Free Fermata: The Winter: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Series (The Fermata Series: Four Post-Apocalyptic Novellas Book 1) by Juliette Harper Page B

startled her. Water sloshed onto the stove in a steaming hiss. Behind her, Hettie was tearing what looked like frayed work shirts into long strips.
    "He said make bandages," the woman said simply, her eyes round behind her glasses.
    "Where's Beth?"
    "By the fire," Hettie answered. "She knows to stay out of the way."
    "What did you do with our packs?"
    "They're by the door in case we have to run," Hettie answered, still ripping.
    Lucy started to say, "We can't run," but just then the man come out of the bedroom. He was rolling up his shirt sleeves.
    "The bullet missed her heart, but I think it nicked a lung. The shot was almost a through and through. I can feel it under the skin on her back. Getting it out will be an easy matter. Then we wait."
    That had been almost a week ago and they were still waiting. Lucy knew every sound the wind made as it filtered through the crevices in the walls. She recognized the squeaking of the floorboard in the kitchen and the guttering of the fire in the grate.
    The creaking of the bedroom door no longer made her turn. She knew their host by his footfall, and the smell of warm food told her he’d brought yet another bowl of soup.
    “Shall we try again to get her to eat a little?” he asked softly.
    When Lucy turned to meet his gaze, he smiled from behind his tiny eyeglasses. In spite of her growing anxiety, Lucy smiled back through eyes brimming with tears. “She hasn’t eaten in two days,” she whispered. “I’m scared.”
    Without warning, the figure in the bed whispered back, “Don’t be.”
    Lucy’s head snapped around. “Vick?”
    The woman’s eyes were open only a slit, but she was fully awake. “Where are we?” she asked.
    The man set the bowl down and drew closer. “You are in my home near the border with Canada. You’ve given us quite a scare, young lady.”
    “Hettie? Beth?”
    Lucy took her hand and thought she'd sob in relief when Vick's fingers curled around her own. “They’re fine. They’re in the next room.”
    The tired eyes opened a little more and worked to focus. “You?”
    “I’m okay, Vick,” Lucy said, but her voice broke. “Don't you go dying on me, okay?”
    “Don’t plan to,” she said. She squeezed Lucy’s hand and the ghost of a smile touched the corners of her mouth. For the first time in days, Lucy breathed.
    Worn out with the exertion, Vick's eyes were starting to close again. She struggled to speak again, and Lucy bent close to catch her words. "The dead?" Vick asked.
    Lucy put her mouth against the woman's ear. "Not for a week," she answered softly.
    "Keep watch," Vick said weakly. "Run if they come. Leave me. Promise?"
    Hot tears welled in Lucy's eyes, but she said, "I promise." She pressed a soft kiss against Vick's temple and said, "Sleep now. I've got this."
    Vick sighed and slipped back into unconsciousness.

Chapter Two

    Later that night, Hettie insisted on sitting with Vick, shooing Lucy out into the main room. Beth slept on a cot near the fire. When Lucy tucked the blanket closer around the child, she stirred. Lucy laid a gentle hand on her arm and waited for her to quiet. Then she moved to the hearth, appreciating the comfort and company of the flames.
    The kitchen floorboard sounded and the man came out holding two cups of coffee. Lucy accepted one gratefully and closed her eyes as she sipped the strong, hot brew.
    “I can put some whiskey in that,” he offered kindly.
    Lucy shook her head. “I’d be out like a light.”
    “You should rest,” he said, sitting down beside her.
    “Not yet,” she whispered, looking through the open door into the bedroom.  
    “I haven’t wanted to pry,” he said, putting his cup down and taking out a pipe. “But I think it’s time you told me.”
    He lit the tobacco with a thin sliver of kindling, the flame illuminating his lined features. Lucy had no idea how old he was, but she liked his face and trusted him intuitively. He'd spoken the truth. He wasn’t going to hurt