Safe Passage: The Road Ahead

SAFE PASSAGE: THE ROAD AHEAD CLAY WISE CONTENTS 1. ~ 1 ~ 2. ~ 2 ~ 3. ~ 3 ~ 4. ~ 4 ~ 5. ~ 5 ~ 6. ~ 6 ~ 7. ~ 7 ~ 8. ~ 8 ~ 9. ~ 9 ~ 10. ~ 10 ~ 11. ~ 11 ~ 12. ~ 12 ~ 13. ~ 13 ~ 14. ~ 14 ~ 15. ~ 15 ~ 16. ~ 16 ~ 17. ~ 17 ~ 18. ~ 18~ 19. ~ 19 ~ 20. ~ 20~ 21. ~ 21 ~ 22. ~ 23 ~ 23. ~ 24 ~ 24. ~ 25 ~ 25. ~ 26 ~ 26. ~ 37 ~ 27. ~ 28 ~ 28. ~ 29~ 29. ~ 30~ 30. ~ 31~ 31. ~ 32 ~ About the Author 1 ~ 1 ~ “What the hell does that mean? We have to talk about what comes next for us?” I ask, sounding a bit angrier than I intended. “Yeah, is this some sort of trick? You were nice to us, and now you’re going to trap us here?” Stasia asks. “Because that’s going to cost you a lot of bloodshed.” Mary shakes her head and smiles at us. “Whoa, whoa,” she says, putting up her hands. “It’s nothing like that. This isn’t The Walking Dead.” Cayley looks at me, and I look back at Mary. “Then what does it mean?” “It means exactly what I said,” she says. “We should talk about what you guys are going to do next.” “Oh,” I say, suddenly feeling like an idiot. “I just thought…” “It’s okay,” Mary says, slapping me on the arm. “I get it. Trust is a thing of the past.” “Not if you find the right people,” I reply, my eyes passing over our little group and ending with Mary. She smiles at me and chuckles to herself. “That’s very true.” “As for us,” I say. “We have to move on.” Mary nods and sighs. “I won’t say I’m happy about it. We certainly could use people like you. It would have made us stronger, but I understand. We all must find our own place in this new world.” “Yeah. That’s for sure.” “Do you have to leave immediately?” Mary asks. I look at the rest of the group. “It’s not like we’re on a schedule,” I reply, “but can you give us a few minutes?” “Of course,” she says before collecting the wrappings from lunch and tossing them into the cardboard box. After Mary heads back across the little park toward the store to return the box, I look at the others. “I’m not going to make this decision alone,” I say. “We need to talk about it, and then we’ll decide what’s best.” The others nod, and I sigh quietly. We sit for a few seconds, and no one says anything. “If no one’s going to start, I guess I will,” I say. “I don’t think staying here for a little while is a bad idea. Heather is still recovering and could do with some time off the road.” “I’m fine,” Heather says. I look over at her and frown. “You’re not fine,” I say. “Cayley said you could use a week of rest.” “I don’t want to be the reason we lose time getting to Seattle,” Heather says. “Like I said, we don’t have a schedule,” I say. “It’s better that it takes us a little longer to get there than to get there with one less of us.” Everyone nods their agreement, including Heather. “So, what does everybody say?” I ask, looking over at Avah. “I wouldn’t mind a few days off,” she says with a grin. “I’m good with staying for a few days,” Gino adds. Stasia just shrugs, and when I look at Cayley, she smiles at me. “I’m with you whatever you decide,” she says. “All right then.” I look over toward the little row of shops and businesses, and I spot Mary walking back across the street toward us. She waves and smiles, and I do the same. When she reaches us, she looks at the rest of the group. “It seems like you’ve made a decision,” she says. “We have,” I reply. “Are you going to keep me in suspense?” she asks, grinning at me. “No,” I reply. “We’re going to stick around for a few days to let Heather heal up a little.” “That’s wonderful,” Mary replies, an excited expression on her face. “We should find you all some place to sleep while you’re here.” “We appreciate that, Mary, and maybe after that, you can put us to work.” “Work?” “You’ve given us food, shelter, and medical care. We don’t take those things lightly, and we don’t expect things to just be given to us. We can all pull our weight except maybe Heather,” I say, looking over at her and giving her a friendly wink. “Hey. I can still do stuff,” she says. “I’m sure you can,” Mary says. “If that’s how you all feel, I’m sure we can use the help.” “Good. Let’s get started.” Mary leads us out of the park and across the main street toward a short row of small houses about one block south of the city center. She stops in front of the second one, a little, two-story, blue and white farmhouse with a large front porch. “This should work for you guys,” she says as she starts up the little walkway. “This is too big,” I say. “Nonsense,” Mary says, waving off my concern. “It’s not being used at the moment, and you’ll have plenty of room.” We climb the steps, and Mary stops and looks at us. “I would give you the tour, but it’s just a bunch of places to sleep,” she says with a grin. “I think you can handle it on your own. Anyone who wants to do some work should follow me back to town, and the others can freshen up the place. No one’s been