Last Light

  Jeff came and leaned into the doorway as Doug got the .12 gauge out.

  “What are you doing, Dad?”

  He opened the action to make sure it wasn’t loaded. “I don’t know if we’re going to have to defend our property, but I want to be ready if we are.”

  Jeff’s face twisted. “What? You think people might attack us now that our guard’s down?”

  “I don’t know what’s gonna happen.” He went to the closet across the room and checked the shelf where he kept the ammunition. He never kept the cartridges in the same place as the guns, in case, someone didn’t close the safe well enough, and Logan and his friends got into it.

  “We’re low on ammo, so we’ll have to conserve it. No big deal. Probably nothing’s going to happen. But just in case . . .”

  He saw the color draining from his son’s face, and let out a heavy sigh. “Look, I know this sounds crazy to you. I’m not trying to be an alarmist. You know that’s not how I am.”

  “I know, Dad. That’s why you’re freaking me out.”

  “It’s just that there are a lot of unknowns right now. This has never happened before. Watches going out? Generators not working? Cars dying in the road? It just doesn’t make any sense, and such massive damage makes it seem intentional. All I’m saying is that if all this is because of some hostile act by terrorists or an enemy nation, then we need to be prepared. As the men of this house, we have to protect our family and our home.”

  He handed Jeff the shotgun, then got out his own rifle, a Remington .30/06.

  Jeff took the .12 gauge and stared down at it. He swallowed, and brought his troubled eyes back up to Doug. “So how far are you gonna go with it, Dad? Do you want me out back and you out front all night, like we’re soldiers guarding our camp?”

  “No, I don’t think that’ll be necessary. We just need to keep the guns close by.”

  The shadows cast by the kerosene lamp magnified the worry lines on Jeff’s face.

  “Son, it’s probably nothing at all.” He took the .22 out and checked it.

  “Should I load it?”

  Doug looked at the gun in Jeff’s hand. When had he last fired it? Two years? Three? He’d gotten Jeff his own shotgun when they used to go deer hunting. That was a great time of bonding for him and the boys—until he got so busy with work that he didn’t have time anymore.

  Respect for their weapons was the first thing he’d taught his boys, and the number one rule was to keep their gun unloaded when they weren’t hunting. “Why don’t we keep them unloaded, but carry some ammo around with us just in case?”

  Jeff’s eyes had grown darker, more serious. “Okay, Dad. Logan’s gonna want his.”

  Doug shook his head. “Just you and me for now. That should be enough. Here, give it back to me and I’ll clean it. It’s been a long time since it’s been used.”

  “Yeah, a long time. I was thinking about taking Logan myself this deer season if you can’t go. Shame for him to miss freezing in a deer stand eating beef jerky and Starbursts if he doesn’t have to. Kid needs a little nature.”

  Doug smiled. “How about I make a point of going this year?”

  Jeff shrugged. “Said that last year.”

  Doug knew Jeff wasn’t just talking about their hunting trips. It was a commentary on his parenting—or lack thereof. The blessing of having a capable wife came with curses also. It made you forget you were needed.

  He mumbled more promises that he hoped he would keep. Seemingly satisfied—and slightly amused—Jeff left his gun for Doug to clean and went up to his room. Doug took all three guns, his cleaning kit, and the kerosene lamp, and set them out on the patio table. The breeze was cool now, sweeping through his hair.

  Kay stepped out and joined him. “You okay?” she asked.

  “Yeah, I’m fine.”

  She sat down next to him. “You really think you need those guns?”

  “Probably not,” he said, shoving the swab down the barrel, “but I’ve got them if I do.”

  She looked up at the mysterious sky. “Beth is sleeping with Deni tonight, because she doesn’t want to be alone. I thought I might hit the sack, too, if you don’t need me for anything.”

  Doug was silent for a moment. “We should have prayed together.”

  Kay looked at him. “What?”

  “We should have prayed together as a family before everybody started going to bed. We should have gathered in the family room, holding hands, asking God’s blessing and protection on our family tonight.”

  She studied his face. “You’re really scared, aren’t you?”

  “Not scared. Cautious . . . thoughtful.”

  Kay leaned forward, putting her face inches from his. “That’s why I always feel so safe with you. You think ahead, figuring out every possible scenario that might threaten our family, while we go on about our business.”

  He breathed a laugh, glad she’d noticed.

  “Honey, I think it’s okay that we didn’t pray together,” she said, taking his hand. “If we made a big deal out of it, sitting around in a circle praying together for what—the first time ever?—the kids would be even more disturbed. We want to keep them calm. It may be no big deal at all.”

  Shame heated Doug’s face for the second time that night. Here he was, the supposed leader of his family, and the most he’d ever prayed with them was a hurried prayer before meals—if they ate together at the table. He and Kay prayed together sometimes, but not nearly enough.

  “Besides,” she said, “I think we’re each praying on our own.”

  Doug wondered if the silent, hurried prayers of frustration were even close to what they needed.

  “Mom, Dad?”

  Deni stepped out on the patio. She looked young again, fourteen maybe, with her hair pulled up in a ponytail and her face scrubbed clean of makeup. The sight of that lifted his heart a little. She’d changed so much in the last few years that Doug often longed for the sight of his little girl in old shorts and a big T-shirt, her hair swept back instead of fluffed and teased like a model’s.

  “I don’t think I can sleep.” Deni pulled up a chair in the darkness, sat down facing her parents. “I know this outage has left a lot of people inconvenienced, but I think this could actually mess up my whole life.”

  The self-centered assessment almost amused him. “Deni, it’s gonna be all right. Whatever happens.”

  “No, Dad, you don’t understand. I have to report for work next Monday. I worked too hard for this job. There were eighty-three people up for it, and they hired me. If I don’t show up, they’ll find someone else. I have to be there.”

  Kay sighed. “Can we cross that bridge when we get to it? We’ll know more tomorrow. You’ve got plenty of time—a whole week.”

  “But I need to get in touch with Craig. He’ll want to hear from me. It’s crazy that we have no communication. We don’t even have the news. This is the twenty-first century!” She got up and paced across the patio as she ranted. “We ought to be able to do better than this. I’m gonna be panicked if I can’t get back east. My job is important. They need me.”

  Doug made a point not to roll his eyes. As proud as he was of his daughter, and as excited as he was about her internship, it was just that. An internship. It wasn’t like she was going to be cohosting the news with Brian Williams. If she was a few days late, it would hardly matter.

  He tried to keep the apathy out of his voice. “Deni, there’s no use sitting around and complaining and whining over what can’t be. Especially tonight. We’ll know more tomorrow, I’ll guarantee you.”

  “It just stinks!” She plopped back into her chair. “Here I am on the brink of the rest of my life, ready to start making a living and being on my own, and this has to happen.”

  Kay touched her daughter’s knee. “Honey, I wish you’d count your blessings. You could be dead right now. That plane might not have landed today.”

  Deni stared at her as if her cluelessness couldn’t be tolerated. “But it
did land, and I have to move on. I have to think about the future, and this could be messing it all up. Nobody in this family is as affected by this as I am.”

  Kay met Doug’s eyes, and he could see the aggravation there. Don’t say it, Kay.

  Too late. “I hate to break this to you,” she said, “but this is not just about you.”

  Their daughter grunted. “That was a mean thing to say. I never said it was all about me.”

  Kay closed her eyes. “There are people all over this city without electricity. Every one of us was inconvenienced in some way. We all have plans, and none of us is thrilled about what’s happened.”

  “And you think I don’t realize that?”

  “You don’t sound like it.”

  She sprang up again. “Well, that’s just great. I thought I could be honest with my parents. I thought I could share my concerns with them. Vent a little.”

  “Venting’s okay,” Doug said, “but what your mother’s trying to point out is that there are people in a lot more trouble than you right now. Think of the hospitals. Think of the people with pacemakers. The nursing homes. Think of people who can’t get to their medications. Families who are separated—”

  “Just forget it.” Deni threw up her hands and started for the door. “I should have known I couldn’t talk to you anymore. This is why I’m leaving home. I’m going someplace where people don’t automatically think the worst of me.”

  Kay began rubbing her forehead, and her words came out through her teeth. “Nobody’s thinking the worst of you, Deni. Just don’t filter everything through how it affects you. We’re all going through stuff. So you delay your career for a few days. It won’t hurt anything. And you may actually get there on time anyway.”

  Doug closed his eyes. Why did they have to have this conversation right now? He was just too tired. “If you don’t make it, you need to consider the fact that Washington may not have electricity either. This could be across the whole country. We don’t know.”

  Deni breathed a laugh. “No way. That whole area is more secure and more advanced than we are. They’ve got the Pentagon. I don’t believe that everything is shut down there.”

  “Well, if it’s just our area, then we’ll know soon enough when cars that run make it here.”

  Deni stood there a moment, staring at both of them as if she wanted them to fix it and was crushed that they couldn’t. “I’m going to bed,” she said finally. “And if Beth kicks me or snatches the covers, I’m shoving her onto the floor.”

  “Oh, now that’s mature,” Kay said. “She’s scared, Deni. She wants to sleep with her big sister. Is that so awful?”

  “I’m just saying . . .” With that she stormed into the house.

  Kay sat there for a moment, staring up at the sky and shaking her head. “We spoiled her, and now it’s coming back to haunt us.”

  “We spoiled all of them. And we’re spoiled, too. Maybe that’s why this happened.”

  “Stop being so doomsdayish.” Kay got up, went to the post and leaned against it. “You’re talking like this is an act of God that’s going to last forever. It can’t. We’re too smart for that.”

  “Who’s too smart for that? You think if God wanted to teach us a lesson, we could stop Him?”

  “God isn’t doing this. He doesn’t send power outages. The electric company does.”

  “Then why does God say that He’s the One forming light and creating darkness, causing well-being and creating calamity?”

  “The Bible doesn’t say that.”

  “Yes, it does. It’s in—” He laid his head back and looked at the night sky, trying to remember where it was. “Somewhere in one of the prophets. We had to learn it when my accountability group studied God’s sovereignty.”

  “I’m impressed.”

  He breathed a laugh. “Don’t be. It’s the only thing I was really accountable for. Out-reciting that know-it-all Dan Milner. Wonder what he’s doing tonight.”

  “Probably cleaning his guns, too.”

  “The bottom line, Kay, is that God does do things like this. And look at all the stuff that’s been happening in the world—war, hurricanes, tsunamis—it’s like He’s been trying to get our attention.”

  She looked out at the night, and he could almost see the wheels turning in her mind. She had to know he was right.

  Finally, she leaned over and kissed the top of his head. “I’ve never seen you like this. You need to just come on in and come to bed. You’ve had a very long day.”

  “I will, in a minute.”

  “All right, then I’m going to bed. Glad you’re home. Things could be so much worse.”

  “Yep, they could. Sleep well. I’ll be along in a minute.”

  He kissed her, then watched her go inside, aware that she thought he was overreacting. He hoped she was right. But if she wasn’t, things were about to get bad. And he’d have to hold it all together.

  If only he were more certain of his strength as a husband and father . . . a protector and provider, and didn’t just feel like a forty-seven-year-old guy who’d gotten his bike stolen today.

  Maybe God was about to show him what he was made of.

  nine

  The power was still out the next morning, as Doug had predicted. He got his own ten-speed down from its hook in the garage. He hadn’t ridden it in at least three years, and it needed some air in the tires and a little lubrication on the chain. After getting it into shape, he slung his rifle over his shoulder and rode out of the neighborhood, struck by the number of cars stalled in the street. It seemed strange, somehow, that the sun still shone and the wind still blew. The flowers grew bright and fragrant, reaching up to the sky in praise. Birds went about their daily business, oblivious to the mess the humans were in.

  He rode about five miles through town to the Kroger store on Keisler Street, and saw the other bikers there who’d had the same idea. The store was closed, and as he peered in, he saw that the shelves had been almost cleared. Hundreds of people had probably stopped by to get what they needed during the exodus home last night. Why hadn’t he had the forethought to do that? He’d just been so anxious to get to the house that he hadn’t thought of it. Besides, it would have been difficult to carry anything that far.

  He rode through town, checking convenience stores and fast-food restaurants, but nothing was open. Finally, he decided to go to the street where Kay had left their car. He turned onto the main thoroughfare through the town, and saw the bumper-to-bumper traffic stalled there.

  Kay’s Expedition was several cars down the line, and as he approached it, he realized the driver’s side door was wide open. Had she left it open? What had she been thinking?

  He got off his bike and looked inside. And then he understood.

  The CD player had been ripped from its hole, and the speakers gouged from the doors. He got out of the car and looked up and down the street. About ten cars back, he saw some boys climbing out of a van, arms full of stuff that they threw into a wagon. His stereo was probably in there, too.

  “Hey! What are you doing?”

  The boys looked back at him, then took off running, rolling the overflowing wagon behind them. Doug jumped on his bike and tried to follow them, but they dashed into the woods, maneuvering their wagon with skill and dexterity.

  Behind him, he heard another car door slam. He turned and saw a man sitting in a Cadillac, digging through the glove box.

  “That your car, mister?” he yelled.

  The man just kept working.

  Doug rode his bike toward him. “Hey, get out of that car!”

  The man stuffed some items into his pockets, got back on his own bike, and rode off.

  Doug thought of chasing him, but what would he do if he caught him? Shoot a man over a car stereo? It wasn’t like he could stay here all day, guarding the cars. There was really nothing he could do.

  If only there were a police station in Crockett. But since it hadn’t yet been annexed, they were under the county s
heriff’s care. It was only ten miles to the sheriff’s office. Surely someone had reported for duty today. He could ride there and tell them what was happening. If they knew criminals were having a field day with the parked cars, they could surely stop it.

  By the time he reached the sheriff’s office he ached from the exertion. His muscles already hurt from yesterday’s strain, and his rump felt bruised from the triangle the manufacturers called a seat. Breathing hard, he rode his bike to the curb, then carried it up the steps. The door was open, so he pushed inside.

  The office had few windows, so very little light graced the place.