Chapter 7
HE LIFTED THE last piece of wood onto the frame of the backdoor. “Hold it there, Molls,” he said. She came up to his side and held it steady. He marked a few dots with a pencil and then nailed the board into the frame. “You can let go,” he said.
They stood back and looked at the door, at the two by fours nailed into the doorframe, each piece six inches apart and parallel to the next. All the other window and doors had been boarded the same way except the one leading to the garage and the garage doors themselves. The cracks had been sealed too, so their surgical masks now hung around their necks.
There was still a chance, he hoped, this whole thing would blow over and life would return to normal. He doubted it. He had studied this before—not volcanic eruptions, but disasters in general. Things always got worse. But he was prepared. More so than if he had moved back to the city like his moron boss had wanted.
It felt good to be right.
“I can’t believe we need to do this,” Molly said.
Sean looked around the mudroom, at the laundry units, the utility sink, the deep freezer. He picked up his tools. “Boarding up the house is the best way to keep us safe.”
“That’s not it.” Molly sighed and leaned against the humming deep freezer.
Sean turned to her.
“I can’t believe we actually have to board the house up.”
“We don’t get to choose when big things happen to us. We all like to believe we’re in control until that illusion slips away. Then you realize you don’t really have control at all.” He cleared his throat, realizing he was lecturing. “We just have to do it, is all.”
“Are we in danger?”
She wiped her face, on the verge of tears. His heart always broke seeing her cry, ever since she was a baby. Even when the cries were silly. Now, there was real fear and pain in her face, and it tore him up. “Come here,” he said, setting the tools on the washer next to him.
She hugged him tight, the first real hug she had given him in a while. Her tears soaked into his shirt. He said, “We’ll be fine. I’ll make sure of it.”
“I’m really scared.”
“We’ll be all right, okay?”
A beat passed. “Are you mad at me?”
He leaned back, looking at her. “Why would I be mad at you?”
“For taking my mask off.”
He rested his hands on her shoulders. “You just need to be careful. Think things through. One mistake could mean—” He stopped. “I’m not mad at you, Molls.”
“I’m sorry.”
“You don’t have to apologize.” She rested her head back onto his chest. He said, “We’ll be fine,” planted a kiss on the top of her head and picked up the tools. “Let’s go check the other rooms.”
He started out of the room when he heard her say, Dad. Molly stood in place, her cheeks red. Not fear in her face like before, but a look he couldn’t place.
“What’s wrong?”
“A lot of things.” Her eyes down at the floor.
“What is it?”
She tried to smile but couldn’t manage it. She picked up a few wood boards, passed her dad, and left.
He watched her walk away. When she disappeared behind a wall, his heart swelled with nostalgia for the years when she was still a little girl—when she would come to him with anything. Another reminder that those days were over.
He frowned and came into the living room. As soon as he entered, Elise turned off the TV. “The signal’s getting really bad,” she said.
“It’ll only make us more scared. How’re the others doing?”
“They just finished this room ten minutes ago. Molly went upstairs. Did you finish the mudroom?”
Sean nodded. “Where’s the little guy?”
“Around. I think he’s just fidgety.”
“And the news?”
“Some looting. I think most people are still afraid to go outside.”
“I’m afraid to go outside,” he said.
“So far the world hasn’t ended yet.”
Sean stifled his reaction. When the winter got worse, it might. Desperate people were like any other desperate animaclass="underline" back them into a corner and they’ll show you their true nature. These sorts of events brought out the worst. It was just a matter of time before people got hungry and had no grocery stores to go to. Then they’d see if the end had come. “You holding up?”
She strained a smile. Dark circles sagged below her eyelids, a sharp contrast to the whites of her eyes. “I don’t know how to feel.”
Sean set the hammer and nails on the coffee table and joined his wife. “We’ll be okay.”
“Then why are we boarding up the windows?”
Because the world outside was dangerous—people were dangerous. He tensed his jaw. “It’s just a precaution.”
“You’re lying.”
“Why would I lie?”
“To make me feel better.”
“We prepared for this, remember? For this. Right now. We’re ready.”
“I don’t know.”
“We are.”
“I never thought—”
This would happen. He did. That was why he had moved his family to this house.
Elise whispered, “We have two extra mouths to feed and I don’t know if we stored enough food—”
“We have plenty. And one of those mouths only drinks juice, so…”
Elise laughed, hearty and full, tears forming in her eyes, and smacked his arm. “You’re so bad.”
He smiled. She laughed for another few seconds before settling down. Sean said, “We’re ready.”
Her smile faded. “Things aren’t going back to the way they used to be.”
“We play it safe and stick to the plan, we’ll be fine.” He chuckled. “And to think my boss demanded I go back to the office, move back to the city. Can you imagine what trouble we’d be in if we were in the city right now?”
Elise tilted her head to the side. “What’re you talking about?”
Shit. He coughed. “It’s not important.”
“Was he going to fire you if we didn’t move back?”
“I didn’t want you to worry about it while Michael and Kelly were here.”
“How much time did he give you to decide?”
“What difference does it make? We weren’t going back.”
“So you weren’t going to discuss it with me?”
“Elise—”
“You think I didn’t deserve to know?”
He sucked in his lips. Elise handled things emotionally. If she had the opportunity, she would have gone back to her comfortable life in the city and put her entire family at risk. “We’ll talk about this later,” Sean said.
“We’ll talk about this now.”
“This is—I’m not doing this right now.”
“Of course you don’t want to.”
“Know what? This’s why I didn’t tell you. Because you overreact,” he said, his voice growing louder. “You’re going to debate me about whether going back to the city was an option when there’s ash falling from the sky?”
He forced air out of his nose like an angry bull, put his hands up, fingers splayed, and motioned for her to forget it. She wouldn’t listen to him, and he couldn’t even imagine the nonsense she might have to say. He went straight to the stairs. It was time to get the guns, anyway.
Even with his temper flared.
Chapter 8
MICHAEL LOOKED BETWEEN the wooden boards to the outside. The light faded with each passing minute. Sunset. The ash accumulation increased. Instead of picturesque white mounds, the ground was dark and speckled, as if stained with mildew.