That evening the three sat in relative silence, eating freeze-dried mac and cheese in the dim flickering light of a small candle that had positively not been designed to provide light. The candle gave off a sweet vanilla fragrance that caused Shannon to yearn for a hot bath with ten more of these sweet little candles and a good book. She hadn’t read a word other than the reading she’d done with Essie, and now she longed for a thoughtful story to help her fall asleep.
“Do you think they’re dead yet?” Essie asked, causing both adults to stiffen.
“No!” exclaimed Shannon. “No one is dead or going to die, Essie.”
“Bart died,” the little girl countered.
Shannon looked at Calvin for help, which never came. “Bart was sick, honey. He was old and sick, and now that there are no doctors, well—there was no one to help him, and he went to heaven,” Shannon soothed Essie, reaching out and pushing her hair out of her face, with a warm smile intended to reassure the girl.
“My mom and dad died, and I heard Jared and Bart talking about how all the people in the world are dying.”
Calvin shifted in his chair. “Essie, you don’t need to worry about those things,” he said, trying to ease the tension he felt growing in the room. “All people die at some point. Even before all this happened, people died, but you’re right, a lot of people have died and are dying. You ain’t one of them though,” he said, smiling at the girl. “And neither is Shannon or me, or Jared or any other person we live with.”
Essie looked at her food, then moved it about the inside of the meal packet before looking up at the two adults. “I think that if you all died, then I’d die too.” Essie nodded her head as though this was a foregone conclusion and went back to eating her dinner.
“Well, alright then,” Calvin said as he got up from the table. “I’m going out to fetch some water before it gets too dark so you two gals can freshen up a bit before bedtime.”
Calvin stepped away from the table, walked to the house’s single bathroom, retrieved the five-gallon Home Depot bucket they used for washing, and strode out the front door. The door hadn’t fully closed when Shannon heard Calvin gasp, followed by the bucket hitting the wood of the front porch.
Chapter 21
Standing in the front yard not ten yards from the front porch was a Hispanic man in his forties, holding a machete in his right hand. The long-bladed machete hung along the man’s pant leg in a nonthreatening manner, but the fact that Calvin had not expected anyone in the front yard in the first place nearly pushed him into cardiac arrest.
Calvin dropped the bucket and quickly realized his shotgun was leaning just inside the door he’d just closed. The man in front of him neither advanced nor spoke, but instead stood as still as a statue, eyes fixated on Calvin. Calvin thought about retreating inside and arming himself, but something about the man stopped him. Calvin was armed with a pistol he carried in a leather holster on his right hip, much like a detective would have carried back before the event.
“Howdy, friend,” Calvin called out.
When Shannon heard Calvin call out, she grabbed Essie and shoved the girl towards the back of the small house. “Hide under your bed. I’ll get you when it’s safe.”
Shannon made sure the girl disappeared into the bedroom, then raced back to the front door, where she armed herself with a rifle. She eased herself to a window and peered out to see the Hispanic man with the machete.
“I need food for my son. I can work for you,” the man rasped through a light Mexican accent. The man spoke excellent English, but it was evident it was his second language.
At the mention of another person, Calvin wished he’d grabbed his shotgun. “Is it just the two of you?” Calvin asked as he glanced about the surrounding area.
“Me and my son,” the man responded.
“Have your son come on out so we can all talk and get to know one another.”
The man looked perplexed for moment; then he turned and gave a low whistle. Out of the bushes a young boy of maybe ten approached his father’s side, looking scared, in a state of malnutrition and generally not in good overall health. When the boy stopped at his father’s side, the man gulped and just stared back at Calvin.
When the boy appeared, Shannon could see he was suffering, and her heart nearly broke for him. She watched the men stare at each other for five seconds, and couldn’t take a moment more. She got to her feet and flung open the door.
“For God’s sake, Calvin, bring that boy inside so I can feed him.”
Both Calvin and the Hispanic man jumped at Shannon’s sudden appearance. Shannon stopped at Calvin’s side and beckoned the lad to her. He did not leave his father’s side, opting to remain near the comfort of a family member.
“It’s okay, we have food, and your boy is starved half to death, come on.” Shannon waved her hand more urgently now.
Calvin sighed deeply, then reached down and righted the five-gallon bucket before moving to the side as a gesture of goodwill toward the two standing in front of him.
Before the man and his son took a step, Shannon held up a finger. “We are good people here, we want to help you and your son, but if you do anything to jeopardize our safety, we will kill you. Understood?” she finished.
Calvin gave Shannon the once-over with raised brows. He was surprised, and then he wasn’t. She had probably been a tough girl before the event, and now that she had something to protect, she meant business. Although Shannon would naturally protect what was hers, deep down she was still the compassionate teacher
