Chapter 2 #2
Ollie looked surprised, then her features relaxed into a small smile. “I’m glad I’m amusing.”
“I have a feeling you are way more than that, my friend. That’s a perfect definition, though. Perfect.”
“Now you come up with one.”
Elena sobered. “What?”
“What’s your definition?”
“Oh. Um . . . okay.” She thought, then grinned. “Preppers . . . um . . . preppers are people who look at a Costco’s largest pallet of canned goods and think, ‘Amateurs.’”
Ollie grinned. “I think mine’s better, but that’s not bad.”
“I’m glad you approve, thank you. Now, as I was saying, I grew up in a family of preppers. I learned all kinds of things survivalists would need to know to live.”
“Like what?”
“Oh wow.” Where to start? “From building a shelter with natural insulation and weatherproofing, to collecting, purifying, and storing water. And of course, gardening and foraging for food. I had to know what kinds of berries and mushrooms I could eat and which ones would make me sick. I can hunt and trap, but I’ll be honest—killing game isn’t my favorite thing to do. I’d rather be a vegetarian.”
Ollie smiled. “Me too.”
“But I can do it if I have to. And you have to know how to take care of yourself in an emergency. Before I went to nursing school, I already knew a bunch. Had been stitching up my family’s wounds and setting broken bones since I was a kid.”
“No way!”
“Yep.”
“That’s really cool.” Ollie frowned. “In a weird kind of way. What else?”
“Um . . . well, I had to learn how to defend myself, of course. Dad was trained as a black belt in various forms of martial arts, and he taught me and my sister.”
Ollie’s eyes widened. “So you’re a black belt?”
“I am.”
Piper came into the great room area. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to interrupt. I just came to scrounge for some food and something to drink.”
Ollie motioned to the leftovers in front of her. “Help yourself.”
“Or there’s some chicken salad,” Elena said, “cooked burger patties, and a rotisserie chicken in there if you need something with more sustenance.”
“A chicken salad sandwich sounds lovely, thanks.”
Ollie snorted. “Sully didn’t tell me about that stuff.”
Piper rolled her eyes. “Men. He probably didn’t notice.”
The woman busied herself making the sandwich, and Elena stood. “We’ll start tomorrow if you like,” she said to Ollie.
“I like.”
“Start what?” Piper asked, turning from the refrigerator to look at them.
“I want to learn to defend myself,” Ollie said. “Elena’s a black belt and is going to teach me.”
“Oh. How nice.” She hesitated and frowned at Ollie. “You think that’s a good idea, what with—”
“It’s a good idea,” Ollie said with a thread of steel in her tone.
Elena caught the undercurrent of words left unsaid but had no idea what it was about.
Piper nodded and looked at Elena. “You’re very kind.”
Elena gave a small shrug. “It’s what I do here with some of the vets. You wouldn’t think guys who’ve fought in wars would need help building confidence, but they do.”
“I can see that. Let me know if I can help. I’m not a black belt, but I am trained in self-defense.”
“I’ll do that.”
“Great. I’m going to eat and then do a little perimeter patrol.”
“Felicity Bowman has a kennel here where she trains dogs. Some are being trained for intruder protection, so that could be an option.”
“That would help, but the dogs can’t be everywhere.”
“True enough. Then have at it.”
Piper gave a small smile, grabbed her plate of food, and walked into the great room.
Ollie snapped her head toward Elena. “Wait a minute. Dogs?”
“Felicity was in the military and used to train dogs for things like sniffing out bombs, search and rescue, patrol, and so on. Now she does the same thing here and gives a portion of the sales of the dogs to the ranch.”
“That’s incredibly cool.”
“I think so too.”
“Could I see the kennels sometime?”
“Absolutely. She’d probably even put you to work if you want.”
The girl’s eyes went wide. “Learning to train dogs? I’m definitely in for that.”
“Probably cleaning kennels too.”
Ollie didn’t even blink. “Just tell me when.”
The more Elena talked to the teen, the more she liked her. And was reminded of herself in some ways. “I’ll let Felicity know. In the meantime, I’m going to let you get some sleep. I need some too.”
“Thanks, Elena.”
She waved goodbye to Ollie and Piper and walked back to her home. Once inside, she stepped over to the bookcase on the wall next to her television. A whole display of bird carvings greeted her. This was what she wanted to show Ollie.
A memory slipped in. She’d been thirteen years old.
They’d been at this new compound in Tennessee for only about a month and already she hated it.
She’d been down by the river taking a break from cutting firewood, her feet in the cold shallow water.
Sweat dripped from her temples, and she thought about dunking her whole body.
But then it might look like she was goofing off and Papa LaRoche wouldn’t like that.
He’d make her dad punish her. She swiped a tear and swallowed hard.
Her father had changed in the last two weeks and not for the better.
“Eleanor?”
She jumped out of the water and slipped her feet back into her shoes. She grabbed the axe and another piece of wood and set it on the chopping stump.
Her father stepped into view, walking down the path, hands in his pockets. She held the axe at her side and scrubbed a rivulet of sweat from her chin. “What is it, Dad?”
“Can we talk?”
She tightened her grip around the handle, then dropped the axe to the ground. “All right.”
He motioned to the rock she’d just scrambled from. She walked over to it and took a seat. He did the same next to her. “You’re not happy here,” he said.
Be honest? Or lie? She sighed. “No. Mom isn’t either.”
“I know.” He patted her hand. “I think it’s just because you need to get used to it. Iris has adjusted well.”
“She’s Iris. She likes this kind of life.”
“You don’t.”
“I hate it.” She almost flinched when the words left her lips. She’d already learned not to express her real feelings to anyone. Not here. “I miss my friends.” She missed her life. She looked up at him. “Why did we come here?”
“Because we were invited. It’s a good opportunity for me. For our family’s future.”
“You never really explained why we were moving. Can you tell me more details? Like what kind of future? What kind of opportunity?”
He raked a hand over his head and looked out across the river.
Toward the town she’d give anything to escape to.
“It’s hard to explain. In Virginia, I was passed over for a promotion in the group.
Kimbell played favorites. And I wasn’t on his list of favorites.
” Kimbell, one of the leaders of that sect.
“I . . . It made me furious. I felt betrayed. I reached out to LaRoche, and he urged me to come here, said he had a high-ranking position I’d be perfect for. ”
“I see.”
He nodded. “Now I have a position here that I like. I’m in charge of making sure we have what we need to survive when the government finally has full control of everything. Our money, our land, our medical care, even our thoughts at some point if they have their way.”
“And you want to stay here.” It wasn’t a question.
“For now.”
“And you agree with the way LaRoche runs this place?”
He sighed. “Not everything. No. But it takes a strong leader to make sure an entire group of people are cared for. So, for now, I’m willing to overlook some of his . . . idiosyncrasies.”
She nodded, her heart pounding with dismay, fear . . . anger. “Okay.”
He dug into his pocket, pulled out one of his carvings, and handed it to her. “I made this for you last night.” The little wooden bird sat weightless in her palm.
She traced the fragile beak with the tip of her dirty finger. “It’s beautiful, Dad, thank you.”
“It’s an indigo bunting. If you haven’t seen them around here, you’ve heard them singing. The males are all blue and the females are brown.”
“Why are the females always the ugly color?”
He smiled. “Not ugly, they just have a different kind of beauty. And that beauty serves a different purpose. They’re actually perfectly designed. God gave them softer colors so they’d blend into the trees and stay safe with their eggs and then their young.”
“Oh.” She studied the bird again. “I think this one is a female.” She glanced at him from the corner of her eye. “I’m going to need her babies to go with her.”
He laughed and hugged her. “Noted. Now, finish chopping your wood.” He glanced at his watch. “I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes.”
She nodded. “Thanks, Dad.”
“See you at dinner.”
Elena sucked in a ragged breath and blinked her den back into view.
Not all her memories were bad. She set the bird back on the shelf.
When she packed her backpack the night she fled the compound, she’d taken six of the carvings with her.
Her favorites. Was he still making them?
If he was, did he think of her as he worked?
Tears threatened and she forced them back.
She didn’t know why she was so melancholy tonight.
Maybe Ollie reminded her of herself just a little too much.
She walked outside and stood on her porch, taking in the darkness.
She’d always thought it peaceful. Her very own weighted blanket that wrapped her in a cocoon of velvety black.
But tonight, for whatever reason, the familiar hush unsettled her. It was too still. Too quiet.
Threatening.
As if danger was already stalking them, just waiting to pounce.