Through the Storm(64)

“You make it sound like he’s going to die.” Drake shook his head and growled. “He’s not.”

Conner frowned but said nothing.

Madison hurried across the front lawn to the door. “I found the satchel.”

“Let’s sit in the dining room.” Conner led the way.

The pastor sat next to Drake as Madison unfolded the map on the table.

Drake pointed. “Here’s the lookout spot and the end of the fence just past our farm. Someone is definitely providing the gang with information about the defenses on the hill.”

“Maybe, or it could be good recon. They’re also interested in what the sheriff is doing in Riverbank.” The pastor pointed to a spot on the map. “This is the police barricade on the freeway bridge.”

Plodding steps from the hallway grabbed Drake’s attention.

With red eyes and slumping shoulders, Claire entered the room. “Neal is stable. I gave him something to help him sleep. If he wakes, I think one or both of you guys should be with him.”

“Can I get you something?” Madison asked.

“Tea, if you have any.” She walked into the living room and collapsed on the couch.

“We do,” Ashley said. “I’ll get it. I know where things are.” She hurried to the kitchen.

Conner stared at his brother for a moment and then returned his gaze to the map.

*

Several hours later, Drake entered his father’s bedroom. Conner sat leaning back against the wall in a chair. His father lay on the bed, motionless and pale.

“How is he?” Drake asked.

“Still asleep, but I think the sedative is wearing off. He seems to be waking.” Conner stood and stretched. “Call me if he does.”

Drake nodded and stood there staring at his father. He had imagined his dad returning many times but not like this. He moved the chair and sat holding his father’s hand. “We’re okay, Dad. You just rest and get better.”

Thinking that it might be good for his father to hear his voice, Drake told him everything that happened since the night of the solar storms. He started with a confession. “I wanted Conner to go hunting so I could have a party and when he left, I did. We really made a mess. I spent that first day after the storm cleaning the house.” But along with the bad, there were things he wanted his father to know. “Ashley came the next day, really scared. I’ve been protecting her. I think you and Mom would be proud of me. But Dad, I’ve been really scared. I’ve shot and … I killed some people. I came close … real close, to shooting you.”

His father moaned and his eyes fluttered open. “You didn’t shoot me.”

Drake gasped. “Everything’s going to be okay, Dad.” He ran to the door and threw it open. “Conner, Dad’s awake.”

Conner hurried in and leaned over the bed.

Tears rolled down Drake’s cheeks.

Neal gazed at his boys and smiled. “Beth would be … is, so proud of both of you. I’m home. You’re both here.” He smiled. “I’m proud of you both.”

Gradually his eyes closed, as if his father had gone to sleep.

Several minutes later, Drake leaned close. Tears ran down his cheeks. His father had died.





Day Twelve

Evans Family Farm, Thursday, September 15th

Before the sun had warmed the air the next morning, Pastor Wayne and several other men arrived at the Evan’s farm. Conner spoke with them in the backyard and they began to dig.

Confused, Drake wandered out the back door. His father had died yesterday evening and his body still lay in the house. This was no time to be digging holes.

He froze midway across the yard. Conner and the others weren’t digging a simple hole. This was his father’s grave.

Tears rolled down his cheeks.

Conner hurried to him. “Go back inside. It’s okay. We can do this.”

More tears flowed. He retreated toward the house but then turned away. He didn’t want anyone, especially Ashley, to see him like this. Tears were for boys and that time for him had passed.

Reaching the orchard, he wandered aimlessly through the trees. He stood there alone. Why did you die? Why God—why did he have to go?

When his mother had died, his father had retreated into this place. Hurt by her death, he had used the farm as a fortress against the world.

Drake marveled at the sudden insight but shook his head. He wouldn’t withdraw from the community as his father had done. He had Ashley, Conner, Pastor Wayne, and others. Suddenly he wanted to, needed to, be with them. He ran back to the yard. Pastor Wayne stood by the grave with Ashley, Madison, Claire, and others.

The back door opened. Using careful steps, Conner and three other men exited the house, carrying a simple wooden litter. On it, wrapped in a white sheet, his father rested.

Drake hurried toward them. “I’ll help carry Dad.”

“You don’t have to help.” Conner shook his head.

Frustrated and a bit angry, Drake drew himself tall. “I’m not a baby. I’ve taken care of this farm since the sun storm. I can do this.”

The slightest hint of a smile crossed Conner’s face. He nodded. One of the men stepped aside and, across from Conner, Drake shared the burden of his father.

With Ashley on one side, Conner on the other, and friends all about, Drake watched as they lowered his father into the ground. He heard scattered words of the service only as interruptions of sorrow.