Chapter Thirty-five

Five months have passed since Zeke’s attack on the farm, and the earth is beginning to awaken from its hibernation. Leaves are sprouting from barren branches, and the air carries that particular smell that always seems to announce the coming of spring.

We buried Buck behind the farmhouse, next to his wife. She died in the plague, but her last wish had been for Buck to help as many people as he could, which is exactly what he had done. His legacy is Burninghead Farm, which we recently renamed Burninghead, Indiana.

We buried Zeke, too, but the location of his grave isn’t worth remembering.

Just as Buck said, the farm looked to me after his death. I still don’t understand it. There were plenty of people more qualified to take over for Buck than me, and it seemed only right that the leadership role would have fallen to his daughters, Margie and Franny. But they declined, saying there was more to running Burninghead Farm than actually understanding how to run a farm, and that Buck had chosen me. I was responsible for the farm and its residents now, they said. For some reason, that thought didn’t scare me as much as it might have not so long ago.

We took in more folks over the winter, people who either stumbled upon the farm in search of a new life or who had been sent our way. Buck’s rules remain in effect. Anyone is welcome, as long as they don’t mean us any harm. Everyone is entitled to their privacy. Everyone pitches in. It wasn’t long before even tripling up in the dorm wasn’t enough, and we made plans to begin building small cabins as soon as the ground thawed. We began construction in March and things are progressing quickly. Ten homes have been finished. They don’t have plumbing or electricity, but no one seems to mind. Kate and I moved into our home a few weeks ago, the community insisting we take the first one. Rusty moved in with us. He has rarely left my side since Buck died.

I proposed to Kate one winter evening, out beneath the full moon. It was a magical night, the whole farm coming out to find a pristine snowfall blanketing the landscape. We made snow angels in the moonlight with some of the children, while others made snowmen and threw snowballs. I had been planning on proposing for a while, and as we stood beneath the stars, looking out across a field of angels in the snow, the time seemed perfect. Thankfully, she said yes. We made plans to wed later in the spring. It won’t be official of course, since there is no such thing as official anymore, but one of our newer residents is a former notary who is working up a whole system of record keeping that will include marriage licenses. Kate and I will be the first to receive a license. It will be stamped with the seal of Burninghead, Indiana.

All in all, time has been good to us. Supplies have run short with all the new people, but the coming spring brings new hope for food. With so many people, we decided to create a town council to help make decisions. Kate, Margie, Tony, and Mrs. Sapple all sit on the council, as does my brother. Nate and Lily are doing great, and every day I am reminded how blessed I am to have both my old family and my new one together and safe.

Dunk is a bit quieter these days. He still works hard, still talks and jokes and even plays guitar on occasion, but I think he’s lost the last of his boyhood. He took Buck’s death pretty hard, and it took him a while to open up about it. When he finally did, he said it was a little like losing his dad all over again. Truthfully, I think killing Zeke had an equally profound effect on Dunk. He has never spoken of it, at least not to me. Kate tells me, though, that Dunk’s been spending a lot of his free time with a girl named Charlotte, who came to the farm with Nate’s group. Maybe he’ll find in Charlotte what I found in Kate.

I have taken over the weekly guitar lessons, playing Buck’s old Martin every Wednesday afternoon. During the winter we held the class inside the farmhouse, but today we are huddled on the porch. It is really still too cold to be outside, but it is such a beautiful day, and the children begged, so I caved. They have me wrapped around their little fingers, and they know it.

I am about to play another song when the distant sound of a diesel truck catches my attention. I stand and look to the horizon, and see not one but an entire convoy of what look to be military vehicles approaching from the north. Kate comes up next to me, and I don’t have to say a word.

“Come on kids, let’s get you all inside,” she says. A few of the adults whisk the kids away. There have been rumors of a convoy of official military vehicles bringing supplies in from the west, and seeing is believing. I don’t expect that representatives of whatever government is left mean us harm, but still, better to move the children indoors. The others know what to do if there is trouble ever again.

I step off the porch and await the convoy. As I wait, I hear the screen door open and close behind me. Kate steps up next to me, sliding her hand into my own. Whatever this is, I know we will face it together, and I draw strength from that knowledge. I am sure that elsewhere on the farm word is quickly spreading about the convoy. It won’t be long before the rest of the farm comes up to see what all the commotion is about.

The convoy pulls up to a stop in front of the farmhouse. Truck doors open, and dozens of men in fatigues jump out to stand beside their trucks. A man from the lead truck approaches us.

“Sergeant Stafford, United States Army, ma’am,” he says by way of introduction. He removes his sunglasses and squints against the sun’s glare. I don’t miss the helmet and bulletproof vest he wears, nor the rifles his unit carries. They make me nervous, but I sense no hostility coming from the sergeant or his men.

“The name’s Taylor, please. Ma’am is reserved for Mrs. Sapple.”

Kate chuckles beside me.

“I’m sorry?” Sergeant Stafford says, not getting the joke.

“Never mind. What can we do for you, Sergeant?”

“Well, ma’am. It’s what can we do for you, not the other way around. We’re part of an advance scouting unit, sent ahead of our main platoon to see just where we’re needed most.”

“The military dropped off the face of the earth nearly a year ago, Sergeant,” I say meaningfully.

“Yes, ma’am. It took us a while to regroup. I’m sorry about that.”

I eye him for a moment. He seems sincere.

“It’s good to see the military is back up and running,” Kate says, stepping in while I study the convoy behind the sergeant. The volume of weaponry concerns me, even though I know it wouldn’t make any sense for them to be traveling cross-country without some means of defending themselves. There are still a lot of desperate people out there.

“Yes, ma’am,” he says, turning to Kate. “Federal government, too. It’s based out of California now. There were a lot more survivors out west than out here. But now that the government and military are back up and running, those of us the brass can spare are pushing east. We’ve got some supplies with us, if you need them.”

I ponder his comment about troops the brass can spare. I can only imagine what it must be like in the coastal cities, although something tells me that’s not what he meant. I push that thought aside for now. Supplies are a far more pressing matter, but I also know there are other survivor colonies in much worse shape than ours.

“We’ll take a few things if you’ve got them, but all in all we’re doing pretty well here. Save the bulk of it for those who really need it.”

He nods at me appreciatively. He looks around the farm, sweeping his gaze over the construction and farmland, as well as all the people making their way up to the farmhouse.

“We’ve been traveling for nearly four months now, stopping to help where we can. There are so many people struggling to get by.”

“It’s a hard world, Sergeant. But you already know that, don’t you?” I say.

He nods again. “Can I ask you two something?”

“Of course,” Kate answers for us.

“We’ve been through hundreds of encampments, full of cold, tired, starving people. Yet you folks seem to be thriving. What’s the secret?”

I think about it for a moment. I feel Kate beside me, squeezing my hand. I see the children’s faces peeking out at us through the windows of the farmhouse. I hear the chattering voices coming up behind us. I feel the golden sun shine down upon my face and the warm breeze kiss my skin. I look into Kate’s eyes, and she is smiling at me, and I know she knows my answer.

“Hope, Sergeant,” I say, turning back to him. “Hope and hard work and community, with just a dash of luck sprinkled in.”

My answer seems to make sense to him, and he smiles.

“The main platoon should be through here in the next month or so. They’re working to restore power in this half of the state. Once it’s back up, it’ll be staffed full time by army personnel. I’d say you should have electricity in the next couple of weeks.”

“That’s excellent news. We’ve got solar power but it’s a big farm and getting bigger all the time.”

“Well, we can leave you a supply of gas, if that’ll help?”

“That would be much appreciated. We’ve got crops to raise, and it’d be much easier if the farm equipment had something to run on besides spit and willpower.”

He laughs at that. “Is there anything else you folks could use right now? Anything at all?”

I glance over at Kate, and I honestly can’t think of anything more I need. She seems to have other ideas, though I have no idea what. “Well, there is one other thing, Sergeant.”

“Yes?”

.“We’ve been telling the children about this wonderful place called Disneyland,” she says, her eyes twinkling in the sun. “You think the Army could get that back up and running anytime soon?”

God, I love this woman.

The sergeant laughs again. “I’ll see what I can do.”

“Where are you heading to next?” I ask.

“Farther south and east. Another group is heading north into Michigan later in the week.”

“There are plenty of people out there in need of help,” Kate says. “Hopefully, they can hold on a little while longer.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he agrees. He looks around again, seeming to notice the children in the windows for the first time. “We found some kids about a hundred miles back. I have no idea how they survived this long on their own. We’ve been through a couple of survivor colonies since then, but I didn’t feel right about leaving them there. Those people, even with our supplies, are barely getting by. But you all seem to be doing well here…”

Kate squeezes my hand, and I nod my assent. Not that there had been any real question. She answers for the both of us. “We’ll be happy to take them in.”

The sergeant walks back to speak to one of his men, who nods and walks farther back into the convoy.

“There’s four of them. Three boys and a girl,” he says as he walks back up to us. Over his shoulder I see the other man help the children down from one of the trucks. They are clearly tired and hungry, but their eyes are wide and full of innocent wonder.

“Sergeant, anyone is welcome here. Anyone at all. We’ll make room.”

Kate leaves my side and walks over to the children. I can’t hear what she says, but I don’t need to as I see the smiles pop up on their faces. She is like a healing potion for their sad, tired little hearts. It is her gift, and not just for children. She certainly helped heal my heart.

The sergeant, who was watching, too, turns back to me. “Thank you, ma’am. We should be heading out now. There’s still a lot of country to get to.”

“Good luck, Sergeant,” I say, reaching out to shake his hand.

“Thank you, ma’am. Oh, ma’am?”

“For heaven’s sake, would you please call me Taylor?”

“No, ma’am,” he says, grinning. “What should I call this place? In my report.”

“You’re standing in Burninghead, Indiana. Population one hundred thirteen. Well, one hundred seventeen now.”

“There’s no Burninghead, Indiana on my map, ma’am.”

I smile. “There is now, Sergeant. It’s named for the man who gave us a chance to build a new life together. Some things are too important to forget, even after the end of the world. Don’t you agree?”

Дата добавления: 2015-10-31