Endless Flames (Surviving Ashes, Book Four) (20 page)

“Your family stayed to run the diner though. You said that your mom was the cook there before you,” Maxie pointed out, figuring the history of this small town was most likely fascinating to those interested in history like herself. She’d been one of those people who kept the History Channel on just to listen to while doing chores around the house. It had also been her favorite subject in school. She relaxed as Mabel shared with her the stories of some of the more notorious residents, those tales likely to help Maxie remember some of the family names of the locals. Derek was Mabel’s son and the best hand with technology of any of the town’s younger set. Some would have called him a geek because of his passion for electronics. Now they just called him a savior. He was married to Amy, who was currently talking to a woman named Rosa, who happened to be Prue’s sister. It was a lot of names to remember, but Maxie figured she’d have all of them down within a week’s time. “Who is the older gentleman Berke is talking to?”

“Oh, that’s Jarrett Moore.” Mabel rested her hands in her lap, seemingly content to point everyone out. “He served in World War II with his buddy over there, Randy Bassett. Those two are at least eighty-five, if not older. We don’t let him know it, but we keep a close eye on Jarrett because of his heart. Bad ticker, but you’d never know it. They both read stories to the children in the daycare.”

Maxie had to smile at the way Mabel was describing the tenants. She also spoke fondly of a man named Elijah Birch. He was also in his eighties and Maxie had met him out on the screened-in porch, where he liked to contribute by watching the comings and goings of the residents. He reported anything out of the usual through the two-way radio Mav had given him when they’d made their way up here after the eruption. His grey eyes had crinkled with enjoyment at the sight of Jacob, who’d immediately wanted to play with the older man’s cane. Mabel had advised Maxie that if she were heading out away from the group to check out with Elijah so he could inform those who needed to know the location of their sentries.

The main lodge was everything Berke had said it would be—warm, inviting, and a place one could call home. It, too, was deceiving. There were plenty of cliques within the people making their way to various locations around the lodge. That didn’t mean Maxie couldn’t appreciate what this place represented. It was now the center of their small community.

The welcoming smell of fresh baked homemade bread greeted a person as they walked through the main entrance’s double solid oaken doors, revealing the beautiful front desk with a couple of offices located down a short hallway to the left which Maxie had discovered was Tank and Henley’s personal space back before the eruption. They still were, but the team often used one or the other for meetings such as the one later this evening. Given that there would be more people in attendance, they most likely would use the conference room off to the end of the four-season room.

Beyond the front desk down a short flight of steps was the great room. It featured the most mesmerizing river rock fireplace large enough to cook a whole steer in. It rose two stories into the massive three-foot diameter roughhewn timbers that served as the rafters for the roof.

Berke had mentioned that the heavy logs used to build both the cabins and the lodge were going to come in handy. They would support the fantastic amount of weight the ash load would place on the roof of the wooden structures. The fireplace was the most impressive Maxie had ever seen in her life. To make it even more meaningful, the thick wood mantel held various pictures of Tank and the men in different settings, such as hunting, fishing, or just relaxing on the back patio with beers.

Overstuffed leather furniture and a soft rug surrounded the hearth where Jacob was currently being entertained. To the right was a surprisingly well-stocked wood paneled bar decorated with various neon beer signs, similar to an English dart tavern where a man was walking out, immediately zeroing his sights on Berke.

“And here comes the resident troublemaker,” Mabel announced with annoyance, waving a hand in the direction of a man who was overweight and losing some of his hair. He was running a thumb underneath his black suspender, as if that was helping him concoct a reason to interrupt the conversation between Berke and Jarrett. “That’s Stanley Ratliff. There’s been a feud between that man and Ernie for as long as I can remember.”

“Why?” Maxie asked, now engrossed upon hearing her mention the story. She wished she’d have taken Mabel up on the offer of coffee. Instead, she quickly checked on Jacob to find that Rosa was now showing him wooden blocks and then settled back against the couch. “They’ve obviously come to a truce considering Stanley is now staying here at the lodge.”

“Oh, honey,” Mabel uttered, shaking her head with sorrow, “those two men will never make amends. First, Stanley goes by the horrible nickname of Rat. You see, he owns the Summit Creek Camping Grounds southeast of town. He didn’t like it when Ernie came in and opened a fishing lodge that had more property and better accommodations, and then always hearing about the items being ordered for this place made Rat envious beyond the point where he makes choices without thinking them through or the consequences for others who could be hurt by them.”

“You mean items for the bunker? The ones Ernie bought from surplus?” Maxie asked, noticing the tension settle in between Berke’s shoulder blades. He never once looked toward the back of the lodge where Rat was slowly making his way toward the front, but it was more than apparent that Berke identified an approaching threat. “Why?”

“Rat didn’t have that kind of disposable income the way Ernie did. He—” Mabel stopped talking when they heard the front door open and caught sight of the man who entered. It took a while for him to remove his gasmask and Maxie found it odd that he didn’t look anyone in the eye. Instead, he opened the large closet and stored away his outerwear that he’d cleaned off outside on the porch before quietly heading upstairs. “That’s Rob Wicks. His son was—”

Maxie gently rested her hand over Mabel’s and squeezed her fingers in sympathy and understanding. While the interconnection between all these good folks seemed like a soap opera of sorts, they still all cared for one another deep down. When one was in pain, so were the rest. Maxie was about to ask the backstory of the woman knitting in a recliner to draw Mabel’s thoughts away from the tragedy that had occurred so recently when a man dressed in black fatigues walked in from the dining area, accompanied by two people whom even Maxie could sense were dangerous on an instinctive level.

There was something about this small group of three that stood apart from the rest. It wasn’t that they were all dressed in matching black outfits, though that didn’t help. It had nothing to do with their eyes scanning every single person and item in the room with one glance. It wasn’t even their bearing, which signified they were ready for any type of assault thrown their way. It had everything to do with the underlying sense they were predators unlike the townspeople around them.

“Kellen Truman, Dean Sealey, and Ann Moreau,” Mabel replied quietly as she watched them walk farther into the room. “We don’t know much about them, to tell you the truth. Kellen was here the morning before the eruption occurred, but the other two didn’t show up until much later.”

“Coincidence?” Maxie asked, loving a good mystery but not when it put her newly acquired son in the path of danger. She fought the instinctive urge to pick him up and take him away to safety, but that would be absurd, wouldn’t it? There were numerous people inside the main lodge and Truman had yet to pose a threat to any of them…at least that they knew. In fact, according to Berke, Truman had participated in the defense of the lodge and its residents more than once. “What’s with the bandage on Kellen’s hand?”

“That would be courtesy of Mason. It happened upon their introductions,” Mabel explained with a hint of worry in her voice. “It didn’t go so well.”

“I don’t think this is going to go so well either,” Maxie said quietly, referring to the multiple confrontations about to happen. Berke had stopped talking to Jarrett and the two men were intently watching Rat as he made his way toward them. “I think I’d like to meet them as well.”

“I don’t blame you for watching out for your man,” Mabel said, closely watching the exchange as well. She slowly pushed herself off of the couch before turning to give Maxie one more piece of advice. “I can’t put my finger on it, but Kellen is here for another reason altogether. I don’t think he means us harm and apparently neither does Ernie, or else Kellen wouldn’t be helping with the security around this place. I’m just reiterating what Ernie told me, and that is we shouldn’t let our guard down.”

Maxie nodded her appreciation for Mabel’s sound advice, ignoring the reference to Berke being her man and not saying she’d already gotten the same impression about Kellen. She waited until Mabel walked toward the kitchen before standing and then retrieving Jacob. He was getting tired and rubbing his eyes, even though he was thoroughly enjoying himself. The kids didn’t want him to go, but they were relatively appeased at the fact that she would bring him back after his nap.

Jacob instantly rested his head on Maxie’s shoulder as she closed the distance between the fireplace and where Berke had just greeted Rat…and in a not so pleasant tone. The animosity between the men in this room could literally be cut with a knife.

“…heard you had a run-in with someone that had to do with the ambush here,” Rat was saying as Maxie walked up beside Berke. He rested his hand on her lower back without taking his eyes off of the man in front of them. “Is he talking?”

“I believe Tank and Mav have it covered. Don’t you worry yourself with that,” Berke offered up, clearly not willing to discuss anything with Rat. “I’m sorry to hear about your son.”

Maxie was confused, but she remained quiet as she continued to listen to the conversation. She’d thought Rob Wicks’ son had been killed the other day, but maybe she’d been mistaken in listening to what was said. There was a genuine remorse in Berke’s tone that stated he was sincerely sorry for the man’s loss. The thought of a parent losing a child caused Maxie to squeeze Jacob a little tighter.

“He shouldn’t have done what he did,” Rat exclaimed, looking off to the side. The emotional toll was apparent, but it was evident he didn’t want anyone seeing his grief. He cleared his throat and slid his thumbs underneath his suspenders as he changed the subject to someone else. “Rob’s kid didn’t do anything but help defend this place. So we need to know everything about that man inside that bunker. That is where you’re keeping him, right?”

“As I said, that isn’t your concern,” Berke reiterated, his eyes already settling on Kellen Truman and his group as they were all pouring themselves coffee from the side table that Mabel kept fully stocked. Maxie could easily see that the items put out for people were things that could be spared in this type of setting. The main food was most likely locked up inside the kitchen pantry and the bunker for preservation. “Tank and Mav have it covered.”

Rat grimaced and then trained his eyes on Maxie and Jacob. Berke tensed, but Maxie instinctively extended an arm. She wasn’t about to make enemies this soon into her stay. She’d learned early on in her career that honey got her a lot further than vinegar.

“I’m Maxie Denikin.” She shook Rat’s hand before placing her palm flat on Jacob’s back. He’d become heavier and she didn’t have to look down at his angelic face to know that he was already asleep. “This is my son, Jacob.”

“Stanley Ratliff, but you can call me Rat,” he ordered gruffly. Had his gaze softened when he rested them on Jacob? Maxie wouldn’t be surprised. Children had a way of doing that to even the vilest of people. “Jarrett, how about you round up Randy so we can get a game of poker started?”

Maxie didn’t like the idea that Rat was able to stay here without contributing in some way. Jarrett and Randy were well in their mid to late eighties and it was understandable they couldn’t be outside in these elements. They helped where they could. But Rat? He could very well be put to good use, although what could he be trusted with? Maybe shoveling shit in the barn was appropriate. She’d figure out something, because it wasn’t fair to those who were pulling their weight to protect this place.

“I think Randy’s outside keeping Elijah company,” Jarrett replied, holding up his spit cup in that direction. “I’ll go see if he wants to play a hand or two.”

“Why don’t you head back to the bunker,” Berke murmured to her as both men went their separate ways. His eyes were glued to Truman and his two teammates, who were currently staring intently back at Berke. The tension had ratcheted higher and there wasn’t a chance in hell she was leaving him to deal with this himself. “Jacob—”

“Is fine,” Maxie finished for him, looking up to find his dark gaze had filled with concern. “You forget I can handle myself. Besides, Jacob is very adaptable and simply loves sleeping in my arms.”

“I know firsthand how well you can handle yourself,” Berke replied, his rich tone indicating he was talking about something more than just her physical ability. Maxie wasn’t sure how to comment on that when he reached out for Jacob. “As for this guy here, I don’t blame him one bit for wanting to sleep in your arms.”

There it was again. A double innuendo. Maxie would have replied with something snappy but the timing wasn’t quite right. It appeared Truman was done waiting for his turn in speaking with Berke. All three individuals were now standing before them as Berke settled Jacob into his arms.

“You must be Berke Daniels,” Kellen said, raising his coffee cup in acknowledgement with his uninjured hand. “This here is—”

“Berke and Truman,” Mav called out from the reception area, interrupting the terse introductions. “You two get in the office. There’s been some new developments.”