Chapter Thirty-Nine
Kellen
I should have gone with them rather than letting Aaron take the lead.
Maybe if I’d gone, Wayne would still be alive and Jesse wouldn’t have gotten shot. Perhaps I could have talked down this Holt guy.
My regrets keep mounting higher and higher until there’s a very real sense that they’re all going to come toppling down around me right along with my sanity.
I knew I should have overridden Aaron’s decision, but I didn’t. And now I feel responsible for everything that’s happened. If Jesse dies, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to look Tyler in the eyes again.
About an hour or two after we arrived, a woman in black scrubs makes her way over to us. She beams, revealing a small gap between her front two teeth. That smile has to be a good sign.
“I’m Dr. Bellafleur,” the woman says in a slight French accent. “You can call me Dr. B. I was able to get Jesse all patched up.”
Aaron makes a strangled sound of relief and Tyler fist pumps the air. The rest of our group share relieved smiles.
“You guys must be the brothers,” Dr. B says. “Why don’t you two come on back? The rest of you can walk a block east to the church. Ask for Mary. My sister runs the shelter there and will get you a place to stay.”
Aaron and Tyler follow after the doctor. The rest of us make our way outside. Whereas the sun had been shining earlier, a thick cloud cover has moved across the sky. I get a whiff of smoke and wonder what part of our great nation is on fire this time. What’s left of our broken little group hobbles up the road to the church.
Mary, a woman who looks exactly like Dr. B with the same gap in her teeth and matching eyes, greets us happily with the French accent her sister also has.
“I heard all about your group,” Mary says in greeting. “So sorry about the fella who didn’t make it. Holt will stand trial for his murder. Don’t you worry.”
We nod, too tired to say much else.
“Come on.” Mary gestures for us to follow her into the church. “Let me show you around.”
The church seems to be a happening place. Kids of various ages play in small groups in the foyer where games and toys have been set up. Beyond the foyer is a decently sized meeting room that looks to have once been used for potluck dinners. It’s been turned into a cafeteria for the shelter dwellers. Mary waves to a woman with wiry gray hair sweeping up leftover mess from the most recent meal. Past the cafeteria and through another hallway, we find the sanctuary. A few pews remain near the pulpit, but the rest have been removed and replaced with cots and some curtained areas.
“Families are allowed their own ‘room’ for privacy,” Mary says with a smile. “I assume you all want to be together? If not, there are plenty of cots out here in the open, but they’re usually reserved for lone stragglers we come across.
“We’ll stay together,” I agree with a nod. “Thank you.”
Mary shows us to one of the curtained places. “There’re showers available at the local motel, but you’ll need to get with Paula, the one sweeping when we came in, and she’ll put you on the schedule, as well as go over the rules.”
“Rules?” Hope asks with a grimace.
“Nothing too wild,” Mary says with a chuckle. “Simple stuff like clean up after yourself, don’t go crazy using the community shampoo and whatnot, and oh, don’t take more than your allotted time.”
“What happens if you go over?” Dan inquires, body tense. “What’s the punishment?”
Mary studies each of us for a beat and then her smile falters. “You all have been through a lot. I can see that. You won’t be punished. You’ll just be remembered. If you take a long time, Paula will make sure you get a later slot next time. And, if you are a repeat offender, she’ll put you last. Last one out for the night is in charge of scrubbing down the shower and refilling the community products.”
I relax knowing it’s nothing terrible. “How do we go about getting supplies?” I ask, yawning. “We’re out of everything.”
Mary’s smile is back in full force. “Goodland residents have volunteered their time to make packs for every visitor who stays here. They’ve been separated by size. I’ll have some backpacks brought to you all. Just fill out the form on your cot and turn it in to Paula or myself.” She gives my arm a squeeze. “Why don’t you all get settled and we’ll see about getting you all sorted out.”
Aaron and Tyler missed dinner, though Mary assures me her sister is making sure they’re fed at the hospital. The rest of us scarfed down the canned stew and freshly baked bread as though we hadn’t eaten in years. Several smaller kids giggled at our zeal for the mushy dinner. After, we all took our turns getting showers. Now that I’m clean and sitting on my cot, exhaustion takes over.
Hope sees me nodding off and smirks. “Go to sleep, old man.”
“Old man?” I ask, lifting a brow.
She shrugs. “Reminds me of my dad. He could nap sitting up. Used to drive my mom crazy.” Her eyes sheen with tears and she forces a smile. “I miss them.”
“Were they…”
“They had a place over in Oakland. There’s no way they’d have survived the tsunami and floodwaters.”
The pain etched on her pretty face guts me. This entire time I’ve traveled with her and the others I never thought to ask if she had family she could go to or ones she may have lost. She never spoke about it until now and I certainly never asked.
Some leader you are, man.
“I’m sorry,” I mutter.
Thankfully, Mary saves us from any more awkward conversation. She and a few volunteers distribute our backpacks. We made sure to fill out the forms for Tyler and his brothers as well.
“This here is for Pretzel,” Mary says, handing Hailey a small kids’ backpack. “Can’t forget about that little cutie.”
Hailey’s face lights up as she accepts the bag. One of the volunteers, a girl around her age, grins at her and waves as though she’s happy to have a potential new friend.
Once Mary and her helpers are gone, we all set to going through our bags. In my bag, I discover a pair of jeans, two T-shirts, two pairs of underwear, three pairs of socks, a sweatshirt, a pair of athletic shoes, and a steel water bottle at the bottom. I also find an unopened bar of soap, a small tube of toothpaste, some floss picks, a comb, a stick of deodorant, and a two-pack of toothbrushes. For reading material, they’ve included a Bible and a pamphlet about Revelations—which feels fitting since we’re basically living the end times. In a little front pocket, I find a small working flashlight, a bottle of ibuprofen, a handful of Band-Aids, some alcohol wipes, and hand sanitizer. The side pockets include three granola bars, two packets of trail mix, several sticks of beef jerky, a plastic bottle of water, a pack of gum, and a package of Skittles.
I’m blown over by their thoughtfulness and generosity.
Hope laughs and I look up in time to see her waggling a box of tampons at Hailey, who giggles in return. Pretzel is happily shaking his new toy around. The contents of the dog’s bag are a gallon-sized Ziplock bag of dog food, a bottle of water, two small, collapsible bowls, the toy he’s terrorizing, and a bag of treats.
I’m tempted to go through Tyler’s bag on the cot next to mine to see if he has the same things as me but manage to refrain from doing so.
Grabbing my bag up, I make my way to the church bathroom to change into clean clothes. Once I’ve gotten into something that doesn’t smell so awful, I apply the new deodorant and brush my teeth before heading back to our area.
“…going to be okay,” a deep voice says, relief flooding through his words. “We’re so lucky to have been brought here.”
I recognize the voice as Aaron. Sure enough, when I enter our curtained-off area, I find him and Tyler both standing in the middle of the room with the rest of the group their captive audience.
“Is he awake? How’s he feeling?” I blurt out from behind Tyler and Aaron.
Tyler whirls around and a smile tugs at his lips. “He’s groggy and grumpy, but he’s alive, which is all that matters. Dr. B thinks he’ll be able to join us here in the next day or two.”
“That’s great news.” I motion for his cot. “They hooked everyone up with their own pack of supplies. I think you’ll be pleased they included deodorant in mine.”
Tyler chuckles. “What a treat not to have to smell your B.O. for a change.”
I flip him off. “You both need to grab showers.”
“Already on it,” Aaron says, holding up his hand where a number’s been written. “A lady named Paula chased us down with her clipboard.”
As much as I want to stay up and talk to everyone, I can barely keep my eyes open. I sneak a quick peck on Tyler’s lips before he slips away for his shower. But once I lie down on my cot and have the blanket pulled up over my head to block the sound, my brain feels like it’s been shot up with caffeine. Sleep evades me as my mind races.
This place is safe.
Warm, comforting, inviting.
These people of Goodland welcomed us in with open arms. It’d be stupid to leave like we did St. George.
So why do I still feel the need to get on the road?
Knox.
I need to find my brother and check in with my family. Otherwise, I’ll go mad worrying about him.
Time feels as though it’s ticking away. Every second faster than the last. My heart throbs painfully in my chest and blood rushes in my ears. Anxiety rattles every nerve in my body and sours the stew in my stomach.
I’m so close I can practically sense my brother’s presence. He’s alive. I know he is. I feel that if he weren’t, I’d have somehow known it on a cellular level.
If he’s alive and out there, I need to get to him.
Alone.
The thought sends a shiver down my spine. Leaving the group, especially Tyler, after all we’ve been through, seriously makes me sick. I tried once before and they wouldn’t let me.
This time is different.
We lost people because of me. People were injured because of me. I can’t promise what lies ahead from here to Ransom, but I can promise what lies ahead here.
Good people. Showers. Food. Safety. Medical care.
Tyler and the others need to stay here. It’s their best chance at this point. Trying our luck again, as a group, is just suicide. At least if I get myself killed along the way, I’ll have nobody to blame but myself. Guilt won’t eat me alive every second of every day like it does now.
I could leave right now—tonight—but I can’t chance Tyler’s reaction. He’d do something stupid like go after me, leaving his healing little brother behind. I can’t be responsible for that.
No, I need to be smart about this.
I’ll wait until Jesse is back and the group is complete. Then I’ll leave a letter for Tyler explaining my mission and why he can’t come with me.
Will he ever forgive me?
Will I ever see him again?
If it’s safe, maybe I could come back for them. That’s a big maybe, though. Traveling is so treacherous. I can’t make promises, not even to myself.
No, this is goodbye.
A lump forms in my throat as tears burn in my eyes. I could stay. I could try to forget about Knox and try to make a life here with these people—with Tyler.
I nearly scoff at the idea of forgetting my brother. Not a day goes by where I don’t think about him or shame myself for leaving him back in Texas to deal with our prick of a father all alone. I’ll never be able to let it go. I’ll always wonder. And if I don’t look for him and Knox is alive, he’ll think I’m dead. That makes my chest ache too.
There’s only one answer here.
I have to go.
Tyler will eventually get over my leaving. He has to. It’s the only way—even if it breaks two hearts in the process. There’s no room in this world for love.
Family and survival.
Here, Tyler will have both, and it’s the best gift I could ever give him.