Through the Ashes (The Light Book 2) Read online

  Through the Ashes

  Book Two of The Light Series

  Jacqueline Brown

  Falling Dusk Publishing

  2017

  Copyright © 2017 by Jacqueline Brown

  All rights reserved. Published in the United States by Falling Dusk Publishing.

  www.Jacqueline-Brown.com

  This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover art by James Hrkach.

  Falling Dusk Publishing image is courtesy of amh.design.

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty-One

  Twenty-Two

  Twenty-Three

  Twenty-Four

  Twenty-Five

  Twenty-Six

  Twenty-Seven

  Twenty-Eight

  Twenty-Nine

  Thirty

  Thirty-One

  Thirty-Two

  Thirty-Three

  This book is dedicated to my two sons, whose entry into my life pulled me from the greatest darkness I have ever known. You are each a gift to the world and I could not be more honored and humbled to be your mom.

  Prologue

  Sage’s Journal

  The Day Before Thanksgiving

  I always knew every guy who crossed Sara’s path instantly became more important than me, but now it’s Bria and Blaise too. What am I supposed to do? How many times am I supposed to let her in just so she can hurt me? I can’t keep doing this. I know we’re sisters and I love her, but I deserve respect. Mom does too. Going to Florida for Thanksgiving and not coming home. That’s too much, even for her. It’s always one thing after the other with her. I’m done with her, so done.

  Thanksgiving

  I’m trying, I really am. Mom deserves a good Thanksgiving, but first Sara abandoned us and now the power is out. Sara is probably in Florida, eating at some fancy restaurant that Bria’s dad is paying for, and I’m stuck here with uncooked food. It’s really not fair. It never is.

  Night of Thanksgiving

  Something is wrong, really wrong. The power is still not on. No one’s phone works. Mom knew, but didn’t tell me. She said I can’t leave the apartment. She pushed the couch in front of the door, and said we have enough food for two weeks if we ration it. I told her she was crazy and came in here. But sitting here, I hear the gunshots. They’re everywhere, and there are no sirens—not one. The light is starting to fade. It’s getting cold.

  Black Friday

  The building across the street burned down last night. Mom and I watched from the window. I wanted to go help, but she wouldn’t let me. I started to scream at her. She covered my mouth. She said our only hope was to stay in the apartment, unnoticed, as long as we could. There was something about her eyes, Sara. Something I haven’t seen since she was trying to protect us from Dad. I stopped screaming and she let go.

  Where are you? What is this? I hope you’re okay. I love you. You know that, right? We’re sisters and nothing can ever change that.

  Saturday

  It’s freezing. Mom and I slept in her bed last night. My body was shaking so bad I couldn’t sleep. Mom wrapped her arms around me like I was a little kid. I thought of you, how you used to hold me like that when we lived in hell with Dad. I would cry and you would sing soft enough so he couldn’t hear. Do you remember that? I’m sorry I didn’t understand your need to escape the memories. I get that now. I forgive you.

  There’s snow on the ground. It’s covering the bodies. T’Asia and her baby are dead. They got burned. Someone shot them. I think it was to be nice, like they were dogs or horses or something, and someone was putting them out of their misery.

  I feel like I’m breaking or going numb or both. You know I’m not the strong one. I wish I hadn’t seen that baby lying in the street. I’m glad the snow covered them. It’s like it buried them … and all the others. I’m glad you’re not here. I’m glad you don’t have to see this. I hope you’re safe. Don’t come back here, Sara. I pray you can hear me and you survive this. Mom’s right: our only hope is to go unnoticed as long as we can. No matter what you do, don’t come back! Please hear me, somehow hear me. Don’t come for us. Never come for us!

  One

  I hung the towel on a large iron hook bolted to the back of the bathroom door. The wood floor was cold on my bare feet. The warm outside air carried the scent of apple blossoms, a smell I would forever equate with survival.

  I looked down at the yard through the high open window. From here I could see … but not be seen. I watched JP holding Talin’s reins. Squealing with delight, Quinn sat on Talin as JP jogged and Talin began to trot. He slowed and she yelled, “Again, again.” He laughed and started running. East walked nearby. I knew she was nervous because she was always nervous when Quinn took the slightest risk. It was ironic because in her own life East was nothing, if not daring. But then, I’m told we see the world differently when we’re parents.

  East loved being here with her family, but I knew she longed for more. She wanted adventure and danger; she wanted to go back into the world. She periodically tried to convince the rest of us to go into town. She guessed it would take two, maybe three days on foot. Eli was the only one who ever really listened to her pleas and his desire was only to take Communion to those who wanted it. In the end, Charlotte and Quint always said no and that was enough to stop the planning. East and I were opposites in almost every way, especially when it came to this. I wanted safety and security. I never again wanted to feel the pangs of starvation and unquenchable thirst. I wanted to live comfortably and quietly. My friends were here, my father was here, and Jonah was here. I needed nothing else.

  The bath’s rushing water pulled my attention back inside. Steam filled the air above the tub as I turned the faucet off and watched the water flow around the heated river rocks. I held on to the cold metal tub. Gingerly, I placed first my left and then my right foot into the tub, careful to avoid the scorching rocks. My body relaxed as I allowed myself to sink deeper and deeper into the water. All my concerns disappeared with the water’s warm embrace.

  With the tip of a toe, I carefully touched one of the smaller rocks. It didn’t burn. I allowed my feet to inch closer. The heat of the metal tray they sat on felt good against the rough calluses of my feet. I leaned my head back, placing my feet on the rocks. It reminded me of a hot stone massage during a pedicure. That memory had inspired me to try the hot rocks in the first place. We could never get enough boiling water into the tub quick enough, before the water began to cool. However, we could add over a dozen rocks at a time. Their heat was enough to return us to some semblance of comfort.

  Before Pops died, he and Sara were trying to fix the pumps. After he was murdered, she continued and eventually got them working. I never appreciated that my friend was an engineering genius as much as I did on that day. The day we had running water was one of the best days of my life—that, and the day Quint said Jonah was getting stronger and was likely to live.

  I shivered as the day of Mick’s ambush overtook my thoughts. I wished, as I always did, that I had done something else—turned back when I saw the shadows or realized sooner what my parents’ destr
oyed house meant. I knew it wasn’t my fault, and East said if I hadn’t left for my parents’ house, we probably would’ve all died. Still, I wished things had turned out differently. I wished Pops was still with us today. His absence was felt by all, even those of us who barely knew him.

  I picked up the small bar of soap that balanced on the edge of the tub. It was still wet from when JP took a bath an hour or so earlier. He and I would not have time to bathe in the morning. I rubbed the soap over my body. Nonie figured out how to make it from ashes and animal fat. She said her grandmother had shown her when she was a small child. It took her several attempts to get it right, but now she had and we were all grateful.

  When I lifted my right leg from the water, the cool air caused the small hairs to push up from the skin. I methodically pulled the razor across my skin. The hair fell into the water, the goosebumps on the bald skin rising even higher. The action, something once so familiar, flooded my mind with memories of the past … of the last time I’d shaved my legs just before a date with Trent. I touched the two white lines right below my kneecap. That time, I’d cut myself, something I hadn’t done since I was a kid. Perhaps my body knew that date would end in a fight. Perhaps the red stream running down my pale leg, draining into my shower, was a sign of things to come. He was angry when he saw the bandage on my knee. He said I was stupid for not paying attention. At the time I thought he was right. Now I knew he wasn’t.

  Two

  I bent and picked a small daisy, Pops’s rifle resting against my back. “Is this your peace offering?” I asked, speaking to the warm earth below my feet.

  “Who are you talking to?” JP asked, from his place in the apple tree.

  I looked up at the boy, who’d turned nine a week ago. The winter had been hard on him, his innate joy replaced with grief for his grandfather and uncertainty and fear for his brother. Yet with each warm day he returned a little to the happy, energetic boy he had been when I first met him—though taller and with pants that were consistently too short.

  “No one. Just talking,” I answered, watching him hang upside down from a branch above me.

  “I can’t wait for apples,” he said as he swung by his knees, his head dangling close to my own.

  “It will be a while, but I’m sure it will be worth the wait.” I looked at the trees and the bees buzzing around the blossoms, hoping the apples would arrive early this year. Like JP, I didn’t want to wait.

  “Come down. We have a wedding to get to, remember?” I leaned against the trunk of the tree, placing the daisy against my nose, inhaling but smelling only the apple blossoms.

  “Oh yeah, I forgot,” he said, grabbing the limb with his hands. He lifted his knees off the branch and swung backward, landing beside me.

  He’d gotten good at that move. I wondered if I were nine, would I do the same or would I be too scared. I envied him in so many ways.

  “How did you forget? We’ve been planning it for weeks,” I said, tussling his hair as he looked up at me and grinned.

  “I didn’t forget there was a wedding. I just forgot it was today,” he said, bending to pick up the limp rabbit from the moist earth. Its brown fur was stained red. I turned my head away from it.

  It had been my turn to hunt and JP volunteered to come with me, as he always did. When I saw the doe, JP told me in a hushed voice to shoot it. I hesitated on purpose, hoping it would catch our scent or hear his whispers. Hoping it would save its own life. A moment later the rabbit jumped from the brush. The doe bolted. I pulled the trigger.

  I didn’t know why it seemed less bad to kill a rabbit than a deer, but for some reason it did. Either way, I was sick of death. But I knew it was our only hope of survival. It would not always be this way, and when there was a choice I would make a different one. I would choose life over death and never again sacrifice another’s life to save my own.

  We neared the barn and JP held his finger to his lips. He loved sneaking up on people and I loved watching him laugh, so I obliged and quieted my steps. He walked as stealthily as he could and leaned his back against the stone wall of the barn. I joined him, though I didn’t lean against the stone. He signaled for me to stay as he inched closer to the opening. Once he reached the edge of the stone he motioned me forward. I rolled my eyes and smiled at him.

  “You could keep teaching me.” Jonah’s voice sounded tense and pleading.

  Eli answered back in his typical calm manner. “I could if that’s really what you want.”

  I pulled on JP’s shoulder and whispered, “We can’t spy on your brothers.”

  “Shh, we can if you’re quiet,” he hissed.

  I shook my head and leaned against the wall … waiting for JP to lose interest, as I knew he would in another few seconds. He was predictable in his impatience.

  “Yes, I think it is,” Jonah said, his tone thoughtful.

  “Jonah, do you mind if I’m honest with you?” Eli asked.

  “Aren’t you always?” Jonah sounded amused.

  “Yes, but I often keep thoughts to myself. Do you mind if I don’t do that?”

  “Okay,” Jonah answered, his voice changed, sounding unsure.

  I whispered, “JP, we really need to go.”

  He waved me to be quiet, and leaned his head closer to the opening.

  “I think you’re stubborn and scared, really scared, and a little confused. Don’t walk away.” Eli’s voice was commanding in a way I’d never heard before. “You said I could speak. You know I’m right and it makes you uncomfortable. I know you committed to seminary and I respect that decision and commitment. But going to seminary and being a priest are two different things. It’s okay for you to change your mind. It’s okay for you to realize God wasn’t calling you to him in that way.”

  “Y-you—” Jonah sputtered.

  “No, Jonah, listen,” Eli said, cutting him off. “Someday you will have to stop being stubborn and stop being scared, or you will lose far more than you ever have before.”

  “You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Jonah said, his voice loud and angry.

  The newly finished barn door slammed open.

  “Jonah, I get it. I really do, but making a decision like this out of fear, don’t do it,” Eli said, calling into the distance.

  I leaned my head against the stone.

  Standing in front of me, JP asked, “Wow, what do you think Jonah’s scared of?”

  I lowered my gaze and blinked, remembering he was there and I was spying on his brothers, overhearing a conversation I never should have heard. And wishing I knew the answer to JP’s question.

  “What are you two doing?” Quinn asked, her black hair shining in the midmorning sun.

  “Look what we got,” JP said, holding up the rabbit.

  And like that, he forgot about his brothers. I wished it was as easy for me. I hoped it appeared like he and I just returned from hunting, rather than spying.

  Quinn’s expression fell. “You shot a rabbit?” she said, looking up at me, her voice small and sad.

  I nodded.

  “Did you want to?” she asked, turning her head to me, her expression serious.

  “No,” I said, looking into her charcoal eyes.

  After another glance at the rabbit still held aloft by her brother, Quinn took my hand and led us through the barn, toward the house. I scanned the area as casually as I could. Jonah and Eli were nowhere to be seen. I exhaled a sigh of relief.

  Quinn’s hand fit perfectly in mine, and I loved every moment she held it. She was very loving and sensitive and often unwilling to express emotion to anyone but her parents and her mother—whom she knew only as her sister. Unlike JP, she often ignored the rest of us. The result was that it made times like now, when she looped her fingers into the palm of my hand, that much more meaningful.

  Inside, the kitchen was overflowing with activity: Charlotte, Quint, Nonie, and my dad were each doing their best to make this day as special as possible for Blaise and Josh.

 
“Look what Bria shot!” JP exclaimed as he held up the rabbit.

  “Nice work, you two,” Dad said, turning to look. His cane, a gift from Quint, made from a fallen limb of a red maple, leaned against the counter. At first my father refused to use the cane, but as time went on he had no choice. The reality was he could barely walk without it.

  Weeks had passed and still the gunshot wound did not heal. Nonie tried every ancient home remedy she could think of, but nothing helped. My father was only growing weaker. Quint could see the rot setting in.

  It took Eli, Charlotte, Josh, and East to hold him down while Quint cut out the decaying flesh. I heard his screams through the thick stone walls of the house. I bit my lip and walked as fast as I could, as far away as I could. He had to have the surgery; I knew it, he knew it, we all knew it. But the pain. I couldn’t imagine the pain. When he passed out, the screaming stopped.

  The wound was now a smooth pink crater in his thigh. The result was a severe limp that he hoped would improve, but seemed only to worsen.

  Nonie took the rabbit from JP and laid it on the counter beside her. “Rabbit stew will make a nice addition to the menu,” she said.

  “Bria, you need to get upstairs. Blaise and Sara are getting ready,” Charlotte said as I was washing my hands in the sink. “You too, Quinn. Go on up and let East give you a bath and get you dressed.”

  Quinn allowed me to hold her hand as we walked together up the stairs. The pictures Charlotte had brought with us, along with the pictures Quinn had drawn with her crayons, accompanied us as we made our way up the stairs. The old abandoned frames Eli had found in the attic made Quinn’s drawings look quite official. At the top of the stairs was my favorite creation of hers, the family portrait. She drew us all, including the horses, Fulton and Talin, and the chickens. Pops floated above us, his white wings larger than his body, his smile larger than any of the rest of ours. When East had asked if she did that on purpose, Quinn simply responded, “Of course.”