The Journal: Raging Tide: (The Journal Book 4) (22 page)

“In a minute. I want to turn the generator
on first and get the water heating,” I said. “I’m looking forward
to a long, hot bath tonight!”

“And ice cubes,” Jim joked. “Don’t forget
the ice cubes!”

With the power back on, the garage door
opened smoothly. Jim backed the trailer in and we disconnected it
from the Hummer. “It makes sense to keep the trailer out of sight
even if there isn’t anyone around.”

We emptied the Hummer quickly, leaving only
the empty cooler, the chainsaw, and the tent in the back. The
weather had gotten cooler and we’d need our sleeping bags
tonight.

*

“So what’s our plan of action, Colonel?” I
asked as we sat at the kitchen island with a cup of steaming hot
soup.

“I think we should load up the cases of wine
and the liquor first, and put the food in last,” he said. “Yes, I’m
being selfish, Allex, but by God we’ve earned that booze and we’re
keeping it. The food we’ll decide what we want and give the rest to
the community kitchen. Agreed?”

“No argument from me. I doubt many in Moose
Creek would appreciate the quality of the wine downstairs. Not that
they couldn’t learn, but I’m not about to hold a teaching
wine-tasting party!” I laughed at the thought, and then sobered
when it reminded me of Bob and Kathy and how generous they had been
with me, especially with their friendship.

We lit up the basement and started hauling
the cases of wine to the parquet dance floor. I selected a couple
of bottles for our enjoyment during our stay and we each took a
case up the stairs to the waiting trailer.

“This is going to take us a while,” Jim
lamented.

“It is what it is, Jim. We can’t use the
dolly. Even two cases are too heavy for me to drag up the stairs,
and you’ve only got one hand for now. Don’t worry about it. We will
take however much time we need. If it takes two days or a week,
that’s okay. We’re only one day from home.”

Once I said that, the reality of our trip
coming to an end hit me hard. For all the trauma, the injuries, the
sorrow, the good and the bad events, it had been a remarkable
adventure, one that I would remember and cherish the rest of my
life.

*

A dozen cases of wine were now tucked into
the forward most area of the trailer. When everything was in, we’d
tie it down so it couldn’t slide in case of a sudden turn.

“There are still a dozen cases down there!
These people sure invested heavily into their habits,” Jim
observed.

“That’s what Bob and Kathy considered it
too: an investment. And one that brought them much pleasure,” I
said wistfully, thinking again about my friends.

“I’ve decided to do something I wasn’t going
to, Jim, and that’s clean out the refrigerator. If we’re going to
be here for a couple days I think we will be more comfortable with
that convenience. You might want to open a few windows and then
stay outside until I’m done. It’s bound to really stink.”

I put on a face mask doused with some
perfume from one of the guest rooms and cautiously opened the
refrigerator. Much to my surprise and delight, it was nearly empty.
A bottle of catsup and one of mustard sat in the door, and a hard
as rock slice of cheese in the drawer, that was it. I put the two
bottles and cheese in a garbage bag and tied it closed. We’d worry
about it later. I wiped the inside of the refrigerator down with
some cleaner from the bathroom and dragged the cooler over.

“Say, have you found a grill anywhere? We
have steaks for tonight,” I reminded Jim.

He eyed the plate I set the steaks on.
“Those are huge. Why don’t we split one tonight and the other
tomorrow?” he suggested.

“Excellent idea. I’ve been organizing the
downstairs pantry and found some canned potatoes. I thought those
mixed with some rehydrated onions and heated up on the grill in
foil packets would go well with the steaks.”

“Sounds good to me,” Jim said. “While I was
outside, I noticed some darker clouds in the west, and the wind was
picking up. We might want to cook early.”

I seasoned the single steak with salt and
pepper and set it back in the now cool refrigerator. The foil
packets were ready for the grill, too. I fixed Jim and me a drink
and stepped outside where he was starting the grill.

“How’s your hand feeling?” I asked, handing
him the vodka over ice.

“A bit sore. I think I overdid it today,” he
said. I noticed he had put the sling back on and was holding that
hand close to his body.

“It’s going to be that way for the next
couple of days, Jim, no matter what you do or don’t do, and it’s
going to take a month to heal. Do you want a pain pill? You can’t
have any more to drink if you take one though.”

“I think I’ll pass on the pill.” He lifted
his glass to me. “This tastes better.”

The storm struck during the night with a
fury I haven’t seen in a very long time. The wind howled through
the trees and the rain mixed with hail pounded on the glass.
Lightning flashed every few minutes, followed by deafening thunder.
The temperature took a nose dive and I snuggled deeper into my
sleeping bag.

JOURNAL ENTRY: May 15

I had hoped the storm last night would have washed
the ash out of the sky for a while. I was disappointed when all I
could see was more dark clouds and a steady flow of icy rain.

~~~

Jim was standing next to me while I stared
out into the gloom.

“Well, I suppose the good news is we don’t
have to go out in that mess,” he said.

The hot coffee warmed my still aching chest
as I sipped on my second cup.

“And without the temptation of a nice day,
we should get a lot of packing done,” I concurred.

“Anxious to get home, Allex?” Jim asked
without taking his eyes off the falling rain.

“Yes, and no,” I answered truthfully. “We’ve
been gone for over a month now, and I miss my family. Yet in spite
of all that has happened, I’m sorry to see our trip come to an end.
How about you?”

“I wouldn’t trade this past month for
anything. Especially point B,” he smiled and kissed me. I couldn’t
help but respond.

“That’s been a surprise bonus.” I returned
his smile and went back to the kitchen before the conversation
could get too serious.

“I think we should leave one, maybe two
cases of wine in the hidden cellar,” I said to Jim, “just in case
we make it back here someday.”

“I like that idea,” he answered. “Gives us
something to look forward to.”

We stacked more boxes of wine in the trailer
throughout the morning, and then tackled the liquor. The wine and
alcohol took up more than half of the small trailer.

“I didn’t realize there was this much to
go,” I said, gazing into the back of the packed hauler.

“Do we have enough boxes for all the loose
cans of food?” Jim asked.

“I doubt it. Maybe we should check out a
couple of the houses for more.” I opened a drawer in the kitchen
and removed the notebook I had so carefully kept of our finds, and
thumbed through the pages. Two houses held promise for some plastic
bins.

“We better wait until tomorrow, Allex, it
looks icy out there,” Jim said after opening the front door. All
the time we had spent in the basement and packing, I hadn’t once
looked outside, and now, everything had a thin coating of ice.

“Looks like another early dinner.” I wasn’t
really disappointed, it meant one more quiet evening together
before going back to reality. What was reality? Here and now? Or
there and then?

With the dinner dishes in the dishwasher, we
settled down in front of the fire and played cribbage until dark. I
lit a candle by the game board so we could continue after shutting
the gennie down for the night.

“Allex, I’m done with cards for the night,”
Jim said, and blew out the candle. “Let’s discuss point C…” His
voice was soft and seductive in the dark.

May 16

The day dawned cool and dreary, however, the
temps had climbed enough during the night to melt the coating of
ice, making it possible for us to do some scavenging.

“Brr! It’s chilly out there. I’m glad I
brought that hooded sweatshirt and gloves,” I said. I took a shower
early so my hair could dry, and dressed in jeans with a long
sleeved shirt. The belt with the holster had become as much a part
of my attire as my shoulder holster once had. And I must admit I
liked the belt holster better.

“You look different out of uniform,” Jim
remarked. “It’s going to take some getting used to.”

“I don’t see any reason to keep wearing the
fatigues when the chances are very slim we’ll run into anyone.” Jim
looked disappointed. “In another month you’ll be looking at
civilian clothes too.”

“I know. Still, you look good in a
uniform…and out of one, too.” He stepped closer and cupped my chin,
delivering a gentle and promising kiss. The display of affection
caught me off guard. I must admit though, it’s kind of nice and
something I’ve missed.

After I changed the tattered bandages on
Jim’s hand, adding plenty of antibiotic cream, we ventured out. The
pavement was wet where the ice had melted and the grass crunched
under our feet. Two doors down, where I had made notes of packing
material, was almost a quarter of a mile away. The air was crisp
and clean and felt good on my skin. Overhead, the clouds had
thinned, though I think the grayness was now something that would
be with us for a long time.

“Here it is,” I said, checking the address
against my pad of paper. “All I wrote down was ‘packing stuff’ and
quite honestly I don’t remember what I meant by that.”

“Only one way to find out,” Jim said and
pushed the door open. The place was a mess! We both drew our
guns.

“Someone has been here,” Jim whispered. That
was an understatement, considering every house we had been in was
neat and orderly, and we left them the same way. This one looked
ransacked.

We inched around the doorway, only to see
even more disarray. We cleared each room on the first level and
went upstairs. In the second room, we found them. Mickey, the young
man we met weeks ago when we first hit Hwy. 41, and presumably his
girlfriend, were in the bed, quite dead.

“From the dried vomit on their faces and the
pillows, my guess is they OD’d from pills, and it has been over a
week,” I said, walking around the bed to get a better look. “See
here, remains of gelatin capsules.”

“He seemed so content,” Jim commented,
somewhat disappointed.

“We don’t know what they’ve been through in
the last couple of weeks, and honestly, it could well have been
unintentional,” I said. “Let’s leave them be and get what we came
for.”

We found six new plastic tubs in the
basement, along with several rolls of duct tape. When the home
owners departed, they must have had these left over; they were
brand new. We loaded the boxes on the wagon we brought along and
headed back in silence, picking our way around the branches that
had come down in the last storm.

“We may have to do this in stages, Jim. One
of these bins filled with canned goods would be too heavy for me to
lift, let alone carry up the stairs,” I said. “If we fill one maybe
a third of the way, then set it in the trailer, we can keep filling
it from the next partial box until it’s full. What do you
think?”

“Sounds like a plan.” He let out a long
sigh. “I feel useless with only one hand. You’re doing all the work
and I don’t like it.”

“You’re doing your share, Jim. I’ll bring
these up once they’re filled and you can fill the one in the
trailer while I get another. We’re just adapting to the
circumstances.”

The two of us filled all six bins first with
enough for me to carry. We set the first one in the trailer and I
brought up another, then another, and I took the empty back down
with me. By the time I had brought up all six, Jim was unpacking
the fourth one. That gave me time to refill the emptied bins. Two
hours later we had moved all of the canned goods into the trailer
and secured them. We even took a couple of the heavier blankets
from the house to tuck around the boxes. Blankets would always be
useful.

“This is going to be one heavy load, Jim.
Please tell me the Hummer is up to the task.”

“More than up to it, Allex. These vehicles
haul artillery around like it’s not even there,” Jim reassured me.
“Are you up to driving it? Our next leg is a long haul.”

“I’ll be fine,” I said confidently, even
though I didn’t quite feel it. “I kept out a box of linguini and a
can of baby clams. Linguini with clam sauce would make a fitting
dinner for our last night.”

“Last night,” Jim repeated.

“It does feel strange, doesn’t it? We’ve
been gone more than a month and now we’ll be back home tomorrow. I
know I should be exhilarated, though I’m not. I’m going to miss
this. For all the bad that’s happened there was also so much that
was wonderful.” I turned to him, waiting for him to affirm the good
we’ve shared.

“What are we going to do, Allex? About
us
?” He posed the question we both had on our minds yet were
afraid to ask.

“I don’t know, Jim. Maybe we should let it
play out on its own. I have a feeling that if we wait, it will all
become clear. The solution is there, I know it. I just can’t see it
yet.”

This was how I really felt, I realized. The
solutions to these dilemmas always,
always
presented
themselves at the right time. I slid my arms around his waist,
resting my head against his chest, and we held each other for a
long moment. I have so missed this kind of touch. Initially I felt
a wave of guilt, then I reminded myself that Mark was dead, not me,
and I was still a woman with wants and needs of my own.