“I’ll save you the suspense,” teased Cole. “You’ll be back there chopping wood again within the week.”
“I don’t think she has enough wood to last the week,” said Billy, remembering the numerous fires burning throughout the mansion.
“See,” laughed Cole, “you’re already considering it!”
“No I’m not,” argued Billy.
“So where’s your axe then?”
“I must have left it at her house.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know,” mumbled Billy.
“I do,” sneered Cole. “It’s for one of two reasons.”
“Enlighten me,” said Billy.
“Either you intend to go back for it, or you didn’t want her to be alone without the ability to chop her own firewood. In which case you’ll go back anyway, just to make sure she’s alright and knows how to use the axe. I know you dude,” laughed Cole. “We’re not that different you and I.”
“Maybe your right,” agreed Billy. Somehow his cousin always had a way of pointing out the obvious, in a way that didn’t make Billy feel like he was being interrogated. Cole was right, and Billy knew it. There was no way that he could just abandon Dakota, as her friends had done. Billy knew the bitter reality of abandonment and wouldn’t wish it upon anyone, let alone a girl as pretty and innocent as Dakota.
When they reached the Daisy Mart a brawl had just broken out between two of the refugees. The two men were fighting over the last stick of deodorant and it wasn’t even a man’s deodorant, it was made for a woman. Both men appeared dirty and unkempt. One man was tall and lean, while the other was short and stocky. Both had dark brown hair with light brown eyes and olive toned skin. Dark, curly chest hair protruded from their shirts and aside from their difference in height and size, they looked remarkably similar.
“I had it first,” shouted the shorter man, as they wrestled on the ground, fighting for the stick of deodorant.
“I saw it first!” screamed the taller one.
“Let go,” hissed the short one.
“No! You let go!”
“Both of you let go,” said Ian, standing above the men with a shotgun cradled in his arms. The two men stared up at Ian’s stern face and the twin barreled shotgun, which he carried as though it were an extension of his body. They immediately let go of the stick of deodorant and scrambled to their feet. “We don’t tolerate trouble makers around here,” continued Ian. “What are your names?”
“I’m Richie DeLuca,” exclaimed the taller of the two men.
“And I’m Lenny DeLuca,” said the shorter man.
“Sounds like an Italian name,” observed Ian. “Are you two related?”
“We’d better be,” smiled Lenny, “either that or our mother has some explaining to do.”
“We’re brothers,” explained Richie, “and yes we’re Italian.”
“You fight like your enemies,” observed Ian, “and for what, a stick of women’s deodorant?”
“Hey,” exclaimed Lenny, “the label says it’s strong enough for a man.”
“All the more reason why I should get it,” teased Richie. “You’re not a man yet,” he added, looking down at his shorter brother, “you still have more growing to do!” He held out the palm of his hand above his younger brother’s head, displaying how short he was in comparison to himself.
Lenny didn’t respond. He simply punched his older brother in the mouth, splitting his lip.
“Ouch!” Richie shouted, gently wiping blood from his lip. “That was uncalled for!”
“Alright, cut it out,” said Ian, stepping between the two men. “You sure don’t act like brothers, or maybe you do,” he added, after a moment of reflection. “The way you’re carrying on, you’re gonna need more than deodorant when you’re finished. If you can’t share the deodorant, than neither of you get it.”
“See what you did!” Exclaimed Richie, his hand still held to his bleeding lip.
“Me? It’s your fault, you ugly…” Lenny stopped midsentence, gazing passed his brother at Jessie. “Never mind, you can have it,” he said, walking around Richie towards Jessie. “How do you do ma’am,” he said, bowing slightly. “My name is Lenny DeLuca, and I’m in love.”
“Nice to meet you Lenny,” giggled Jessie. “My name is Jessica Hunt, and I’m in love too, but not with you.”
“You see,” said Richie, pushing his younger brother aside, “she wants a real man, someone who can help her reach the top shelf of the cupboard.”
“Actually,” said Jessie, “I’ve already got a real man. In fact, you’ve already met him,” she nodded towards Ian standing behind the two brothers, the shotgun still cradled in his arms. The stern look on his face had changed to amusement.
The clicking sound from shotgun’s hammers being drawn back caused both of the brothers to freeze in anticipation. They turned back around to face Ian, a little less cocky than before. “I’ve had just about enough of you two,” said Ian. “I was gonna let the deodorant thing slide, but now you’re getting on my nerves.”
Lenny looked at the shotgun in Ian’s hands and swallowed. “You’re not gonna let him get away with hitting on your woman are you?” he asked, nodding toward his brother Richie.
“And what a woman,” whistled Richie, as he appraised Jessie’s body from head to toe.
“Alright, that’s it,” said Ian, lifting the shotgun. “You two are coming with me. Maybe a night in jail will teach you some manners. Move it!” Using his shotgun, Ian herded the brothers toward the door.
“Well,” laughed Lenny, looking up at Richie, “at least we’ve got a place to sleep tonight.”
“Do you need any help?” asked Lt. Colonel Kye Williams, who was standing amongst the crowd of spectators.
“No I think I can handle these two,” replied Ian, “but thanks. How’s your leg? Has the doctor been taking good care of you?”
“Yes,” smiled Kye, leaning on the crutch Dr. July had given him for his sprained ankle. “I’m just excited to get off of this thing and back into the fight.”
“I can understand that,” said Ian. “Lord knows we can use you.”
“Please let me know if there’s anything I can assist with. I hate feeling so helpless and useless.”
“Of course,” agreed Ian. “I suppose you could help out with guard duty, if you feel up to it?”
“I’d be happy to,” smiled Kye. “It’ll give me something to do.”
“Alright then,” agreed Ian, “come with me and I’ll show you the way.”
World War III – Day Seventeen
The Shooting Star, Pacific Ocean
The Shooting Star glided up the coast of California, within sight of the Redwood Forest. The dense tree line extended to jagged cliffs, which dropped to the ocean below. Having never seen the Redwoods, Cleo was awe struck by their enormous size. Using binoculars, she could see roots from the massive trees protruding from the face of the cliff, and dangling hundreds of feet above the crashing waves below. The forest was covered in a thick layer of fog, with gigantic treetops rising out of the mist. It was beyond majestic.
After leaving San Francisco behind, the Shooting Star had been caught in another storm and carried out to sea. This was the first time any of them had seen land for a couple of days and relief washed over them.
“Isn’t it amazing?” asked Lex, standing at the helm of the sailboat.
“It’s so beautiful,” said Cleo. “I’ve never seen anything like it, have you?”
“My parents brought me here once when I was young,” he replied. “Of course it was during the summer, I’ve never seen it like this. Those trees are some of the oldest in existence. I remember my folks driving our station wagon straight through one of the larger trees. The trunk of the tree had a hole cut out the size of a car, with a road paved through its center.”
Cleo scanned the forest of gargantuan trees, standing hundreds of feet tall. Even from this distance she could tell that some of the trees were so large it would take more than thirty men holding hands to form a circle around their trunks.
The sheer cliffs continued to the south, but to the north dropped drastically to a sandy beach. She could see dozens of sea lions lying on the rocks a hundred yards from the shore, barking with delight and basking in the sun. A part of her wanted to swim out and join them, but the temperature had been slowly dropping the farther north they sailed and the water was frigid cold. So instead she stood watching, as mist rolled over the vertical cliff and dropped to the jagged rocks below.
“That’s odd,” observed Lex.
“What is?” she asked.
“The way the mist is rolling over the edge like a waterfall. It looks like it’s headed this way, as if some unseen force is blowing it out to sea.”
“You’re right,” agreed Cleo. “It’s kind of eerie.”
“It reminds me of the movie, Return of the Jedi,” said Lex.
“Which part?” Cleo asked, lowering the binoculars and gazing into Lex’s blue eyes.
“The part with the Forest Moon of Endore, where the Ewoks lived in their village,” replied Lex, taking a deep breath of the fresh, salty air. “In fact, I believe this is where they filmed part of the movie.”
“It’s so majestic and beautiful,” said Cleo. “I wish I could see more of it!”
“I’d like to show you,” said Lex.
“Good morning,” greeted Jesse, emerging from the cabin below. “I see you’ve found land.”
“Yeah,” replied Lex, “but I was gonna let you guide us in if that’s alright? Seeing as how you have more experience.”
“Of course,” agreed Jesse, taking Lex’s place at the helm.
“How’s my mom doing?”
“Much better,” replied Jesse. “The medicine seems to be helping and her fever is almost entirely gone.”
“That’s bloody brilliant,” cheered Cleo.
“Yep,” agreed Jesse. “She’s even got her appetite back. Jillian is making her some soup right now.”
“Oh good,” said Lex, relieved that his mother was finally on the mend.
“Keep a close eye out,” advised Jesse, as he steered the sailboat into a dense cloud of fog.
Lex glanced behind them and for a brief moment thought he saw another ship following, but as they disappeared into the fog he lost sight of the vessel.
“What’s wrong?” asked Cleo.
“I thought I saw something,” replied Lex. “It must have been my imagination.”
Cleo turned and peered into the mist behind them. “I don’t see anything. What did it look like?”
“I thought I saw another ship following us,” said Lex, “but then it disappeared. Now I can’t see anything. Maybe I’m just being paranoid.”
“Just because you can’t see them, doesn’t mean they aren’t there,” said Jesse.
“And just because you’re paranoid, doesn’t mean they aren’t after you,” added Cleo.
“If there is something back there it can’t hide in the mist forever,” pointed out Lex, his gaze still fixated on the water behind them.
“Are you guys’ hungry?” Cleo asked.
“Yes,” said Jesse. “I can smell Jillian’s soup from here.”
“I could eat,” agreed Lex, a chill running down his spine. “Some hot soup would be perfect to combat this cold weather.”
“I’ll be right back then,” said Cleo, casting a wink at Lex.
Cleo opened the hatch and descended the stairs, the smell of potato soup wafting up from the cabin below. “Yummy, something smells good.”
“I made potato soup topped with bits of bacon, chives and cheddar cheese,” said Jillian. “Would you like a bowl?”
“Yes please,” replied Cleo, her stomach grumbling from the aroma. “And so would the fellas up top.”
“It’s positively delicious!” Said Beth, in between spoonful’s of soup.
“It smells like it,” agreed Cleo. “How are you feeling today? You’ve had a bad fever and given us quite a scare.”
“I feel much better,” said Beth, ladling another spoonful of soup. “Although I do have a headache and I feel like I haven’t eaten in days.”
“That’s because you haven’t,” observed Cleo. “You’ve been asleep for a couple of days now. We stopped in San Francisco and found some antibiotics, based on your appetite I’d say they’re helping.”
“They must be,” agreed Beth. “I feel so much better!”
“Here,” said Jillian, handing Beth an aspirin and a bottle of water, “take this for your headache.”
“Thank you dear,” replied Beth, graciously accepting the pill.
“Sure,” said Jillian, turning back to the stove and the steaming pot. She filled three bowls with soup and placed them on a tray, along with a plate full of crackers, before handing the tray to Cleo.
“Thanks,” said Cleo, accepting the tray and sniffing the delicious aroma.
“My pleasure,” smiled Jillian. She then opened a small bottle and handed Beth another pill. “Here honey, you should take your antibiotic with your food.”
“Thank you,” giggled Beth. “I feel so special, with both of you doting on me.”
“You’re worth it love,” said Cleo.
“Where’s my son?”
“He’s up top with Jesse,” answered Cleo. “I was just about to bring him something to eat. Would you like me to send him down?”
“Let him eat first,” said Beth. “He needs his strength. You love him, don’t you?” she asked, gazing deep into Cleo’s eyes.
“Um, well, yes, yes I do,” she said, a little taken off guard by the question. She felt strange telling Beth how she felt about her son, especially when she hadn’t even told Lex yet.
“Does he know?”
“I haven’t told him,” replied Cleo, the feeling of awkwardness growing by the second.
“You should,” said Beth, “and the sooner the better. It’s not one of those things you want to take to your grave.”
“That’s good advice,” observed Cleo, “although I don’t intend to die anytime soon.”
“Intentions have got nothing to do with it my darling,” replied Beth. “God alone knows the hour of our departure.” She paused for a moment, “Does Lex love you?”
Cleo hesitated before answering. “Yes, I believe he does.”
“He hasn’t told you?”
“Well, not exactly,” said Cleo. “He said the words when he discovered that I had a satellite phone, but I think he was just relieved we could call back home and get help regarding your illness. At the time it seemed as though the words just slipped out. I’m not sure he actually meant it.”
“If Alexander told you he loves you, he meant it,” said Beth, stirring the soup with her spoon. “Regardless of whether or not he was excited at the time, I assure you he meant every word,” she added matter of fact. “To my knowledge he’s never told anyone he loves them.”
“But he seemed so nervous after saying it,” pointed out Cleo. “Almost as though the words slipped out before he realized what he was saying.”
“Of that I’ve no doubt,” laughed Beth. “As I said, he’s never felt that way about anyone, until now. The realization of how he felt probably surprised him more than you.”
“But he hasn’t said it again,” said Cleo.
“Perhaps he’s waiting for you to say something in return? It’s hard for a man to put himself out there, especially when he doesn’t know if you feel the same way. If I were in your shoes, I’d tell him how I feel. Life’s too short for leaving things unsaid.”
“Maybe you’re right,” agreed Cleo.
“Of course I’m right honey, with age comes wisdom. And remember, I raised the boy and probably now him better than anyone. Sometimes I think I may know him better than he knows himself.”
“Thanks for the advice,” said Cleo, casting a smile at Beth. “Well, I’d better bring the boys their soup before it gets cold.” Carrying the tray with both hands, Cleo carefully climbed the steps to the deck. She found Lex and Jesse standing at the helm, discussing the best place to go ashore.
“Your mum is awake and eating,” she Cleo, offering Lex a bowl of soup. “She seems to be feeling much, much better,” she added.
“Thank God,” replied Lex, accepting the bowl. “I’ve been so worried.” He stirred the soup in silence, watching as steam rose from its surface and disappeared into the mist, before ladling a spoonful and scooping it into his mouth. “Thanks,” he said, dipping a saltine cracker into the soup, “it’s delicious!”
“No worries mate,” smiled Cleo, as she sat down beside Lex and gently blew on her soup. The three of them sat there quietly, eating their soup and enjoying the stunning view provided by God.
When they’d finished eating, Cleo stood up and began collecting the empty bowls, when Jesse stopped her.
“Here, allow me,” he offered, taking the tray of empty bowls from Cleo. “I’ll clean up, you two relax.”
With Jesse gone, Cleo considered what Beth had told her about love and leaving nothing unsaid. She began to silently rehearse what she’d say and how she’d say it. Timing was everything, what if she told Lex that she loved him and he didn’t say it back? She’d never been in love before and wasn’t sure if she could handle his rejection. She finally decided the best policy was to just come out and say it.
Cleo closed her eyes and counted to three, “Lex?”
“Yes Cleo,” he said, smiling down at her.
“I, I love…” Before she could finish the words, Lex jumped to his feet.
“Look!” he shouted, pointing in the direction from which they’d come. “There they are!”
Cleo quickly followed Lex’s gaze, squinting into the heavy fog that had enveloped them. It took her eyes a minute to focus, when all of a sudden she saw it. From out of the mist a Russian destroyer was approaching from the south. She could see the white, foamy wake left in the vessel’s path, as it headed straight for them at full speed.
“We can’t outrun them,” said Cleo. “What are we gonna do?”
“We’re gonna abandon ship,” answered Lex.
“What?”
The canvas sail of the Shooting Star was already up and blowing in the wind. Lex quickly started the engine to increase their speed, even if only by a little. “Get below deck and warn everyone!” Lex ordered, as he guided the sailboat toward the shore and the jagged rocks covered with sea lions.
“The water is ice cold and full of sharks!” said Cleo. “And even if it wasn’t, we’re too far from the shore for an open water swim. We’ll never make it!”
“You aren’t swimming,” replied Lex, gripping the helm with both hands. “I’m gonna get in as close as I can. I need you to get everyone into the dinghy, along with all of our supplies.”
“But what about you?” asked Cleo, her eyes heavy with worry.
“Once you’re in the dinghy and cloaked by the fog, I’ll lead the destroyer out to sea and away from the rest of you,” replied Lex.
“But they’ll catch you! Or even worse, blow you out of the water,” complained Cleo. “It’ll never work!”
“It’s our only chance,” said Lex. “Now go!”
“I’m not leaving you alone!”
“He won’t be alone,” said Jesse, emerging from the cabin below. “I’m staying too.”
“But…”
“Go!” Lex shouted, as he and Jesse quickly deployed the dinghy.
“Do you think they’ll blow us out of the water?” Lex asked Jesse, after Cleo had disappeared below deck.
“I don’t think so,” replied Jesse, as the two men lowered the dinghy into the water, “but there’s no telling. If they wanted to destroy us they could have already done so, we’re well within range. No, I think they mean to board us.”
“To hell with that!” Lex had heard stories of the Russian prison camps and had no desire of visiting. To be perfectly honest, he’d rather die than be sent to one of the Gulags.