“You did?” Michelle gulped, her eyes widening. “Where?”
“Where we had the services for Dad and John,” Lee muttered hesitantly, the response afflicting him. “The funeral.”
“We didn’t see her there.”
“No, she came after.” Lee brought his mug to his lips but did not partake. “She waited until everyone left, when it was just me there. Then she just…appeared. And we talked for a while. She was in a mood, too. We both were.” He set his mug down, having yet to drink from it. “She really hasn’t been home at all since then?”
Alan and Michelle shared a panicky glance, supplying the answer while failing to reply.
Lee blew a puff of air through his lips and looked downward. “Wow, unreal.” He removed the spoon from his mug and shifted awkwardly in his seat, folding his arms. “Have you ever heard someone say things that were completely out of character? Things you’ve never heard them say…that normally you wouldn’t even worry about, but you do anyway because you feel something behind them because of how they were said? That was her; that was how she was. Most of it came out like…crazy talk, like I didn’t know who I was talking to.”
Michelle and Alan Russell stared hard at the downtrodden young man, hinged now on every word he spoke. It had barely been five days since he’d lost both his father and his brother, two since their bodies had been laid to rest. He hadn’t so much as spoken to anyone since and scarcely left his room. They’d known him virtually all his life, and in this moment, he was as humble and forthright as he’d ever been with them.
Lee rubbed his eyes. “I don’t remember her exact words. I just remember a lot of it was abnormal, almost creepy. She had this look in her eyes, it was empty and cold, but there was something else there, too. Like anger, but way worse.” He trailed off, biting his lip. “Lauren wants revenge for what happened, and she means to get it, no matter what. And I think she meant every word she said.”
The Russells stared at him with tormented gazes, bowled over at the disclosure.
“And then she just left,” Lee finished.
Alan ran a hand over his head. “Where did she go?”
“I don’t know. She didn’t say. She just walked away, back to the woods in her bare feet.”
Michelle glowered, fingers to parted lips. “She was barefoot?”
Lee nodded.
The trio alerted at a robust knock on the door. Michelle proceeded to rise to answer it, but Lee got to his feet first, eager to excuse himself.
The door opened, and holding just beyond the threshold, clad in full combat loadout, was Dave Graham. Lips forming a flat line, he sent a nod to Lee and said, “Good morning, all. Hope I’m not intruding.”
Michelle bade him enter. “No, not at all. Please come in. Make yourself at home.”
“Thank you.” Sloughing away some loose dirt from his boots, he slung his rifle over a shoulder and trudged inside, removing his cover. “Gracious. That bean aroma smells downright heavenly.”
Michelle rose sluggishly and made her way to the kitchen. “Have a seat wherever you like. I’ll get some for you. How do you take it?”
“Black as the night sky. No additives. No nonsense.”
After securing the door, Lee retrieved his coffee, disappearing into the hall and into his room without uttering another word.
Dave took a seat at the table’s far end near the window and scrutinized the man across from him a moment.
Mulling over now what had been exposed moments ago, undecided as to simply worry or lose his mind over it, Alan Russell’s deliberations were running at full steam. His stare fixed on his hands as they fumbled his mug about. He looked like a deer caught in the high beams of an oncoming Freightliner.
Michelle placed Dave’s cup on the table in front of him. “That’s the last of that batch,” she said. “I don’t mind putting on another.”
Dave held up a hand. “No need, but thank you. This should do the trick.”
She smiled wearily and retook her seat, her gaze falling upon her husband, who looked bolted in stasis, immersed in abysmally deep thought.
Dave didn’t hesitate to taste-test Michelle’s brew. “Extraordinary, the flavor blows away the bouquet.” He made a toasting gesture. “My compliments.”
Neither Russell tendered a response to his praise.
Dave took another sip and sat quietly for a time, then began to get the feeling his invitation might’ve expired. “Alan, Michelle, if this comes across as ill-mannered, my apologies in advance. But I’m beginning to think I might be imposing. Should I swing back in another time?”
Michelle shuddered and twisted in her chair. “No, sorry, you’re fine. We’re just dealing with a…family issue.”
Dave went to respond, halting when Alan suddenly came to life.
“Something just hit me,” he said, regarding his wife. “Something Lauren said the night of the party you threw for me when I found her in the woods. We had a great talk…turned into an incredible heart-to-heart. She told me so much I needed to hear, but there were some things she said that didn’t add up then.”
Michelle locked eyes with him. “What? What did she say?”
“She said I taught her skills and had others teach her. That I taught her how to think and how to look at things differently. Then she said something else…something I’ll never forget.” Alan hesitated, all eyes on him. “That I readied her…to make war with hell.”
Michelle leaned back into her chair, pale faced and jaw slackened. No words escaped her lips.
“I didn’t know what she’d meant by any of it then. I figured, like everything else, it would come to me eventually. And I have to say, it’s starting to now.”
“If I may,” Dave began, index finger pointed to the ceiling from a balled fist. “Please correct me if I’m mistaken. I’ve only been present within your humble abode a few minutes
