Dangerous world, p.7
Dangerous World, page 7
“We’re not going back,” Arlo snapped. “We need to get out of this town. Now.”
“Maybe we can fashion a sled for Liam? So we can pull him?” Laurel stepped up to Arlo’s elbow and met his eyes. Back in the hospital, more often than not, he’d been affable. Friendly. Easy to talk to. But the flash she saw in him now was the old Arlo; the one who scared her.
If there was one thing she’d learned about Arlo Staaf, it was that him feeling helpless or frightened was dangerous for those around him. And right now, he was both. Helpless against the snow and frightened that, at any moment, they’d come across another sick person who might infect his son. He’d even insisted they wear bandanas around their necks to function not just as warmers but as masks if they needed them.
“A sled?” He helped Liam over the same snow drift that he’d fallen into and tilted his head at her.
“If we could find some wood and some rope….”
“So, now you want to take a detour to find woodworking materials?”
Laurel blinked at him then sucked in her cheeks. “It was just a suggestion.” She looked up at the sky. “But there’s one thing I do think we should do.”
“Yeah, what’s that?”
“Find somewhere to camp for the night because, clearly, we’re all exhausted.”
“Speak for yourself. I say we carry on until nightfall. We have the tent. We don’t need shelter.”
“Maybe not, but do you want to camp out in the open?” Laurel had stopped and put her hands on her hips. In this mood, Arlo was exasperating.
“Dad?” Liam interrupted her. “I’m sorry, but I think Laurel’s right. We need to regroup and setting up the tent inside somewhere sheltered—or at least under the trees—will keep us warmer.”
Laurel’s lips twitched at Liam’s maturity. Had he been reading a survival guide?
For a moment, Arlo said nothing. Then he grunted loudly, threw up his arms, and said, “Fine! You two just tell me when you want to stop.”
9
LAUREL
THREE DAYS LATER
It was pitch dark outside. They were hiding out in an empty ground-floor apartment. It was strangely modern, full of gadgets that no longer worked and expensive things that no longer had any value.
Arlo liked it. But he was in a bad mood.
While Laurel concentrated on fixing them some supper from the sparse ingredients in the cupboard—rice, beans, and canned corn—so that they could save their protein-bar rations, Liam attempted to cheer up his father.
“It’s going to be okay, Dad. It’ll get easier.”
“Will it?” Arlo had found an old bottle of whiskey and poured himself one. Laurel wasn’t sure that was a good idea; Arlo didn’t seem like the kind of guy who would do well with drink, and his mood had been darkening for the past three days.
“Sure.” Liam looked to Laurel. “Right, Dr. Rivera?”
“Right. And look at it this way. We’re safe. We’re away from the hospital. We’ve found somewhere to shelter each night. We’re in a better place here than we were at Lone Oak. With Liam’s immune system—”
“You don’t need to remind me about Liam’s immune system!” Arlo banged his fist on the table, then stalked off into the darkness of the hallway.
As his father left, Liam sighed a big, deflated sigh. Laurel left the rice bubbling and sat down opposite him. “Your dad’s just worried about you. He gets stressed when he’s worried. As a dad, he feels like it’s his responsibility to keep you safe.”
“Isn’t he supposed to keep me happy too?” Liam met her eyes as he spoke, then quickly looked away. “I shouldn’t have said that.”
“No, it’s okay, Liam. I know what you mean. You guys have had a rough time.”
“For a while I thought I was getting the old Dad back, but he’s gone right back to how he was. Grumpy. Snapping at me.”
Laurel took off her glasses and set them down on the table. The conversation reminded her of one she’d had with Mae not long after Bear returned from the Middle East. In fact, it was heartbreakingly similar.
“Your dad will snap out of it. Just let him feel his big feelings and try not to take them personally,” she said, reaching out to squeeze his hand. “Now, while I finish up, why don’t you take a candle and go see if there’s a kids’ room in this apartment? Maybe there are some comics you haven’t read.”
Eagerly, Liam jumped up from the table, grabbed a candle, and scurried out of the room. Laurel released a small sigh, then went to her backpack and took out the map of Lone Oak; there had to be something they could do to make the journey easier.
She was tracing her finger along a river that joined up with the one they’d lost Liam’s wheelchair to when the bear attacked, when Liam returned.
“No kids’ room, but I found this.” He set down a thick hardbound encyclopedia. “Looks kinda cool.”
“Ooh, I used to love encyclopedias when I was a kid. I guess you probably get all your facts from Google?” She pushed the map to one side as Liam sat down next to her and opened the book. “Well,” she said, “this is like Google, but in book form.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“It can tell me anything?”
“Pretty much.” Laurel laughed. “Let’s test it. What’s something you like? Something you’re interested in… I know. Comic books.” She went to the index, found the page, then opened it. “There you go… A comic book is a publication that combines pictures and words in sequential form….”
“Cool.” Liam pulled the encyclopedia closer. “I think I’ll look up… gorillas.”
Laurel laughed. “Okay then, go for it. Find ‘G’ in the index.”
As Liam searched for his gorilla page, Laurel hunted in the cupboard by the stove and found some oregano. No salt. Oregano would have to do; at least the rice would have some kind of flavor.
“You know, Liam, the other day, you sounded pretty knowledgeable when you suggested to your dad that we stop and regroup, and then since then, some of your suggestions….”
Liam looked up and shrugged. Then a smile twitched on his lips and he stood up to fetch his backpack. Reaching inside, he pulled out a battered old book and showed it to Laurel.
“The Boy Scout’s Handbook,” she smiled. “1911 Edition… You’ve been reading this?”
“Found it in the hospital library. It’s got some good stuff in it. Even if it is super old.” He began to flip through the pages. “There’s a whole section on winter survival.”
“Ah. I see. And what do the Scouts suggest?”
“Well,” Liam bit his lower lip. “Not so much about dealing with snow. But there’s some good stuff about tying knots, making fires, things like that.”
“You best keep hold of it, then.” Laurel handed the book back to him and returned to the rice.
For a while, as Laurel cooked and Liam read out gorilla facts with gusto, she almost forgot where they were and why they were there. She could have been back home with Mae when she was little, doing homework while Laurel cooked dinner. Leaning back on the countertop and turning the heat off the rice so it could fluff up, she looked around the small family kitchen. Photos lined the walls. Mom. Dad. Two kids, both younger than Liam and with gap-toothed smiles. There were pictures of them at the beach, in a canoe on a lake, hiking with backpacks and big grins on their faces.
Where were they now? One photo showed them outside a log cabin, sitting around a barbeque with an elderly couple who looked like the kids’ grandparents. Perhaps that was where they’d gone; to be with family.
Looking at Liam, Laurel swallowed hard. Since this whole thing started, since the world turned upside down, she’d been trying not to think about Mae and Bear. Mostly Mae, because at least she knew roughly where Bear was….
“Thinking about your family?” Arlo’s voice made her look up. His features had softened a little. Perhaps some alone time had eased him out of his bad mood.
“Actually, yes.” Laurel turned back to the rice, then set about opening the beans and the corn. With her back to Arlo and Liam, she said, “Bear, my husband. He lives off-grid in Canada. He moved there a couple of years back. But my daughter Mae… I don’t know where she is.” She turned back around, holding the can opener. “She’s in the Army. I don’t know where she’s stationed.”
“Wasn’t she allowed to tell you?” Liam asked. “Is she doing something super-secret?”
Laurel shook her head and smiled a little. “No, honey, it’s not like that. We just haven’t spoken for a while, that’s all.”
“Oh.” Liam looked at his dad. “I can’t imagine not speaking to you.”
Sighing, perhaps at himself for having been in such a foul mood, Arlo sat down beside Liam and put an arm around his son’s shoulders. “Me either, buddy.”
After a pause, Liam pulled away and looked up at Arlo. “You know, you don’t need to worry about me anymore, Dad. I’m doing better.”
Arlo was nodding. His eyes looked moist. He wiped them with the back of his hand.
Interrupting, Laurel put her hands on her hips and tipped her head in Liam’s direction. “And,” she said, “he’s been reading up on being a Boy Scout. So we’re in good hands.”
“Oh really?” Arlo raised his eyebrows at Liam and, as Liam starting rattling off the camping tips he’d learned, Laurel turned back to the rice. Lifting the lid and stirring it a little, she sighed. She liked this version of Arlo, but the last couple of days had showed her that the old Arlo was still in there, lingering just below the surface. And that scared her.
After dinner, they were forced to leave the dishes in the sink. This bothered Laurel, but they had no choice; the water from the tap was thick and brown, and they couldn’t afford to waste their drinking water cleaning dishes they wouldn’t use again.
“What if the people who live here come back?” Liam asked, looking around as though they might appear at any moment.
“I doubt they will, Liam.” Arlo nodded toward the hallway. “I checked out the bedrooms. Their clothes are gone and the kids’ toys too.”
“They should have taken this stuff.” Laurel gestured to the canned goods she’d emptied onto the counter, and to the bag of rice — still half full — and the unopened packet of shortbread cookies that looked mouthwateringly tempting.
“Not everyone can think clearly in a crisis. Probably grabbed what they thought was important—laptops, phones, wallets—for when the power came back.”
Laurel shook her head. Laptops, phones, and wallets meant nothing now. Overnight, they had gone from a world in which money meant everything to one in which it was utterly useless.
“It doesn’t feel right to sleep in their beds,” Liam said, as if he already knew his dad was going to suggest he hunker down in one of the kids’ rooms and get a good night’s rest.
“We can set up camp in the living room.” Laurel moved toward the door. “It’ll be easier to keep us warm if we’re all together.” Looking over her shoulder at Arlo, she asked, “Is there a fireplace?”
He nodded.
“Good. Let’s get settled, then. Best make the most of recouping our energy while we can.”
In the living room, after lighting the fire, Arlo offered Liam and Laurel a couch each and he took the recliner near the window. For a while, they lay in silence. Laurel looked over at Arlo. His eyes were closed, but he clearly wasn’t sleeping. Then she looked at Liam. He wasn’t on his couch. She sat up and looked around the room. Instead of trying to sleep, he was at the back of the room, holding a candle while he searched the bookcases that lined the rear wall.
“Find anything good?” Laurel stood up, slipped out of her sleeping bag and walked over to join him. In his chair, Arlo stirred and cleared his throat as he looked up at them.
“They have loads of business magazines, Dad.” Liam gestured for his father to join them, but Arlo simply shrugged his shoulders up toward his ears and scratched his beard.
“Not much use now, are they, son?”
Ignoring his father, Liam turned to Laurel. “Dad was in one of these once, weren’t you, Dad?”
Again, Arlo grunted.
“Which edition was it? Maybe it’s here.” Liam’s eyes had lit up. Laurel watched him as he sifted through the shelf of Minnesota Business Monthly magazines, one by one, desperately trying to find the one with his father’s name on the front.
While Liam searched, Laurel scanned the shelves in front of her. Crime novels, some big hardback ones that looked a little too ‘literary’ for Laurel’s tastes, a heap of non-fiction biographies. Then her eyes landed on an atlas. She paused. Her fingers stroked its thick spine. Breathing in slowly, she pulled it free from the shelf and went to sit on the floor in front of the fire.
She was about to open it when Liam shouted, “Here! I found it!”
Rushing over, he shoved a magazine into his father’s lap, then quickly took it back and waved it at Laurel. “My mom’s in it too.” He rushed over and plopped it down on top of Laurel’s atlas, flipping it open to the center spread. “There she is.”
Laurel adjusted her glasses. There were three photographs on the page. In each one, Arlo was wearing a dark blue suit, a crisp white shirt, and a neatly trimmed beard. His hair was short. His eyes sparkled. Next to him, his wife was wearing an emerald-green dress. Her hands were resting on her stomach.
“She was pregnant in these?” Laurel looked up at Arlo but he was hunched down in his sleeping bag, staring at the dark beyond the window.
“Yeah,” Liam answered on his dad’s behalf. “It’s all about how Dad was this big business man starting a family.” He smiled as he tapped the image of his mother’s belly. “That’s me in there.”
“‘Entrepreneur Arlo Staaf on readjusting his priorities as a father-to-be.’” Laurel read the headline. “Looks like a great article.”
Finally, Arlo looked around. “Load of tripe. Allison hated it. ‘Why are they interviewing you? I’m the one who’ll be giving birth.’ That’s what she said.” Arlo almost smiled, but then pushed his fingers through his hair and shook his head. “They must have been short on stories that month.”
“I think it’s good,” Liam said quietly. “Can I keep it?”
Frowning, as if he couldn’t figure out why in the world Liam would want to do that, Arlo nodded. “I suppose so. If it’ll fit in your pack.” Clearly trying to change the subject, as Liam rolled up the magazine and slotted it into his backpack, Arlo pointed at Laurel’s atlas. “You planning a trip?”
Laurel tilted her head to the side. “I was just… wondering how long it would take to get from South Minneha to Thunder Bay.”
Arlo sat forward, leaning on his thighs. “All this time desperate to get back to your hospital and now you want to take a road trip? What’s at Thunder Bay?”
“My husband. Off-grid in Canada, remember?”
“You mean your ex-husband?”
Laurel sat up a little straighter and sucked in her cheeks. “No, I don’t.” Her Texan accent had snuck through into her voice. “We’re not divorced. Just separated.”
“I see.” Arlo sat back again and folded his arms in front of his chest. He pressed his lips together in a way that made Laurel think he was stopping himself from saying something.
“What?” she asked, drumming her fingers on the atlas.
“Nothing.” Arlo shrugged. “It’s just… don’t you think he’d have come looking for you by now if he wanted the two of you to be together?”
Laurel blinked and swallowed hard. Was Arlo being deliberately cruel? She cleared her throat. “Maybe. But maybe he doesn’t know what’s happened.”
As Arlo scoffed, Liam sat back down next to Laurel and said, “How would he not know? Everyone knows.”
“Is Thunder Bay protected by some kind of anti-EMP forcefield?” Arlo was being snarky. The images of his wife had upset him. But Laurel wasn’t going to let him get away with it.
“No, Arlo. It’s not. But Bear lost his hearing when he was serving in the Middle East. He left because he couldn’t stand being around people anymore and he hated the hearing aid he had to wear. If he’s living alone, I doubt he’ll even be using it.”
As Arlo looked away, a little guiltily, Liam’s eyes widened. “So he really could not know what happened?”
“If he’d already gathered supplies for the winter and was hunkering down at the cabin, yeah.” She stood up, taking the atlas with her despite the fact she hadn’t opened it yet. When she reached the couch, she slotted the atlas into her backpack and looked up at Arlo. “Besides, it doesn’t matter if he wants me to find him or not. I need him to help me find our daughter.”
Arlo’s eyes softened a little.
“She could be anywhere in the world right now. But I’m done sticking my head in the sand. I need to find her. I hoped that you might understand that.” Before Arlo could answer, Laurel climbed into her sleeping bag and turned her back on him. Her chest was tight with tears that wanted to come, but she squashed them down. She stayed like that for a very long time. Then when she was certain Arlo and Liam were asleep, she let herself cry.
10
BEAR
For three days, Bear had put off leaving. Now, it was finally time. He couldn’t wait any longer.
“Ta dah!” Trent beamed as he set down a plate full of roasted hare.
“You caught this?” Bella raised an eyebrow at him. Trent nodded proudly.
“Yep. All me. I mean, Bear was with me, but I shot it myself. Right, PB?”
Bear blinked, distracted, but then nodded. “Right. All you, kid.” He looked around the table. “Even skinned it himself.”
As the others nodded approvingly, and Trent took on the role of dishing out the meat, Bear took a large swig of water. His stomach was churning with nervous energy. Usually, he’d have said no to food. But with Trent watching him expectantly, he forced down some meat and smiled approvingly.
