Frenzied activity whirled in his peripheral vision. The blare of a siren. A storm was at hand. Everyone dropping what they were doing, running toward the silos. But they were mere blurs of color to Mitchell. He was concentrating on the dot of fire falling from the sky.

A flare.

It had come from one of the farms. By his calculation, it had been fired from Alex Dash’s fields. Mitchell frowned, wondering what could be happening over there. He didn’t really care if Alex was in trouble. In fact, he enjoyed entertaining the idea that he was. Of course, someone else could’ve set off the flare and be in danger.

Did it really matter, though? All of this would be over soon, anyway. Wouldn’t it? Mitchell had the impression that something great was going to happen, and soon. He believed that there was a significant end nearing and in turn, a profound beginning would follow. The plant had told him that…at least he thought it had. Yet, the details of these events were unclear to Mitchell, but he considered that it wasn’t necessary for him to be given full understanding. He was a tool. A method in the process. A means.

That’s all.

Mitchell’s fists balled as he recalled that bitch, Eva’s words. She’d once told him that he was useless, that he was given things to do in order to keep him out of the way or something like that. What had she said? Like he was babysitting himself. The muscles in his jaw clenched.

“Bullshit,” he mumbled. “She doesn’t know anything. You’re important.” He gripped the rifle strapped over his shoulder and raised it, looking through the site. He aimed at a tree in the distance, pretending it was her. God, he just wanted to pull the trigger. Sink a bullet into her. Maybe Alex too. Maybe anyone else that stood in his way or tried to stop him.

Something bounced off the visor of his bio suit. He glanced down at the ground and recognized a seed. Then, a second and third pelted him and fell to the ground. The storm was here. His killing fantasy would have to wait for now. He began to walk back to the silo when he caught sight of the Med Hut. Light seeped from one of the windows. It was dull, but it was evident. As far as he knew, Charles was inside Walker House, assisting with supplies.

He raised the rifle and marched toward the Med Hut.

*********

Kay unpacked the last of the goods from the last supply run. She arranged them on the shelves of Walker House with meticulous attention, categorizing all the selections. There were dried beans and peas, rice, instant potatoes, pasta – with jars of sauce – various flavors of soup on the bottom shelf. The second featured canned meats: ham, beef, tuna. On the top shelf were cans of vegetables and fruit, including her favorite, peaches.

When she finished, Kay stood back and stared, her eyes wandering over this incredible selection. There were real, whole meals here. For weeks to come. Tears welled and she wiped them away before they could spill. She was simultaneously overwhelmed with joy and suspicion.

Supply runs in the past were considered successful if meager provisions were discovered. Things like gasoline, oil, matches and scraps of food. They had also been performed in higher frequency and each one farther out from Community. But lately, Laird had returned with what seemed like an endless trove of goods. Where had it all come from? This troubled her.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

Leaving the pantry, Kay checked on her children. Lance and Audrey were playing checkers in the family room. The siren sounded but didn’t disturb their game. “Storm!” shouted Lance, sarcastically. They’d become so accustomed to what used to be a phenomenon, that it had little effect on them anymore.

Laird was at the outer door, staring through the small square window. Next to him, his weapon leaned against the wall. She climbed the stairs and went to his side. He put his arm around her and pulled her close. “Look at this fool,” he said, pointing outside.

Kay saw Mitchell standing with his rifle raised toward something far off, but she couldn’t see any reason for his alertness. “What’s he aiming at?”

“Probably nothing.”

“He worries me.”

Laird nodded. “He won’t bother you. I’ll make sure of it. Isaac needs to do something. If it were me, I’d tranquilize him, disarm him and drive him out to the middle of nowhere and leave.”

Kay smiled. “Has a nice ring to it, but we can’t.”

“I don’t know…there are narcotics in the Med Hut…”

As if on cue, Mitchell walked off, then stopped, and headed in the opposite direction.

“Where’s he going?”

“Looks like to the Med Hut.”

Kay became rigid. “He’s going to get caught in the storm.” She looked to Laird, her eyes darting from his left eye to his right.

“And?” he asked.

“If he gets infected, everyone else will be at risk.”

Lair glanced through the window, then back at his wife. “If I get infected, we will be a risk,” he argued, gesturing toward her and the children, a floor below.

There was silence. Then Kay said, “Where are you getting all of these supplies from?”

Without turning from the window, he replied, “Does it matter?”

Kay touched his arm, slid her hand down to his hand and slipped her fingers around his. “Yes. It does. I’m your wife.”

He turned from the window. “I’ve found a place.”

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve found a place where we can live like before all this happened.”

Kay shook her head. “What are you talking about?”

He grabbed her other hand in his and squeezed. “When the time is right – and that is soon – we’re leaving here.”

Kay stepped away from him. She hugged herself with her left arm and covered her mouth with her right hand. Was her husband losing it? Had the moment she’d been dreading for so long finally arrived? Her eyes fell upon the gun leaning against the wall. Was he dangerous?

Lair went to her and dropped to one knee. “I know how it sounds. But believe me, I’m not crazy. I haven’t lost it. I just happened upon a place where things aren’t like they are here. It’s difficult to explain with words; you have to see it to believe in it.”

Her eyes grew full with emotion. “There is no such place left…” Her voice trailed off. She wanted to believe him, but, how could she?

“No,” he said. “Not here.”