The Color of Jade (Jade Series Book 1) (3 page)

“We’ve been at the lake, and Trey is outside still,” I said, perplexed by his impatience.

“Did you talk to anyone?”

“No.”

“Did you go in to town?” He prodded.

“No... Kane… Why are you acting weird?”

The already worn rug softened Kane’s steps as he paced the floor and ran his hands through his dark hair. His eyes darted with impatience around the room as his silence told me something was wrong. He walked to the back door.

“Trey! Get in here!”

He sounded strained and a twinge of panic set in my stomach.

“What?” Trey asked. He gave Kane a puzzled look as he walked in with a string of twelve gutted fish ready for the freezer.

“Come here… Watch this!”

At first glance, the newscaster looked the same as usual, stiffly upright in his grey suit. His face caked with powder and his silver toupee slicked far to the left side, but as I watched him, I saw an underlying panic in his eyes. An unease that his staunch advertising image couldn’t mask.

“…Four hundred and fifty dead and thousands more sick from the virus in the United States,” he said, as beads of sweat glimmered on his forehead. He pressed them with a handkerchief. The three of us sat with our eyes glued to the television. My heart sank. I became numb and only heard random bits of his voice. “Deadly outbreak… attacked quickly…hospitals…on disaster alert… mid-morning, bombarded with deathly ill people.”

My attention turned to the clock on the kitchen wall, ten past eight. Two hours had passed.

“Is this really happening?” I asked Kane, shocked and in disbelief. “Here?”

“Yeah here!” Kane’s anxiety present in his sharp tone, still glued to the television. “Everywhere… Shh… Jade quiet!”

“Kane! Mom isn’t home yet!” My mom, a nurse at the city hospital. Suddenly I worried for her to the point I felt sick. I felt my breaths quicken. Panic surged in my chest.

Kane glanced at me for a second. My brow furrowed with worry. A lump rose in my throat and I swallowed hard to force it away. He spoke softer as he diverted his attention to me.

“I know. I called, several times... The hospital didn’t answer.”

My awareness flipped repeatedly from the television to the clock over the next two hours as newscaster continued to report. “People…stay in your homes.” We watched through the late hours of the night. “Six hundred and fifty eight dead… Mexico… Europe… a staggering three thousand… U.S…. numbers around the world… still unknown.”

“Do they have to keep those sirens on?” I asked. Neither of my brothers responded.    

With my eyes heavy, I fought to stay awake but the drone of the anchor’s voice made me sleepy. The billowy cushions called me as I slid deeper into the couch and let my eyes close. I couldn’t fight sleep anymore and drifted off in spite of the constant screech of the sirens. At some point, I must have fallen asleep because I woke instantly by the ring of the phone…

***

Emery shook me awake from my hellish nightmare. My dreams about that day, still as vivid and horrifying as the day it happened.

“Jade, wake up,” Emery said, “wake up, I hear something.”

Puzzled at first, I quickly sat up. “What?” I said, startled. Goose bumps crawled across my skin with chills as I scanned the room and focused on my surroundings.

“Someone’s downstairs,” she said, panic threaded in her voice, worry evident in her wide hazel eyes.

“It’s Trey,” I said, as I heard the familiar sounds of him working on his project. I headed to the basement, the usual scrap metal and equipment, strewn across his worktable against a wall in what used to be our family room. Trey had brought his project in from the barn. Not because he didn’t want to go out, but so he could stay close to Emery and me.

“Was he the guy from the truck?” I asked, curious about what he found out.

“He left with him, I followed them into the subdivisions,” he said, as his eyes averted mine.

“Did you find out anything?”

“Not sure, I need to talk to Kane about it,” he said, then looked at me with a stern glare, which meant stop asking questions. I changed the subject.

“How’s the windmill coming?”

“Just about to put it together… We really need it going, we need more power, eventually, we’re going to run out of fuel and the generator will be useless,” Trey said, as he talked about my dad’s rather large fuel supply. Once a convenience for the farm became a rare commodity.

“Is it actually going to work?”

“Yeah… I wish I could get my hands on some solar panels, but this will do,” Trey replied, he stood with his back straight and his shoulders squared in confidence and gave his work an approving glance. He stretched as he clasped his hands behind his head and stopped to take a break as he moved over to the couch.

“Will we be able to have hot water again?” I asked, as I sat next to Trey. He probably regretted ever telling me our water heater ran by electricity and not by natural gas since I’ve badgered him over needing hot water ever since.

“The windmill won’t power everything. We’ll have to decide what’s most important.” He gave me a sidelong glance, his eyes apathetic.

“Hot water,” I said, almost pouting.

“And the freezer and the fridge… The pump so we can have water in the first place, I doubt we’ll get to heat the water.”

The idea of a nice hot bath without having to boil water on the wood burning stove seemed important enough. I slid into the cushions of the couch as I wished for hot water. Out of everything we had to go without, no phone, no internet, no TV, no heat, no lights, that simple luxury of hot water, I’d missed the most.

“Maybe we can on really windy days,” he said, as he conceded to save my anguish.

He sounded hopeful and my spirits perked up some as I gave Trey a half-hearted smile. His usual sandy blond hair looked darker from the lack of the summer sun and hung longer than usual into his emerald green eyes as he glanced at me but he looked distant. Something weighed on his mind, but I knew he wouldn’t say. That was how he was, quiet when it came to his own stuff, but overprotective and opinionated when it came to problems for me.

Trey picked the tennis ball up off the floor and repeatedly tossed the ball in the air. Our dog, Gus, an old blue heeler, stayed fixed to the floor next to Trey. The poor old dog had definitely seen better days. Instead of jumping up for a game of fetch as he used to, Gus followed the motion of the ball with his eyes as he rested his head on his paws.

“I know Kane said not to use the radio but he’s been gone a long time,” I said, as I remembered the reason I came downstairs.

“No, it isn’t secure. I wouldn’t want to risk it.” My eyes drifted over to the ham radio that replaced the computer on the desk. I knew Kane had a CB in the truck. Trey sighed. “He will come back, Jade… and I’ll talk to him when he gets home,” he said, understanding my pain. I needed to feel the outside air in my lungs, on my face, through my hair.

“Thank you...” I cut myself off to blink back the tears.

“Everything will work out.”

“I hope so,” I sighed, then glanced at Trey as I stood, unable to believe him. His sympathetic eyes told me he understood. It wasn’t just about hot water. I couldn’t be trapped inside much longer, I needed to have control over something.

I grudgingly walked back upstairs and through the kitchen, while I purposely refused to look at the pantry. Emery’s help served more for the company than actually lightening the workload that needed done, but I needed the push to get started.

I found her in my parents’ room again sound asleep.  I climbed onto the bed and sighed as I picked a book off the nightstand curled myself around her. Unknowingly, she gave me just as much comfort that I provided her, but I wasn’t her only source for reassurance. As soon as she woke, she would ask for Kane. The amount of my effective consoling, dependent on whether Kane was home or not. She never truly felt safe anymore unless he was home.

I looked out the front room window into the inky darkness and waited for time to pass. A sliver of a moon hung in the sky and left very little light for Kane to get home by, too dark to travel without headlights. There must have been a thin layer of clouds because the stars seemed scarce and extra dull, leaving the nights sky black.

The worry I harbored for Kane caused a restlessness I couldn’t calm. I walked to the couch, settled into the cushions and sighed. Emery, wide-awake still thanks to her earlier naps paced the floor as she peeked out the window every three minutes, unwilling to go to bed until he got home.

I breathed a sigh of relief when the lights of the truck flashed quickly through the front room window spotlighting the framed pictures on the darkened wall. The familiar hum and the high-pitched whistle that came from a loose belt in the motor, more soothing and comforting than I thought.

Gus perked his head up towards the door with his ears erect and on guard then returned his head to his paws where he sat unmoved in front of the fireplace. I curled up my feet and wrapped my legs in a blanket, settling deeper into the cushions of the couch. The heavy stomp of Kane’s work boots scuffed over the front steps and finally pushed open the front door.

He hadn’t made it inside two steps before Emery ran and wrapped her arms around him. A surge of anger welled inside me for him being two days late, and then settled as he flashed me a weary smile. I glanced at the clock, eleven thirty.

“Hey lady bug,” he said, his nickname for her.

“You were gone too long,” she said, with pouty lips and scolded Kane with her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he chuckled, and hugged her back. “I’m home now and you should be in bed.”

She breathed an over-exaggerated sigh. “I’m going,” she said reluctantly, released him and headed for the stairs with a yawn. I knew immediately she felt secure again, I saw the calmness return to her eyes.

“Hey, Jade,” he said, then instantly gave me a harsh look under a stern brow as his eyes scanned over me. I shifted uncomfortably under his stare.

“What?” I asked, through droopy, bored eyes.

“Did you eat at all since I’ve been gone?”

“Of course,” I said, and then gave him a scowl of my own.

“You don’t look very good,” he said, as he walked over to me, his eyes critical as he grasped my thin arm in his hand. His fingers wrapped completely around it. Even he noticed an unhealthy change in my appearance, almost immediately.

“Thanks,” I scowled. With a fleeting glance, I looked down at my arm in his hand, and then looked back at him as I pulled it away. My bitterness grew as my insides coiled. “And you are a jerk.”

His eyes saddened and I looked away. “I meant… you look like you lost weight.”

“I’m fine,” I said, as I rolled my eyes. A knot grew instantly in my throat and I swallowed hard to force it away as a burning surfaced in my eyes. He walked into the kitchen and I followed in spite of the hurt I still felt as he headed for the stairs. Any hopes that he’d invite me down, vanished when I called him a jerk. He deserved it.

“You need to eat better,” he said, and then his heavy boots pounded against the stairs as he ran down them to find Trey.

“I will if you let me go outside,” I yelled, as he disappeared into the basement, unsure if he heard me. He didn’t include me in any of their discussions and I felt a pang of sadness tug at my chest that I wasn’t a part of them anymore.

Frustrated, I went to my kitchen duties that awaited my much-needed attention. I removed the cloth which lay overtop of the large tawny-colored crockery bowl and punched the air out of the rising dough.  With flour strewn across the counter, I dumped out the dough and started to knead. Carelessly and rushed I formed loaves and placed them in four already greased Dutch ovens. Two loaves to each Dutch oven with a metal sheet in between to keep them separated.

I listened to their muffled voices. Their obscure conversation floated through the vents into the kitchen as they talked and my ears perked, drawn to listen. I buttered the tops of the loaves and covered them with the cloth for a second rise. I brushed the flour from my hands against the legs of my pants with a puff then crept down to the bottom stairs and pressed my back into the wall, listening intently.

“Did you find Raύl in Mexico?” Trey asked. The sounds of the fire snapped and the glow of its light spilled in flickering waves into the hallway. I stood rooted to the floor in their long thin shadows, waiting for Kane to answer.

“Yeah, he came up with us and brought Chale and Elias with him.”

“What about Hector?”

“He’ll be up in two weeks.”

A hired hand originally from Mexico, Raύl, along with the help of his brother Hector, had been the head farm hand since my grandpa ran it. Maybe in his mid-forties, he had a wife and six kids and was like family.

Up until last September he lived in the old farmhouse, my grandpa’s first home, but took his family to Mexico for a visit before the virus hit. His only daughter Isabella was a friend of mine, the same age as Trey and I. His older boys, Chale and Elias were close to Kane’s age.

“It's bad all over. I can’t believe how vulnerable we are, Trey.”

“Did you find what you were looking for in Vegas?” Trey asked. My jaw dropped at the surprise that Kane went there. He stayed away from the big cities for the most part, as if the big city gangs weren’t dangerous enough before, the virus allowed for them to have full reign with nothing to stand in their way. To run into a gang was a sure way to end up killed. I wondered what he could possibly need from Vegas that he would risk his life and our safety to go there.

“Yeah.” I heard Kane sigh, his voice lightened, alleviated with finality. “It’s worked out.”

“I hope you’re not making a mistake by trusting them.”

“I never said I trusted them,” he paused with apparent reluctance. I jumped, slightly startled as three loud thuds echoed in the hearth of the brick fireplace as one of them threw a few logs in. “I need what they have, and they need to eat, so-”

“A guy named Rubin came by today… with that truck that’s been hanging around, looking for you,” Trey said, I heard the brush of his footsteps against the carpet as he started to pace. The sound of his voice grew distant then close again as he neared the door. I froze against the wall. “He didn’t seem very friendly… I followed them to a house. Damian was driving, but you already know that it’s him, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Kane conceded with discouragement heavy in his voice. My mouth gaped open with a raise of my eyebrows and my insides bristled at the newly discovered identity of the dark figure behind the wheel of that truck. “The Jackson’s work with-”

“The Jackson’s? There’s more than one?” His voice grew distant again. I peeked around the corner to see them, both with their backs turned to me as Trey continued to pace and Kane sprawled out on the couch with his feet up, probably tired from his trip.

“Yeah, Damian has two brothers and his dad. Quinn is the oldest. He’s just as corrupt, worse, just like their old man. His younger brother Casey… I haven’t made up my mind about him yet,” Kane said, and then moved quickly to a sitting position as he ran his hands through his dark hair. Exhaustion evident in the worn planes of his face as he glanced at Trey. “They work for a man named Morrison. Rubin is his son.”

“What did he want?” Trey asked, as he leaned against the table with his arms folded and his legs crossed at the ankle.

“Morrison organized the cleanup. I’ve decided he’s no good, ruthless. I don’t like any of them and people just let him come in here and take over without questioning his tactics or motives. He’s not even from here and people trust him like he’s lived here forever,” Kane said, he walked to the table where Trey stood and flipped a chair around. His legs straddled it as he sat and folded his arms over the back. “People are afraid of him and turn a blind eye. Most of the old timer’s I’ve talked to don’t trust him. They’re just too old to do anything about him. By the way, did you check on Taggart down the street?”

“Yeah, the old man’s fine.”

“I think Morrison is up to something, I’m just not sure what it is yet,” Kane said, he bounced his knees in a jumpy release of tireless energy. Ready to move at a moment’s notice, for what I wasn’t sure.

“What does that have to do with us?” Trey asked. He handed the windmill fan to Kane. It looked heavy and took up the whole table.

“I don’t trust them, any more than they trust me, I guess…” Kane inspected the curved, carefully cut blades and handed it back to Trey to return it to the worktable. “Looks good…  Rubin probably wanted to know why our family wasn’t represented at the meeting or why I haven’t been in town helping?”

“I can go to the meetings in your place if we need to. He asked where you were.”

“I still want your focus on building us an energy source… but we might have to send you to a few meetings. What did you tell him?”

“Nothing...”

“Morrison wants to know whenever anyone leaves town. I think it’s none of his business and I don’t like it that he thinks he needs to keep track of everyone that way,” Kane said, his arms tensed as he gripped the back of the chair.

“Okay… and?”

“These meetings are to discuss his plan, about how things will be done… But his way. At first, it was just about the cleanup. He organized everything and it ran smoothly, but after I watched him go through the city hall with a fine toothed comb then burn everything that wasn’t useful to him I just started to lose my trust in him. He’s perverse with strange ideas and somehow he’s convincing people to follow him.”

“What does this have to do with Jade not leaving the house?” Trey asked. He stood upright and rested his hands at his waist. The glow of the fire cast a dark shadow across half of his face.

Kane sighed, then picked up a pencil off the utility table and flipped it up and down between his fingers. He stood tightlipped and paced the basement floor, choosing his words.

“Jade…” He sighed. Unable to avoid the question any longer he flung the pencil out of frustration. It skidded along the table and fell to the floor. “You mean besides the cleanup that still needs to be done… It’s still a mess out there and Jade and Emery don’t need to see it.”

“I’ve seen kids around, younger than Emery. I didn’t think it looked that bad when I went out.”

“Yeah, here in Little Creek it’s not so bad. You haven’t seen the city... I’m surprised we can’t smell the burning bodies from here... The closer you get to the city, the stronger the smell is, not to mention the more stranger and untrusting people get.” Kane stopped pacing. He ran fingers through his hair then continued to wear a trail into the carpet. “People are starting to make their way out of their homes but it still isn’t safe.”

“It will be years if we ever get to a point of being safe like before, if ever in our lifetime and you know it. Sooner or later she’s going to need to see the world how it is now.”

“I know.”

“So, besides all that why can’t Jade go out? Just around home. She doesn’t need to go
out there…
” Trey hesitated, pointing out into the unknown with a wave of his hand. “She just wants to go outside and I agree with her, it’s not healthy to be locked inside. I’ll support you
if it has to be that way
… but make sure… it’s a hard sentence for her... like being locked in a prison.”

“Maybe I’m overreacting… but, I don’t trust them,” Kane sighed with resignation, then reluctantly continued. “Damian has asked me about her... I don’t know what he wants with Jade,
or how he even knows who she is,
but it’s starting to really bug me… Every time I see him, he has something to say, and now he’s parking down the street… I just need more time to figure out their plan. The last thing I need is Damian over here harassing her when I can’t be here all the time. It’s just better if…”

“If what? He thinks she’s dead. You can’t keep her inside forever. You can’t do that to her and if we are going to have food again this winter, I’m going to need her help.”

“What do you expect me to do about it, Trey?”

“I don’t know,” Trey paused, “let her go outside, around here. We’ll just have to deal with Damian, if it comes to that.”

“It will, Trey. My gut tells me Damian won’t let it go once he finds out she’s alive,” Kane hesitated as if he contemplated the risks. He took a deep breath and released it quickly. “To be completely honest with you, I think he already knows. That must be why he’s been coming around.”

“How old is he?”

“A year older than me… Twenty two.”

“But she’s only…”

“Fifteen,” Kane added.

“Sixteen,” Trey corrected, “she’s sixteen, Kane. We had a birthday… you weren’t here.”

“Oh, that’s right. Sorry…I’ll have to fix that,” Kane’s voice trailed off. He sighed, pressing his thumbs into his temple and rubbed. “Anyways… look at her. She’s not a kid anymore. She just doesn’t quite know it yet. Don’t tell me you haven’t noticed. Damian sure has.”

“If I was blind, which I’m not, I’ve had enough guys tell me to know that my sister is hot.”

“I know. I’ve heard enough of it myself. But, this is different… the Morrison’s, the Jackson’s… I’m telling you, they are dangerous and we need to be careful. It’s not a good time to be a young girl, let alone a beautiful one…you figure it out.”