Fermata: The Spring: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series (The Fermata Series: Four Post-Apocalyptic Novellas Book 2) by Juliette Harper

Chapter One

    Spring 2016: The Cabin

    Through the long winter the inhabitants of the small cabin slowly learned more about one another. Vick's strength returned steadily, but she was plagued with a lingering sense of fatigue, spending long afternoons writing in her journal and then sitting with Lucy and Abbott by the fire late into the night.
    The old man, sensing that her recovery was as much psychological as physical, proved to be an outstanding listener. He asked questions that invited long, introspective responses, so that the odyssey that brought the survivors to his door unfolded naturally and contemplatively. The talks were as much for their benefit as his, and often when Vick trailed into silence, Lucy would pick up the narrative.
    They always spoke in low tones because Hettie and Beth were sleeping nearby, but neither ever gave any sign of awakening or being aware of the lengthy conversations. When that fact became apparent, Abbott finally pointed to the blanket "walls" of the space the old woman shared with the little girl and said, "Tell me about them."
    Lucy looked at Vick and they shared a silent moment of communication. "We might as well," Lucy said. "He has to know sooner or later."
    Vick shifted in her chair and stared into the fire as if gathering her thoughts. Then she began. "Finding Beth wasn't easy for me."

    Boston 2012

    Other than a thick layer of dust, the toy store had survived the mayhem intact, proving Vick’s sardonic contention that the dead weren’t into board games. “Lucy, we’re in the middle of the worst remake of 'Night of the Living Dead' imaginable and you want jigsaw puzzles?”
    Lucy grinned and pulled out a 15,000-piece puzzle made up of brightly colored interlocking shapes. “I can beat you at this.”
    “Putting together a puzzle is not a game, Lucy.”
    “Sure it is, if I get it together faster than you can. And   it’s better than getting crushed night after night at Scrabble. I mean honestly, what the hell does 'quixotry' mean anyway?”
    “The act of creating visionary schemes,” Vick said.
    “You made that up,” Lucy accused.
    Vick started to laugh, but a shuffling sound to her right made her snap her gun up level in a double-handed stance. “Dead,” she said simply.
    Lucy dropped the puzzle box and swung round with her shotgun. Ever since they'd found the 12-gauge suppressor in a gun store, Lucy had insisted on carrying the pump action weapon. It wasn't completely quiet, but it was quiet enough. Vick derisively called it her "blunderbuss," another word Lucy had to look up.
    "I'm not as good with a gun as you are," Lucy said, defending her choice of weapon. "It's hard to miss with this thing."
    "Fine," Vick said, "just make sure you hit the dead and not me."
    As they both stood at the ready in the toy store, a display of stuffed animals tumbled to the floor and a filthy little figure in a pink dress came out, her tangled, dirty ringlets of hair hanging around a thin baby face.
    “Aw damn," Lucy said, partially lowering the shotgun. "It's a kid. Anything but that.”
    The sight of the child made Vick go cold. She willed her mind to go quiet and still, letting a steel curtain drop over her green eyes. “Go outside,” she ordered in a level tone. "You don't need to watch this."
    “I’m not going anywhere,” Lucky said, sounding a little annoyed. “You don’t always have to do the hard things alone.”
    Through clenched teeth, Vick said, "Fine. If you’re staying, shut up.” Every time she had to shoot a child, she went back to that night in Maurice's office. Is this what she had done then? Had she gone to a place in her mind where she really was what her dear departed husband had always called her? “A cold-hearted, methodical bitch?”
    She didn’t know why she pulled the trigger that night, but she could account for every pull of that same, tiny, functional lever in the months and years since. And when she had to put a bullet in a child’s head, she