The Upheaval Page 15

  Everything that had happened in that living room had happened for a reason and that reason looked as if he was going to bolt out of the cabin at any second, or burst into tears. "There was a reason," Riley said John. His eyes slid to her and he nodded. "There was."

  Riley stepped closer to Victor as his gaze shot to the open doorway and he moved to the edge of the chair. His gaze went to Rochelle when she stepped closer with a bag of Twizzlers extended toward him. "Would you like one?" she asked.

  The boy stared at the bag before giving a small nod. Rochelle pulled a piece of licorice free and handed it to him. Riley had never seen anyone eat something so fast in her life as Victor shoved it into his mouth. He looked like a chipmunk as his cheeks puffed out and he chewed eagerly.

  "Everyone loves licorice," John said.

  Rochelle handed Victor another red candy stick and he shoved it into his mouth too. He chewed it eagerly but Mary Ellen waved Rochelle's hand away when she went to give him another. "Enough candy," Mary Ellen said kindly. "We have to find him something a little healthier to eat, he needs some nourishment. Do you know where you are?" she asked Victor.

  Victor glanced over them before shaking his head. His gaze focused on Riley over Mary Ellen's shoulder. Riley offered him a tremulous smile and he gave one in return. She started to approach him carefully again, she was a little anxious that she would scare him away but he remained where he was as he watched her approach.

  "Where are my mom and dad?" His voice was so tiny that Riley had to strain to hear it.

  "We don't know," she told him. "Most of us don't know where our parents are, not anymore."

  Tears continued to streak down his face as he looked around the room again. "The world isn't like you remember it," Mary Ellen said. "What is the last thing that you do remember, before being here?"

  Victor's frown deepened as he tried to recall his last memory. "I remember being in the car." His gaze went back to Riley. "I remember you in the car, and something funny tasting. And then I remember being here."

  He'd been starting to come out of the dark recesses of his sickness when she'd given him the fourth dose in the car, Riley realized. He may not have even required the last dose she'd just given him, but it didn't matter, he was with them now. "And before that? What do you remember from when you were at home?" Riley prodded.

  He shook his head. "Waking up. But not to my alarm or my mom, the house was shaking. My mom was crying and my dad decided to stay home from work. I think I had a fever…" his voice trailed off, his frown deepened but he didn't say anything more.

  Riley could sense the frustration and distress radiating from him as he looked at the group of strangers gathered around him again. He pushed back in the chair, drew his knobby knees against his chest and hugged them. "Are my mom and dad dead?" he asked.

  "We don't know sweetie," Mary Ellen said.

  "Can we find them?"

  Helplessness swirled through Riley; she didn't know how to answer that. How did anyone tell a child that he would most likely never see his loved ones again? She longed to try and comfort him but he was staring at all of them as if he were afraid they might try to eat him.

  "Not right now," Mary Ellen answered.

  "Later?" he squeaked.

  "There's no way to know what the future holds," Mary Ellen told him. They were such big words for someone so small but Riley realized they were the only words they could offer to him. They couldn't promise him anything, but to take away all possibility of hope would only traumatize him even more than he already was.

  "Here." Riley looked down as Al held out a can opener and a plastic spoon to her. When she frowned at him in confusion, he nodded toward the can still in her hand. "For Victor."

  She nodded and took the can opener from him. Adjusting the can, she pressed the opener against it and opened it up. She placed the top on the table and walked over to hand Victor the can of beans. He stared at it before looking up at her again. "It will taste just like beans," she promised him. "There's no medicine in this."

  "Why did I need medicine?" he inquired as he took the can from her.

  "You were sick."

  "Am I better now?"

  "Yes." She wondered if he was with them for good now, or would he retreat to his catatonic state and have to be constantly dosed with L-Dopa? The idea of him going back to that semi-comatose state terrified her; he had to stay with them. She didn't know how any of them would handle it if they lost Victor after believing he'd been saved. For him to come back to them, only to one day return to his catatonic state was a possibility so unbelievably cruel that she couldn't think about it.

  He watched her as he dug into the can of beans and began to shovel them into his mouth. "Slow down," Mary Ellen urged and rested her hand on his arm. "You'll make yourself sick."

  Victor turned his attention to Mary Ellen and nodded before fixating on the can again. Mary Ellen took the empty can away from him when he was done. "Are you still hungry?" Riley inquired.

  "A little," he mumbled.

  John stepped forward and handed him the bag of chips. "Those aren't healthy," Mary Ellen said.

  "I don't want to be sitting next to him if he eats another can of beans," John told her. "Besides, all we have is some peas, soup and corn which aren't that filling, or candy and other assorted junk food. He's been in a semi-coma for weeks; I don't think some chips are going to kill him."

  Mary Ellen didn't protest that as she nodded and sat back. "How old are you Victor?" Riley inquired.

  "How do you know my name?" he asked.

  "It was on one of your basketball trophies, in your room," Carl answered.

  "You were in my room?"

  "That's how we got your clothes," Riley told him.

  Victor frowned down at his clothes. "But you didn't see my parents?"

  "I'm sorry, no," Mary Ellen said.

  Victor's gaze ran over them again and then the cabin. "Eight." He is really small for his age, Riley realized. She'd believed him to be younger than that. "How do I know you're not all in some kind of weird cult or something and didn't kidnap me to kill me?"

  "We'd have better food if we were a cult, or at least some Kool-Aid," John replied.

  Carl shot him a look but Riley had to bite on her inner cheek to keep from laughing out loud. From the looks on most of the faces around her, they were doing the same. Victor, Rochelle and Freddie looked completely confused as they stared at the rest of them with questioning expressions. "It was this thing, years ago with a cult," Mary Ellen told them. "We're not a cult, we're just…"

  "Survivors," Donald supplied when Mary Ellen struggled for an answer.

  "Yeah survivors is a good name for what we are," Freddie agreed.

  "Survivors of what?" Victor asked.

  "We're not entirely sure yet. We just know that nothing is the same and you won't have to go to school again anytime soon," Riley told him.

  "That's good at least," Victor said as he dug into the bag of chips. "Can you tell me what happened?"

  "We can tell you what we know." Riley grabbed hold of a chair and pulled it over to sit before him.

  They all began to fill him in on the events of the past few weeks and where and how they had found him. They didn't go into detail about everything but by the time they were done, Victor must have decided they weren't a cult as he'd taken hold of Mary Ellen's hand.

  "I was one of these sick people?" Victor asked.

  "You were but you're doing much better now," Riley said eagerly, refusing to acknowledge the fact that he might backslide.

  "Do you think that's what happened to my parents?"

  "It's a good possibility," Al answered. "They wouldn't have left you behind if they were thinking clearly."

  "I don't think they would," Victor murmured.

  "They wouldn't," Riley assured him as she stifled a yawn. She was finding it increasingly difficult to keep her eyes open and Victor looked half-asleep as his eyelids drooped. She placed the bag of cheese puf
fs she'd been eating on the floor and rose to her feet. "I'm ready for some sleep."

  "I think that's a good idea," Al agreed. "We're all tired. There are some bunk beds in the bedroom," he said to Victor.

  Victor nodded but he glanced nervously around the room. "Rochelle why don't you take him in and show him," Mary Ellen suggested. "The kids can all sleep in the room by the kitchen, if that's ok?" she asked Claire.

  Claire nodded and squeezed Freddie's shoulder. "I think that's a good idea."

  Xander held up a sleeping bag in front of him and shook it before her. "I've staked out a place near the lake, for us."

  She smiled as she took hold of his hand, there was nowhere else she would rather sleep. She followed him outside with Carl, John, Donald and Josh. "I'll come wake you in a few hours for the watch," Carl told them as he lit a cigarette.

  "Sounds good," Xander said.

  Carl and John walked behind the cabin to keep watch through the night. Donald had a rifle resting against his shoulder as he and Josh strolled down the dirt drive toward the road. Xander led her around the group of boulders. He spread the sleeping bag out in a small hollow that would keep them sheltered from view. Tilting her head, she couldn't help but smile as she watched Xander. She admired the bunch and flex of the muscles in his shoulders and arms. When he was finished, he turned toward and held his hand out to her.

  Her sleepiness was forgotten as she took hold of his hand and settled onto the sleeping bag next to him. She knelt across from him with her hands on her thighs. He was in much the same position as his gaze ran over her. "Riley…"

  She rested her hand against his cheek and ran her fingers over the scruff that now lined his square jaw and cheeks. He'd been such an integral part of her life while growing up. A constant presence that she'd sometimes resented and hated but had always relied on. Even when he'd been teasing her and driving her nuts, she'd always known that he would be there for her. He'd become her rock through all of this; she didn't know what she would do if she lost him, but for now she was going to savor in his company and enjoy being with him. To live when so many others were dying.

  She kept her hand pressed against his cheek as she leaned forward to kiss him. His hand pressed against hers as his other one settled on her back. He brought her closer to him and held her tenderly. She felt the love he had for her in every tender kiss and touch. When he'd held the sleeping bag out to her, she knew this hadn't been his purpose, but it was what she desired more than anything else right now. She lost herself to the feel of him, to the sensation of his body against hers, and the brief reprieve from reality that he gave to her.

  When it was over, she lay staring out at the lake, with her head on her hands as she watched the moonlight shimmering across its serene surface. There was lingering discomfort in her body but this was the first time she'd felt truly at peace in weeks. The night sky was beautiful and clear again, they were some place they could make safe, and possibly make a new life, and she was in the arms of the man she loved.

  "Are you ok?" Xander inquired as he ran his fingers up and down her arm.

  She smiled as she rolled over to look at him. "Yes. Are you?"

  He grinned down at her before kissing her nose. "I'm better than that. I would have had the world end years ago if I'd known it would bring you to me."

  Laughter burst from her. "You're an ass."

  "So you've told me many, many times."

  "And I will tell you many more times I'm sure."

  "So am I." He kissed her cheek again when she rolled over to stare at the lake.

  "It's beautiful here," Riley said. "I believe we can find happiness here."

  "I hope you're right," he said as he pulled her against his chest.

  "I usually am."

  "Hardly," he snorted and nuzzled her ear. "We should probably get dressed before the others come back. John might enjoy the show a little too much."

  Riley giggled but she pulled away from him. She sat up and grabbed her bra and shirt from a nearby rock. "I doubt that."

  "I don't," Xander grumbled as he pulled his shirt over his head.

  She grinned at him. "But I only have eyes for you."

  He poked the end of her nose with his index finger. "You better."

  "I love you." She rested her hand against his cheek again and pulled him close for another kiss. "I always will."

  "I love you too. I always have."

  She finished dressing and curled up next to him again. The heavens hadn't opened and angels hadn't started singing when Victor had come to, but they may just have found their own piece of heaven within these mountains.

  The sound of the crickets, the gentle lapping of the water against the shore, and the warmth of the arm wrapped around her lulled her into her first undisturbed sleep in weeks.

  CHAPTER 16

  Carl,

  Over the following couple of weeks, they worked vigorously to get the cabin cleaned and a safe perimeter established. They made traps for small game animals and set up booby traps for the lethal humans in the area surrounding it. He had planned to dig a trench at least six feet deep in a circle around the entire cabin; unfortunately the rocky terrain of the ground had other plans. There were certain areas they'd managed to dig down at least six feet and about three feet across, but for the most part rocks or boulders had blocked their way. Almost all of the ditch around the cabin was at least three feet deep now. It wasn't deep enough to keep someone trapped in it but it was good enough to break an ankle, wrench a knee, or maybe even snap a leg.

  They'd also wound some fishing line through the trees and attached bottles, cans, hubcaps, and anything else that would make enough noise to alert them to the fact that someone was approaching the cabin. With that advanced notice, and then the trench to get through, Carl felt confident they would know if someone approached the cabin.

  It wasn't the best security system in the world but it was better than nothing, and far better than anything they'd had while they'd been on the move. Sometimes he almost considered the cabin as his home, but he'd lost one home already and he wasn't about to get attached to this one when they would probably have to run again.

  Carl rolled his shoulders and wiped the back of his forearm across his forehead. He rested his shovel against the side of the pit he'd been digging with John. His head was beginning to throb; it wasn't a normal headache, but a twinge in the area that the bullet had carved across his skull.

  He touched the gouge that had been torn across his scalp from the front to the back. There was no denying that he was lucky to be alive; he was made aware of that fact every time he looked in the mirror and saw the puckered pink skin on the side of his head. He wasn't sure if his hair would ever grow back over the scar, but the hair around it had gotten long enough to almost cover it.

  John stood on the other side of the four by four square, tossing dirt over his head as he worked on making the hole even deeper. Carl leaned against the dirt wall and lit a cigarette. He took his shovel and tossed it out of the hole that was now over his head. Even if they couldn't make a trench, they were trying to find some softer areas of ground to create good-sized holes in. He and John had been working on this one since yesterday morning, but it was deep enough now as far as he was concerned. They'd mostly completed it yesterday but they'd wanted to get it a little deeper before covering it up.

  "I think this is good," Carl told him.

  John glanced at him over his shoulder and nodded before tossing his shovel out of the hole too. Carl grabbed the plastic rungs of the stepladder they had uncovered in Al's shed. Some of the steps were chipped and the worn plastic shook beneath him as he climbed. He'd be amazed if it lasted another week, but it was doing a good job of getting them in and out of the pits for now.

  Carl waited for John to climb out of the hole before grabbing the ladder and removing it. Josh looked up from the rock he'd perched on to keep watch. Over the past couple of days, they had each taken turns at having a break and keeping watch in order
to make sure that no one approached while the others were inside of the pits. Josh had assumed the watch a half an hour ago from Donald.

  Carl stepped around the assorted rocks they'd had to remove from the hole in order to dig. They had scattered the rocks haphazardly around the area. He walked over to another pit about fifteen feet away from his. A shovelful of dirt being flung out of the hole almost hit him in the leg as he stepped up to it. Xander and Donald stopped digging when his shadow fell over them; they shaded their eyes against the sun to look up at him.

  "You ready to call it quits?" he asked them.

  "Beyond ready," Xander said and tossed his shovel out of the hole. He grabbed hold of the rope they'd tied to a tree and swiftly pulled himself out of the hole with his hands and feet. Donald rapidly followed behind him and wiped his hands on his jeans when he reached the top.

  Carl turned away, grabbed a bottle of water from the cluster nestled by some boulders and sat on one of the smaller rocks. Twisting the cap off, he took a swallow of water as the others gathered around him. They still had to cover the holes up, but he needed a break first. He lit another cigarette and accepted the granola bar that John handed to him.

  They'd managed to catch half a dozen rabbits, some squirrels, and shoot a few of deer over the weeks but food supplies were running low and they were going to have to go somewhere outside of this area for those supplies. He had hiked over to the cabin next door on the day after they'd arrived here. There hadn't been much to discover there but he'd found two shovels, two ax's, a mattock, and a crowbar. He would have loved a pickaxe too for some of the rocks, but beggars couldn't be choosers.

  There hadn't been any food or water in the cabin but there had been some bedding and a kerosene heater that John had almost kissed when he spotted it. It didn't matter that they had no kerosene for it, that heater had been John's prized possession as he'd proudly carried it back to the cabin.