Midnight, Anna Dove [ebook smartphone .TXT] 📗

same way as I do. There will be no intruders. Breathe easy, take naps, read the books I have, do whatever you like to pass the time in a pleasant way. We will leave for the Harbor at dusk, but until then, push it from your minds. Think of today as if you were paying me a visit. It will help you unwind. I’ll be out in the gardens and around the farm, preparing food and setting up the animals for my absence. You’re welcome to join, but also I advise you to rest.”

For the most part, they heeded her advice, after availing themselves to help clean up the breakfast mess. Junetta had compiled over the years a massive array of books, and in fact they were so numerous that they refused to be contained to one large oaken bookshelf, but rather spilled out--it wasn’t their fault, they couldn’t help it--onto tabletops and counters and shelves and in between the railings of the staircase. Carlos buried himself in a history of British economics in the nineteenth century; Elizabeth perused Gone with the Wind and Haley found one of her favorite childhood books, Little Women.

Junetta was right; the atmosphere of safety and leisure did help them to relax a little after their escape from Arlington. In the afternoon, Haley joined Junetta as the older woman laid out bales of hay in the barn that adjoined the pasture, as supplemental feed for the horses. They tossed down hay bales from the top of the barn, and then hauled them onto the floor and separated the sections. Only a few bales of hay, stipulated Junetta--they would mold in a week or two, but the seventy six acres of grass would be enough to sustain the horses through the summer. The two women walked the perimeter of the fenced field, opening the gates that led to the pasture and tying them open with twine. The pasture bordered a stream; the horses would drink at its banks.

“I hope I’m back before the apples rot,” said Junetta.

“Won’t the chicken eggs rot too?”

“No, in a few days the snakes will find them. I’m always battling blacksnakes for egg rights.”

They finished preparing the barn, and opened the stalls of the two horses (a Palomino and an Appaloosa) that Junetta kept, and the three that had arrived the night before. The horses trotted out into the pasture, high spirited and whinnying in the fresh April breeze. Junetta’s eyes followed them woefully.

“Horses are the most beautiful creatures,” she said. “Just the most amazing.”

With that, she turned to her granddaughter and they trekked back up to the farmhouse, where Carlos had stretched out for a nap and Elizabeth was reading absorbedly.

Junetta prepared another meal. They ate in the late afternoon and then all took a long nap.

When they awoke, the shadows were long. Junetta got up and prepared food, and packed it in burlap bags. Carlos and Elizabeth cleaned out the trash and old food from their packs, washed their knives, loaded the group’s firearms, and replenished the supply of matches. Haley cleaned all the water bottles and filled them with cold well water.

When darkness fell, they made their way out of the house, and Junetta locked the door and pocketed the key.

The half-moon had thinned ever so slightly from the night before, and the sporadic cloud cover cast into obscurity the usually bright stars. It was darker than they had yet experienced, and their eyes strained somewhat, only able to discern fifteen or so feet in front of them. Their bags and packs strapped to their backs, they walked in silence, for as sight decreased, sound became of the utmost importance. The trees rustled softly, and the bugs whizzed by, and their shoes occasionally snapped a dead twig or crackled a stiff leaf.

Making their way southeastwards through farmland and woodland, they passed dark farmhouses and climbed under white fence rails to walk through pasture. An occasional cow raised its heavy head to regard them with apathetic observation, before returning to graze.

After a period of time that seemed much longer than it actually was, they arrived at the outskirts of Annapolis, on Jennifer Road. Junetta waived them to a halt.

“Now we go quickly down Admiral Drive to West Street. There is no other way—so we must be as quick as we can. Stay to the right side.”

As they entered the street, the familiar scene of abandoned, crashed automobiles met their eyes. Rapidly they moved past the twisted metal frames and frayed rubber, their eyes and ears tuned for any movement or sound on the street. Junetta led the front and Carlos brought up the rear.

Abruptly Junetta stopped, and Haley almost collided with her. Junetta was stone still, watching something, and listening.

“Everyone, fall back against the wall,” murmured Junetta, motioning to the brick building to their right. Quietly, speedily they stepped towards it and flattened their backs against it. Haley grasped the handle of her handgun and drew it out slowly, clicking the safety off with her thumb.

Through countless trail rides at night, late nights feeding farm animals, and lack of exposure to  electronic light in cell phone or computer screens, Junetta had developed a remarkable night vision. She could see twice as far as the others, and her eyes were particularly tuned to movement that would threaten her. This skill was invaluable in the current moment and the others waited for Junetta’s command, knowing that they were best off listening to her.

They held their breaths, as a lone figure came into view in the middle of the street, a young woman, crying quietly. She did not notice them but passed them slowly, her shoulders stooped and her hands raised to her forehead. The woman approached one of the wrecked cars fifteen yards from where they stood watching. She sat down on the road next to it and rocked back and forth,