Last Light

  After a grueling day of work, she put on makeup and pulled her greasy hair up into a ponytail at the top of her head. With bobby pins, she secured it in a bun, then used hair spray to hold it in place.

  The spray was a bad idea, its scent adding to the smell of sweat and smoke from the barbecue pit. But at least she didn’t look as much like a hag as she had for the last few days.

  When she went down for their pitiful supper, Beth looked up at her. “We’re going fishing tomorrow at Lake Bishop! All of us, even Mom.”

  Great. Another family field trip. “I don’t want to go,” Deni said.

  Her mother frowned. “Why not?”

  “Because, I don’t feel like it, okay? I was supposed to go back to Washington today. It stinks that I’m still here, and I don’t want to go fishing.”

  “If you don’t fish, you don’t eat.”

  This was ridiculous! “Then how come Amber Rowe always gets to eat? I’ll bet she’s not going fishing, but you’ll surely bring something back for her.”

  Her mother’s face tightened. “If there’s extra, we will. But our first priority is to feed our family.”

  “Yeah, right.” Deni looked at her father, who had that tight look on his face. “Can’t you give me a break? Don’t you realize what I’m going through? I haven’t talked to Craig in five days! I’m going nuts. All I want to do is go back to Washington, but it’s like the universe has conspired against me.” She slammed her hands on the table and got up, went to the kitchen sink to get some water from the pitcher. She poured a glass, took one drink, then spat it out. “It tastes like mud flavored with bleach. I’m sick of this!”

  “Deni, we’re all sick of it,” Kay said. “This has curtailed all our plans. And Craig will be all right. If you love each other, then you can handle being apart for a while. He’ll still be there.”

  She spun to face her mother. “If? That’s it, isn’t it? You don’t think he loves me! You think I’m just some starry-eyed girl who’s in love with the wrong guy. You’ve never liked him, either of you!”

  Doug’s jaw dropped. “What? Why would you say that?”

  “I see that look on your face whenever you’re around him, like you’ve bitten on a lemon. And everything you say to him is sarcastic. You’re happy we’re not together, aren’t you? You’ve probably been praying for divine intervention to stop our marriage from happening.”

  Her dad just stared at her. “Right. The outage is all about you. Somehow your mother and I rigged up an EMP to keep you away from Craig.”

  “Stop putting words in my mouth!”

  “Deni, I know you’re upset.” Her father’s tone was sharp, and his eyes told her he wasn’t going to put up with much more. “But you are not going to talk to me or your mother that way.”

  She chewed on her bottom lip, expletives flying through her mind—but she knew better than to utter them. “I’m still not going fishing.”

  “Fine.” Her mother showed no sympathy at all. “Then you won’t eat fish. Be satisfied with a helping of peas for supper tomorrow.”

  “Maybe I’ll go to Amber’s for dinner.”

  Kay was fed up. “Go to your room, Deni.”

  She breathed a laugh and looked up at her mother. “I am twenty-two years old, not some kid who can be grounded.”

  “You’re a guest in my home,” her mother bit out, “but if you insist on acting like a child, you will be treated like one. Go to your room. I’ve had enough.”

  Deni wanted to upend the table, with all the dishes on it. She wanted to kick a hole in the wall. She wanted to get on her bike and ride until she couldn’t ride anymore.

  Instead, she stormed up the stairs, and sat like a kid in Supernanny’s “naughty room.” Defiance spiraled through her, and finally, she got up and donned her swimsuit, and put her clothes back on over it. She needed a swim, and she’d promised to go with Chris to Vic’s tonight. She packed a towel in her tote bag, then headed downstairs.

  Her family was out on the back patio, so she slipped out the front, knowing they’d stop her if they knew what she was doing. It was after eight, and dusk colored the street in gray tones As she headed to Chris’s, she feared the swarming mosquitoes more than the killer, since there was still some light. Didn’t killers only strike after midnight?

  Out of habit, she glanced to the right and left before crossing the street. As she did, she caught a glimpse of someone several houses back stepping behind a house as if hiding from her. She looked harder, trying to see who it was. They were gone.

  She crossed the street, then turned back. She saw the shadow of a man coming out from behind the house, but quickly he stepped behind a tree.

  Was that Brad Caldwell?

  She turned from him and walked faster, wondering if he was watching her. If so, what for? It wasn’t like she needed a babysitter.

  No, his hiding seemed more sinister than that. Like he was stalking her or something.

  She glanced back, and didn’t see him. Maybe he was gone. Maybe he was playing hide-and-seek with his children. This was, after all, Brad Caldwell, Birmingham attorney, Jeremy and Drew’s dad.

  But until the outage, they’d hardly interacted with him at all. How did they know what kind of man he really was? People had secrets. Some deadly.

  She was out of breath by the time she reached Chris’s. Her friend had been waiting for her. Deni told her about Brad as they walked to Vic’s. As they turned up his driveway, she saw Brad again. He was closer now, but still trying not to be seen. Thankfully, Vic answered the door quickly. The dog yapped up at her.

  “Deni! Chris! What a surprise!”

  Deni looked over her shoulder and bolted inside without being asked. “Close the door!” she said. “We’re being followed.”

  He picked up Scrappy. “By who?”

  “My next-door neighbor.” She went to the window, looked out. “Never mind. I don’t see him now.”

  “That black man? He was following you?”

  She turned back to him, surprised that he knew where she lived. “I think so. I’m not sure. Maybe I’m just on edge. But I saw him and it made me nervous.”

  Vic and Chris looked past her out the window. “Well, you’re welcome to stay here until you feel more comfortable,” Vic said. “I can walk you home if you want.”

  Chris gave a nervous laugh. “Actually, we intended to come here. We were hoping you’d let us swim.”

  “Of course you can. It’s all yours.”

  He stayed inside while they went out, and Deni swam laps. His little dog sat on the side of the pool, seemingly fascinated with both of them. After they both washed their hair over the grass, Vic came out with two glasses of lemonade. Sitting down on the lawn chair next to her, he handed her one. “Here, maybe this’ll cheer you up. That guy really shook you up, didn’t he?”

  Deni took the glass and drank it gratefully. Chris was still in the water, floating on her back. “It’s not just that. I’ve been in a blue funk all day. I’m furious at my family. They don’t understand how much I want to get to my fiancé. I’m going crazy, and they think I should be happy as a clam to be here in Crockett with them.”

  “Crockett’s not a bad place to be.”

  “No, if you don’t mind living in the neighborhood with a killer.”

  He nodded. “Yeah, there is that. Have they gotten any closer to finding out who did that?”

  “No, but there are a lot of rumors going around. I have a few ideas of my own.”

  “Don’t tell me, let me guess. Are any of them saying Brad Caldwell was involved?”

  She looked at him, startled. “No. Look, just because he was following me doesn’t mean I think he’s the killer.”

  Vic set Chris’s glass down. “There are rumblings that he was out the night the Grant house was broken into, prowling around the neighborhood with a gun. When he first moved in, lots of people were suspicious of him, anyway.”

  “Why? Because he’s black?”

  “That pr
obably has something to do with it.”

  “Well, I don’t think his race should make him more of a suspect than anyone else. My dad and brother were out that night, too, and my brother’s friends were getting drunk and partying. I’m sure they’re all being looked at.”

  “Yeah, but we can’t ignore the obvious. Especially if he was following you.”

  She didn’t know what to think. “That’s just it. This is not a safe place. That’s only one of the reasons I don’t want to be here.”

  “Then leave.”

  “How will I do that? Got any ideas?”

  “A few. If this outage lasts much longer, I’m going to have to hit the road myself. I’ve been trying to think of what I could rig up to carry my stock in so I can visit my stores and make sure they’re back up and running. I’ve got a few ideas for a wagon pulled by horses. I won’t be ready for a few days yet, but when I go, you’re welcome to come along.”

  She looked at him, struck by the simplicity in his tone. “You’d take me all the way to D.C.?”

  “Sure. I have to go that far, anyway. My stores are all across the south. I’d have to stop at each one along the way, so if you don’t mind that, I’d be perfectly willing to take you all the way to Washington.”

  She imagined telling her parents that she was leaving town with Mark’s father. What would they say?

  You can’t go off with a perfect stranger. You don’t know anything about this man.

  But she knew his son, and he was a nice guy.

  She regarded Vic as he fluffed his Yorkie’s coat, pampering and kissing him. A man who loved his dog so much couldn’t be bad, could he?

  Of course, her parents would forbid her to leave, but that would carry little weight. She had to follow her heart and couldn’t let them make decisions for her anymore.

  Still . . .

  She didn’t know Vic that well, and it would be awkward being on the road with a stranger for days, maybe even weeks. There must be some other way.

  “I don’t know,” she said. “It’s a possibility. I’ll think about it.”

  “Do. You have a little time. It’ll take me awhile to get things ready. And of course, I’m hoping that it won’t come to that. If the power comes back on soon, then we’ll both have our problems solved.”

  When they left Vic’s, she hurried home, constantly looking over her shoulder. She didn’t see Brad as she went by his house and slipped into her own.

  Evading her parents again, she hurried upstairs and plopped onto her bed, as that seed of hope took root in her heart.

  If things continued the way they were, at least she had one option. She could leave Crockett with Vic. It was something to hang on to.

  thirty-one

  For the next several days, Doug and Kay didn’t talk again about the gun he’d loaned to Amber. But the tension was still there, rippling on the air like deadly fumes. There was never a time to air their marriage out. No date night to talk things over, no stolen trips in the car for a moment to work things out. At night, when they fell into bed, they were both too exhausted to tackle the subject.

  Doug watched his wife flit around the house taking care of menial things that kept them going. While they were at the lake, Kay stayed home boiling water. While they dug a garden, Kay scrubbed dishes out on the back patio. While they met neighbors in the streets, Kay put together feasts from a can of green beans and a pack of dried noodles.

  Recognizing her weariness one evening after supper, he told her he and the children would wash the dishes so she could go visit down at the lake. It had become the hub of the neighborhood, a place of fellowship and swapped information, where many gathered at the end of each day.

  Kay stayed out until dark, then came back with new life in her eyes. She’d met several women she’d never seen before and reacquainted herself with others. She couldn’t stop talking about a family who’d just moved in two weeks before the outage.

  “They’re about our age and have children the same ages as Deni and Jeff. Before they moved, they sold their children’s bikes in a garage sale, so they’re stranded. I think we should give them one of ours.”

  Doug thought he’d heard her wrong. “What?”

  “Doug, imagine what this outage would be like if we didn’t have bikes. They might have an emergency or something. They need a way to get around.”

  Doug couldn’t believe he was hearing this. “I understand loaning it when they have to go somewhere, Kay, but not giving it to them. We need our bikes. It’s the only thing making this whole thing bearable.”

  “They need them, too. We have six, Doug. We can do without one.”

  “So how come you’re so charitable to them, but you were so upset when I gave Amber a gun?”

  “I was upset because you told her she could have it without even asking me. But I’m asking you now. I haven’t promised it to them yet.”

  “Then don’t give it. Tell them they can borrow it when they need it, but I want it back.”

  Kay didn’t liked it, but she finally agreed.

  Doug lay in bed that night, his rifle on the bed table next to him. Jeff was taking first watch. As exhausted as Doug was, he couldn’t sleep.

  Desperation was starting to sink in as he thought about the dwindling food supply in the pantry. What would they do when they ran out?

  Each time he drifted off, he dreamed of himself and his family sitting in a basement room with shelves and shelves of things. Diapers, baby food, bags of flour, rice, water jugs, cans of beans and vegetables and soups, candles and kerosene lamps, toilet paper and napkins, plastic utensils, paper plates. People banged on the door, crying for him to open it and share, but he and his family sat there among their provisions, trying to ignore the cries of need outside.

  He woke in a cold sweat, got out of bed, and went into the kitchen. Jeff sat at the kitchen table, nodding over last month’s Time. It had been a slow news month, so they’d focused on fad diets.

  “Must be a great article.” His voice startled Jeff awake.

  “Sorry, Dad. I was trying to stay awake.”

  Doug smiled and pulled the magazine toward him. “They left one diet out. The running-out-of-food diet. Guaranteed to work.”

  Jeff stretched. “Yeah. Or the giving-it-all-away diet.”

  Doug looked at him in the lamplight. Had his son been worrying about the food they’d shared with Amber? Was that hoarding mentality plaguing him at night, too?

  “Son, go on to bed. I couldn’t sleep. I’ll take the watch.”

  “You sure?”

  Doug nodded, yawning. Jeff got up and quietly padded up the stairs.

  Carrying the kerosene lamp into his study, Doug sat down at his desk. His Bible lay on the corner, so he pulled it to him and stared down at the cover. He needed to read it . . . but where should he look for the answers to all the questions plaguing him?

  He needed to know how to act in a time of crisis, when they didn’t know if they had enough food or provisions, when people around them were desperate and in trouble. He needed to know what the line was between caring for your family and caring for your neighbors. He needed to understand what God wanted from him during this outage.

  Teach me, Lord. Show me what You want me to see.

  As he prayed, the Lord’s Prayer came to his mind. Our Father who art in heaven . . .

  No, he didn’t need to pray that. He needed to spill his guts to God, cry out to him for real answers. He needed to hear God’s voice, not recite some rote prayer that didn’t cover his needs.

  Give us this day our daily bread. . .

  Something told him to find that passage in the Bible. Where had Jesus said it? He filed through his memory bank. The Sermon on the Mount. Quickly, he turned to that passage—Matthew 5, 6, and 7.

  And as he began to read, he realized why God had led him there.

  Kay woke halfway through the night and felt the bed next to her. It was empty. Doug still hadn’t surrendered to sleep.

  She lay
there a moment, staring up at the opaque darkness, wishing for the light on her clock that she used to complain about. She had a washcloth that she threw over the red digital readout, and another that covered the cable box next to the television. The slightest light used to keep her awake—now the utter darkness disturbed her. It was like a living thing, its tentacles reaching around and into her, changing her in ways she didn’t expect.