“I think I need to order a couple of NVGs. When the power’s back up, would you mind?” He asked, looking over his shoulder.
“No, I think that’s a good idea. Should we let the dogs go out?” Trish asked nervously, Hogan’s gun was still holstered.
“I think whoever is out there shooting, might be trying to get into someone’s home. If the dogs go out now, they will draw attention. I’ll watch. If I see anyone come through that fence, both me and the dogs will go out and take care of them.” He smiled reassuringly.
“Alright. I think I should also get a gun. I don’t want to feel defenseless. I’d been thinking about it for a long time, but just kept procrastinating, and now, I think I need one.”
“If you do, I will give you training. When you buy your weapon, I suggest you buy a couple of gun cleaning kits. Also, pick up spare ammo. I hate to ask, but can you pick up 9mm. I’ve tried to order them online, but my credit card is no longer valid.” Hogan said. Trish could hear the shame and embarrassment in his voice. Turning, she placed her hand on his shoulder.
“Look, as far as I’m concerned, you can use my credit cards for what you think we need. I was also going to suggest that we should maybe start ordering our food online. I’m afraid to go shopping in town. There are long lines and a lot of fighting. I’ve seen a lot of shoving matches outside the stores this last week. I don’t know if we’ll get what we order, but it has to be better than waiting in a volatile line.”
She was engulfed in a hug and set back. She could barely see the outline of his face, but she could see the glistening of teeth. She smiled.
“Thanks. I’ll try to keep expenses down and when I order the food, I’d like you with me. You know better than I do.”
“When I get up in the morning, and if the power is on, we can do a little shopping. For now, I’m beat.” Trish said, taking one last look out the window.
“Get some rest, I’ll be up for a while and keep watch.” Hogan said gently.
Trish knew her feelings for Hogan were growing stronger. She knew however, he loved his wife and there was no getting around that. He’d felt so good holding her. He was a tall man, well-built and broad across the shoulders and chest. His waistline had shrunken, from when he’d been at the hospital. His strength and calmness made her feel safe. She would need to keep the fact that his wife was more than likely alive and well, in the upper most part of her mind. It wasn’t fair to either of them to daydream about something that could never be.
Ӝ
Hogan slipped quietly out of the house. His body was hot. Holding Trish had been a mistake. She’d felt so damned good in his arms and he felt ashamed. He was being disloyal to Laura. Part of his mind warred with the other part. Was she alive? Would he even see her again? Doubtful. Maybe in ten or twenty years, but he didn’t see it happening any sooner than that. Once more, his heart twisted at the thought, of never seeing her or his girls again. He ran his fingers through his chestnut hair and pulled in frustration. Laura and his girls were never far from his thoughts. It felt like shards of glass, digging into his brain.
He walked along the side of the house and toward the barn. He wanted to check on the chicken coop. The cold night air cooled him, he inhaled the cold air deeply and blew it out. He was caught in limbo, unable to grieve for the loss of his wife, because he didn’t know if she was dead, yet, unable to go forward for that very possibility. He and Trish were becoming close, too close. But it had only been two months, and here, he was acting like some horny teenager. Christ, he thought he had better control than that!
Hogan took a deep breath and let it out slowly. His heart thumping heavily in his chest. He needed to get a grip. He needed to think and figure this out. He could go nowhere. He could not travel west because the goddamned government wouldn’t divulge the locations of the hot zones. Why such a large discrepancy with the number of nuclear bombs dropped. Why so many conflicting reports? Why? Why was the government being so tight lipped? Did they not wish to rescue them? Send them aid? Did it all boil down to cost? Money? Was the cost of human life too much for congress to give a shit?
Hogan wouldn’t be surprised if it all boiled down to money and how much the government could keep in their wallets. They’d not paid for the refugee Hives, private entrepreneurs paid for that, or at least that was what they were told. Where had all his tax dollars gone to then? Millions in the west had paid with millions if not billions in tax dollars over the years, yet they were avoided like a case of herpes. FEMA hadn’t shown up, no, only the very rich. News reports said life on the inside of the refugee camp was run like a prison. Summary executions and no one was raising hell about it. No human rights groups, no advocacy groups, no one. Christ. They were no longer Americans in those camps, but commodities.
The chicken coop was quiet, he could hear the soft chicken murmurings, chicken dreams, he supposed. The gunshots had stopped. He wondered who’d won in that exchange. What happened if and when he had to kill someone trying to break in? Would he dispose of the
