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Chapter Three
Finton
I didn’t know how my mate could do it. Or how I could. We’d been up since before dawn, carrying out the final tasks before leaving this place. Yesterday we had buried our dead, but today we burned our homes. One by one, standing by with buckets of water in case the fires tried to spread. Each a place of memories, filled with handmade or hard-earned items.
Our homes, the ones where we were raised were hard to destroy. Painful in the extreme. I thought they were the worst until we reached the cabin where we had planned to live. Standing outside, we stared at the door.
“I can’t.” I licked my dry lips, tasting dirt and soot and salt from the tears that fell and stopped and fell again. “Mate…it’s our home.”
“If only we hadn’t seen inside, it wouldn’t be so bad.” He dashed at his eyes, making them even redder than before.
I tugged his fingers away from his face. “You’re just irritating them, Mate. And we had no choice but to look inside. To see if anyone had sheltered there.”
“But, everything they did. If we burn it, we’re destroying all the love our family and friends put into preparing it for us. The new hand-hewn dining table and chairs, the quilts. The pottery…”
I tugged him to face me and gathered him in my arms, laying my cheek against his. “We aren’t destroying their love. Nothing can ever take that away. And, actually, for that reason, I’m glad we saw it all. It was probably the last thing they did together as a pack before whatever happened that struck them down. The only way we could destroy their love is if we rejected their gift. We wholeheartedly accept it, and if we could, I’d say let’s leave it for a while then come back and take what we can after it’s had a chance for the germs to die or whatever. If it’s something like that and not a chemical or other kind of poisoning. We’re likely all that’s left of our people, and our duty, is to, first, make this area safe so no one else is endangered then leave, so maybe we won’t suffer the same fate.” I rubbed our cheeks together. “Agreed?”
His sigh came from his toes. “I suppose, but it sure comes hard.”
“It does. But we’re not kids anymore, waiting for someone else to pick up the pieces, to make the decisions. We are mated adults who have to make the hard decisions and honor our ancestors, our families in that way.”
He nuzzled my throat, silent for a long moment then said, “I don’t like this adult crap, you know. I wish we could go back to when we were ten and our biggest worry was what creek to fish.”
I chuckled. “We had more worries than that. As I recall, we were in trouble most of the time because we were selecting creeks to fish instead of doing our schoolwork or chores. I guess every age has its troubles.”
“Like this?” He leaned back in my arms and studied my face. “Does every age have something this big?”
“No,” I admitted. “But every person has challenges that threaten to break them. I’m grateful I don’t have to face this one alone.”
“Me, too, Mate.” His eyes still glistened, but his lips set firm. “Let’s do this so we can move forward with our lives. I love you, Finton.”
“I love you, too, Trace. More than I ever dreamed I could love anyone. Should we take one more look at our cabin?”
“I’d like to.” His voice was so low, even right up against him, I could barely hear him. “If you’re okay with that?”
“I’m okay with anything we take on together.” We turned to face the door, arms around one another’s waists. “Ready?”
“Yes.” We reached out together and turned the doorknob then pushed the door inward. Everything inside was immaculate; we’d found nobody in there, so it was unmarred. The living/dining area with all the wood glowing with polish and care. A new quilt, some kind of star pattern in rich reds and blues, covered the oldish sofa we’d been gifted when we first moved in together. I’d planned to make a lot of furniture once things settled down, so everything was sparsely furnished so far. Woven place mats in those colors with a strand of green on the counter dividing the kitchen from the living area. The bedroom, where stood the one piece I had made for us, our bed, was also decorated with handmade objects and bedding… Every inch of the place reflected the love of our people for us, their good wishes for our mating.
In the end, we couldn’t do it. It was not safe, but safer than any of the others where bodies and evidence of their demise were possible sources of contagion. Not possible…they were contaminated. Was it illness, poisoning, or murder? We didn’t know, but for the time being, we found markers and paper in the desk and made warning signs then locked the cabin up tight. Maybe we’d find someone who could tell us what it was and whether it would ever be safe to return home or to gather even a few tokens.
Warning! Dangerous! Do not enter on peril of death.
Just the kind of sign you want to leave on your love nest.
