ALONG THE ENDLESS RIVER

The frozen grass crunched under Jacob’s boots as he crossed the narrow field from the barn to the farmhouse. Maya was ahead , and he could see her breath rising up in wispy clouds. Her hair hung out in a kinky black tangle from beneath her toboggan, and it bounced against the oversized puffy coat she was wearing. He could see the film of frost on the barrel of his rifle as he held it steady in front of him, his finger resting just off of the trigger. The wind bit at his face with tiny, invisible teeth and his nostrils burned from the constant intake of freezing air. Occasionally the gusts would whirl across the field, swirling into each other and birthing an eerie ghost howl that made him even more on edge than he already was.

The Johnson house was probably sixty years old, two stories high with white siding. It had a little, covered porch that rose up three steps to the front door. Whether they had been the “Johnsons”, nobody knew anymore. But that is the name his father had given them, along with naming the other farms and houses in the area around the compound. The “Johnsons”, the “Greens”, the “Smiths”, the “Browns”. His father was big on simple names and colors, and he avoided using the same first letter twice in the naming process. It made it easier as the mapped the area, to only have to put an ‘S’ on the map vs writing out “Smith”.

Jacob had been in the “Johnson” house a couple of times, but never to take anything before. Uncle RJ’s cabin had been so well stocked that they had never really needed to raid homes. And, his mom had always felt strongly against it. This past year, she thought God was watching everything, and stealing without need was a grave offense. But things had changed, there were more people this winter and there was a need for blankets, coats, anything to continue keeping warm. The Johnson house was a walk-able distance, so when they drew up the plan to scavenge supplies, Jacob and Maya drew it.

As they approached the front porch stoop, Jacob whistled softly to Maya. She paused, turning back and watching him over her left shoulder. He scanned everything around and behind him, looking for footprints in the frozen grass, any sign of disturbance. If there were anyone around, they would be inside the house, shielding from the cold. Jacob didn’t want an easy walk to grab blankets and towels to turn into an ambush. Any time you were away from the group, you had to be on guard.

He pulled up next to Maya, lowering his rifle, and sliding around on its strap, snug against his back. He reached down with his right hand and drew his 9mm. Walking ahead of Maya, he ascended the porch steps and examined the door. First he drew open the storm door, carefully avoiding the creaking of its hinges. He looked up at the front door and could see the two strips of scotch tape in place along its top edge where they had left them a month ago. His heartbeat relaxed a little, everything appeared in its place. He opened the front door and pulled the pistol up high, leading with it as he stepped softly over the threshold. He looked around the foyer, then looked back and motioned for Maya to follow him inside.

After locking the front door behind them, they scoured the first floor and basement, making sure no one was lurking on the lower levels. Jacob led the search with his gun drawn, and soon Maya was behind him holding a frying pan she grabbed in the kitchen. He knew this was just pre-cautionary measure. The tape on the door had not been disturbed and the other windows and doors had been locked. But, there was no rush- no need to be anything other than too careful. So, one by one, they made their way through the quiet rooms, the beams of sunlight from the windows cutting in and out, illuminating the dust that hung in the air.

Upstairs they padded as lightly as they could on the old wood floors in their heavy boots. The straight hallway made for a quick sweep of the rooms, and once they were sure all were empty, they began to open drawers and closets, searching for their quarry. Jacob looked through the master bedroom at the end of the hall, while Maya worked in the bedroom one door down. Silence was the unwritten rule, as both knew what they needed and that they had to get in and out as quickly and quietly as they could. He found two woven quilts in a trunk at the foot of the bed, and the spread and sheets on the bed itself were in good shape. He had brought along a draw-string canvas duffel, and he started stuffing the quilts in first, pressing down hard to smash them in, leaving as much room as possible in the bag.

The floor creaked behind him as he reached for the bedspread. He wheeled to find Maya standing three feet from him, clutching a roll of blankets she had found in the other bedroom. She was giving him a look that he understood and he let go of the bedspread, smoothing it back down with his hand. To this point, they had only been able to steal away in the woods or once in the Bronco. Today, the opportunity for something totally new was there for the taking. It was dangerous, but looking at her eager gaze, he thought she might care even less about the risk than he did.

She put the rolled blankets down at the same time that he let go of the duffel and before he could whisper, they were kissing, both fumbling at the zippers of the jackets. His made a loud zipping sound, and Maya pressed a playful finger up between their lips, reminding him to be quiet. She was smiling behind that finger he could feel, her teeth rubbing smooth against his lips before he could taste her tongue in his mouth again. Quickly she had slid her jeans down and as his jacket fell to the floor, she worked on his belt, loosening it , then unbuttoning his jeans quickly, and tugging them form his waist with both hands. The skin of their bare thighs pressed together, and even though their flesh of their legs was cold, their was a rising heat wafting down from their groins, pushing warm blood into the center of their bodies.

Her hand was surprisingly warm, perhaps from the gloves, as she reached inside his underwear and gripped him. He felt like he might break through the skin, so much pressure making him as hard a gun barrel. They pivoted and Maya leaned back on the bed, releasing him and sliding down her panties as he eased down on top of her. Jacob’s boot-tips stubbed against the hardwood floor with a thump, and Maya giggled nervously at the noise, just before he entered her, causing her to gasp mid-giggle. The heat and wetness sent a jolt of electricity through him as he pressed into her hard, burying himself until their pelvic bones pressed hard against each other beneath the skin. She felt incredible and Jacob made fistfuls of the bedspread, grasping for control as he drew out and back into her. Maya whimpered and breathed hard, gripping the back of his neck with her right hand, urging him on. He began pumping his hips, feeling her loosen beneath him, the muscles of her legs un-stiffening and her sex spreading around him as they set their rhythm.

They were joined, moving together as the world began to drift away, the friction between them becoming impenetrable and unbearable. Outside the window, there was a low rumble of thunder and it seemed linked to the storm that was building inside him, threatening to burst with every thrust. The thunder came again and Maya moaned underneath him, her eyes closed as she arched her back. But, suddenly, something made him stop, and he went motionless inside her, frozen by a feeling of terrible recognition.

She opened her eyes beneath him, “Whats wrong?” she whispered breathlessly.

He stared passed her, past her tongue running across her lips, past her beautiful, pleading eyes. He was lost in space, his mind spinning, trying to remember.

Not a storm. Not thunder. Motorcycles!

Jacob leapt off of her and off of the bed, yanking his pants up over his erection as he landed on the bedroom floor. Stunned, Maya sat up on the bed, her mouth open. The picture of her there- naked from the waist down, her smooth legs the color of café au lait, the black hair between her thighs glistening wet- burned into his mind as he grabbed his rifle from the floor, threw it to her, and bolted into the hall.

“Take the gun, get dressed and get in the closet,” he barked in a low tone ,already half way out of the room.

“Jake!“, she whispered frantically, “Jake!” again a little louder as he flew down the hallway. His hands were braced the wall as leapt down the stairs in a single, extended bound. He pressed himself against the wall beside the front door, drawing out his 9mm as he peered out of the porch window.

The sounds drew closer and Jacob as three bikes pulled into the drive to the house. Behind him, he heard Maya on the stairs, her voice frantic as she cried out in a whisper.

“What’s going on?!!”

Jacob turned to her, stepping forward so he could meet her eyes. She was standing, dressed now, looking terrified and gripping the rifle he gave her with both hands.

“Go up and get into that closet upstairs. Its those bikers, three of them. Go now.”

His voice was firm and he held her gaze as he spoke. She nodded and turned back up the stairs, and Jacob wheeled back to his spot beside the porch window.

The bikes were getting closer to the house now, and he suddenly realized that surprise and elevation were his only chance. The bikers were still too far away to make out clearly, save their hooded heads and masked faces. But, Jacob knew that beneath those cold weather shrouds were hollow eyes, natty beards, and mouths full of rotted teeth. These were the faces of the killers that had hunted them since April.

He sprinted up the stairs and into the master bedroom. “Maya, its me, I need the rifle”

He was just finishing announcing himself as he opened the closet, seeing her crouching there on the floor, tears streaming down her cheeks. He dropped down to a knee and wrapped his hand around the back of her head. She was scared, her lips trembling now, and he felt a protective rage rising inside him as he ran his fingers thru her soft, curled hair.

“We are going to be OK, I will get us out of here. Just stay in here, get under these blankets and don’t make a sound.”

She was breathing hard, fighting the urge to cry out. He knew and he pressed his forehead against hers.

“Maya. I am getting us out of here. Listen for me.”

He kissed her forehead as he rose up, taking the rifle from her hands. She moved quickly, grabbing the blankets and the duffle as he ripped their bedspread off the bed. She slid back into the closet and he covered her quickly, shutting the doors in silence. He could hear the bike engines rumbling outside as he crept of the room, and down the hall toward the first bedroom on the right-hand side.

The view out of bedroom window was obscured by curtains, but Jacob knew that it looked down on the gravel parking area beside the house. When they had walked in from the woods, they had crossed in front of that parking area, likely leaving some footprints in the frozen grass. If the bikers stopped to investigate the house, the investigation would likely move through this spot and then the hunt would be on.

Jacob reached up and slid the wind lock over, emitting a low pop as it sprung free. He tested the window with his free hand, and surprisingly, it lifted easily. Before opening it, he drew back the curtains form the bottom, pulling their lower thirds back and using ties that slid into hooks fastened in the wall. He then raised the window, creating a space of maybe four inches. He knelt down, drawing a sight-line with the rifle and checking his shooting zone.

He felt comfortable with the curtains holding still so he lifted the window another inch to give him an optimum position. The ties around the curtains were pinning them tight. If they ruffled in the wind, the motion might alert the bikers and cost him everything.

He pulled his shirt up over his mouth and nose, to ensure that none of his breath might escape the window, sending a telltale cloud out from the house. They would notice the open window, but not as immediately as they would a flapping curtain or puff of steam. And it would be that 3-4 seconds that it would take them to survey the side of the house that he would need to get off two shots and make an escape possible.

As he expected, the bikes pulled up the gravel drive and around on the side of the house where the stand-alone garage and parking area were. The bikes then continued around on the circular drive, making a pass across the front of the house before circling back up to their original path of entry and slowing to a stop in the parking area.

Three bikes. All had guns visible, holstered or strapped to their sides besides their riders’ legs. For the first time, he noticed the markings on the motorcycles. On the gas tank, fenders- there were crude symbols stenciled in black, single handprints in white paint. No skulls adorned these bikes, but one did have what looked like a weathered, filthy Elmo doll chained to its handlebars. Another had twin red flags flapping behind it, tethered to stiff, steel spokes that poked up a few feet high from behind its rider’s seat.

The first rider cut his engine and stepped off, unsheathing a shotgun from the side of his bike while his companions drew the engines down. The dismounted rider was turning toward the house now, making an appraisal behind ski-mask and sunglasses, scanning the area left to right. A second rider, bare face and heavily bearded, stepped off his bike and said something to the only one left seated on his bike, unfastening an assault rifle from its holster as he did. Jacob’s eyes darted from target to target, the first rider now glancing up towards the window, the second rider checking his rifle-a red rag knotted around the upper part of his right jacket sleeve. Jacob’s finger slid onto the trigger instinctively- the time was now.

The two standing riders fell quickly. Jacob caught the first rider directly in the center of the ski-mask, blowing his brains out of the back of his head, killing him instantly. Just as his father had taught him, he exhaled with the pull of the trigger, allowing him to slide his sights to the next target and squeeze again without any rise of the barrel. The second shot caught the bearded rider in the throat, launching a burst of red spray into the frozen air. Steam poured from the dying man’s mouth and open neck as he slumped left, then fell backwards, dropping his assault rifle as the life left his body.

The third rider, a heavy man with his mouth and nose covered under a steel helmet and riding goggles, fell off of his motorcycle in shock, crawling behind it on all fours seeking cover. Jacob put a round into the man’s ankle just before he disappeared behind the bike, and the rider screamed in pain. Immediately Jacob fired again into the center of the bike, then slid to his right, improving his angle to fire on the man who was now curled behind the motorcycle, twisting in pain and seemingly fumbling for something in one of the bike’s saddlebags. Jacob raised the window a little further and hung his upper body out, pressing it all the way against the right side frame. His re-positioning put an arm and hands into his sights, and Jacob could see the revolver gleam through his scope just before he fired again, blowing the man’s hand that held it apart and sending the pistol scattering across the gravel.

The man was screaming now and had pulled himself into the fetal position behind his bike. He was begging for mercy, begging for Jacob to stop shooting. In the chaos of the man’s screams, Jacob sharpened mind flipped through scenarios, contemplating his next move as his heart hammered in his chest. He called for Maya, low but loud enough. He called again, and he could hear the closet door opening in the bedroom down the hall, in between the rider’s continued cries. In a moment, Maya was behind him. He glanced back to see her covering her mouth with a trembling hand as she looked past him, out the window and at the bodies below.

Jacob motioned for her to come kneel beside him. As she did, he slid behind her, helping to balance the trained rifle into her hands.

“Keep it on that motorcycle. Fire a shot 5 seconds after I walk away. 5 Seconds. If the man behind it moves, shoot him.”

Her eyes were huge with fear, but she nodded along at his instructions. Maya then steadied the rifle against her shoulder and aimed just as he had shown her. Jacob stood up behind her and drew his handgun.

“5 seconds. Go.“, he said and he bolted back out of the bedroom, preparing to repeat his stair leap from moments before. The countdown in his mind began. 5. 4.

Although he braced the wall with his free hand as before, he landed his bound down the stairs unevenly this time, though, and he felt his right ankle roll as he came down. There was a bark of pain from the ankle and he hit the floor in a heap. 3.

With a searing ache now shooting up his lower leg, he popped to his feet, powered by adrenaline. 2. He flipped the lock, pulled the front door open, and threw the storm door aside as he limp-raced onto the porch. 1. He had just rounded the corner of the porch when the rifle went off, a shot slamming into the ground in front of the motorcycle. The man on the ground screamed again, pleading for his life, unaware that Jacob was almost on top of him.

The rider was heavy-set, his brown Carhartt pants dirty, and soaked dark from the wound in his leg. He was bunched into the smallest ball he could muster, and Jacob could see him clutching his shattered hand, bright red blood covering his grip and the ground. The gravel crunched beneath Jacob’s boots and the man turned his head toward him, his nose and mouth no longer covered up, snot pouring from his nostrils in a foam that lathered his red beard stubble.

“Oh fuck! Please ! Please!” ,

The man was trying to slide away from Jacob, clutching the bloody stump of his hand and trying to push his fat body along the ground with his one good leg. Jacob lifted his left hand up and raised his flattened palm toward the window where Maya was stationed, keeping the 9mm on the wounded man with his other hand as he did so. Jacob glanced to the window quickly and could see Maya lift her head from behind the rifles’ scope, her black hair bouncing a little as she did.

The rider’s goggles followed Jacob’s eyes toward the window, but from his position on the ground, his view was blocked by the motorcycle. Jacob moved his left hand back into position below his right, training the 9mm directly on the man’s forehead, freezing the wounded rider as he did. The man was on his back now, half propped on his elbows, his hands clutched together in a bloody, red mess on his chest.

“Please man. Don’t kill me. Oh please. Don’t fucking kill me.” The rider’s voice was wheezy with pain, his face and chin thick with spit and mucus, his breath billowing out in steamy puffs.

Jacob stood over him, two feet to his right, above his shins.

“Where did you come from?“, Jacob barked at the man, “Answer me if you want to live. No LIES!.”

Tears were streaming out from behind the man’s ski goggles as he fought back the pain to speak.

“Lexington. Out of Lexington. New Circle Road. ”

" How many of you? How many besides the three here?”

The man wailed again in pain, sobbing through profanities as he clutched harder at his mangled hand.

“We’ve got two hundred in the fold. We were just out scouting.”

“Scouting for what?” Jacob demanded.

The man was rocking back and forth, almost singing his profanities. .

“For people. Just for people, oh fuck....help me man, I won’t say anything. I’ll disappear. Just fucking....”

“The fold, in Lexington, on New Circle. Where?! “, Jacob demanded, cutting him off.

The man howled again in pain. “The Station man!…The Station Inn. It’s the compound man. Oh God, I need help man, I have to get this hand tied. FUCK!!”

The fat rider’s head was arched back in agony, and Jacob looked at the motorcycle’s bulging saddlebags. There had to be something in there. He could get the bleeding stopped, and then get this flabby bastard to tell him everything he knew. But, Maya would have to come outside. He thought about it.

“I’ll help you, but you are going to answer all of my questions, understand?”

“Shit yes. Anything man, just let me live. In my bags there, there’s a rope in there you could tie my...“, the man’s voice broke off as he groaned again, “...my leg and and my hand. You shot me , fuck, you fucker you shot me.”

Jacob moved quickly and opened the bag, rummaging through it with his left hand while keeping his gun on the rider with his right. The man was as dangerous a beached whale, no threat, but Jacob had seen people do incredible things when empowered by fear. He was taking no chances.

His fingers found a cord of rope and he pulled it from the saddlebag, a length of maybe twelve feet, a quarter inch thick. He stood back over the man, the rope dangling in his hand. The rider sat in silent anticipation, his goggles moving from the rope to Jake’s eyes.

“This group. You said two hundred? Where did you come from? ”

The man groaned again. “Urrrrhh. Shit man, I”ll tell you everything. Just ....”

“You’ll tell me now. Where did you come from?“, Jacob barked, cutting him off again.

The man’s wheezing breath was faster and audible now, his pain was tremendous.

“Some started in Texas and came across Arkansas, then into Tennessee. Some was here already. Fuck man, the rope. Cmon, I’m bleeding!!”

Jacob’s mind was on such high alert that his thoughts came in high definition, clear and illuminated. He could barely feel the throb from his ankle now, his mind so immersed in the moment. He glanced up at Maya intending to motion for her to come down. He intended to, but then realized that he could not. He dropped the rope and leveled the 9mm at the man’s face. Before the rider could get a protest out of his terrified mouth, Jacob shot him through the right lens of his ski goggles. The painful profanity came to a sudden silence as the dark blood ran down the dead man’s face from behind the shattered lens.

They moved the bodies and two of the motorcycles into the barn. It was a musty, aluminum sided housing that held old farm equipment- the gas cans and useful things, all long since taken. Jacob had to hobble around, hopping almost on one foot as he worked, rolling the tractor back to the shed’s rear wall to make room. It took him nearly forty minutes to get everything into the barn, and Maya had sniffled the whole time, holding the feet of the dead men to help him move them. Scared and shaken, she was still tougher than she looked, and stronger than Mallory or his mother.

There were long red smears on the frozen ground where the bodies had rubbed along the ground in transit, but Jacob would leave that to chance. A rain or snowmelt would likely rinse some of it clean.

They went in to the house quickly to close it up and retrieve the blankets. Few words were spoken between them, and Maya ran the stairs, saving Jacob and his ankle from the agony of climbing the steps. Once back outside, Jacob slung the canvas duffle behind the bike’s handle bars and turned to Maya , making sure her coat was zipped tight, her hat on snug. She looked into his eyes as he did, and he could see the need that was there- the need to keep her safe from the darkness that was always closing in. He knew she loved him, and even more, she needed him and would stay with him. They were bound together in the madness of this new world, and in that bond, her life was his sacred trust. What had happened here was the only thing that could have happened, it was the only way. It was the one choice he had, and there was no way he would think twice about it. About the men who died before they knew what had happened. About the fat man who had blown his last breath, right in Jacob’s face. These were the first men he had ever killed, and strangely, he felt no weight from what he had just done. It was simply the way that it was.

The world had different rules now. Right and Wrong were luxuries that could no longer be afforded. His mother would disagree, and she would be crushed to know how he truly felt. She saw the Word of the Bible as the only thing they had left. But to Jacob, the Bible was made for another time and place. For a world that wasn’t broken. There was no room for laws, or justice, or faith or hope any more. There was only room to survive, and to keep those you loved alive as long as you could. And ,he would not let them down. Not Maya, Mallory, his mother, his father. Not anyone in the group, their new family in this broken, brutal world.

His father had once told him that a family was like a hand, and the members of the family were the fingers. They all worked together to hold on to what was important. And, his father had said, when the time came to defend what mattered, they came together to form a fist. This was the only law he believed anymore. It was the only one that made any sense.

He helped Maya onto the bike and climbed on board in front of her. They had taken the dirt bike out together before, so she was comfortable holding him around the waist and settling in behind him. The engine rumbled to life beneath them and he rolled the bike back off the gravel and onto the circular drive. The cold wind was biting his face as he throttled the bike and took them down the long drive to the property’s entrance. The fat man had said there were 300 people in the ‘fold’. He had said they were out scouting. Jacob and his father had spent many nights expecting to hear the sounds of motorcycles in the darkness, after what had happened on the highway, and out on their hunting trip in the spring. But until today, it had been quiet. 300 people in the ‘fold’. It sounded almost like preacher-speak. It also sounded like an awful lot of bad men who would want them dead now more than ever.

Back at the cabin, dusk was setting in and Jacob’s mother took Talia and the kids down below to play games or read stories. Upstairs, Jacob was on the bed, sitting up with a pillow behind him and his swollen ankle propped up on a stack of books wrapped in a towel. His father, Mike, and Lara pulled up chairs, Maya sat at the foot of the bed, and Mallory bustled around, pouring small glasses of water for everyone to drink. He knew she couldn’t stay still when she was nervous.

“Jake, you said he mentioned people coming up from Texas in this ‘fold’? ” , his father asked , sitting in his chair with his right elbow propped on his high, his chin resting on his knuckles. Rodin’s Thinker.

“Yes, he said up from Texas through Arkansas and Tennessee.“, he answered.

There was a quiet moment as Jacob’s father turned the words over in his mind. They could hear the laughter from the children coming up from the basement, his mother’s voice animated for the little ones as she led them in some sing-along.

His father was thinking about Dennis. Marauders up from the South. This had been the fear all along.

“I think we knew this day would come. Maybe I was hoping that the group we ran into this summer had moved on. But, the Johnson property is too close, and if this patrol today was there- its only a matter of time before they find this place.” His father’s chin didn’t move from his Thinker’s pose as he spoke.

Mike was sitting, tattooed forearms folded across his chest. He was a serious looking guy to begin with, deep set eyes with perpetual bags that almost looked bruised. His thick jaw always seemed clenched, and right now it looked like he was biting through iron. He had been a Marine, learned to shoot and survive there, and the edge it had given him still held sway over his demeanor. Mike exhaled before he spoke.

“Paul, we have had the chance before to head back to Batesville. When our group didn’t circled back those folk just locked down like we all discussed. So- I think that’s still an option. We have the vehicles, we have the fuel.” Arms still crossed, Mike’s right hand drummed on his bicep as he looked to Jacob’s father for an answer.

“I don’t know if Batesville is the answer Mike. I know you say that supplies are on hand there and that space is not an issue. But maybe things have changed in six months. Maybe it isn’t best for us to go seeking other people right now.”

Mike bristled at this. “Well what do you suggest then professor? You think we should just ride on out into the morning light and hope we find the land of milk and honey? What do you think is out there?”

The girls were quiet as the tension rose. Mallory was now looking for something on the bookshelf, while Maya kept her eyes fixed on the floor, Lara keeping hers on some point out the window.

“I do think we can find a warmer base climate for one. Jacob and Maya went into harm’s way looking for blankets today, for a way to keep warm. It seems to me that Batesville is the wrong direction if we are seeking a warmer place. ”

“So you want to send us all out onto the goddamn road in hopes of warmer weather? I told you Batesville has everything we need!”

Jacob’s father’s eyes smiled at this, defusing the tension with an easy confidence. They had all grown used to Mike’s high-strung way of communicating. It was more amusing now than alarming, because they knew he meant well.

“Mike, I am only saying that if we leave this place, we are doing so out of the absolute need to relocate. With the kids, I think it would be best to relocate somewhere where we do not have to worry about keeping them warm. I don’t want to put us on the road for any reason- but I think the time has come. I don’t think we have that choice.”

Lara shifted her gaze from the window to Jacob’s father. She had taken easily to the group and respected Jacob’s father as the leader of their band. With her balanced, angular features and big dark eyes, she had been a strikingly beautiful woman before everything happened- the trophy wife of some big shot. Jacob had her talk about her life in Chicago with Mallory, and it was easy to imagine her in designer workout clothes, driving her Range Rover to some yoga class. Now, that manicured beauty hid underneath the wear and grime of living amongst the ruins.

“What about St Simon’s? Have we just given up on that?“, she asked.

“I think its worth a discussion.“, his father answered.

There was a coolness that had become more pronounced in his father since everything had happened. It was a quiet certainty in word and action that had seemed to grow as the world around them fell apart. Watching his father build the plan that would shape their futures, Jacob knew now that this was who his father was meant to be. Gone were the years of the old world burdening him, the stress, the drinking. He had been born again somehow in the chaos, and here he stood now, the man he truly was. It made Jacob proud to be his son.

Behind him, Jacob realized that Mallory hadn’t been just fidgeting as she produced a map from the bookshelf and spread it out on the table in the middle of the room. Her father turned to it and lowered his face toward the table to get a better look, picking up some route with his finger as he did.

“St.Simon’s is quite a ride from here as you all know...“, he said, still looking at the map, his finger tapping on a point of the route.

“...but, there are major highways we can use and we can cut a wide berth of Lexington to start out. The unknown here is what lies beyond, and what conditions the highways are in. The island offers us the best shot long-term, but it is winter and a blown tire or disabled vehicle could be disaster.”

All eyes were on his father, and the map, as he deliberated a little more before speaking again.

“The potential of a larger group at St Simon’s means we may find a way to truly start over. With the ocean and climate, food would be available and the weather would be far less of an issue. And if Darren and Roger were right, a community that size would provide real safety. But, it is a very long way from here and that much time on the road in the winter...”

Mike was itching to speak.

“Yeah, and Batesville is a lot closer and I told you there is everything in place for us there. We have friends there who would help us get through this damned winter. We would be safe and then maybe we try for the coast when it gets warm.” He was still tense, though not as frustrated as he had been moments ago.

Mallory and Lara exchanged glances, like they were looking to each other for some approval of Mike’s suggestion. His father saw this and asked them.

“Mal, Lara, what do you think?”

Again the two women looked at each other, and it was Lara who spoke.

“I don’t like the idea of being cold all winter, but the trip to St Simon’s scares me. Who knows what’s out there, like you said- that much time on the road seems really risky.”

“Dad, its just too far. At least right now.” Mallory looked at her father the same way she had when they were kids, like a lost puppy. It gave away her emotions, she was holding it together, but she was scared.

His father turned to Mike, who was starting to un-cross his arms as he sat there listening.

" Mike, exactly how long would it take to get Batesville in a straight shot? One scout vehicle , staying on the move, keeping speeds above 30.”

Mike bobbed his head at the question, biting on a fingernail and staring at the floor.

“5 hours gets it done. 6 at the most.....using I-275 to go around Cincinnati. It was open when we came down, only a few places where we had to weave off or really get in the grass.”

At this his father sat up straight, and turned his chair out from the table so he could face the entire group. Jacob watched him, knowing that right now they were casting their fates and the fates of the children who were being put to bed in the bunker. A heaviness suddenly seemed to fill the room, like the weight of the decision had become real, physical around them.

“Then we have a choice to make and we will make it together. Do we all agree that we cannot stay here any longer?”

The group began passing looks back and forth. Maya looked to Jacob first, her eyes pleading for him to give her a direction. He nodded his head, and she did as well. Then he looked at his sister, who nodded her vote to both he and their father. Lara, with her dark hair pulled back, also nodded along in agreement as she looked at his father and Mike.

“Well, then that’s settled. You all know how I feel.” Mike was leaning back now in his chair and looking less edgy by the minute. He was not the kind of guy to sit around wait for things to happen him, and Jacob respected him for it.

“Ok,” his father began, “then the decision comes to down to where we are headed. Batesville or St Simon’s. The only way to decide is to put it to vote. Jake, what do you think?”

For the first time during their sit-down, all eyes were now on Jacob. He knew what he wanted to say, but for an instant, he thought his voice might crack in the dry cold air of the cabin.

“I think we need to pack up everything we can inside tonight, then, load the cars at first light and head to Batesville. I think St. Simon’s way too far. There is too much we just don’t know. ” Everything felt still as the words escaped his lips. He could hear the creaking of the floor beneath his feet, the hum of the lamp running off of the generator. The smell of the wood beams and burnt candle wax inside the room seemed amplified. He also became aware that Maya was squeezing his hand as it rested back on the mattress. Everyone had turned a blind eye to what was happening between them, but they had still been careful not to advertise it. They just didn’t want their feelings for each other to cause tension in the group. In a moment like this, that didn’t matter anymore.

The children were all tucked into blankets and Talia had gone upstairs as Elizabeth checked around the bunker to make sure everything was in its place for the night. She had known that Jacob and Maya were together, and had been for a while. On one level, her Faith required her to question this relationship and the physical intimacy that likely had led them to the “Johnson” house in the first place. But, on another level, her mothering instincts had taken hold and it made her happy to see that her son was receiving affection- possibly even love- in a world that had become hell on earth.

Elizabeth’s Faith had come upon her unexpectedly, and with great force when the Judgement brought the flu upon them. At first, she thought it was just a reaction to the shock and horror of what was happening. She questioned herself, thinking that she was simply hoping to be saved because the end of the world was obviously at hand. But, as things worsened, she found her Faith strengthening and solidifying, and the questions she had pondered seemingly forever, seemed to be answered in front of her one by one.

Her mother had been a woman of Faith. She had been a regular at church, forbid foul language in their home, and required prayer before all meals. But, that faith had never settled in with Elizabeth while her mother had been alive. It was not something that they ever got to share together in this life. The thought of that made Elizabeth sad, but the prospect of seeing her mother again in the Kingdom of Heaven made her feel better and gave her great hope.

Elizabeth now saw that before the Judgment, her morality had been untethered and self-justified. She had been, in general, a selfish person who had lived a decent life without any real calling. She had allowed her heart to wander from her husband and she lusted after material things. Too many times she had been frustrated by the way things were not, missing the joy that came from celebrating the way things were. Looking at it now, seeing the error of her ways, Elizabeth felt that her calling to Faith really had been a calling home, a way to prepare her heart for the Kingdom, after a lifetime of failing to do so.

In her husband, she now saw a man who had lost his way too, long ago. While she had asked him to follow her into Faith, Paul had just not been able to do so. He was filled with anger and rage at the Judgement that had befallen Earth, and he could not reconcile this with surrendering to God as Elizabeth had. But, her Faith would not allow her to judge him for this. Instead, she felt pity for him, just as she had before the flu had come. Then, he had struggled with alcohol and expectations, and those things had kept him from the Light. Her pity for him then had come from a place of feeling superior. She had looked down on him then, it wasn’t compassion’s much as it was feeling sorry for him because she was convinced he was an inferior being. But those feelings inside her were gone. Now she felt pity because she saw that his anger and his iron-will to protect his family simply left no room in his heart for Faith, Hope, or Love of the Lord. And that meant there would be no place for him in the Kingdom, which meant that she and he would not spend eternity together. She had come to see him in a different light in this new world. She saw the strength and competency that resided him, his courage and resolve. Somehow, with the burdens of their past life stripped away, without alcohol to serve as his crutch, Paul had emerged in the Judgment as the man she had once, and maybe always thought he truly was. She loved him for this, and her heart ached knowing that their days together were numbered, and not for an eternity. So, she prayed for him, but accepted that her prayers and her mission must focus on Jacob And Mallory, and on preparing their souls for the Kingdom.

As Elizabeth sat there quietly as her son take a nod of leadership from his father on Earth, she knew that Jacob’s Heavenly Father was now proud to see him assuming his place as a leader of men. It would only be a matter of time before he would lead them in rebuilding this world. She knew that Jacob would be different than Paul, that he had not been turned against the Lord by the world the way Paul had. Elizabeth knew was thankful that Jacob and Mallory would have a chance to begin in a world that had been cleansed, and she hoped and waited patiently for the day both of them would come to her and ask to follow her into the Light. Mallory had a special light around her, a beauty and a confidence that Elizabeth knew would draw men to her until the day she died. She hoped that Mallory would give her heart only to the Lord, and then share it with a man who would walk with her on the earth and follow her into the Kingdom.

Elizabeth found herself, at times, remembering life before the Judgement. She could smile about many things, but so much of her past life filled her with regret. She thought about her father, who had been a difficult man , fierce and uncompromising. She knew he had struggled mightily with his Faith , and she could feel tears filling her eyes as she imagined she might not see him in Eternity. He had loved her on earth, built his life around caring for her and protecting her. But he had been a flawed man, and her mother’s death had simply amplified those flaws. Her mother had been a woman of the Lord, and even more crushing than thinking about her father’s fate, was Elizabeth realizing that her mother had tried to being her to the Light, and she had been too young, immature, and defiant to follow her then. It was a pain of lost time that Elizabeth felt, that she had wasted a chance to live her life on earth more fully and in the LIght- if she had only followed her mother’s lead. But, that pain was relieved by a knowledge that she would see her mother again in the Kingdom, and they would be reunited in Eternity.

She thought about Bobby too. Bobby had been like a miniature version of her father, and he adopted his father’s own struggles and vices like badges of honor. But Bobby’s heart was as big and pure as anyone’s she had ever known. While he had not followed the Lord or lived his life in Faith, Bobby had been a good man who cared for those around him, and always sought to make the world a better place. She hoped secretly that she would see him again, but if not then she hoped he would be united with her father somewhere in the Abyss that awaited those who had not accepted the Lord.

Remembering her life with Paul was filled with happy and sad memories, both of which would make her cry quietly if she spent too much time thinking about them. They had spent so much time chasing after worldly things to make them happy, each one feeding off the other’s identical quest to find what was missing, yet completely unaware of what they were looking for. She had been in love with him so much that he had consumed her heart and mind, and she wanted him for her own. But she had never known anything about True Love because she had never opened her heart to the Lord, so as life became less about entertaining pursuits and more about navigating challenges and dealing with problems, her love for Paul had been buried under other material feelings that demanded her attention. She wept thinking about how she had never been able to stop Paul from destroying himself with alcohol and the anger that simmered inside him. Even in this new and burned down world, where he was sober and strong, that rage still ran through him like a river of Darkness. He was born a good man, and had they been able to find Faith together, she knew that he would have been able to save himself and that they might have been able to be together in the Kingdom.

Elizabeth knew that she would spend her days on earth remembering things like these, and feeling remorse and regret for decisions that had been made in Darkness. But she also knew that she had a purpose and had been spared for a reason, and that was to change and save as many of those around her as she could. She would help to remake the world in the image of the Lord, slowly , one soul at a time. She would start with her children, as she loved them purely and without end. Once they were with her in the Light, they would begin together to shape those around her. This purpose, this mission, was something she had sought everywhere in her past life, yet never been able to find. It had been the emptiness she had felt, which led her to fill her life with material things, social achievements, flattery, and superficial excitement. But it was the Lord who had always held a purpose for her, and in surrendering to Him she had filled not only the hole inside her, but she had also saved herself from an eternity in Darkness. It had been His plan all along, and it filled her heart with hope and joy that she had finally accepted Him and allowed Him to show her the meaning of her life on earth.

She was interrupted from her thoughts as Paul came down the steps behind her. She could feel it was him before she turned around.

“Hey, everything OK down here?”, his voice with her was soft, almost tender.

“Yes, they all went down pretty quickly and everybody seems warm enough. We may need to think about checking the water tomorrow though.”

She turned and Paul was facing her now, only a foot away, standing there like he was waiting to ask her something important. He was still handsome, maybe more handsome now than he had ever been and she felt a smile cross her face involuntarily.

“Jake had a pretty tough day and I know you are sad for him. But Elizabeth he did what was needed for he and for Maya.”

She nodded and bit her lip softly, knowing that the Lord still held a place for Jacob at His Table.

Paul reached up and gently touched her cheek with his right hand. His eyes were locked on hers as he spoke.

“You still are the most beautiful woman I have ever known, you know that.? “

He paused, almost holding the moment for whatever reason and it made the hair on her neck stand up.

“Tomorrow morning, early , Mike and I are going out to scout the road to Batesville. You and the kids are going to have load everything into the vehicles while Jake keeps post on the outer gate. Then, once Mike and I get back, we are heading out and leaving here.”

Her eyes glistened a little as he spoke, her heart pulling on her for some unknown reason, some sadness and fear causing her to feel short of breath. But, she just nodded and reached up to hold his hand against her face.

“OK, OK. We will get everything ready. If this is His plan then we His will be done.”

There is the quiet of the bunker, she stood facing the man who had been more a part of her life on earth than anyone, and somehow she knew that their time together was truly over. He kissed her on her lips and she kissed him back, maybe more passionately than she had ever kissed him, as if she knew that it was goodbye for eternity.