The woman was middle-aged with wrinkled, sun-bleached skin. She was barefoot, and her feet bore calluses, indicating either a deficiency of footwear or a preference for being so. “Hi there, have y’all seen my girls?” she asked in a delightful Appalachian drawl, appearing both frantic and earnest.
Lauren thought the woman looked familiar but was having trouble placing her. “I’m sorry, who are you?”
“Oh, don’t be sorry, it’s my fault for not tellin’ yins. I’m Amber…Amber Brady. Not sure we ever met before; I don’t leave the farmstead much too often. My girls are Allison, Alli for short, and Annabelle; we like to call her Annie. Haven’t seen ’em for the better part of the day. We expect they’s missin’. Me and Nicky, Bobby Jo and Austin been lookin’ all over for ’em but can’t find ’em anywheres. Sure y’all ain’t seen ’em?”
Lauren felt silly in that instant. The woman’s looks and accent alone should’ve been a dead giveaway. She was the late Bo Brady’s widow, making her Austin Brady’s mother, though she failed to see the family resemblance. She’d only met the woman once, and it had been in passing, directly prior to the Marauders MC’s invasion of the valley and subsequent extinction. Amber and her three daughters were amongst those who had gathered inside Fred’s gun cave for refuge.
“What do your girls look like?” asked Jade. “If you give us a description, we’ll keep an eye out for them.”
Amber Brady used her forearm to toss the weight of her hair across her shoulder, then held her hand out to indicate how tall the girls were. “They both about yea big, and they both wearin’ dresses sort of like the one I got on. And they both got sandy blond hair like mine but not as long. I don’t have no pictures, never took any, never had no camera for doin’ that. Please, if you do see ’em or find ’em, snatch ’em up and bring their pretty faces home to me.” She regarded Lauren. “Y’all happen to know where we live?”
Lauren sent her a reassuring smile. “We do. Not far from the bridge at the north end of the valley. I…know Austin.” She finished awkwardly, readying herself to expound further about knowing the woman’s late husband but decided against it. It didn’t seem appropriate, having witnessed his murder firsthand. “I’m Lauren, by the way. And this is Jade.”
“Nice to meet you. And nice to meet you too, Jade. Sorry, can’t stay longer. Got to find my girls. I’ll tell Austin you said hi, Lauren.” She then started the ATV’s engine and sped off.
Lauren watched her disappear in a cloud of gravel dust. “I wonder what that’s all about.”
“Uncertain,” Jade said. “How often do kids go missing around here?”
“They don’t.”
“We should probably head back to the FOL and check in, then,” said Jade. “Something might be transpiring that we’re missing out on.”
Chapter 16
As winter steadily released its hold on the valley, notions of planting and gardening had begun to sprout. Until its destruction last autumn, the community had heavily relied on Sarah and Bryan Taylor’s greenhouse as a primary provider of grown sustenance. Now, devoid of that benefit, they worked per household to maintain gardens and raised beds, a chore far from being undemanding.
Along with hundreds of other essential chores to which she tended daily, Michelle had been putting in a good share of gardening time. With Alan’s added help, the family garden had been tilled, fertilized, cultivated, and hand plowed, and was now prepped and ready for the planting of seeds.
The husband and wife team knelt inches away from each other, their knees half-buried in the cool, mineral-rich soil, their hands displaying a fine, brownish sheen. Michelle observed her husband often; the miracle of him returning remained so new to her still, she couldn’t help herself. As she dug through the dirt with her fingers and a gardening trowel, her eyes met with the grime beneath his fingernails, while at times, peeking upward to the look of sweeping deliberation etched on his face. “Alan…planting seeds in the dirt is meant to be fairly cut and dry, but you look like you’re calculating algebra. Is something on your mind?”
“Always,” replied her husband, eyebrows raised. “Is it showing?”
“Mm-hmm. It’s written all over your face.”
“Oh, sorry, I wasn’t aware I was being actively analyzed.”
Michelle let a breath out. “You’re not, but you’ve done this before, several times since you’ve been back…and it’s got me wondering. Does my other half plan to share his thoughts this time? Or is he, once again, putting my telepathy skills to the test?”
“He’s undecided,” replied Alan. “It’s nothing, really. Just a few things I’ve been contemplating for a couple of days now. Nothing major or minor. Just…things.”
Michelle pursed her lips and looked away. “I have an idea. How about, for a change of pace, you just start rambling on about whatever things you’re thinking about, and I’ll…respond if a response is required.”
Alan sent her a coy glance. “Twist my arm. I guess it’s stemming from me feeling a little lost still. I know things and I don’t know…things. I know I’m home, where I belong, back with you, Lauren, and Grace. I know I’m surrounded by friends, even though I don’t really know them or much about them; or rather more to the point, I’ve forgotten them and everything I knew about them, but that isn’t all I’ve forgotten. That list is long, and it feels like it’s growing lengthier by the day.” He paused. “But what I’ve really begun wondering about is what everything was like before this happened.”
“This…”
“Yeah…what was our life like before? What was the world like, and so on? What was everything like before the EMP changed it all?”
“Whoa,” Michelle reacted. “I knew you and I would be doing some digging today, but I didn’t think we’d be digging a rabbit hole.”
“If it’s too much for you, don’t worry about it. We can table it.”
Michelle’s playful expression began transitioning away. “No,
