The old man turned to watch Derek emerge from hiding and gave a low whistle as he joined the rest of them. “You four make for a tight little operation. Military family?”

  “Just Derek and me,” Caleb said. “At least at first. If we’re not going to have trouble, then—mind if we take a bit of that firewood? We’ve been walking a while.”

  For a moment, the old man looked them over, considering, until finally he shook his head. “No need for all that. Grab a few logs and come on inside. May as well have some cover. I’ve got some frozen stew I can put on the fire. Nothing especially flavorful—my wife was the cook in the family—but it’ll fill a belly. I’m Chester. Chester Mayhew. Sorry for the song and dance. These days... well, you all look like you know how it goes out there.”

  Lana followed Derek to collect some wood as her parents went inside with Chester. “That worked out,” he muttered as they collected an armful of rough chopped wood each. “Be nice to have some decent shelter again for a night or two.”

  “You say that now.” Lana turned toward the little porch, arms weighed down with wood. She glanced back at Derek. “But I’ll bet you a day’s rations he turns out to be a creepy old cannibal.”

  Derek chuckled and they ducked inside.

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  ELIZABETH

  Mayhew Residence, Outside Odessa, MO

  Thursday, July 19th, 11:02 pm CST

  The warmth of Chester’s home hit Elizabeth square in the chest as she followed the older man inside. So far, every building they’d scavenged through, every place they’d sought shelter for a few hours, had looked a lot like the rest of the world seemed to—dusty, worn out, on the verge of collapse. Even the house at the little chicken farm had been cold and dead inside.

  Chester’s home, though, still seemed alive. As he moved through the kitchen, he lit a few candles and switched on a camping lantern that shed a soft orange-yellow light around the room. Pictures hung on walls covered in flower-printed wallpaper.

  One aged photo showcased a woman in a lace-covered wedding dress and a tall young man with a pompadour haircut that she assumed was Chester and his wife. There were several of the two of them, hung in mismatched frames, snapshots of a long life together. Further out were pictures of children, then teenagers, then whole new families. Chester’s children and grandchildren.

  It was no wonder he was still here. This was where his family was.

  A row of antique looking commemorative plates spread across the top of the dark wood cabinets, brass knobs and pulls gleaming warm in the light. It was a bit chilly, but nothing like the freezing temperature outside.

  Elizabeth felt the weight of the world momentarily slip off her shoulders. She sagged against the edge of the counter before noticing Chester watching her. “Thank you for inviting us in.” She nodded at the pictures. “Your family?”

  Chester smiled. “My Betsy,” he confirmed, pointing at the wedding photo. “Our three kids, William, Leanne, and Wilma. Six grandchildren...”

  He trailed off and cleared his throat as Lana and Derek came through the door with firewood in their arms. “Let me show you the fireplace.” He waved them toward a door at the far corner of the kitchen. “It’s just this way.”

  Elizabeth stepped aside as the two of them followed, and found herself studying the photos again, her heart aching for the old man. “I hope they’re okay,” she said softly as Caleb came to put an arm around her.

  He looked over the picture wall but gave no reply; just pressed his lips to her temple and gave her a gentle squeeze before urging her to follow the others.

  The wall in the kitchen wasn’t the only one decorated with pictures. They seemed to cover most of the walls. A few were framed bits of children’s art, but most were more family photos. There were a few of the house at different periods of its life as well.

  She wondered how long Chester and his family had lived in the place. The hallway off the kitchen opened into the front of the house, where a wide foyer met a set of stairs to the upper floor and a large doorway led to a formal dining room on one side and a grand living room on the other.

  That was where Chester had led Derek and Lana, and they were already kneeling by the fireplace to stack wood there when she and Caleb came in.

  “Feel free to have a seat.” Chester waved at the old sofas and chairs in the room. “I’ll go fish a few tubs of stew from the cellar. Freezer gave out when the grid went down, but then the cold settled in and, well—small blessings, eh?”

  Elizabeth smiled at him when he grinned and watched him go.

  “It’s a nice place.” Caleb eased onto the couch. “Has that wrap around porch you always wanted.”

  She snorted quietly as she sank beside him. Stylized flowers covered thick fabric, the cushions firm. It reminded her of her grandmother’s couches. She supposed Chester would be about her age, in his seventies at the least. “Hard to remember what I wanted, honestly. It’s fair to say that’s changed at this point, certainly.”

  Caleb stretched his arm out along the top of the sofa behind her and she leaned into him. They sat quietly for a time while Lana and Derek got the fire going. In short order, the flames began to flicker to life and slowly creep their way along the wood. By the time it was a proper fire, Chester had returned with a Dutch oven and a small stack of plastic containers.

  “So,” he said as he began prying the lids off and pushing frozen cubes of stew into the metal pot, “where you folks from? Kansas City?”

  “Greensboro, North Carolina.”

  Chester glanced up at him and whistled. “Long way to go in all this. Haven’t been very far from home myself since it all came down. Imagine it must be pretty bad out that way.”

  “It is,” Lana agreed as she sat. Derek joined her. “And everything between here and there isn’t great, either.”

  “You’re lucky.” Elizabeth nodded at Chester. “We’ve seen a lot of houses that got flattened by the storms.”

  “Lucky’s the word,” Chester agreed, putting the cover over the Dutch oven. He lifted a handle on the sides of it and pried a black iron hook away from the wall beside the fireplace, then hung the pot carefully from it before swinging it around so that the pot hung over the fire. “Hadn’t used this thing in fifty years. Only kept it for the rustic charm. Never would have guessed it would come in handy, but here we are.”

  He stood slowly, bracing himself against the wall. Bones cracked and popped like rice cereal hit with milk. Once he straightened, he trundled toward the smallest of the sofas and lowered himself into it carefully. “Built this house with my daddy about, oh... sixty something years ago now, when I was a kid. Good strong timber, solid foundation.”

  He let out a sigh. “You can’t see it at night, but my grandson did have to patch the roof where the wind peeled off some shingles and wrecked one of the beams, but other than that and some debris to clear off—branches and such, and all that ash, which can get heavy if you let it build up too much—no, the old house got through it okay. They don’t build ’em like this these days.”

  “Must not.” Caleb glanced at Lana. “So... you said your grandson was taken by Apex?”

  Chester’s lips twisted with disgust. “Taken in is more like. They came around a few weeks back, invited us to go to Kansas City. Did this whole song and dance about some special ID or another. They weren’t too keen on me, really, but they spent a lot of time with Walt—that’s my grandson, Walter; we call him Walt.”

  He reached for his pocket and pulled out a worn handkerchief. “Anyway, Walt was at the University of Kansas for about four years, doing some computer degree up until he got in a little over his head and had some trouble. I told his mama, let him come stay with me a while. You know, learn to slow down a bit, take some time away from the computers and phones and the Adderall, cause that was his problem really, and just sort of cool off and get it out of his system. He came out about two weeks before the world went to hell. I was glad he was here. Especially not knowing... well...”

  The ache returned to Elizabeth’s chest. “You don’t know what happened to the rest of your family?”

  The old man glanced at her, then gave a slow, sad shake of his head. “Soon as the first rocks came down, cell service went. I tried the land line, but even if it worked at first all my kids and grandkids are on cell phones, of course.” He turned his attention to the fire, looking away from them. “It’s hard enough when they all scatter to the corners of the world, you know. Now...”

  He trailed off and Elizabeth waited.

  After a few moments, he cleared his throat. “Well, in any case, Walt and I hunkered down. He wanted to hoof it up to Minneapolis, since that’s where his mama—my daughter, Leanne—lives. Wilma’s on the coast, in Oregon. The only one that stuck around nearby was William. He’s in St. Louis. I figured if I stayed put, he’d come around, but he hasn’t. Of course, he could still be on his way here, I suppose. Probably just can’t find the place without his phone to tell him where to go.”

  Elizabeth stared at him, her heart suddenly pounding. St. Louis. The hand she rested on Caleb’s thigh clutched automatically at his leg, and she felt him tense as well. Across the room, Lana and Derek shared a look, then turned their eyes to the floor. Clearly, Chester didn’t know. And how could he?

  It was possible the flash from the bomb was visible this far away, but it wouldn’t have been nearly as bright. And if he was alone, no one would have told him.

  “There’s no direct way to get anywhere out there,” Derek said. “And gas is in short supply. Too cold to walk very far. He’s probably had to take it a short trip at a time, is all.”

  Elizabeth stared for a moment at Derek. He was a good kid. The world hadn’t changed that.

  The old man waved a hand. “In any case, the Apex folks came around and took an interest in Walt. Told him he had skills they needed. I said it sounded like a load of horse puckey, and that if we left then his mama and his cousins, and Will and Wilma wouldn’t know where to find us. He said if they weren’t there by now, they were... they were either safer where they are or they... didn’t make it.:

  He shifted forward on the couch, grunting with effort. “I raised my kids strong. They made it. They just haven’t got here yet, is all. Still, Walt was tired of deer stew and chopping wood and doing all the things you have to do to live out here. So, off he went, just like that. Said he’d come around and check on me, but, well—grandkids say that sort of thing, these days. I hadn’t seen Walt for years before he came here. Haven’t seen him since. You folks aren’t the first I’ve seen passing through, but the only decent ones. Far as I can tell.”

  “Must be lonely.” The truth slipped out before Elizabeth could hold it back.

  He shrugged. “It was lonely before.”

  “Your wife passed?” Caleb asked.

  Chester’s head bobbed. “Ten years back. Alzheimer’s got her. Got her mother, too, and her grandmother—not that they called it that, of course, back then. The kids came around a bit after, of course, and they were here a lot during. But it’s expensive to come back and forth. Wilma wanted me to sell the place and move up north. I thought about it. Just can’t seem to let it go, though. Even now. My heart’s here. Know what I mean?”

  Caleb’s arm moved from the back of the sofa to Elizabeth’s shoulders. “I do. Thank you, again, for this hospitality. There’s not a lot of it left out there.”

  “If my Betsy knew I turned away decent folk at a time like this,” Chester said, chuckling, “she’d have me sleeping on the porch for a week myself to see how I liked it. Sorry again about the gun, loaded or not. Mind me asking, though, what hornet’s nest you kicked, exactly? I can’t say as I know much about Apex other than what they told us—the hard sell, I suspect, and less of the real story—but they pretty much left me alone after Walt went away with them.”

  He peered at Lana, the ghost of a grin on his lips. “You must have done some pretty serious ruffling to get them after you.”

  Lana’s chin lifted slightly, and she shot him a crooked smile. “I took a hostage.” Her smile faltered, though. “But only because I had to.”

  Chester grunted. “Well alright, then. Anyone... killed?”

  “No,” Caleb said. “Not this time. There’ve been others, though. It really is bad out there, Chester. Bad enough that this might not be the safest place for you. It’s lucky it was us knocking on your door.”

  “I’m sure that’s true,” the old man agreed. He sighed and looked around the room as if he could see the memories of the place in the air around him. “Fact is, though, I’m an old, old man. Eighty-five sometime soon. Not quite sure what day it is. Heck, I might be eighty-five.” He chuckled and shook his head. “I might go any day. If I get to choose, I’d rather be here when it happens.”

  “We understand,” Elizabeth said before Caleb could argue with the man. “Especially right now, not much is as important as home.”

  “There was never anything quite as important as that,” Chester pointed out. “Sometimes takes this sort of trouble to remind us.”

  “That said,” Caleb said carefully, “when we leave here, we’re bound for Colorado. A place called Springfield. It’s not Apex, but we’ve heard they’ve got something good going on there. When we go, you’d be welcome to come with us. If you wanted.”

  Chester chuckled again, more ruefully. “You’d regret the invitation if you had to carry me on your back out there. We barely managed to fix the roof and I had help. No, I’m gonna sit tight where I am, I think. But I appreciate the invitation. Until then, though, you all are welcome to keep warm here. Speaking of—if one of you would be so kind as to stir that pot, we’ll consider that your rent paid.”

  “I got it.” Lana hopped up from the couch.

  They chatted for a while longer and learned more about Chester. Nothing remarkable, or even all that interesting. And yet, to Elizabeth, he might have been the most fascinating person alive. He told winding stories about nothing that went nowhere half the time, about his late wife, or his children. For an hour or so before they ate, and for about an hour after, it was easy to forget everything they’d been through and pretend they were just visiting an old family friend.

  Later, when Chester offered them real beds to sleep in, and extra blankets to help keep them warm, she tried to hang on to that feeling. If she could, she thought, then maybe rest would come easy.

  Maybe she could sleep without dreaming of blood and fury, destruction and running.

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CALEB

  Mayhew Residence, Outside Odessa, MO

  Friday, July 20th, 7:03 am CST

  Waking up in a semi-warm bed—the comfortable kind, rather than a military issue cot—even in a cold room, was disorienting. For the first few minutes, Caleb laid with his eyes closed, his arm draped over Elizabeth’s side, her arm clutching his, and it could easily have been a cold day in their old place before all of this.

  Reality broke in on his momentary nostalgia quickly enough, but when it did, he kept his eyes closed and pulled his wife closer, as if keeping her pressed against him might keep the fantasy near as well. It didn’t, of course. And there was no point in trying to escape reality.

  Elizabeth stirred before waking with a start. “Caleb?”

  “You didn’t sleep well.”

  She shook her head and snuggled a bit closer, her arm tightening around his. “Not really.”

  It seemed like a waste. They couldn’t stay here very long, he knew, but it would have been nice to get one night of real, peaceful, deep sleep that wasn’t disturbed by bad dreams or made shallow by a hyper-vigilant brain stuck in survival mode. “Me either. Barely light outside. Must be pretty early.”

  “Some time before work, then?” she asked.

  He smiled and pressed his lips to the place just behind her ear, sighing out breath over her chilled skin. In response, she moved against him, and made a soft little moan that he’d missed hearing. In a few moments there was new, old heat between them again, and they managed to forget about the world outside for just a little while longer.

  Afterward, Caleb left his wife alone to try and get some more rest if she was able and crept down the stairs to the main level of the house to find that they weren’t the only ones who’d woken up early. Chester was in the living room, an ancient looking percolator in hand as he stoked the fire.

  “Morning,” Chester said as Caleb came through the doorway. “Don’t look like you slept much.”

  Caleb shrugged. “Does anyone sleep much these days?”

  With a chuckle, Chester put the percolator down in the same pot he’d used for stew the night before and swung it into the fireplace to sit over the flames. “When you’re my age, you stop sleeping all that well even when the world isn’t trying to end.” He put a hand to his lower back and straightened from his task. “Still, I hoped you folks would get some good rest. The missus still asleep?”

  “Not really,” Caleb replied as he tracked sound from somewhere else in the house. Lana’s voice, he thought. “Are the others up?”

  Chester nodded and waved at the wall toward the kitchen. “They’re poking at that computer on the kitchen table.”

  Caleb’s heart skipped a beat, and he was on his feet and out of the living room in the next second, storming into the kitchen. “What are you thinking—”

  Lana gave him a flat look from behind some kind of box. “Good morning?”

  “It’s okay.” Derek held his hand up. “Chester had some wire meshing in his shed. I made a Faraday cage. No signal in or out. We’re okay.”

  “I know what it is.” Caleb’s breath slowed, but his pulse didn’t. “What time did you two get up? What time is it?”

  “Just about oh-six-hundred,” Derek reported. “There’s coffee.”