He had appropriated a Winnebago motor home from one of his parents’ neighbors, and used it to transport his family to the cemetery. He started with his father first, half carrying, half dragging him across the lawn, then laying him as gently as possible into one of the center two graves. His mother came next, and then, flanking his parents, his sisters.
He’d considered finding coffins for each of them at first, but one check of the available boxes inside the mortuary quickly dispelled that notion. They were far too heavy for him to move by himself, and would be even more so once they were filled. His parents and sisters would have to make do with the sheets he had wrapped them in.
Standing there in the shade of the tree, he wasn’t sure what he should do next. To this point it had been almost a mechanical process — shroud the bodies, transport them, dig the graves, put the bodies in the holes. In fact, if it hadn’t been like that, he may have never been able to finish. But now, with only the burying remaining, he felt he should do something more.
A prayer, maybe?
The only prayer he knew was the Lord’s Prayer, and even with that one he was unsure about some of the wording. Still, it was better than nothing.
He moved to the foot of the graves and began.
“Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed be thy name. Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in heaven. Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive…”
Is it “our trespassers”? That didn’t seem right.
As he tried to recall the correct phrase, a memory came to him. His mother, young and vibrant, holding his hand in hers while carrying his sister — it must have been Kathy — as they entered a church.
When they were inside, she glanced down at him and said in a quiet voice, “Don’t forget, Benjamin, no talking.” She squeezed his hand and smiled.
It was a short memory, a minor detail of some forgotten day, but it was more than enough to knock him to his knees. He had thought he’d finished with the tears. He had thought his emotions had already played out.
He was wrong.
He rolled onto his back on the narrow strip of grass between his mother and father, the last time together as a family, the five of them in a row. How long he sobbed, he didn’t know, but by the time he regained control again, the shadows had grown long.
It took all of his effort, but he finally forced himself to his feet and picked up the shovel.
Again, he felt the need to say something, but this time not even a prayer came to mind, so he stuck the blade into the pile of dirt and began filling the graves.
6
Ash and the others of the last contingent to leave the Ranch spent the entire day trying to stay ahead of the storm. Their luck ran out twenty-three miles north of Sheridan, Wyoming.
At first it was only a smattering of snow, the flakes hitting the road and melting almost immediately, but in no time, the intensity increased to a point the Humvees had to slow to a crawl.
“We’ll stop in Sheridan and find shelter,” Matt announced over the radio. “Looks like we’re going to have to ride this out.”
The final twenty miles took them nearly an hour and a half, so by the time they exited the I-90 onto Main Street, four inches of snow had already covered the asphalt.
“Pizza Hut!” Brandon said, looking out his window. He turned to his father. “You think the food there might still be good? Maybe we can make a pizza.”
“Maybe,” Ash said.
“Probably best not to get your hopes up,” Josie told her brother.
“I know, but…it’d be great if we could.”
Josie shook her head, but Ash could tell she was hoping her brother was right.
“There’s a Super 8 motel up here on the left,” Matt radioed. “We’ll pull in and check it out. The rest of you stay in your vehicles.”
Chloe drove their Humvee into the lot and parked, leaving the motor running. Outside, snow swirled in the headlight beams as a brisk breeze rocked the truck. From their position, they could see a few lights on in the motel, but not much else.
“How are you feeling?” Dr. Gardiner asked Ash.
“Not as bad as I thought I’d feel,” Ash said, truthfully.
“Any unusual pains or discomfort?”
“Nothing that wasn’t there before we started.”
That seemed to be the answer the doctor wanted to hear. “I can give you some pain pills before you go to sleep tonight.”
“Keep them.”
Gardiner studied him for a moment. “Are you sure? It’ll help you sleep.”
“I’ll be fine,” Ash said.
“Good,” Gardiner said. “But no running around once we get out. I want you to find a bed and stay there.”
“I’ll make sure he does,” Josie said before her father could speak.
Ash raised an eyebrow. “Oh, you will, will you?”
“I will,” she said, meeting his stare.
The radio crackled.
“This is a bust,” Matt said. “Most of the rooms are…occupied. I checked the phone book. There are several more motels we can try.
“How about that one?” Josie said, pointing across the street.
Through the storm, Ash could see a weakly lit yellow sign with a word that looked like “motel” at the bottom. “Tell him,” he told her.
Chloe handed the microphone back to Josie. Tentatively, Josie pushed the talk button.
“Mr. Hamilton?”
“Who is this?”
“Josie.”
“Josie? What is it?”
“There’s a motel right across the street.”
Silence for a moment. “I can’t see anything from here,” Matt said.
Ash took the mic from his daughter. “It’s there, all right. We’ll swing over and check it out.”
“Okay. We’ll meet you there in a minute.”
The new place was called The Paradise Motel. It was one of those single-story structures like the Bates Motel from Psycho, hopefully minus the insane manager. Ash couldn’t see all the way to the back, but there had to be at least a dozen rooms.
Chloe parked the truck near the front. “Doc, you want to join me for a look around?”
“What? Me?” Gardiner said, surprised.
“Unless you think it’s all right for Ash to come along.”
“No. Of course not. I’ll, um—”
“I’ll go with you,” Lily said from the back.
“No, I’ll do it,” Brandon said.
“I don’t think so,” Ash said.
“Why not?”
Ash opened his mouth, but no response came to mind. Searching the motel would be nothing compared to the ordeal Brandon had gone through after Project Eden attacked the Ranch.
“It’s okay,” Gardiner said. “I can go.”
“No offense, Dr. Gardiner, but I have more experience than you,” Brandon said. He glanced toward Lily. “Than you, too.”
As much as he hated to admit it, Ash knew his son was right.
“You can go,” he said, “but only if you listen to everything Chloe tells you. She’s in charge.”
Brandon had the door open before his father had even finished. “Sure, sure. No problem.”
Brandon was too excited to feel the cold as he climbed out of the truck. He thought for sure his dad would not back down, but he had.
“Over here,” Chloe called from around the front of the truck.
As he jogged over, he said, “You want to start in the front and me in the back? Or the other way around?”