Ash: Book One in the Rising Ash Saga by R.G. Westerman

Author:R.G. Westerman [Westerman, R.G.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2016-06-06T16:00:00+00:00

Three

Marcus picks the lower level of the stainless steel rolling table as the place he wants to sleep. I place the leftover garbage in the corner before I head back to the main part of the restaurant to finish securing the perimeter while Rachel tucks Marcus in. In the looming silence of the oncoming night, I hear her sing to him. She has found a pile of clean aprons and table cloths to build a small nest for him. The fire, now nothing more than glowing embers, would be enough to keep us warm until morning.

Rachel joins me after a few moments, pushing quietly through the swinging door from the kitchen.

“Need some help?” she asks.

“I'm nearly finished, I think.”

All of the furniture is pushed against the windows, creating a semblance of a wall around us. The only thing that might be a threat to us would be a large herd, but I can detect them from a long distance. We can take measures for safety should that happen.

“Looks good,” she says glancing around the room.

All of the tables had been moved out of the center, pushed over on edge along the perimeter. The restaurant looks strangely bare. I sit down on the small staircase leading from the bar area down to the empty center. Rachel sits down next to me.

“How's Marcus doing?” I ask.

“He's sleeping now. I've never seen him go out so fast. We've had a hard road lately. I'm glad he is safe for tonight.”

“That's good.”

“How long have you been out there?” she asks.

“I don't know. A long time I think.” I glance over. She is watching me with intensity behind her expression, lips pursed, eyebrows drawn together. “I um... I can't remember a lot of things.” I tap on the side of my head with my fingertip. “It comes and goes. It's been this way for as long as I know.”

“What happened?” she asks. “I mean before. What was your life? How did you end up alone?”

“That's one of the things gone. I have a few flashes, but that's about it.”

“You must have some idea.”

“Not really. I mean, I remember there was a woman wearing white. I can't remember her face, just kind of a presence. That's about all. I remember being younger, much younger, and she read to me. That's all I know.”

“Was she your mother?”

“I don't think she was.”

“You have been out in this all alone since you were eight years old?”

“I suppose I have.”

Rachel shifts, adjusting to face me. “Let me ask you a question. Earlier you said you would go out and collect firewood.”

“Right.” I feel a nudge of suspicion.

“I asked if I could help and you said no. I know it is dangerous out there, but even so. Why didn't you let me come with you?”

I turn away from her, staring forward. “I understand what you are thinking. To you, I look like a young girl. I get it. But I've been out there. You have seen that I can handle myself.” I trusted her to an extent, but I do not want to tell her everything.

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