Chapter Twenty-nine

Gray storm clouds lumbered high above, menacing and full of intention. The air was heavy with the threat of rain, as if the skies would open at any moment and wash Duncan and Taylor away, along with any trace they had ever existed. All morning, they had been dogged by thunderheads, yet the rain had not come. As they sat astride their horses, staring up at the front of Taylor’s childhood home, Duncan was grateful for the patience of the rain.

The house was statuesque in its stillness, its whitewashed siding gleaming against the foreboding sky. Seasons had come and gone from this place, leaving behind an overrun lawn woven with decaying leaves. Heavy drapes were drawn inside the windows, as if someone had tried to fend off death by shutting out the world. On the front porch, a set of wind chimes rang out a tune orchestrated by the wind, a last-ditch attempt to welcome visitors to a place long abandoned. This house, which Duncan could imagine once standing majestic and proud, now stood only in mourning.

Life had not flourished at the home of Taylor’s parents for a long, long time. Of that, Duncan was sure. Taylor’s parents might not be dead, of course, but Duncan knew they were, just the same. There was an emptiness to this place, a conclusion to be drawn by the absence of the telltale signs of existence. By the set of Taylor’s shoulders, Duncan knew that Taylor knew it, too.

Taylor dismounted, still staring up at the crest of the roof, lost among the ghosts of her past. Duncan followed silently, not wanting to intrude in any way, wanting simply to be present. Without looking back at him, Taylor offered him Stu’s reins, dropping them into Duncan’s hand on a blind assumption that he would catch them, which he, of course, did. She headed off around the side of the house, so Duncan followed, being sure to keep some distance between himself and Taylor. She disappeared at the back of the house, and Duncan paused. He was unsure of himself and unsure of what Taylor needed of him beyond caring for the horses. Minutes passed and still he waited, wondering where she had gone and even whether she was planning on coming back. That thought, and the uncertainty it created, got his feet moving. He headed toward the back of the house, bringing the horses along behind.

Duncan rounded the back corner, and there, beneath a large walnut tree scarred from the years, he found Taylor kneeling in the grass, her head bowed before two wooden crosses. He knew without needing to read the names carved into the makeshift grave markers. At long last, Taylor had found her parents.

Duncan felt the weight of Taylor’s grief descend upon him, as he watched her shoulders shake as she wept upon the graves of her parents. It reminded him of his own grief, which he had thought long buried in the many months since he had dug his own parents’ graves, at least until that first night with Taylor under the stars. He still did not know for sure what had triggered it, what it was about those stars that had brought up memories of his parents or his need to be comforted. But Taylor’s story had comforted him, and that night he had fallen asleep feeling closer to his parents than on any night since their passing.

Duncan led the horses over to the back porch of the house, tying their reins loosely to the railing. Slowly he walked over to where Taylor knelt, not wanting to startle her but hoping his nearness would comfort her somehow. She did not acknowledge him, but he knew that she knew he was there, and that was enough.

He read the names on the markers, the simple act offering up both his respects and a prayer for their souls. Taylor reached out a hand, touched the swollen grass before her, clutching then releasing her fist upon one grave, then the other. Her sobbing subsided, replaced with what, Duncan did not know. He watched as she kissed her fingers and then reverently transferred the kiss to each of the markers, a clear good-bye. Then she stood and turned toward him, full of power and grace. Duncan thought she might push him away, might retreat to that dark place that had consumed her for so long. But he could see in her eyes none of the darkness he feared for her. They held sorrow to be sure, but her face was open, a mixture of grief and peace, as if she could finally let herself rest. Clearly, her parents had died months ago.

Duncan risked reaching out a hand and settled it on her shoulder, still unsure of how she would react even to such a tentative offer of support. She reached her hand up and covered his, squeezing it gently in gratitude. In that moment, Duncan knew that no matter what else they found in Asheville, Taylor would really and truly be all right.

“They must have died early on,” she said quietly, turning back to gaze down upon the final resting place of her parents. “Back when folks were still burying their dead.”

“Then there’s still hope,” Duncan offered.

“Yeah. My sister’s place is about a mile from here. We should head there next.”

“Don’t you want to go inside?” Duncan asked, nodding toward the house. “There might be things you want to take with you. Mementos and such.”

“No,” she said wistfully, staring up at the house one last time. “Let it rest in peace. I have my memories. That’s enough.”

Duncan nodded, knowing that Taylor had found all she had needed to find. He untied the horses, and they mounted Stu and Goldie, heading off toward her sister’s home.

This time Duncan did not wait by the side of the house when Taylor went around back. This house, too, was devoid of life, and they knew what they would find. Just as at her parents’ place, two makeshift gravestones marked the backyard, crosses of wood lovingly etched with the names of Taylor’s sister and brother-in-law. Taylor’s ritual was the same, and Duncan gave her time to weep upon their graves. She offered them her final kiss good-bye and turned back to Duncan.

“My brother lives on the other side of town,” she said, taking the reins back from Duncan.

“Do you want to wait a while? Take a break or something?” Duncan feared racing off only to find one more gravesite, and along with it the end to Taylor’s entire family.

“I’m fine. But thanks. Unless you think the horses need a break?”

Duncan thought Taylor was simply in denial, that she was beginning to shut down despite what he had thought earlier, but he soon realized her concern for the horses was real. As long as she was feeling concern for something, Duncan reasoned, she was still doing okay.

“No, I think they’re fine. We can go if you’re ready.”

They headed off toward Taylor’s brother’s home, and the last of Taylor’s hope for her family.

It took more than an hour to reach the far side of town. They rode past home after home, storefront shops and churches, all of which showed absolutely no signs of life. Although the town looked like a bigger version of the one he grew up near, it reminded him more of the ruins of some long-lost civilization he had studied in school than a once-thriving town. Wherever the group of survivors was that had helped Adam and his family, Duncan could see no sign of them.

They reached the outskirts of town, where there were fewer houses and more open land. On a street called Maple, about halfway down the block, they found Taylor’s brother’s home. This time, Taylor did not dismount at the front of the house. She barely even paused before leading Stu around to the back. Unfortunately, the change in ritual did nothing to change the outcome. Four graves awaited them in the back, the wooden crosses rising up from the earth, silent witnesses to the end.

Taylor slid down from Stu and made her way over to the graves. Duncan dismounted and took hold of the horses, giving Taylor her space. He looped the reins over a low but sturdy branch of a nearby tree. This was truly the end, then, Duncan thought, saddened even though he was not surprised. He mourned for Taylor’s family, mourned for Taylor. All he could hope for now was that these graves would bring her more than despair and heartache. That somehow, someway, they would allow her to get on with her life.

Taylor rose from her knees, and Duncan took his cue, softly approaching. She remained facing away from him, her attention focused on the four grave markers. He squeezed her shoulder, letting her know he was there.

She looked up at him weakly, her face a mask of anguish. She worked to regain some sense of composure. Duncan could feel her willing herself to take control, to realize that nothing had changed, that they had known this was going to be the result as soon as they had found her parents’ graves. That the peace was in the knowing.

She drew herself straighter. “I’m okay.”

Duncan nodded, releasing her.

“What do you want to do now?” Duncan asked. “Should we keep searching for the survivors Adam talked about? Try to find out what happened?”

She stared off into the distance for a long moment, and Duncan wondered if she was saying good-bye to all that she now knew she had lost. She turned back to him.

“We head home. There’s nothing left for me here.”

He wondered if maybe they should wait, allow Taylor to take more time given all that had happened, maybe try and get some answers from the survivor colony. But then he wondered what he would want to do if it had been him in Taylor’s place, and he realized he would feel the same as she seemed to feel. The only answers that mattered were the ones she had found in the graves of her family. The details were not important now. He handed her Stu’s reins.

“We should find some place to bunk down for the night, before the rain lets loose,” he said as they walked back around toward the front of the house. Taylor started to reply but her words died as a man with a shotgun stepped directly into their path, his gun pointed square at Duncan’s chest. The only thing that surprised Duncan more than that shotgun was what came out of Taylor’s mouth.

“Nate?”

Дата добавления: 2015-10-31