As he walked up the driveway, he forced a smile onto his face. He was frustrated, but his wife and son didn’t need to know that. Life had been hard enough for all of them, and Jon wanted to continue trying to be a strong head of the family. Stepping over the alarms he’d set up using fishing line and bells from Christmas tree ornaments they’d had at the cabin, he stepped up the porch and went to the front door. He hoped that he could eventually build a fence around at least a portion of the yard so the family could spend more time outside. Jon would love to come home from these hunting trips and see his wife and son playing out in the yard. One day, he hoped.
Jon stuck the key in the hole and opened the door. Spencer was sitting on the sofa and perked up as Jon entered. But when he saw that his father was only holding two rabbits, he slumped his shoulders and fell back into the couch.
“Hey, guys,” Jon said, trying to be chipper.
“Rabbit again?” Spencer asked.
Jon shrugged. “Sorry, buddy. There just isn’t much else out there. I’m sure I’ll find another deer soon enough.”
The promise didn’t help his son’s disappointment. Jon had heard it before in the previous days, but kept the smile on his face and shrugged it off.
Carrie sat on a barstool at the bar by the kitchen, staring off toward the refrigerator. Jon walked up behind her and kissed her on the cheek. She didn’t look at Jon, holding her blank stare at the kitchen. Jon could feel the uneasy vibe coming off of her, but ignored his urge to ask her about it. She then pulled her pendulum away from her neck and held it up over her open palm. He definitely didn’t want to talk to her now. He was growing tired of her depending on that damn thing for answers. It wasn’t logical.
He took the rabbits out back, where he would skin them and prepare to cook them over an open fire, but came back inside before he got that far. He went into the living room and sat on the recliner, leaning over onto his knees as he looked at his disappointed son.
“You know, maybe part of the reason I haven’t been able to catch us a deer lately is because I’m out there trying by myself,” Jon said.
After saying this, he saw Carrie finally turn to look at him out of the corner of her eye. Spencer perked up again on the couch, sitting up.
“What would you think about learning how to shoot?” Jon asked.
“Really?” Spencer asked, a smile creeping onto his face.
Jon looked over at Carrie to check her demeanor. Nothing had changed; the same flat look still lay on her face. He then looked back at Spencer and shrugged.
“Why not? I mean, it doesn’t mean that you’re going to start coming to hunt with me immediately. Your mom and I will have to talk about that, and you’re going to have to show me you’re ready. But you’re more than old enough to start learning to shoot and how to protect yourself and your mother.”
“Awesome! When can we start? It’s so boring in here.”
Jon laughed. “Maybe tomorrow, buddy.”
“Alright! Did you hear that, Mom?”
Carrie glared at Jon for a moment before getting up off the stool and marching back to the bedroom, slamming the door without saying a word. Jon swallowed, seeing his son’s expression change. Before Spencer could get upset, Jon reassured him.
“Don’t worry, buddy. It’s okay with your mom. She’s just stressed right now.”
But Jon knew deep down that there was more than that going on with Carrie, and he could only hope it would pass in time.
17
He stood there and watched it fucking burn.
He waited for a fury of emotion to hit him, but all that came was anger. Jon could find another place to live. Lord knew there were enough abandoned houses in the area. But he couldn’t replace the memories. This cabin had been his home since he, Carrie, and Spencer had come there after the world had gone to hell. And more than that, he couldn’t replace the photo, the last visual reminder he'd had of what Carrie and Spencer looked like.
That brought forth a new emotion, a fear. What if Jon forgot their faces? What if he woke up one morning and couldn’t find the images of Carrie and Spencer in his mind? He imagined himself scrambling through drawers in search of the photograph, only to not find it. Tearing the sheets off of his bed and flipping the chest of drawers over in a confused rage. So, he made a decision at that moment.
If he ever forgot their faces, he would go to the only friend that could guide him back to them.
Jon pulled the handgun from his waist and held it up in front of his face.
Placing the gun back into its holster, he gazed again at the burning cabin. The sun had just about set, the orange flames illuminating a new night. A night where Jon would have nowhere safe to sleep.
He’d accepted that he could do nothing about the cabin. Unless clouds appeared overhead within the next hour or so and brought with them a rainstorm, the cabin was going to burn to the ground. So, he began considering his next moves.
Finding a new place to stay became his top priority. The fire would potentially draw zombies or raiders to the area, and there was always the chance that people from the camp these men hailed from would come back. For all Jon knew, the asshole who'd run off could be going to get back-up. He doubted it,
