Read The Malefic Nation (Graham's Resolution Book 4) Online
Authors: A. R. Shaw
“Let’s get going,” McCann said. “Horses out first. Pull the trailer on, then we’ll reload them.”
In no time they were underway over the lake in the cool early night. Graham guarded the rear of the boat, rifle in hand, as the dam lights faded in the distance; he feared the beacons might be the last artificial light they might ever see, and he wanted the image burned into his memory. He knew that the creation of memories couldn’t be a conscious effort, but still he tried.
“We separated into cabins. I gave you guys one of the larger ones with the extra bedrooms,” Clarisse said with a tired smile. The day had been long, and they were all sweaty and tired despite the cool breeze. “The beds are made—with sheets and everything!” she said with wide-eyed surprise.
“Thanks. Which one are we in?” Graham asked, picking up on her enthusiasm.
“Number eight. Same rotation for watch, otherwise, we’ll meet up early at the office and get going.”
“Perfect. We’ll see you guys in the morning, then.” Graham waved to Clarisse and Dalton as he and McCann headed off to find cabin 8 at the end of the row along the boardwalk; their footfalls clumping noisily.
The idea of having a shower held almost as much appeal as getting to sleep in a proper bed. Having Tala sleep comfortably for once meant he wouldn’t have to worry as much about her or the baby during the night. He was scheduled for watch duty at two in the morning, but that was no problem; he’d pull his four hours and head back to bed and catch a little more sleep before they made their final trek up to Hope.
Ambient light from lanterns, flashlights, and woodstoves gleamed behind the thin curtains of each cabin as they explored their new luxury accommodations for the evening. Tents were an adventure, but having a solid floor under your feet meant security to most. And finally having a little quiet time alone with one’s family made this part of the trek a little easier. In the morning, they would again continue to Hope, recharged.
When McCann reached cabin 8, he did the most peculiar thing: he stopped and knocked. “Just open the door,” Graham said impatiently
Macy opened the door, smiling at both of them. “Welcome home,” she said, waving her arm in a gracious, sweeping gesture to beckon them in.
McCann stood in the doorway, taking it all in; his smile could not have been any wider. Graham clapped him on the back, and they walked into their home, for the night, together. Lamplight softly glowed, filling the space with warmth, and they found Tala standing over a woodstove warming a few cans of beans as Bang fed a few seasoned logs to the fire.
“We’ll have a warm dinner tonight, at least. We can’t let this wonderful heat go to waste,” she said.
Graham slipped his hands around Tala. She’d taken a shower and smelled of soap and shampoo, her hair damp and newly combed. He suddenly realized how much he loved her and that he was really too dirty to be holding her so close to him. “Excuse me. I’ll run off to the shower before I eat.”
“Yes. Marcy just got out. It’s only cold water, but it’s wonderful. Soap and shampoo are in there, and there’s a change of clean clothes for you too. McCann can go after you. The rest of us have had our turn.”
“McCann, keep watch out front,” Graham said.
“Sure, no problem.”
“The watch rotation is on,” Marcy said. “You can relax.”
Mark shook his head. “We’re
always
on watch, Marcy.”
“Where’s Sheriff?” Graham asked.
“He’s outside,” Macy said. “I’ll let him back in when he shows up. The other two stayed with Lucy. She’s bunking with Clarisse and Dalton, and Clarisse is tending to Frank.”
“That makes me feel better. I’m glad Lucy isn’t alone and having to deal with Frank’s injury on her own.” Tala said. “And how is Frank, anyway? Poor dog.”
“Clarisse set his broken leg and made a splint for him; she said he’d heal in time.”
As Graham entered the bathroom, it hit him that it was the first time he’d found himself completely alone in the past several days. Having his own group—his family—alone and under one roof made him feel more secure, but the uncertainty of what awaited them in the coming days lingered.
In the bathroom, Tala had placed a one-gallon bottle of water and secured an elastic headlamp around the base. The effect was a soft ambient glow that radiated through the water; just enough to see by. She didn’t trust the kids to have an oil lamp in the bathroom; too many accidents were possible. The woman was resourceful, he’d give her that. She was always coming up with smart solutions to everyday problems.
Graham ran his hands through his oily hair and over his beard and then began to scratch his neck. “You are one dirty somebitch,” he said to his reflection in Ennis’s voice. He still missed the man.
Stop it. Don’t go there
.
Then, he eyed the shower. In doubt he turned the knob, and to his surprise water began to trickle out.
I’ll be damned. Still can’t figure this one out.
In no time he was clean. Cold from the frigid water, but clean and dressed in fresh clothes. To live this life made you appreciate the simple things—clean clothes and bathing being high on that list. He flipped off the light after he emerged from the bathroom, and then McCann eagerly took his turn.
The smell of baked beans wafted throughout the cabin. “Man that smells so good,” Graham said to the group sitting in the front room.
“Tala found an unopened bottle of barbecue sauce in the kitchen cupboard,” Bang said, his eyes wide and excited.
Graham raised his eyebrows. “So, barbecue beans? Even better.” He sat down on the beige couch between the twins, who were silently zoning out at the fire within the woodstove. Mark halfheartedly stood guard at the window, watching the moon’s reflection on the rippled lake. Tala sat in a comfortable living room chair, and Bang was on the floor in front of her. Graham let out a loud sigh. The fire crackled and occasionally popped, and everyone sat in contemplation without speaking or even looking at one another, drifting into the safety of silence and appreciating these creature comforts.
Tala finally looked up at Graham, breaking his trance. When their eyes met she asked, “Hungry?”
He chuckled. “When am I
not
?”
Macy yawned loud and long. Mark, still staring out the window, reached for the door handle.
“What’s up?” Graham asked him.
“Sheriff. He’s wandering around, looking for us out there.” He opened the door and whistled low. Sheriff ran to the door, and in no time he’d settled down on the floor next to Bang, licking him in the radiant heat of the woodstove. He sniffed and then eyed the pot on the woodstove like Tala knew he would, and she said right off, “No.”
Sheriff averted his eyes from Tala but licked his chops.
“It’s okay, Sheriff. I’ve got something for you,” said Macy. “I found a few cans of actual dog food under the sink in the kitchen. I’ll give one to him now, and save the other two for Frank and Elsa.” She got up and called Sheriff into the kitchen as Bang followed her.
Soon all could hear the unmistakable sound of Sheriff enjoying an unusually hearty meal; Bang and Macy giggled at the sight of it. Soon they heard the water from McCann’s shower stop, and Tala stirred the beans in the pot while Marcy located several bowls and spoons; moments later they passed around heaping bowls of barbecue beans with a surprise side of saltine crackers.
“Look what else we found,” Macy said.
“Monopoly?” McCann said.
“Yeah. Let’s play!” she said.
“I’ll keep watch at the door. You guys go ahead and play,” Graham said.
He couldn’t get over this serene moment. They’d been through hell in the last several days. Scenes of it reran through his mind, torturing him day and night, and yet here they were, enjoying an evening in solace, having escaped with their lives. They were vigilant, of course, but so precarious was their position, so subject were they to death’s will. So close—and yet, they were alive.
With bowls full of beans and crackers, they settled the Monopoly game on the living room floor. Graham glanced at them between shoveling food into his mouth and keeping watch outside. They giggled and laughed, and soon Tala was yawning. It was contagious, and everyone else began to do the same. They never finished the game, but decided it was a tie and that Mark cheated; he was the designated banker, and they were convinced he’d slipped himself a few extra hundred. They wrapped it up, and the girls said good night and headed upstairs to a bedroom with Sheriff close behind. Bang and Mark were sleeping in the opposite room upstairs, and McCann had the couch in the living room. Graham and Tala cleaned up the dishes and then wandered into their own room, clean sheets and all.
Graham tried to be quiet as he snuck out of the bedroom at two o’clock. Tala slept so peacefully he didn’t want to wake her, yet the door creaked as he pulled it open.
“Graham?” Tala murmured.
“It’s okay. Go back to sleep. I’ve got watch duty,” he said. She rolled over and pulled the covers up to her shoulders. Graham closed the door and stepped out into the living room, put his boots on, and headed for the door as McCann snored loudly on the couch. He put his hand on the doorknob and suddenly McCann was upright with his rifle aimed at the front door—and Graham by extension. His eyes were glazed over, his sleep-tousled hair was a wild nest, and he had the look of a pissed-off and armed madman.
Graham’s hands shot into the air. “McCann! It’s just me! I’m on watch. See you later.” McCann fell back into the couch. Two things came to Graham’s mind:
Do not screw with McCann in sleep mode, and thank God he’s a hostile sleeper.
Once out in the night Graham wasn’t surprised to see his own breath on the wind. It was cold; the night’s low must have hit freezing. He quietly walked up the boardwalk to the dock, where Rick was stationed by the barge.
“Mornin’,” Graham said, nodding.
“Not for me . . . yet,” Rick said, wiping his tired eyes.
“Anything to report?” Graham asked while Rick handed him the radio and night vision goggles.
“No, not really. There was some shuffling in the woods earlier, but I figured it was deer. It’s hard to hear well over the rippling water, and sounds travel differently on a lake. I tried not to walk around too much on the pier to keep the noise level down so everyone could sleep. Keep watch on the highway as much as you can”—he pointed across the lake—“but I didn’t see a thing. Watch out for the moonlight’s reflection with the goggles, they blind you if you hit it just right. Sam is taking over for Clarisse right now at the back of the cabins; I just saw her head in. That’s it, I think. I’m toast. Good night.”
“’Night Rick. Sleep well.”
“I plan to,” he said, yawning as he headed back down the pier to his own temporary sanctuary and softly sheeted bed.
Graham raised the NVGs and checked the perimeter from his current position. He had two hours of watch, and somehow he doubted he’d get back to sleep.
They were pretty isolated here, with steep mountains on all sides. Farther up, at the north end of the lake, a lone road would lead the way out of the United States. In the morning they would again begin the process again, loading the vehicles one by one onto the barge and heading up the lake to that road. Then, hopefully, by tomorrow night they might find another place to sleep—or “tent it,” as Dalton would say.
The lake ripples splashing against the pillars of the dock seemed a hypnotic cadence, and Graham decided it was time for a walk. He kept his steps light and began traversing the boardwalk, heading first one way and then the other. Midway, he caught a glimpse of Sam’s headlamp at the back through the breezeway of the cabins. Graham nodded his own headlamp in salute, Sam nodded back, and the two of them resumed their watch.
It wasn’t until the solitude erupted into utter chaos that they talked again. One minute Graham was lost in thought, and the next thing he knew, all of the lights within each cabin, in every room, flashed on. Every cabin radio switched on to blare static noise at its highest volume, there was a cacophony of dogs barking, and everyone began spilling out of the cabins frightened, armed, and confused.
“What the hell is going on?” Rick yelled after it was clear no bullets were flying.
“It’s got to be a diversion,” Sam yelled back. “Let’s get everyone back in the cabins!”
“Go back inside, and turn everything off!” Graham yelled over the chaos. He glanced over to cabin 8 and saw his crew standing outside with Sheriff in the lead; McCann poised to shoot anything that moved.
Then Dalton, dressed only in his jeans but carrying his M14, began ushering folks inside to flip switches off. Moments later everything was silent again. Several watched from their windows, too jarred to go back to sleep.
“What do you think that was?” Rick asked as they huddled near the pier.
“Heck if I know,” Sam said, “it sure as hell wasn’t the jihadists. They prefer bullets over annoyance attacks.”
Graham’s heart still beat from the sudden rush of adrenaline. “It’s got to be that dam guy.”
“What damn guy?” Rick asked confused.
“Whoever’s at the dam, keeping things so clean; that’s no accident of caretaking. Someone is there keeping the spillway in check, cleaning up and maintaining things. Maybe there are generators or turbines still left from Ross Dam, and he’s linked electricity to the cabins from them. That would also explain why we have running water—the water pump must be on a separate circuit.” He shook his head. “Dammit, he’s probably inside that steel dam building, and he probably watched us.”
After a second of silence Rick said, “You sound a little bit paranoid, Graham.”