Page 9 of Beacon

Mack is in the kitchen as he said he’d be. He’s wearing sweats and an old T-shirt, having clearly taken a shower during the time I was sitting on the porch. His feet are bare, and he’s stirring something in a pot on the stove eye.

“That smells good,” I tell him as I load my clothes in the small machine that’s obviously the washer. I add detergent, close the lid, and study the controls until I can figure out how to turn it on.

“Rabbit stew. Went hunting this morning.”

I watch as he dumps a couple of cans into the pot. Pearl onions and mixed vegetables.

“There was still a bunch of food stocked up here,” he explains. “The canned and dehydrated stuff is still good.”

“Nice. Chloe said her grandpa was a major prepper and had years of food and supplies stocked up. I’m sure everyone thought he was completely out of his mind before Impact.”

“Yep.” He’s focused on his pot, not even glancing at me. “Expect the worst all the time and eventually you’re gonna be right.”

The words are true. Of course they are. But they don’t sound like him at all.

And it hurts.

My throat closes up. “Mack.” The one word comes out soft and raspy. Almost a plea.

He ignores it completely.

When he’s done with the stew, he scoops it into two bowls, thrusts one in front of me at the small table, and then takes his to the other seat.

We eat in silence for a minute. The stew is really good. He must have salt and pepper here.

The silence gets to me, and with a surge of frustration, I decide I’m not going to give in to it.

So I start to talk. And I keep talking even though Mack doesn’t reply with more than an occasional grunt.

I tell him all the news I can think of about our friends back home.

Halbrook is now the biggest town in the area with a thriving school, two churches, and a clinic. Esther, who we met by chance on a trip we were making a few years ago, is now the principal of the school and also newly pregnant with her and Zed’s second child.

Layne and Travis are still living in their little cabin in the mountains, but they’re planning to move to Halbrook within the next year because their oldest, Abigail, is now five and will need to attend school soon. They’ve also got a three-year-old boy named Michael, a one-year-old boynamed Benjamin, and are pregnant with their fourth, so they can’t live so isolated anymore.

Grant and Olivia just had their second child. Gabe and Emily both have eyes as blue as their father’s. The bunker community has established themselves as an organized town, and a couple of months ago they elected Grant as the mayor.

New Haven Farm has doubled in size from when we first met Faith and Jackson five years ago. Their little girl is starting to say her first words. She was sickly for the first few months of her life, but she’s doing better now. Kate and Miguel are pregnant again. Sweet, little Langley decided to join up with Maria’s crew for a year, and Ham has had three different girlfriends in the time Mack has been gone.

Cal and Rachel still live up on their mountain when they’re not traveling.

I spill out all this as we eat our meal, keeping on despite the supreme lack of response from Mack.

He’s known all these people for years. All of them would count Mack as one of their favorite people and closest friends. And he acts like he’s barely listening to the news on how they’re doing.

Refusing to give in to exasperation, I keep my tone friendly and conversational. We’ve both finished eating before I’m done talking.

When I finally run out of things to say, Mack is motionless across the table from me, staring blankly.

“Mack, please,” I finally ask in almost a whisper. “Why are you acting this way?”

He gets up from his seat, picking up my bowl and spoon in addition to his own. “Plan to leave first thing tomorrow morning.”

And that’s it. He doesn’t say anything else the whole evening.

I go to bed as soon as my clothes are dry, and I’m tired enough to actually sleep.

Part of me wants to be stubborn and stay, whether Mack wants me here or not. But with the way he’s acting, that may do more harm than good. And it’s clear he’s not planning to escort me back to safer territory, so I need to reach Cal and Rachel before midday tomorrow if I hope to survive and get home.

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