He made himself relax the sneer that had twisted his face. “Cassandra something-or-other. She didn’t want us to find her. She was only sixteen when she took off. She kept it as a stage name, for her work as a psychic. I hated the name and everything it represented, so I refused to use it.”
“That’s interesting – like the Cassandra of Greek mythology?”
“I didn’t ask why she chose it.” Jack was quiet for a moment. “Why didn’t I ask? It must have been important to her.”
“If she went to the trouble to change it legally, it’s safe to say the name has great meaning for her. In Greek mythology, Cassandra was the daughter of King Priam of Troy. Apollo wanted to seduce her – or as my mom used to tell it, Apollo ‘wanted her favor’ – so he gave her the gift of prophecy. When she turned him down flat, he cursed her so that no one would believe her prophecies.”
Jack winced. “Well. That would fit. I take it one of your many pets was named ‘Cassandra?’”
“A chinchilla.” Piper yawned, and settled deeper into the sleeping bag. “Do you know which name she would be going by now?”
“I hadn’t thought about that. Won’t do us much good to ask around for ‘Cara’ if she’s known as ‘Cassandra,’ will it?” Jack grimaced. “Crap.”
Again, he felt her smile. His G-rated profanity never failed to amuse her. “Watch your mouth, Pastor.”
She turned away from him with another jaw-cracking yawn, and curled up. Jack stood to walk the perimeter again and found Owen watching him. “We’ll find your sister,” he said. “I’m sure of it.”
Then he, too, rolled over and settled into his sleeping bag, leaving Jack to wonder at the other man’s certainty. Owen spoke so rarely, it was hard not to read importance into everything he said. Maybe, like Piper’s Brody, he had a sense of the future, of what was to come. No, Jack corrected himself. Not “Piper’s Brody.” The man had taken enough from her. Linking them, even in his mind, was offensive.
Dawn finally warmed the eastern horizon with pink. Jack set up a campstool to shade Piper’s face from the rising sun, then sat down and watched the prairie wake up, smiling as meadowlarks sang and dove for their breakfast, and insects whirred and dodged. Little moments of joy, as Naomi always said. In this hard new world, all you could do was swim from one island to the next.
The community would do well with Naomi leading them, he mused. He was sure of it, even if she wasn’t. He wondered if they would decide to stay in the Woodland Park area or if they would relocate to a more remote and defensible location but the wondering was academic. His future lay in a different direction. He hadn’t said as much to Piper or the others yet, but somehow he knew he wouldn’t be returning to live in Colorado. Something beyond Cara was pulling him home.
To Jack’s relief, Piper slept several hours past dawn. He, Owen and Ed had already washed and eaten when she roused around. The three of them made themselves scarce to give her some privacy, and Jack walked to the top of the hill again, planning to see if he could detect any activity in Limon through the binoculars. Ed joined him.
“What do you think?” Rosemary ranged all around them, fresh as a daisy, ears perky with interest in the bright morning sun. “Or should I say, what do you feel?”
Jack smiled and lifted the binoculars to his eyes, scanning for a moment before he answered. “It looks and feels quiet. Hopefully, we won’t need any of Martin’s strategies.”
“Well, hope for the best, plan for the worst.” Ed shot him a sideways look. “If he said that once, he said it a thousand times. So we walk in armed, Owen in the lead, then you and Piper, with Rosemary and me bringing up the rear.”
Jack nodded. They had worked out this type of approach with Martin. “If they want to get aggressive, we identify the leader, I start talking, and Piper aims for the strongest bond-line he or she has while we back out.”
Ed smiled. “Our pretty-as-a-picture secret weapon.” He shook his head. “Never saw anything like her and her mother for shooting, and who would have guessed? First time I met Naomi, she was bringing a plate of cookies to my front door, hair and makeup done just so, a sweet, pretty lady. She might even have been wearing an apron. And Piper. In my mind, she’s still a cute little tomboy with skinned knees, a hot temper and a ready fist.” The smile fell away from his face, leaving him looking old and haunted. “And now here we are. Never could have imagined it.”
Jack nudged him gently away from the past. “We should confirm the plan with the others and get moving. If this doesn’t work out, I’d like to put some distance between us and them before night falls.”
Ed nodded, and whistled for Rosemary. She came tearing out of the tall grass instantly, tongue lolling, and glued herself to Ed’s side. He touched her head, then looked up at Jack. “Wouldn’t hurt for you to do some of that praying you do, Pastor. I’d hate to see us meet trouble on our very first stop.”
By the time they joined the others, Piper had washed up, changed her clothes, and was working on finishing her breakfast. Her short blonde hair stood out in wet spikes around her head. She looked up, her sharp eyes the exact shade of green Jack knew so well from dreams. The expression on her face was all determination, no fear. Piper’s vulnerabilities belonged to the night. During the day, she was a Valkyrie.
Owen joined them, and Jack went over what he and Ed had discussed. He watched Piper as he talked, noting the faint circles under her eyes, noting also that her movements were brisk and that she was eating the last of Verity’s vegetables with enthusiasm. She nodded occasionally as he talked, but her gaze darted and swooped with the movements of the birds all around them. When a red-winged blackbird trilled its distinctive song, she smiled. Then, her eyes narrowed. “I don’t believe it. It can’t be.”
Jack followed the direction of her gaze just as a raven fluttered to land on the handlebars of Piper’s motorcycle. The big bird cocked his head to the side when he saw them looking at him and croaked, a sound familiar even to Jack’s unpracticed ear.
“Isn’t that the raven your mom calls ‘Loki?’” When Piper nodded, a dumbstruck expression on her face, Ed grinned, Owen shook his head in amusement, and Jack laughed. “Well, what do you know. You wouldn’t let her come, but she managed to send her spies just the same. A post-apocalyptic GPS tracking device. Only Naomi could have pulled that off.”
Piper looked away from Loki, her expression a complicated mixture of irritation and love, with just a touch of fear. She closed her eyes for a moment, resting her hand over her heart, then gasped softly. When her eyes opened again, the moss-green was magnified by tears. “She sent a message. She loves me, and she’s sorry. Damn it, mom.”
She surged to her feet and took refuge in movement, rolling her sleeping bag and stowing the rest of her supplies. Loki watched them all curiously as they moved about the camp, then croaked again and flew off to the west. By the time they were ready to leave, the sun was approaching mid-morning and they were all anxious to get on the road.
Once again, the bikes seemed dangerously loud when they took off. They rode slowly, bumping across the prairie until they reached State Road 71, one of the numerous roads that led into Limon. There weren’t many vehicles here, nothing like the congestion they’d seen in other spots, especially when they had crossed I-25. They increased their speed, Jack in the lead, with Piper right behind him. The vehicles they passed had clearly been ransacked for supplies, but there were no bodies inside. Jack slowed his bike as they passed a wide-open minivan, and nodded at the grass-covered mounds alongside the road.
“Look at that. Someone buried the people who were inside.”
“Respect for the dead is a good sign,” Ed commented. “Tends to go hand-in-hand with respect for the living.”
They slowed again when they started to pass occasional houses. Piper pulled up alongside Jack and signaled – her instinct for people was the most sensitive – and they pulled off at the now-deserted Tamarack Golf Course. They cut the bikes’ motors, and Piper rubbed the back of her neck.
“They know we’re here. They must have watchers stationed outside of town. There’s no one in our immediate vicinity, but I’m sure they’re converging on us. I know we planned to leave the bikes before we were detected, but it’s too late.”
“So what do you think?” Jack asked. “Should we just ride on, try to get closer to I-70?”
Piper thought for a moment, then shook her head. “No, let’s leave the bikes here and walk. It will seem less threatening. Besides, none of us can shoot very well from a moving motorcycle, and you can’t hocus-pocus ‘em if they can’t hear your voice over the bikes. No sense in negating our only advantages.”
Jack nodded, then made eye contact with Ed and Owen, who also nodded agreement. “It’s as good a plan as any. If worse comes to worst, we scatter and make our way back here.”
They pushed the motorcycles behind the small club house, then donned their emergency backpacks. Jack and Ed carried shotguns, Piper the same AR15 rifle she’d had since her time with Brody’s group, while Owen was armed with the hunting rifle he’d had since he was a boy. They headed back out to the main road, the crunch of their boots on gravel the only sound. Falling into the formation they’d agreed on, they walked towards town. Jack’s senses were so painfully wide-open, he could feel his companions’ anxiety as his own, even Rosemary’s.
They began to pass more and more homes, and the sensation of being watched increased steadily until Jack’s skin was crawling with it. Out of the corners of his eyes, he began to detect movement behind the houses they were passing, but still, no one challenged them or stepped into the open. They’d been walking for about fifteen minutes when Jack decided he’d had just about enough of the cat-and-mouse routine.
“This is as good a place as any, Owen. Let’s see if they want to come out and talk.”
Owen stopped and rolled his massive shoulders, scanning from side to side. Piper and Jack took up positions back-to-back behind him, facing out, while Ed turned to watch the way they’d come.
Jack spoke over his shoulder. “What can you tell us, Piper?”
“Their bond lines are all around us, like a grid,” Piper answered. “I count eight in our immediate vicinity, a lot more radiating north of here.”
Jack called out. “Are you willing to talk to us? We’re friends of Martin and Grace Ramirez and Quinn Harris. We just want to talk.”
They waited. In the silence, a meadowlark sang, and Jack could hear Piper’s breathing, swift and light. Finally, a man’s voice called out. “Tell us about Grace and Quinn.”
Jack turned his face towards the unseen speaker. “They’re both part of our community now. Teenagers. They traveled from here together to look for Grace’s dad, Martin Ramirez. They were the only ones in their immediate families to survive.”
A few more heartbeats of silence. Then a man stepped out from behind a house on Jack’s side of the road and began walking towards them. He carried a shotgun low across his hips, but his finger was on the trigger. Owen stiffened, and shifted his rifle towards the man. The man stopped walking, squinting at them. Then, he spoke.
“You could probably get a shot off, but you’ll be dead before me. There are twenty weapons trained on you right now.”
“More like eight,” Jack kept his voice easy, confident, in spite of his tension. Underneath the “easy,” though, he layered just a little power. “We aren’t looking for a fight, but we will defend ourselves. We’re just passing through, and we wanted to see if there was a community here, make a connection for our own people. If you’re not interested, we’ll just go on our way.”
The man scrutinized them a moment longer, then called over his shoulder without taking his eyes off them. “Bernice? What’s the call?”
A woman’s quavering voice answered from out of sight. “I think they’re okay, Brian. Everything he said was the truth.”
Brian snapped a question at Jack. “Do you intend us any harm?”
Jack pitched his voice to carry to the hidden Bernice. “No, we don’t.”
A moment passed, then Bernice’s voice warbled out again. “Truth.”
Brian’s shoulders relaxed, and he took his finger away from the trigger. “My name is Brian Weaver. We’ve learned to be wary of strangers.”
“I’m Jack. This is Owen, Piper, Ed and Rosemary.” He nodded to them in turn. “We don’t intend to stay. We’re headed east to look for family, but if our communities could connect, we might be able to help each other in the future.”
Brian gestured for them to walk with him. “Why don’t you join us for our noon meal? We can trade information.”
Jack glanced around his circle of companions and got a brief nod from each. By earlier agreement, he, Owen and Ed slung their firearms over their shoulders, while Piper kept hers cradled in the crook of her arm. As they walked, Jack noted people stepping out from behind houses and buildings, making eye contact with Brian, then fading back at his nod. An elderly woman emerged from behind another house as they passed, approaching with a gait that was both spry and hitching.
“I’m Bernice,” she said, in the wobbly voice they had heard before. She held out her hand. “I approve all of our newcomers.”
Jack took her soft, papery hand between his own. So many senior citizens had died in the plague, and the Woodland Park community had come to view the few surviving elders as treasures. “Bernice,” he said, taking the time to really connect with her rather than falling back on what Layla used to call his “smarm.” He squeezed her hand warmly before letting her go. “The friend I mentioned, Martin Ramirez, is very good at knowing when people are telling the truth, too.”
“I knew Martin’s first wife, Lena, though I don’t recall ever meeting him. Deployed all the time, as I remember, then they divorced. I used to golf with Lena’s mom, every Tuesday. She sure adored those grandkids, Gracie and little Benji. She passed a few years before the plague, and I’m glad she didn’t live to see it. Sometimes, I’m sorry I did.”
“We wouldn’t know what to do without you, Bernice.” Brian moved to the old woman’s side, tucking her hand in the crook of his arm. Their eyes met, and Bernice nodded. Brian looked back at the travelers, his eyes once more assessing. “Have you changed? Since the plague?”
Jack returned the scrutiny, feeling his way forward. He and Piper had talked at length about the fact that different groups of people would have different attitudes towards the apparent shift in humanity and about the need to proceed with caution. “Everyone who survived has changed, in many ways,” he hedged.
Before Brian could respond, Bernice made an impatient sound and swatted Jack’s arm. “Don’t get slippery, young man. We appreciate straight talk here, and you won’t come to harm, no matter your answer. Are you psychic or not?”
Jack bit the inside of his cheek to control what might be misinterpreted as a disrespectful grin. “We call it intuitive, ma’am. And yes, many of the people in our community are different, including me. I feel what others are feeling, like their emotions are mine.” Telling all wasn’t necessary, he decided, and left it at that. “People here have changed as well?”
Brian answered. “A lot of us, not everyone. Intuitive – that’s a good way to describe it. Bernice here knows when people are lying or being deceptive. I’m not as sensitive, but I feel things more strongly than before, like what used to be a hunch is now a sure thing.” He looked past Jack. “What about the rest of you?”
Piper spoke. “I can see the connections between people.”
Ed chimed in next. “My wife used to say I couldn’t catch a hint with a butterfly net, so I guess evolution left me behind.” He inclined his head towards Owen. “Our friend here is the strong and silent type and keeps his own counsel.”
Jack approved of their friendly but carefully edited descriptions. “What about the children here? Have the majority of them changed, too?”
Brian nodded. “All of them, much more so than the adults.” He smiled crookedly. “We’ve had a time, trying to figure out how to handle some of the little ones. They say whatever they’re thinking, and they know things they shouldn’t.”
Jack let his grin show this time. “We had an interesting classroom conversation about Viagra that was started by a five-year-old girl.”
“Classroom?” Bernice’s gaze was sharp, interested. “I was the high school principal, before I retired. You’re a teacher, then?”
“A youth pastor, before. Anything I needed to be after, including a teacher.”
Brian’s laugh was wry. “I hear that.” He gestured for them to start walking again, keeping the pace easy for Bernice. Jack and Piper walked beside them, Ed and Owen a short distance behind. “I used to sell insurance. Fat lot of good those closing skills are doing me now.”
He looked at Piper, and though he was subtle about it, his eyes performed a thorough sweep. Jack could feel the other man’s interest, and Piper’s sudden tension. “What about you, Piper?”
“College student, before. University of Northern Colorado.” Her voice was clipped, almost unfriendly, and Jack had to resist the urge to step in, to soften the interaction for her. She wouldn’t thank him for it. “Now I just shoot things that need shooting.”
Brian’s eyebrows shot up, but instead of discouraging his interest, Piper’s words spiked it. “Is that so? Your daddy taught you to shoot, did he?”
“My mother, actually.” Piper pointedly focused on Bernice, not quite the cut direct, but close enough. “Do you know about the gang that’s in control of Colorado Springs?”
Bernice’s face tightened. “We do. We’ve got some folks that are refugees from that mess. Denver is pretty bad, too, but not as organized, from what we hear. A lot of smaller gangs, fighting each other for resources. We’re more concerned about the group in Colorado Springs. They’re the most likely to cause us trouble in the future.”
They walked up a gravel driveway and past a two-story farmhouse, stopping in front of what appeared to be a long, low adobe bunkhouse. Brian gestured at the open doorway. “Here’s lunch. After things settled down, we all gathered on this end of town to consolidate resources and watch each other’s backs. We do a communal meal here at noon, Monday thru Friday. Keeps everyone in touch, keeps us all accounted for.”
He led them inside. The interior was dark and cool, thanks to the thick walls of the building and the strategically opened windows which allowed the ever-present prairie breeze in. About twenty people were already seated at long tables, which were set up cafeteria style. As one, they looked up, eyeing the newcomers with interest.
Once again, Jack was aware of particular interest in Piper, this time from a pair of young men seated on the far side of the room. Piper stopped walking, her eyes darting around the room, her discomfort with the attention they were getting obvious. As he watched, her chest started to heave, and her hands turned to white-knuckled claws on the rifle she still held. Her eyes swung around and locked onto Jack’s.
“I can’t breathe.”
She didn’t say the words, didn’t even mouth them, but he heard her voice as if she spoke directly in his ear. Her terror nearly swamped him. Jack shored up his shields and smiled smoothly at Brian and Bernice. “Excuse me just a moment, would you?”
He caught Ed’s eye and tilted his head towards Brian. Without missing a beat, Ed stepped into his spot and picked up the interaction, belying his earlier claim that he couldn’t take a hint. “If I could trouble you for a bowl of water for Rosemary? She feeds herself, but water would sure be appreciated…”
Jack moved to take Piper’s arm, steering them to an unoccupied corner of the room. Owen went with them, then turned his back, using his big body as a shield to give them some privacy. Jack looked down at Piper’s white, rigid face.
“What is it?”
“It’s just like the mess hall, at the camp at Walden.” Her eyes were glazed, locked on a vision from the past. “This is just like when Noah and I got there, and they were all staring at me. I don’t want them to stare at me. I don’t want it!” The words spilled out of her in strangled, gasping rushes. “This was a terrible mistake - we never should have come here!”
Jack pitched his voice to cut through her panic, layers of calm and logic and soothe. “This is not just like Walden, and if you take a deep breath, you’ll be able to see why. So take a deep breath.” He put a punch of imperative in his next word. “Now.”
Her chest heaved at his command, and her eyes opened wide in surprise. Jack nodded. “Good. Again.” He waited until she’d hauled in three deep breaths, then said, “Better. Now look around and tell me what you see. How is this different than Walden?”
Piper did as he asked. “The bonds extend outside this room. They’re not as isolated.” Her eyes flicked among the tables, and interest began to replace the panic. “They’re all bonded to Brian, but even more so to Bernice. She’s as much a leader as he is, and she’s beloved by all. She’s the center of a web of love, green lines everywhere, and they go both ways.” She looked at Jack. “Nobody loved Brody. They were all dependent on him, but most of them were also terrified of him. His lines were all red, and they only went one way – from the group to him.” Her eyes dropped, and a frown creased her forehead. “Well. Except for one.” Then she looked back up, and her eyes narrowed. “You used your voice thingy on me again, didn’t you?”
“Sure did. I’ll apologize later.” He inclined his head towards the young men, and Brian. “In the meantime, how do you want to play this? We can pretend you and I are together romantically, but if that would make you just as uncomfortable, it’ll never work. If I can feel what you’re feeling, chances are good someone else here can, too.”
Piper frowned. “Which is a weakness I don’t intend to advertise.”
She thought for a moment, then started to talk her way through it. “I don’t need to lie. If they ask, I just say I’m not interested. This group is civilized enough to accept that answer. They’re just looking. I can handle that.” Then her spine straightened, her shoulders squared and the Valkyrie met his gaze with narrowed eyes. “But if they try to do more than look, Jack, I’ll beat the shit out of them.”
“I’ll help.”
Owen’s voice was a rusty rumble, startling them both. He smiled down at Piper, and when Piper smiled back, Jack was shocked by a bolt of white-hot jealousy, piercing his chest like a spear. He blinked, hard and fast, stunned. Where had that come from? Then, he tuned in to what they were both feeling, and the stabbing tension in his chest eased.
Owen reached out to bump Piper’s shoulder with a huge fist, his smile turning into a grin. Big brother to little sister. “Actually, I would just let you handle it. Maybe take some bets on the side.”
Piper laughed. Buddy to buddy. “Deal, but you split the take with me 50-50.” She looked down for a moment, swallowed, then looked up at both Owen and Jack. “I’m sorry. I got blindsided. I’ll try not to let it happen again.”
Owen ducked his head and nodded. Jack managed a smile, still trying to make sense of his own reaction, and gestured towards the waiting group. “Atta girl. Let’s eat.”
They returned to Brian, Bernice and Ed. Brian’s eyes asked questions, but he didn’t give voice to them. Instead, he led them to the food spread out on a buffet table, and they all helped themselves to homemade tortillas, an abundance of fresh vegetables, and to Ed’s special delight, strips of grilled steak. Brian gestured to the food.
“Most of us have been ranchers for generations, and now we’re all gardeners, too. I’d guess we’ve had an easier time than most adapting.” They all sat down together as more people filed in and began serving themselves. “The refugees out of the cities have told us food is a constant issue. They’re fighting over roast cat and whatever canned stuff they can still find, when all they’d have to do is grow or raise their own. I guess people will either learn or starve.”
“How many survived the plague here?” Piper asked.
“Twenty-eight, including Grace and Quinn,” Brian answered. “But we’ve grown since then. We have folks from Denver and Colorado Springs, a few from Pueblo, travelers from parts east of here, and three babies born this summer. We now number eighty-six.”
He looked down for a moment. When he looked up, his face was both determined and sad. “There’s something I need to come clean about. My dad and I saw Grace and Quinn, right after the plague. They came into town looking for food. At that time we were scrambling, trying to make sure there was enough for everyone. Some folks were trying to hoard, strangers were coming through and stealing anything they could get their hands on. It was a free-for-all.”
Piper’s face hardened. Jack knew she had tucked Gracie under her wing, and though she teased her uber-maternal mother about being a broody hen, she was as protective as Naomi in her own way. “You’re the ones who shot at them.”
Brian didn’t flinch away from the judgement in her gaze. “We are. We were trying to disable their truck, but my dad was startled and his shot went high. They must have thought we were trying to kill them. We planned to go talk to them after a few days, but when we went out to the Harris ranch they were gone.” Brian swallowed hard. “It haunted my dad to his dying day. I lost him over the winter – pneumonia. It would mean a lot to me to apologize to those kids for both of us, but especially for my dad. It would help him rest easier, crazy as that sounds.”
Ed answered him. “It doesn’t sound crazy at all. Quinn and Grace ran into some trouble after they left here, and it might give their hearts some peace to know you didn’t intend to harm them. Grace, especially, needs to know that there are good people left in the world.”
“You could travel to Woodland Park yourself,” Jack suggested. “Make contact with the community and talk to the kids at the same time. Or, if you can’t be spared here, you could send a runner with a message.”
“I’ll make plans to go. No one here is indispensable. We try to double up on all our duties and tasks, and we share information constantly. So much knowledge has already been lost.” He shook his head. “We’re sitting on top of a huge alternative-energy plant, but there’s no one left alive who knows how to run it or how to maintenance the wind turbines. We’ve been trying to figure it out, but we’re so busy just living I’m afraid we’ll lose the incentive to try, along with so many other things.”
“When you get to Woodland Park, ask for a man named Alder,” Jack said. “He’s our chief mechanic and jury-rigger, and I think those turbines might make him drool.”
“Alder. I’ll remember. Well, then, enough about us.” Brian leaned forward, arms folded on the table. “Where are you headed, and how can we help?”
Jack outlined their plans while Brian listened, his face showing increasing concern. When Jack finished talking, Brian shook his head. “I hate to tell you this, but from what we’ve heard, you’re headed from bad to worse. We had a group arrive early this spring from all over back east. Three of them started in Pennsylvania, and they picked people up as they went. Seventeen of them made it here, but not before they ran into all manner of trouble. Word is, everything east of the Mississippi River is hazardous. Too populated. One fellow wouldn’t have made it out of Chicago alive if not for his dog – she was a retired police dog, if you can believe it, and she fought to the death to protect him.”
Ed glanced down at Rosemary, his face sober. “None of that sounds promising. No word of any organized effort to help folks or any attempts on the part of the government to get the country back on its feet?”
Bernice snorted and shook her head. “Sweetie, you’ve been around the block – maybe not as many times as me, but still. Those shysters won’t pop their heads up until the dust has long since settled. We’re on our own.”
Jack took a deep breath and blew it out. “I appreciate the information, but I’ve got to do what I’ve got to do.” He looked at Ed, Owen, and Piper in turn. “But if I haven’t said it before, I’ll say it now. You can stop, any time you want to. None of you are obligated to follow me into danger.” All three of them just stared back at him blandly, and Piper rolled her hand in a “get on with it” gesture. Jack finished anyway. “Just think it over.”
Around them, people were finishing with their food, but they weren’t leaving. Cards and board games came out, and a teenaged girl produced a guitar, learning chords under the direction of an older woman. Near the open windows, a trio of battered recliners were all occupied by people reading, and a group of men and women at an adjacent table all held knitting needles or crochet hooks.
Brian’s eyes flickered to Piper yet again. His glances had grown more and more lingering as the meal had progressed, in spite of the fact that Piper had met his attempts to draw her out with cold-eyed disinterest. “You all are welcome to stay a few days, if you like, and get to know us. Who knows?” He waited until Piper met his gaze, then gave her a smile so beautiful and charismatic, it had certainly clinched many a sales deal. “You might find something here you like and decide to stay.”
Two things happened at once: Owen seemed to swell to twice his normal size, and Piper bared her teeth, the expression as feral as Brian’s had been charming. Seated side by side as they were, the combined effect was magnificently intimidating. Brian’s eyes widened so suddenly the effect was comic, and Jack couldn’t stop a bark of laughter.
He clapped Brian on the shoulder and stood up. “We’ll take you up on part of that offer, Brian. Maybe Owen can take a look at those turbines, and I’ll bet Piper would like to talk to those folks from the east coast. But I think we’ll be moving on after that. In the meantime, how about if I sing for our supper? Could I borrow that guitar?”
Bernice beamed and clapped her hands. “Dinner and a show! Traci!” She waved at the teenager holding the guitar. “Bring that over here, honey!”
Traci did as Bernice asked, and Jack thanked her. He strummed and tuned for a moment, then looked up to find his traveling companions all gazing at him with varying degrees of surprise.
“I didn’t know you could play guitar,” Ed observed.
“Or sing,” Piper added, looking just a little nervous. Beside her, Owen remained silent, but his skepticism was plain to see. Piper went on. “You can sing, right? This isn’t going to be like when your drunk buddy gets up to karaoke and thinks – mistakenly – that he’s got a gift, right?”
Jack rolled his eyes. “Hello? Youth pastor, remember? I’ve got skills. It’s a pre-req.”
He looked around the room, and felt completely in his element for the very first time since before the plague. “Hi, everyone. I’m Jack. My friends and I truly appreciate your hospitality. You want to do a good old-fashioned sing-along?”
One of the knitters called back. “Could you sing for us?” She rested her elbows on the table and tilted her head to the side, gifting him with a flirty smile. “It’s been so long since we were entertained by a handsome man.”
There was some grumbling from the men scattered around the room at that, but Jack nodded. “Sure. How about some musical advice?” He caught Brian’s eye and winked, then strummed the plaintive opening notes of his favorite Bonnie Raitt tune, “Nobody’s Girl.”
“She don’t need anybody to tell her she’s pretty…”
Piper’s face bloomed a satisfying red, and Jack smiled as he sang. How he had missed this – he hadn’t played or sung so much as a note for over a year. He finished the song, and the room burst into applause. People started calling out requests, and if he knew it, he sang it. He coerced them into a few sing-alongs, and when his voice was raspy and his fingertips numb, he announced the last song.
“This one is for one of my friends. Piper, give ‘em a wave.” Piper rolled her eyes, pink-cheeked, but did as he asked. Jack looked at the two young men craning to get a better look from the back table, nudging each other and mouthing her name. When they realized he was staring at them, their cheeks, too, flushed with color. “Remember that first song I sang, guys? Refer back.”
Then he struck the bouncy opening chords of the Ray Charles classic. “Hit the road, Jack, and don’t you come back no more…”
Piper’s laughter rang through the room, and Jack realized he couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so happy.