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Authors: Susan Kiernan-Lewis

Tags: #ireland, #war, #plague, #ya, #dystopian, #emp

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BOOK: Heading Home
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Iain bound Mike’s hands in front of him,
concentrating on the task and refusing to meet Mike’s eyes. The
morning air only heard the soft sounds of Fiona and Taffy’s weeping
as Iain turned to Declan and bound his hands, too.

“Fecking wog,” Cedric spat as Declan walked
in front of him.

Iain remounted and indicated that Mike and
Declan were to walk together behind his horse and in front of the
Kellys and Brian.

He forced himself not to look back at Gavin
or Aideen. If, God forbid, this really was the last time he saw
either of them, he didn’t want to remember the look of terror
imprinted on both their faces.

***

Caitlin stood by the empty stocks and
watched the men return. Annoyingly, it appeared that Mike and the
filthy knacker hadn’t put up any kind of fight. The two looked
boringly untouched as they sauntered into camp.

Iain hates that Pikey! And
he couldn’t find a reason to rearrange the bastard’s teeth?
And then there was her father. She looked at him
with disgust as he rode solemnly by her—
as
if he were a part of something momentous. The old tosser. If he
really cared about Ellen’s murder, Mike would be sporting a black
eye or limping at the very least.

As usual, it was all going to be up to
her.

“Hello, love, waiting for us?” Brian
appeared from behind Cedric. His face regarded her with eager hope.
Did the idiot really think she was out here waiting to greet
him?

“The men in camp wouldn’t mind me while you
were gone,” she said petulantly. “They said they don’t take orders
from me. So now I’d like you to order them for me before you do
anything else.”

She saw his face fall and his small, beady
little eyes flit from side to side as if worried someone might be
listening to their conversation.

Gawd! How could I have married such a
spineless worm?

Iain rode up to her and swung down from his
horse. Her heart beat a little faster to watch the muscles in his
arms as he flipped the reins over the animal’s neck to hold in his
hand.

“Iain,” she said to him in acknowledgement,
a smile edging at her lips. She didn’t care that Brian was staring
right at her—probably registering the fact that she was mentally
stripping Iain down to his knickers and not stopping there.

Iain put a hand to her chin and frowned.
“What happened here, then?” he asked gruffly. She pulled away from
him, her mood blackening immediately. The scratch still stung and
ruined all the work of dressing so pretty this morning.

As was its intention.

“It is the reason I needed men to act like
men and assist me,” she said, forcing her eyes to fill with tears.
Caitlin would need to make sure Iain saw how brave and injured she
was.

Because it was a sure thing his bitch wife
would be telling him her side of things fast enough.

She looked over Iain’s shoulder where Mike
waited patiently, his hands bound and clasped in front of him.

“Iain,” Brian said, haltingly. “Go ahead and
lock up the prisoners. I’ll be along directly.”

“Why can’t
you
do it?” she said to
Brian. “I need Iain to sort out these boggers in camp who think
they can ignore what I say.”

“Well, because Iain is the camp sheriff,”
Brian said patiently, a thinly veiled whine fluttering in his
voice, as he slid off his horse. “Excuse me, Cedric? Collect the
horses, please and take them to the stables. If there’s nobody
there, if you could untack them and rub them down, I would
appreciate it.”

Caitlin nearly laughed out loud at the
expression on Cedric’s face. He made a rude hand gesture to Brian’s
back and turned away, ignoring the request.

“Cedric? Did you hear me?”

“Never mind, Brian,” Iain
said. “I’ll see it done. But first let’s get the prisoners sorted
out.” He nodded to Caitlin, the message in his eyes direct and
clear:
find me and tell me what
happened.
He turned away, gesturing to
Mike and the gypsy to follow him.

“Now, my dear,” Brian said, still holding
the reins of his horse. “What was this about the men in camp not
minding you?”

Caitlin tore her eyes from Iain’s retreating
back to look at her husband. “Oh, never mind,” she said. “Go untack
your horse or something.” She turned to follow in the direction
that Iain had gone.

 

The sun was setting earlier and earlier,
proof that summer was racing away, taking with it the sunny
afternoons and easy evenings of plenty to eat. Fiona poured the
boiling water into the teapot. The leaves had been used and reused
but it was still better to hold a hot cup in your hands that
somewhat tasted of tea—than nothing at all.

Aideen came into the room and shut the
bedroom door behind her.

“She asleep then?” Fiona asked, setting a
mug down for Aideen on the table.

“Finally. Was that Gavin I heard? Did he
leave?”

Fiona sighed. “He’s just out walking. I
reminded him his da said no heroics and no jailbreaks.”

“I know he’s frustrated and scared.”

“As we all are.”

“What do you think will happen now?” Aideen
sat down heavily in the kitchen chair. Fiona knew how much she
loved Mike. Somehow it must be worse, she thought, loving and
worrying over someone who wasn’t really yours.

“I have no idea.” She massaged the small of
her back. “But Sarah would have an idea or two. Trust me on that. I
know you didn’t like her. But she was resourceful as hell.”

Aideen nodded and sighed. “I’m sure you miss
her.”

“It’s just, in a situation like this? She
was in her element.”

“How so?”

“As scared as she might be, when she saw a
thing needing doing, she didn’t worry about the consequences.”


You
really
think she could do something
if she were here? Something we’re not doing?”

“I do.”

“I think you’re just remembering her bigger
than she was.”


Maybe. When I first met
her, she’d lost both her husband and John and she convinced Mike to
go with her and attack a blood-thirsty pack of thirty men with just
them and two others.”

“She sounds persuasive.”

“And then? When Mike got hurt and couldn’t
go with her? She went anyway.”

“That’s all very impressive, but there is
nothing Sarah Woodson could do any differently than you or I are
doing, Fiona, were she here today.”

“I don’t know if that’s true,” Fi thought,
frowning.

“You’re not thinking of doing anything
crazy?”

“All I know, Aideen, is that Sarah wouldn’t
just sit here and wait for word that her brother and husband had
been killed by maniacs.”

“We don’t have a choice, Fi.”

“Why should I believe that when I know Sarah
wouldn’t?”

“Because you want to live to give birth to
that little one in there.”

Fi hesitated and put her hand on her
stomach. She looked at Aideen. “And what will I tell him when he
asks where his da is?”

 

***

“Don’t you even want to hear my side of
things?” Caitlin hissed at Iain from where they stood on the
perimeter of the north pasture. The edge of the woods was to their
backs where the camp—and anyone coming—could be easily seen.

“Did you or did ya not tell my wife I was
leaving her to be with you?”

Caitlin stopped. “And is that not true?”

“On what planet do you live
where you think it might be true? I’m
married
, Caitlin. Come to that, so
are you.”

“So what we have is nothing to you?”

“Oh, it’s something. Same as for you.
Horizontal recreation.”

Caitlin felt her anger building in her chest
as a rosy flush spread up from her neck to her face. “You have your
position in this camp because of me,” she said hotly.

“I have this position, as ya put it, because
Gilhooley can’t stand the thought of working with a Pikey.”

“I thought you and I might lead the camp
together.”

“You’re as crazy everyone says you are,
Caitlin,” Iain said, shaking his head. “I’m not even sure if I’m
staying in the camp.”

“What are you talking about? You have to
stay! What if…what if…” She looked wildly about them as if trying
to find the answer in the bushes and the trees. “What if something
were to happen to your wife? Would you want to stay then?”

Iain leaned over so close, Caitlin was sure
he was going to kiss her.

“If something happens to my wife, you crazy
bitch,” he snarled, his lips only inches away from her own. “I’ll
kill you with me bare hands and won’t wait for no fecking trial,
neither.” He roughly pushed her, rocking her back on her heels. She
fought not to fall as he abruptly turned and walked away.

She watched him go and ground her nails into
the palms of her hands in impotence and frustration. A burning
flush of humiliation crept up her neck to her face.

Bastard! He’ll pay for this and that bitch
wife of his, too. How about if your fecking kiddies are orphans,
Iain? How would that work for everyone?

 

22

 

Sarah closed the door to John’s room.
Telling him they were staying after all was absolutely the hardest
thing she ever had to do. And she had had to do some very hard
things in the last two years. He simply nodded and went back to
whatever he’d been doing on his laptop. Sarah could actually see
the wall come crashing down between them.

As she stood in the hallway she saw her
mother standing by her bedroom door, waiting for her. It was late
and her parents had retired hours earlier.

“You okay, Mom?”

Her mother looked every minute her seventy
years when the makeup was gone and the shape wear was replaced with
a sagging nightgown cinched in the middle by the belt of a favorite
robe. She looked frail and vulnerable. Sarah tried to imagine her
in the village in Wales where the people chose to kill their elders
rather than feed them. She felt a shiver go down both arms.

“A word, darling?”

Sarah wasn’t sure she had ever felt more
exhausted in her life. The two days of happiness-charged adrenalin
had pushed her further and longer than she could possibly have gone
on mere drugs or good intentions. But the comedown was a bitch.

“Sure, Mom.” Sarah moved to her own bedroom
and heard her mother’s soft tread behind her.

That afternoon when Sarah’s father delivered
the terrible news that she wouldn’t be able to travel back to
Ireland felt like years ago. How she had stumbled through dinner
and a mindless evening of TV until she could break the news to John
was beyond her. All through the relentless hours of waiting she
promised herself a good long cry in the privacy of her bedroom.

The fantasies of running into Mike’s open
arms dissolved like some taunting, treacherous nightmare where the
love of your life turns into a monster before your very eyes. It
had taken every ounce of courage and self-control she had not to
think of him, not to see his face, remember his laugh…

She sat on her bed, her shoulders slumped in
defeat, and waited for her mother to sit down next to her. She was
sure to come bearing the wisdom of the world for just this occasion
and Sarah needed to be sure and act as if it made a difference.

Her mother took her hand and Sarah braced
herself. “You know, darling, how much your father and I love
you.”

“I do, Mom.”

“And how we would do anything for you.”

“I know.”

Now it was her mother’s
turn to take in a long breath as if working up the courage to
continue. Curious now, Sarah turned her attention away from the
carpet beneath her feet, and to her mother’s face.
Were her fingers trembling?

“What is it, Mom?”

“You father wants what’s best for you.”

“I know.”

“And so do I,” her mother said quickly.
“But…”

Sarah forced herself to be patient. To wait
for it.

“But I also want you to be happy.”

Sarah felt the pulse in her throat begin to
beat in double time. And she couldn’t say why, but somehow she knew
something was coming. Something big.

“Maybe that is a mother’s special difference
in the way she loves,” her mother said, holding onto Sarah’s
hand.

“Mom, what is it?”

Her mother turned to look at her and said
firmly. “Your father’s information about the government closing all
travel is accurate,” she said. “But…”

“But?” It took everything
Sarah had not to stand up and shake the next words out of her
mother. “
But
?”

“But,” her mother said, her face glowing
with pain and sacrifice, “what he didn’t mention is that there is a
window. A small window. After which time there will be no travel
between the US and any other country for at least ten years. Maybe
more.”

Sarah stared at her mother
as if trying to comprehend what she was telling her. “You’re saying
intercontinental travel isn’t restricted
yet
.” Sarah said the words slowly to
make sure she understood.

“If you leave immediately you can go back,
but you won’t be able to return, Sarah,” her mother said. “Not for
at least ten years. Your father and I…” Her mother looked away.

We may not be alive when
you return
. The unspoken words filled the
air between them. Sarah pulled her hand away and drew her mother
into her arms and held her closely.

“I love you, Mom,” she whispered. “I love
you so much.”

“I know, dear. And that is
why I feel I can ask you, please,
not
to go. Your father’s way was to
keep the truth from you, but I knew once you found out you’d hate
us. I am begging you, Sarah, for John’s sake and for your father’s
and my sake, and yes, even yours…please don’t leave.”

BOOK: Heading Home
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