What Survives of Us (Colorado Chapters Book 1) (32 page)

She also needed to learn how to read a topographical map and use a compass, as well as learn some survival skills.  Scott had kept a few area maps here at the cabin, and she had brought his compass with her, but she didn’t know where to begin.  Gaining those skills was going to involve a visit to the Woodland Park community, in the hopes that someone there could teach her.

She was fairly certain she was the only person left on Rainbow Lake.  She thought there might be some people on Aspen Lake – she’d been down that way a couple of times and had seen a thin trail of smoke once – but she hadn’t found anyone.  As far as she knew, she was the only one left in the area, and she couldn’t teach herself the skills she needed.  She knew she should make the trip to Woodland Park sooner rather than later, but she hated to leave Macy for more than a couple of hours.

And if she was honest, there was more to it than that.  She’d thought about them, about Jack and Layla, Martin and that bizarre Verity, during her walks.  She wasn’t sure she could take their pity.  And while she’d liked Layla well enough, she wasn’t sure about Jack – if he started in on Macy’s death being God’s will, well, she didn’t know what she would do or say.  Just the thought made her heart pound with rage.  Martin, she’d understood – he was desperate to find his kids, and she got that.  Why he hadn’t left yet she couldn’t figure, but that was his business.

It was Verity that kept her away.  What would she say?  What wouldn’t she say?  A few months ago, Naomi would have dismissed her as a crackpot charlatan.  Now, she envied and feared her entrée to a world beyond what most of them could see.

They stopped to rest where the road veered back to the west.  From here, they could hike cross-country along the shore of Gem Lake, and on to Columbine Lake to the south, or they could circle around and cross Rainbow Dam before heading home.  Naomi opted for the lakeshore; she had to keep increasing her comfort level with stepping off the road.  She couldn’t get lost if she stuck to the lakeshore then retraced her steps.

Hades flushed a pair of quail, and, giving a great, athletic leap into the air, caught one.  His shocked expression made Naomi laugh out loud; then, the bird fluttered, and his hunting instinct kicked in.  A crunch of his powerful jaws and it was over.  He dropped the bird on the ground, and Persephone joined him in sniffing it.  They hadn’t eaten a bird yet, and neither one seemed to know what to do with the feathers.  Naomi watched them poke and prod in confusion, then knelt down between them.

“Here.”  It was hard to touch the bird, still pliable and warm with life, but what wasn’t hard these days?  She swallowed and persevered, holding the bird with one hand and pulling a handful of feathers free from its breast with the other.  She kept at it until she’d cleared a small patch of breast down to the skin, then put the bird back down between the dogs.  “Now you try.”

She sent them both a mental image of pulling the feathers out with their teeth, and Persephone was the first to respond.  She fell to the task with bloodthirsty enthusiasm, and was rewarded with the first bite of warm, raw quail.  Hades whined softly, and looked up at her. 
Hungry
.

“Well, get in there, silly.  It’s your bird.”  She stroked his head, pictured him gently nudging Persephone aside, and that’s just what he did.  She left them to work it out and wandered to the far side of the clearing.

Her communication with the animals didn’t feel strange or surprising anymore.  It was a part of her now, like breathing, or her sense of smell, or sight.  She reached out and brushed against Ares’ awareness – he came and went as he pleased, and had slipped out early this morning to hunt.  She picked up an impression of dozing in the sun back at the cabin, along with a distinct
leave me alone
sensation that lifted her lips in amusement.

A flash of blue at the base of a pile of boulders caught her eye, and she hurried over to kneel beside a clump of delicate wildflowers.  “Colorado Blue Columbine!  We don’t have this one yet – Macy will be so tickled…”

She thudded over onto her hip, curling around the slicing pain in her heart.  God, how she hated the moments when she forgot.  And then remembered.  She keened softly, and didn’t fight the tears.  Her baby, her sweet girl.  Never to finish the pressed wildflower books they’d started together.  The list of things Macy would never do stretched on forever, to a grey, empty horizon.

Hades was there in an instant, pressing against her back, and Persephone nuzzled into her lap, daintily licking her muzzle clean of blood.  Naomi closed her eyes and absorbed the comfort they offered, rocking Persephone gently in her embrace while Hades leaned against her, shifting with the rhythm of her movements.

She let the tears run their course, then wiped her eyes and gently set Persephone back on the ground.  The little dog returned to worry at the bird, but Hades stayed beside her.  Before she stood up, she plucked two perfect blooms from the plant, one for her book, and one for Macy’s.  There was no reason she couldn’t finish it for her.

When the dogs finished with the quail, they headed back to the cabin where, sure enough, Ares was dozing in a shaft of sunshine.  Naomi hurried to Macy’s side, confirming that all was as it should be before she turned her attention to building the fire back up to a blaze.  She hadn’t needed to wrap a new sheet around Macy’s body in almost a week, and she knew the time had come to make a decision as to Macy’s final resting place.

She was no more inclined now than she had been before to dig a grave and bury her.  But she wanted the matter settled before she left to visit Woodland Park, a task she felt she should complete in the next day or two.  She pondered it that afternoon, as she set their Columbines to press and dry between sheets of wax paper in the giant old dictionary, and as she fixed herself a simple dinner of canned soup and fruit.  Finally, with the sun sinking towards the horizon, she made her decision.

The north bedroom where Piper usually slept was cool, and the air smelled stale when Naomi opened the door.  Macy had always coveted this room for her own, and it felt right, fitting, to be able to finally grant her wish.  Naomi didn’t allow herself to think as she made the bed up with fresh sheets and turned down the covers.  One of the secrets to surviving, she had learned, was to concentrate completely on the task at hand.  Life was now.  She couldn’t stand to imagine a lifetime without Macy, but she could tuck in this blanket and take the next breath.

Macy’s body was stiff and light when Naomi lifted her from the pallet in front of the fire.  The dogs trailed behind as she carried her baby to her new room and tucked her between the covers.  When she had Macy situated, she lit a hurricane lamp, then pulled a chair up to the side of the bed.  The dogs settled beside her, curled up on the rag rug that brightened the floor, Persephone snuggled in the curve of Hades’ big body.

“There you go, honey.  Tucked in all safe and sound.”  Naomi reached out to smooth Macy’s bright hair.  “I’ll stay here with you tonight.  I’ve got to go to Woodland Park tomorrow, and I wanted you settled before I go.”

She plaited Macy’s hair into a row of soft braids as she talked, telling her about the day, about the Columbines, about Hades’ first successful hunt.  When she ran out of things to say, she read aloud for a while.  She had read a Harry Potter book to Macy every summer since she turned seven, and they had just started
Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire.
  When her voice was reduced to a hoarse whisper and her eyes were drooping, she set the book aside, blew out the lamp, and leaned to rest her head beside Macy’s body on the bed.

Just for tonight, she told herself.  Tomorrow, she’d sleep in the master bed, but she needed this transition.  She had not
slept a single night without Macy beside her since the beginning of the plague.

In the dark silence of the cabin, she let her mind drift back to the time before, to the two friends she had known who had lost children.  Lara had lost a baby boy shortly after he was born, and Sandy’s daughter, a classmate of Piper’s, had committed suicide the summer before her freshman year of college.

Both times, Naomi had done what people do:  She’d made banana bread and lasagna, had shown up with cleaning supplies to run a load of laundry and keep the practical, day-to-day necessities of life going.  She had taken Lara for coffee, had gone for walks with Sandy, had listened and held their hands as they cried.  At the time, she’d felt like she was being a good friend.  Now, she knew she’d done something unforgivable:  She had told them that they would be okay.

There was no “okay.”  Not ever again.  She knew that now.  There was no return to the Naomi she used to be.  She felt like everything soft and feminine, everything frivolous or indulgent or weak had been burned away, leaving her with the thin, hard core of a woman she barely recognized.  Inside, she was mutilated, disfigured by an ugly, gaping wound she knew would never completely heal.

A soft thump on the bed startled her out of her thoughts.  Ares settled in against her head and shoulder to snuggle, and after a moment, he started to purr.  Naomi found a smile in the darkness, and focused on this moment.  The soft blanket under her cheek.  The faint whistling snore from Hades.  Ares’ contented purr.  And she slept.

She woke at dawn the next morning, stiff from slumping over so awkwardly, but otherwise rested.  She fed the dogs and put together a day pack with enough food and water to hold them
until the next day if necessary.  If all went well, she could drive down to Woodland Park and be there in under half an hour, but she no longer assumed things would go as she planned.  She loaded the dogs, checked once again that the door to Macy’s room was securely closed, locked the cabin, and they were off.

She kept her attention focused outward as they traveled,
feeling
for any threat or danger, detecting none.  Little had changed, she noted, as she entered the outskirts of the city.  Here and there she noticed a garden being cultivated.  She didn’t see any people, but she could
feel
eyes on them, and the curiosity that followed their passage.

In no time at all, she was pulling into the church parking lot.  She shut the engine off, listening to it tick as it cooled for a moment.  “No thinking,” she reminded herself, and hopped out of the SUV.  She let the dogs out of the back seat, quietly commanded them to “heel,” and headed for the front door.

It popped open when she was still 10 feet away, and Verity floated out, her grin broad and triumphant.  Martin was right behind her, his expression disgruntled.

“That is the last damn time I bet against you,” he said to Verity, loud enough for Naomi to hear.  “You cheat.”

“I do not cheat,” Verity sniffed.  “I’m just more conversant with the subtleties of Woo Woo.”  She took both of Naomi’s hands in hers by way of greeting.  “Martin and I both knew someone would be coming this morning.  I said it would be you.  Martin said no, it didn’t
feel
like you, not like he remembered.”  Verity squeezed her hands and spoke softly.  “But you’re not that person anymore, are you?”

“No.”  Naomi had dreaded this moment, but now that it was here, she had just one question.  And it wasn’t really a question; she knew the answer.  “They’ve moved on, haven’t they?  Both of them.”

“Yes.  They’re together in the Light.”

Naomi nodded but couldn’t speak.  She wouldn’t want it any other way, but the confirmation hurt just the same.  She felt alone and adrift; if she wasn’t a wife and mother, she had no idea who she was.  Hades leaned against her leg, and she leaned back, anchoring herself.  Verity shifted to her other side, looping her arm through Naomi’s and walking them towards the front door. 

“Jack and Layla will want to see you.  Layla refused to take sides, but I’m sure she thought I was right.”  This was said with a quick smirk over her shoulder at Martin.  “Jack, of course, would rather just pretend this stuff doesn’t exist – he only talks about it when you corner him.  And he’s got so many other things to worry about, it’s easy for him to avoid.”

“Well, aren’t you just a little sweetheart?” 

Naomi turned to find Martin gently scratching Persephone’s head between her ears.  As she watched, Persephone flopped over on her back, offering her fluffy tummy for rubbing.  Martin chuckled and glanced up at Naomi.  “Can I pick her up?”

“Sure.”  She watched as Martin scooped the little dog into the crook of his arm like a baby, rubbing her chest and tummy with gentle knuckles.  Intrigued, Naomi touched her senses to Persephone’s, noting her complete trust as well as the beginnings of adoration for this man she barely knew.  Hades, too, weighed in with
trust
, though he was considerably more reserved on the adoration part.

The inside of the church was humming with activity.  There were a lot more people here then when she had visited before, all of them milling around the lobby as if waiting for something.  Before she could ask what was going on, Jack strode to the front of the room.

“Thank you all for coming,” he said, looking around, making eye contact, nodding at people as he recognized them.  Even before his eyes reached her, Naomi could
feel
the strength of his persuasive charisma.  He might not want to discuss it, but his power had grown considerably since the last time she’d seen him.  When his eyes landed on her, she felt that power tenfold.

“Naomi.  It’s good to see you again.”  His eyes noted the dogs, searched for Macy, then returned to hers.  He placed a hand over his heart, and Naomi felt his compassion for her like a warm blanket wrapped around her shoulders.  He didn’t say a word about her loss, and she appreciated the privacy.  Instead he just said, simply, “Welcome.”