Back To Our Beginning (18 page)

“I want Mommy,” Ricky whimpered, he buried his head against his father’s chest and sobbed.

“Me too,” Ethan said on choked words.

Ethan stroked Ricky’s hair, his cheek, he was his last link to the woman he loved so dearly. His hand rubbed up and down his son’s back. Ricky’s sobs ceased until Ethan noticed absently the boy had drifted into merciful slumber.

“Ethan?”

Ethan looked up pale-faced, eyes red from weeping. His devastation impaled Aidan who had to look away before he could continue.

“With Sarah gone, we should start looking for others.”

“Others?”

“Other people who’ve survived.”

“Why?”

“If for no other reason than for Ricky, he needs to be able to be around people.”

“What if there’s no one else? What if we’re the last three people left alive?”

“You can’t think like that,” Aidan said grasping Ethan’s hand and gripping it hard. “We must keep faith there’re others like us who’ve survived.”

“What has faith got us so far?” Ethan replied bitterly; he pulled his hand from Aidan’s and used it to cuddle his son closer.

Aidan rose from the floor and stalked over to their meager supply of canned goods. He lifted one from the small shelf then strode back to Ethan and once again crouched before him.

“How long do you think we have before these run out? How long before we’ll begin to starve.”

“You know how to find food,” Ethan wailed; he curled into himself not wanting to face any more pain that day.
Please no more pain.

“Ethan, I know you hurt inside. I know you hurt so bad you want to die. When my mom died I had no one, but you do, you have Ricky; he needs you, hell I need you both. We need to be realistic. We need more than to just exist. The animals are thinning out. We haven’t been able to find any large game; most of the plant life around here is depleted. There’re no fish. It’s time to move on. There’s nothing left to keep us here.”

“I’m afraid, Aidan. If we leave the safety of these walls what will we find?”

“Maybe,” Aidan began, tears in his eyes, “maybe we could find Ricky his own Sarah to love.”

* * * *

Once again the three stood by the grave. The day, though cold, was clear. There was a recent snow powdering the ground. The men packed what they thought was important but allowed Ricky to take a funny-looking old rag doll that had been Sarah’s. The last beloved toy of her childhood. The one thing she always clung to. Ethan hadn’t the heart to bury her with it when Ricky clung to it so desperately the day they buried his mother. He stubbornly refused to give it up; instead, he made a trade and sacrificed his own beloved bear. A dog-eared treasure from his babyhood, the only toy he’d clung to when his family raced for the safety of the bomb shelter in the middle of that fateful night. Ethan thought the swap appropriate. Mother and child would have a piece of each other forever.

Aidan became mobile. He began the quest anew—the one he started months ago to find survivors. Aidan didn’t bother to look back; Ethan and Ricky would follow. Loaded down with provisions, the three struck out heading north. Aidan felt it was safer to travel north away from the ocean. He couldn’t fathom the devastation near such large bodies of water. Inland seemed safest, although the tornadoes and hurricanes still struck occasionally. They needed to move fast and hopefully a little luck would smile on them and they would be able to find a safe shelter for the cold night that would descend upon them soon enough.

* * * *

“Have you got PMS or what?” Cord exploded.

Their group had been traveling together for some time. They had begun to depend on one another, trust one another, though tensions still ran high at times. The men had run out of bullets as predicted and fashioned crude bows and arrows and a few spears, supplementing their diet with other small game. The rifle, though void of ammunition, Tansy refused to part with it, dragging it along, her special link to her husband.

“That was last week; this time it’s just because you irritate the hell out of me,” Shanie screamed back.

Tansy feared for her middle child’s life when she verbally confronted Cord. Surprisingly, the powerful man seemed to have no inclination to harm her in any way. Intimidate yes, but with physical violence he drew the line, barely. Cord had backed Shanie up against trees and pressed her against walls, but never once had he made good on a threat to strike her or any of the others when they interfered.

Grabbing double fistfuls of Shanie’s coat, Cord picked her up off the ground and glared at her. He was close to a foot and a half taller and next to him she looked like a small child. Michaela, wide-eyed, clutching her doll, sought out the safety of her mother as did Emmy. Emmy was terrified of Cord and did her best to keep her distance, much to Cord’s amusement. Tansy watched the confrontation with trepidation but had to admit, if annoyingly, Shanie seemed to go out of her way to illicit the altercations.

“Do you have a death wish?” Cord growled into Shanie’s face.

Shanie glared back, her eyes narrowed. “How many men does it take to intimidate one young woman? Gee none, just one big snake.”

“If you were a woman, we wouldn’t be having this conversation, at least not from this position,” Cord said with menace. The implication was unmistakable.

“If you insist on being this close to me, might I recommend breath mints,” Shanie bellowed, her face now red with embarrassment from his sexual innuendo.

Cord dropped her and she landed in a heap at his feet; he spun then strode away furiously. Shanie, equally furious, scrambled from her knees, marching off in a different direction, fists balled, leaving the others to stare openmouthed.

Tansy handed Michaela over to Emmy who took her into the basement of an old home they’d found still standing. The puppy followed closely on their heels. Each time after a confrontation, Tansy had followed her daughter to console her. This time she struck out in a different direction.

“Maybe you best leave him be,” Clint said, holding onto Tansy’s arm.

Clint was concerned for her, he knew Cord wouldn’t strike Tansy but he also knew Cord thought of Shanie as a child. He had no such illusions about her mother. Clint had seen his interest growing.

“Please stay with Emmy and Mike.”

Her eyes were so filled with anguish Clint relented, if reluctantly. Sullenly, he made his way into the basement as well after a backwards glance of misgiving.

Tansy approached Cord; she took a deep breath and faced him. Cord looked at the woman before him, her features remained neutral, but he could see the pulse in her neck beating frantically. Her jaw line tight, an indication her teeth were clamped together to keep them from chattering, her lips a tight line of control, but to her credit she looked outwardly calm. Cord waited for the reprimand that was sure to come, but was caught off-guard by her words.

“Thank you for your patience with Shanie. She’s angry about Chris and she’s angry about what life has thrown at her.”

Cord watched her internal struggle and his grudging respect grew again. He knew she was afraid of him but didn’t back down; he wished she’d back down.

“She’s lucky life isn’t the only thing thrown at her.” Cord growled; his threat unmistakable as he took an intimidating stance then balled his massive fists, eyes narrowing.

Tansy looked up at him fearfully, retreating a step, wary of his quick unpredictable temper then nodded. Head bowed, she began to back away and turned to leave.

“Vinegar,” Cord said, he relaxed his hands. Tansy stopped and turned to face him. “I didn’t mean to kill the boy, it was an accident, but what’s done is done.”

Tansy was surprised at his words and his intensity. She would’ve liked to believe him but remained skeptical. She turned and continued on to the others. Shanie was already curled up in a corner of the basement much to Tansy’s relief. Clint fluttered around happily now that Tansy had returned safe and sound. Cord sauntered in shortly after her.

The chicken they caught that had been roasting on a stick was now char-broiled and smoldering unappetizingly. Everyone had exited the basement to watch as Cord and Shanie had exchanged words. Cord didn’t say a word as he peeled off the outer crunchy blackness to reveal inner sooty blackness.

“Don’t worry Tansy, my Annie couldn’t cook worth crap when we first got married,” Clint said offering her a smile.

Tansy glared at him. “Why am I always the one that’s blamed when dinner is burned?”

“Well, ’cause you’re the woman.”

“So because I’m a woman, cooking automatically is up to me?” Tansy questioned, eyes narrowed.

“Well sure,” Clint said, smiling indulgently as if it were a known fact.

“You egotistical male chauvinist pig.” Tansy snarled. Clint’s eyes rose in panic.

“Now, honey.”

“Don’t you ‘honey’ me. I may be just a woman to you, but I have other responsibilities besides cooking. I have children to look out for; I have men to deal with, difficult men. I have life to deal with. I have survival to deal with. I work just as hard on any hunt and help clean the animals. It’s bloody hard to cook over an open uncontrolled flame without proper utensils or a grill. Don’t you patronize me.”

Shanie chuckled and shook her head. She looked over at Cord who was watching her mother’s tirade then he cast a glance at her.

“Now you know I come by it honestly.” Shanie laughed.

Cord had to agree. Though Tansy retained a healthy fear of Cord, she maintained an infuriating belligerence when confronted with unfair social etiquette. Cord had found himself on the receiving end of her outrage a few times. Surprised at first at her tirade, Cord found it to be entertaining. Most confrontations left him wide-eyed at her tenacity. That a woman so small compared to him would dare to elicit any kind of retaliation was unfathomable. She seemed completely unaware she could be in any danger of retribution by her outbursts.

“Listen honey, maybe you’re right, maybe we all jist need to watch out for dinner,” Clint offered.

“Maybe we all need to find something else to eat,” Randy grumbled.

“Maybe we should just have more bear,” Emmy suggested.

This idea was met with a modest amount of acceptance. The dried bear meat was eaten with hunger but not enjoyment; they’d already devoured enough to make it seem commonplace. Perhaps morning would bring other sustenance.

* * * *

Squish. Michaela stuck one small boot into the puddle of mud then pulled it out laughing at the funny squishing sounds it made. She did it again, giggling at the strange noise as it swallowed her booted foot then howled loudly in disgust as the puppy trampled past her and nosedived into the goo, spraying bits of dirty rainwater and splatters of mud on her face, neck and chest.

“Mommy,” she wailed, strong hands picked her up and a deep voice scolded the puppy. Michaela smiled adoringly into the face of Clint who winked at her then tweaked her nose to rid it of muddy spray.

“You’re not my mommy.”

“No, I’m no one’s mommy all right.” He hefted her slight form onto one broad shoulder and began to whistle a tune Michaela loved.

“Mommies aren’t so big,” she declared and wrapped a small arm around his forehead.

“Nope.”

“Mommies don’t make silly noises.”

“How ’bout we jist keep the silly noises between us?” Clint asked; he didn’t think Tansy would appreciate him teaching Michaela to burp the alphabet.

Pouting, Michaela leaned forward over his head and looked upside down into Clint’s face. He looked back up at her cross-eyed making her laugh. Grasping her head and body he flipped her over and set her on her small feet. Not ready to give up the play, Michaela turned and stuck two muddy boots onto the tops of Clint’s and grabbed his hands.

The puppy was bounding back and forth on huge dirty feet, begging to be noticed until he saw Cord approach. Seeing the large man’s purpose-filled stride, the puppy stuck his tail between his legs and slunk away. Clint picked up Michaela and tucked her into the crook of his arm and nestled her against his chest. Frowning, Cord hesitated for a brief moment then scowled at both Clint and Michaela, who was looking up at him with wide curious eyes.

“Why does Shanie call you General Cord?” Michaela asked innocently.

Clint bit back a chuckle, set the girl on her feet and gave her behind a gentle pat, ordering her to find her mother. Smiling, he looked into Cord’s angry expression.

“Them kids have no discipline.”

“Them kids don’t have no home, no food, no safety.”

Cord shook his head as if it was useless to argue then changed the subject. He looked around the area scanning it, it was wet and mucky. Something about it bothered him. Something didn’t seem right.

“Hey,” Randy called, coming over to join them. “You notice it’s kinda strange around here?”

“Why?” Clint asked.

“Dead like. No debris,” Cord mused. “Just muck and water in spots, dry in others, but open.” Not many places were barren of debris; it seemed to be in abundance everywhere else they traveled. The emptiness seemed disturbing; one complete area untouched. It stretched for some distance in either direction.

The men stood gazing around them and didn’t notice Tansy’s approach, she held Michaela on her hip in the cloth carrier Clint made, expecting them to be moving off soon.

“General,” Michaela called.

“I’m not a General, my name is Cord.”

Michaela ducked her head against her mother and mumbled, “Cranky Cord.”

Before Cord could respond, Tansy intervened. “Now children, no fighting.”

“He started it,” Michaela mumbled.

“Did not.”

“Cord, did it occur to you you’re arguing with a three-year-old?” Randy said.

“Piss off,” Cord snapped, realizing what a spectacle he was making and seeing no way to save face.

“Ooohhh, naughty words,” Michaela said looking wide-eyed at Cord.

“All right, enough,” Tansy interjected patiently. “Call a truce please, you two, or I’ll put you both over my knee.”

“Me first,” Cord said.

Laughing, Tansy had known that would change his mood. Anything to do with her being able to get the upper hand was met immediately with a challenge of acceptance. Michaela was not amused. She waggled a finger at her mother and in her best daddy’s voice said sternly,