Peter took a long pull from the canteen, looking nearly overwhelmed. “I…I don’t know. It’s been fifteen…maybe twenty minutes? Could be longer. Sorry, my mind’s really spinning. I feel nauseous.”
“That’s okay, we get it,” Fischer said. “That smoke is awfully heavy. You said something about gas?”
“Yeah, that’s the old Perry place. They owned an excavation company, there’s loaders, dump trucks, and dozers over there, parked right beside two or three big fuel tanks.” Peter hesitated a long moment. “They’re all gone now. Kristen…she moved out after her husband was killed…and now she’s…” He stammered and went back to the canteen, unable to finish.
Fischer strode to the road’s edge, now able to feel the fire’s intensity. Waves of heat breezed by like an ocean of unseen magma. “We should give this a close look before we head out, Will. Maybe see about containing it somehow.”
Will nodded. “Agreed. Pete, would you care to accompany us? We’d rather not leave you by yourself.”
“If it’s all the same to you guys, I’d prefer not to. I’ve seen all I care to see, and it’s hitting me a lot harder than I ever thought it would.” A pause. “I’d wanted to grab some bedsheets to cover the bodies with…out of respect, but I’m having second thoughts now. It’s a real mess over there. I don’t think I can go through with it.”
“That’s fully understandable,” Will said. “If it’s okay with you and you’ll permit us, Nate and I can see to that matter.”
“I’m grateful. I’ll…just be a few minutes.” He trotted to and up his driveway like a man hauling the burden of a pretend eighty-pound rucksack.
“This day is getting worse by the minute, Sharpie.” Fischer removed his cover and tossed it inside the JLTV’s passenger compartment with zeal. “Six dead so far, three of them civilians. And how are we supposed to put that fire down? With extinguishers and buckets of water from the creek? Wishful fucking thinking.”
Will’s eyes narrowed. “Keep your head, Fish. Stay in the game; it’s not over yet.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
Peter returned with his wife, Amy, glued to him several minutes later, her eyes damp and rubbed puffy and red after receiving the unfortunate news.
Amy handed off a pile of mixed cotton bedding she’d carried beneath her free arm. “I hope it’s enough—and we don’t want them back, so use them all if you have to. It’s the least we can do.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” replied Will.
“Amy.”
“Sorry…the preference for informality around here is taking some getting used to.” Will smiled. “Thank you, Amy. We’ll put them to good use.” Before turning away to hand off the bedsheets to Fischer, he noticed Peter had brought along the radio he’d mentioned before. Will gave the couple a moment before issuing an earnest request. “I’m sorry for even having to ask this, and if we weren’t already in a bind ourselves, I wouldn’t.” He pointed to the device. “Would you mind if we borrowed your radio?”
Chapter 27
Her concerns for Neo alleviated for the moment, Lauren’s reflections drifted away from the current dilemma’s uncertainty, back to home, her family’s welfare, and ultimately to Grace. No one aside from her, Neo, and her sister had been anywhere near the yet-to-be-explained blast that had taken out the shed. Her parents had been visiting neighbors, and everyone else in the vicinity had either been en route to or already at their search team’s chosen rally point.
Her anxiety approaching its limit, she rose to her feet. “Jae, I need to check on my sister. I’ll be back in a minute.”
Woo Tang pivoted. “Check on her where?”
“In the cabin…where I left her.”
Jean rose with Lauren and went about fretting with the scorched lengths of her hair. “Sweetie, I’m sure she’s fine. Pregnancy is a strange beast. Don’t let it take you by surprise if she isn’t herself. Want me to go with you?”
“No…I’ll just be a minute, but thanks, Jean.” Lauren sprinted to the porch and made entry, her eyes immediately falling upon an empty couch. She scanned the walls, the floor, the broken glass scattered about, and sporadic traces of what appeared to be blood while her unease gnawed inexorably away at her and a lump swelled in her throat.
She swiftly moved about the cabin, calling out while opening doors and clearing rooms with a cupped hand behind her ear to accentuate comebacks. “Grace? Grace!” After verifying the entire upper floor vacant, she opened the door leading to the staircase and to the cellar below, where her sister and Christian shared a room. “Grace! Are you down here?”
Forgoing using the headlamp dangling from a nail to her right, Lauren took the stairs two steps or more at a time until her feet met with bare concrete. “Grace? Dammit, where are you?” The lump in her throat was fiercer now, propagating like a malignant polyp. Nothing apart from all items inanimate revealed themselves where Lauren stood, and she forced herself to absorb yet another disheartening feeling as it engulfed her.
Cursing aloud, she dashed up the stairs, back to the hall and into the living room, then knelt and touched the syrupy, crimson droplets adhering to the floor and glass remnants strewn about. She rubbed it between her index finger and thumb and took a whiff, noting the smell of iron. This was blood—her sister’s blood. There could be no other explanation.
Lauren tried willing away this all-too-familiar feeling of panic, the expectation of the worst-case scenario coming to pass, but it was a losing battle for her. She rose, feeling restlessness in her legs and weakness in her knees. She felt thirsty, and every inch of her skin beaded sweat. Grace, where are you? Where did you go?
She put her back against the hallway wall and took one last look around. The handheld Baofeng radio that Grace had frequently kept with her since the day Fred had distributed them was on the table. Lauren gave it a cursory look, opted to take it with her, then made her return to the
