The Last Stand (Book 3) (The Repentant Demon Trilogy) (7 page)

“I was unforgivably rude just now,” said Abigail, with reserve, like a child being forced to apologize for breaking a treasured object.  “I was shocked and surprised, but that is no excuse.  My faith requires that I forgive you, and I want to… intend to.  But I have to be honest and say that I'm not quite there yet.  I hope you'll give me some time.  And if you'd be willing to talk with me about it all, that might help.  But I know that might be painful for both of us, so I understand if you don't want to do that.”

“Abby… I heard Cal call you that.  Is it okay for me to do so as well?” she asked, then proceeded as Abigail nodded affirmatively.  “It is beyond my wildest dream that I would ever see you again.  Even that is enough for me, so I don't even expect you to forgive me.  If it would help you to talk, of course I am willing to do anything to make you feel better.”

“You know, that pot of chicken n' dumplins' is still on the stove,” said Brady, “Anybody
hungry
?”

“My stomach doesn't feel so good,” said Abigail, “I've had bouts with morning sickness at all hours, and being emotional like this doesn't help, I guess.  But I'm sure Cal is
starving
.  And I hate to admit it, but I love watching him eat.”

“Well this
is
something I've never had before,” he admitted, “You know how I am all about new foods,” he hinted at Abigail, referring to his ambition to try every food in the world.

“Would you like some crackers, Abby?” offered Uma.  “That's supposed to help.  However, I'm convinced that a little ginger ale
works
wonders,
as it did for me when I was carrying you.
  Ginger is a natural stomach settler.”

“I'll try that,” she replied, “Any advice is welcome.  I hope this phase passes
soon
.”

They sat back down at the little wooden table.  Brady served up bowls of the hot
cuisine, while
Uma got drinks for everyone.  Abigail sipped the ginger ale and seemed to feel better almost immediately.

“I remember this,” she said, as if in a reverie.  “Not a scene, exactly, but I remember the smell.   It's something from my past, something very unique.”  She took the edge of Cal's bowl and pulled it in front of her, inhaling the aroma closer.

“This is nothing like the typical recipe you would find in a restaurant, or worse
, like from a can
,” she said.  “I remember the goodness of this.  It was very special.”

“I make the broth with lots of celery, but I strain it out because you never liked to bite into celery,” said Uma handing her a spoon, and Abigail took a sip.  “And the
most
common dumplings are big puffy things,
almost
like biscuits.  I make mine like thick, flat noodles.”

“It's amazing,” said Abigail, closing her eyes and remembering, “The taste, the smell, the whole feeling.  I remember eating this… and feeling loved.”

“You were loved, Sunshine… I mean Abby,” Uma said enthusiastically, “We loved you so much, but we were stupid.  Our whole lives were about feeling good.  That was our religion.  Your father and I smoked a lot of pot, and we started selling it just to pay for our own supply.  Then we dabbled in selling harder stuff, though we never used it.  I had seen what it did to people, and we were both afraid to touch anything but marijuana.  That's how we were busted and went to jail.  I was out of it for quite a while; devastated at losing both you and your father.  Wolf-song was killed in a prison fight after about six months into his sentence.  Then a few years later, when they came to me with papers to give up my parental rights, I thought it was best for you.  I felt like I'd been a terrible parent and that anyone would be better than me.  Besides, I had eight years yet to serve.  What choice did I have with no relatives to keep you for me?”

“You did do the right thing,” said Abigail, who had completely confiscated Cal's bowl.  Brady got him another.  “The two years in four different foster homes was horrible.  But then I was adopted by a wonderful family.  The Fitzgerald’s gave me love, security, and a faith that has made all the difference in my life.  I had six brothers and sisters.  We
all
had wonderful times together until everyone except my mother and I were killed in a tragic highway accident.  She was left paralyzed in a wheelchair and died in 2008.  I truly loved that amazing woman.”

“It eases my pain a lot to know that,” said Uma, sitting beside her.  “Thank you for telling me.”

Abigail reached out for her, and Uma
fell into an embrace with
her long lost daughter.  Then Abigail began to cry in huge sobs, more like an eight-year-old child being taken from her mother's arms than a grown woman.  They hugged hard, and Uma rocked her until she had cried herself out.  When she stopped her face seemed peaceful, and she smiled at the fact that she had eaten an entire bowl of Uma's chicken n' dumplin's.

Abigail helped with the dishes, and the men went to the living room talking about hunting and fishing.  Uma, who did not have a written recipe, promised to show Abigail how to make a meal just like the one they had eaten.  By the time Abigail and Uma joined them, Cal was telling what he knew of the terrorist plot.

“Well we're sitting ducks!” exclaimed Brady.  “This is a military target sure to be attacked in an all-out war.  What are they doing setting up a residential area inside an armed base?”

“They seem to be very
confident
about their ability to protect us,” said Cal, “I saw a lot of military equipment inside the mountain.  Tanks, guns, fighter jets, even a Patriot missile launcher.  There are several floors of living quarters in there, too.  I saw huge generators that supply air, water, and power.  Agent Foley said they could take us all inside if there was any danger of radioactive fallout.  He said we could live inside there for years.”

“This is certainly not like any other war we've ever fought before,” mused Brady.  “But the people around here are not going to come begging the government for help.  They're going to hunker down in their own homes.  Most of them routinely stock up and prepare for unexpected emergencies, especially heading into winter.  Out here you get snowed in or some volcano threatens to erupt often enough to provide plenty of opportunities to learn survival skills.  The kids around here are raised like that.  Most of
the residents
are descended from sturdy mountain people.  They'll stand their ground against any rag-heads that might dare to step on their land.  I can't see them running inside some mountain to hide.”

“That might not be a good thing,” said Cal.  “not if there's a danger from radiation.  Their guns and survival skills aren't going to protect them from cancer.”

“You might be right about that,” said Brady, thoughtfully.  “So you think we can take on another six thousand visitors, Uma?”

“I'm feeling kind of glad they'll be at the government's door instead of ours,” she said.  “At least these two cabins were built with nice basements.  Those cracker-box buildings they're putting up by the lake don't look safe to me.  Let those people go inside the mountain.  I'll stay here.”

“Actually, they are fairly safe,” said Cal.  “True, they don't have basements, but they're per-fabricated out of cement board and heavy lumber.  From the outside, they appear to be a typical ranch-style house, but inside they have protective glass windows like
those
made for
automobile windshields
and they seal up tight.  They don't have air
filtration systems, but at least when they get back
into their homes from the mountain facility they'll know
they will be
safe from radiation.”

“What if we're hit by bombs?” Brady asked next.

“The Patriot missiles should be able to shoot down anything coming by air,” explained Cal, “and they're located high up in the mountain from a vantage point where they can fire from any direction.
”

“There are two other set-ups like this one, in Colorado and Montana. The president, his cabinet, and members of Congress have a similar
underground
fortification in the east.  But if that part of the country is completely devastated, who knows when they'll be able to come out, or where they'll go after that.  Can you envision a country governed by people
you may never again see in person? 
It's like science fiction.  Our
Supreme Master
whom we only know from seeing his face on a video screen.”

“But what really concerns me,” Cal continued, “is all the people out there, the every day working people in Missouri and Alabama and Connecticut.  All of those people who will have nowhere to run.  They're all going to die.  If
the
thirty targeted nuclear plants, excluding the three we will be able to stop, are successfully
attacked,
thirty hydrogen bombs will go off. 
These have been
strategically
chosen in order
to destroy our infrastructure,
causing
maximum fatalities and untold horror. 
The experts
estimate
a
loss of over three million lives and economic losses of over three trillion dollars.  If 9-11 was bad, this is a thousand times worse.  While we're busy recovering from theses attacks, they're going to strike Israel, then easily take over all of Europe with hardly a shot being fired.  Europe is already sixty per cent Muslim.  I wasn't supposed to
talk about
any of this, but I'm no Rick Foley.”

“So how did you end up in Wyoming?” asked Abigail, changing the subject as she
noticed the
stunned silence in the room.  “And how did you meet Brady McFarland?” she said, addressing Uma.

“I worked in his restaurant after I got out of prison,” Uma answered, not wanting to hear any more about the coming war.  “He was the only one who would give me a job.  Said he liked my cooking… that's why he married me.  I'm convinced he did it to get himself a free cook for the restaurant.  So we had a little place on Cherokee Street called
Brady's
.  Then, five years ago Brady inherited this place from his uncle.  It was a dream come true for both of us.   Of course, it wasn’t a vacation resort back then.  We borrowed hundreds of thousands to make it what it is now.

“He had always loved rural life,” she continued.  “When I met him, he had just recently arrived in Saint Louis to pursue his dream of owning his own restaurant, but he
had
never quite
completely
adapted to city life. 
Brady had been raised
on a farm in Barnett, Missouri.  They grew corn on six hundred acres amidst the Mennonite communities. 
He still to this day doesn’t care to eat corn, no matter how I fix it.
When his dad died and left the farm to him he sold it to invest in
Brady's
.  But even though the
business
was a success, the neighborhood started going bad, and he regretted leaving behind his quiet rural life.”

“It was when the gangs started moving in,” added Brady.  “The quaint little area where we lived above the restaurant just changed almost overnight.  Everything I had was tied up in the
restaurant
, so I really felt stuck there until Uncle Lenny died.  I had only met him once, so I was shocked that he left his estate to me.  This place was one of the few parcels of land out here that was privately owned.   We were so happy renting out the cabin to nice families on vacation.  Met a lot of nice people.  It was like a miracle coming here.”

“I believe in miracles,” said Abigail.  “Cal thinks it was God that brought us all together here.  I agree with him.”

“Maybe you're both right,” said Brady, “If
it’s
God working
His will
through all of this, then I feel like maybe somehow
we will be
blessed with his protection.  We're definitely all in the middle of something pretty awesome.  Something major is happening here.”

Angel went to the door and whimpered that she had to go potty.  That was about the time the visitors decided they needed to go home.  They had called it home for the first time, and Abigail wondered how it would be if they stayed there forever.

The angel Ashriel had called them a new Adam and Eve.  And Cal, the former demon Calumnius, had chosen to fight for humanity over an option of becoming an angel—his heartfelt dream.  Yet, he hadn't even hesitated to consider the thing he'd wanted so badly for eons of time.  He loved Abigail that much, as well as the humans he had once hated.  And he now loved God, too, with his whole heart—his beating human heart.  As many stories that had been written about kingdoms cast aside for love, this was a story truly greater than any of those.