That night, Grissom can't sleep. Instead, he sits up and reads The Book from cover to cover. The next night, he does it again.
00oo00
Sara reads The Book in the daytime, propping it up at the table over breakfast. She uses one of the blank pages in the front to start a new shopping list that includes prenatal vitamins, and hopes it's not too late for them to do any good. She counts back and estimates the conception, then counts ahead to estimate the birth.
September.
A Libra.
00oo00
A week later, they wake up and the air is strange and still. Grissom checks the skies as he does the chores, feeling slightly anxious. Something inside urges him to bring in extra water, and move some of the old hay bales from the loft down into the stable. Bucky, Regina and Fred stay closely huddled, their coats shaggy now.
Still alert, Grissom gets the ladder out from the storage shed and climbs up on the roof. He stands and looks around. The sky is a dull pewter, thick with clouds and he can smell a hint of ozone.
And more astonishing than that, far off to the East, he sees smoke. A thin tall plume of it.
A campfire, or a chimney.
00oo00
The storm hits.
First the wind starts up, whipping through the trees and howling along the edges of the cabin. Sara helps Grissom close and bolt the window shutters. They undo one end of the clothes line to let it flap free in the gusts. Grissom grabs loose items and tosses them in the storage shed: the water buckets, the rakes and shovels, the little workbench. He padlocks it and heads into the cabin, bolting the door behind him. The place is dark except for the fire and a few candles.
Sara has soup on.
00oo00
Three days. The snow keeps falling. They let Bruno out once each day and he's back in ten minutes, cold and whining. Grissom goes to the barn to pour boiling water on the ice in the trough there, and check on the goats. He milks Regina, who complains about his cold hands.
Sara teaches Grissom the ultimate cut-throat version of Monopoly—the one that requires private loans from the bank, and sexual favors for passage through hotels on Park Place. Grissom is a quick learner, and creates the Free Parking Hand Job, and the Short Line Lap Dance.
Somehow losing seems to be more fun, Sara decides.
00oo00
When the wind and the snow finally stop, the quiet is overwhelming. They come outside, bundled and blinking against the whiteness. Sara pours the boiling water down the well as Grissom strains against the pump. It takes nearly two pots full, but when the ice cracks down below they both grin.
The goats romp out in the snow, then romp back into the stable. Regina looks pissed, going by goat expressions, and Sara laughs. Bruno is plowing his own trails through, snorting and bounding along.
Grissom tries to turn the engine over in the truck. After a few panicky moments it catches and rumbles.
00oo00
By now Sara has eaten beans and rice with every condiment possible, outside of chocolate sauce. And even that combination is starting to look good to her.
00oo00
Another month passes, and Sara feels thicker. She finds herself rubbing her stomach at times during her sponge baths in front of the fire. She and Grissom have talked about seeking out the mysterious neighbor to the East—if they spot the smoke again, they will.
With precautions, of course.
00oo00
The smoke is still there, rising up in a straight line from a spot Grissom judges to be about four miles over. They've decided to go together—Sara won't let Grissom go alone, and he can't really blame her. He figures with two shotguns and a dog, they're going to have the advantage of whatever or whoever they find.
He hopes.
But sooner or later they're bound to make contact, and Grissom is determined to make the encounter planned rather than surprise. They pack up a few items for possible trade, load the guns, and start out at mid morning. The snow has melted down, and the sky is clear. They lock up the cabin and the stable, then head east.
00oo00
Sara fights from rolling her eyes when Grissom suggests a break. She reminds him she's pregnant, not an invalid. He says the break is for him, since he hears something. He searches around and spots a fallen tree, then steps over to it. Sara listens carefully and she hears it too.
A low humming sound.
She shoots a delighted grin at Grissom, who nods back, and points to the broken end of the tree, where the sound is louder. Grissom grumbles about not having a spray can as he ties his red muffler around the nearest tree, putting it high enough to be seen.
They move on, checking the compass and looking for high ground; for signs of life.
They find them.
00oo00
Down in a little valley is a parking lot and a ranger station. At least, it used to be a ranger station. Now there are piles of wood stacked outside it, and several deer hides over the windows. Smoke rises from the chimney, and Grissom notes that the snow has been cleared from the front door to the outhouses several yards away.
A quick conference; Grissom convinces Sara to stay out of sight while he goes down. She keeps Bruno. One whistle for all clear; two for run. Not perfect, but they're both nervous and excited too.
00oo00
The woman who answers the door has a shotgun too, but as Sara watches through the binoculars, she sees Grissom talking; the woman nodding and finally breaking into a huge smile. Behind the woman is a stirring and a boy appears, blinking in the sunlight. Sara starts moving even before Grissom blows the whistle.
00oo00
Melissa Sanchez-Brown. Divorcee, thin, wiry, tough. Fifteen years service as a Forest Ranger. Her son, Will, twelve. They began stockpiling and setting up six months into H5N1, but a tree fell on their cabin and took off a third of the roof, so they moved into the ranger office in mid-November.
Yes, that was her deer; she twisted an ankle going after it and never got a second shot off. They've got a crank radio too, and a gas generator so they've been in touch with broadcasters out of Reno and Vegas.
It's closer to eighty percent, according to the official numbers, she tells them. She can add them to the count of survivors for Nevada, if they want. That way if anybody's looking for them . . .
00oo00
The four of them talk into the night, over a dinner of canned green beans, deer hash and reconstituted fruit punch. Melissa cries over the gift of peanut butter, and offers up a bag of raw popcorn and some emergency candles in exchange.
00oo00
Grissom and Sara stay one day longer; they need to get back for the goats. Melissa gives them a map of the area. There is a Wal-Mart close by, she tells them, and if they'd like to plan a trip in the spring, she'll siphon gas from one of the dead jeeps in the parking lot.
All the conversation leaves Sara a little dizzy, and she's privately glad to get going back along the route to home. Once they're out of sight of Melissa and Will, Grissom grabs her and kisses her, deep and hard.
Like her, he's begun to appreciate the quiet.
00oo00
Sara is hungry for pancakes. Grissom makes them from one of the boxes of mix, slathering goat butter and grape jelly on them. The fact that it's three in the morning is a little weird, but he's glad to watch her wolf them down, moaning with happiness.
Grissom can feel the sweet roundness curving above Sara's hips now, and rests a hand on it when they sleep.
00oo00
The nightmare steals over him---Sara bleeding, Sara in labor, screaming that she doesn't want the baby, that it has H5N1 and will kill them both. He runs after her, aware that he's stepping in blood, and suddenly the ghosts of his shift are there, blocking his way to Sara: Hodges, Warrick, Ecklie, Mandy, Wendy . . . all of them pale and accusing, yelling at him, while through the fog he sees Sara stumble and fall, crying out . . . .
Grissom wakes up with a yell, pressing a hand to his mouth. Next to him under the blankets, Sara stirs, and burrows into him.
She is warm and doesn't even wake up. Grissom lies awake for the rest of the night.
00oo00
Bruno has a girlfriend.
The short little dog won't come into the yard at first, but Sara sets a dish of kibble out, and gradually wins her trust. She's a fluffy thing; a poodle with no grooming but bright eyes and the marks of a collar. They decide to call her Sadie.
00oo00
Late April now, and the smell of spring is in the air. They've gone to see Melissa twice, taking more rice and some newly made cheese. Melissa hopes to find a goose nest and nab some eggs to raise. Will doesn't talk much, but plays with Bruno and Sadie endlessly during the visits.
Melissa has books, and they swap freely—Survival guides, a big collection of spy and mystery novels. They plan the store visit for next week, and the four of them make out a master list.
00oo00
The store is damaged; the door was open, and clearly wildlife has visited. The floors are strewn with mud and leaf litter. Nonetheless, there's still plenty to be had, since the falling prices have hit free. Will runs up and down the aisles, overwhelmed until his mother calls him back.
Sara moves to the infant department and begins to load up. She feels a sense of satisfaction in picking things that are warm and sturdy. Grissom joins her, and motions with his chin to the assorted furniture. Only two items are taken—a high chair and a baby backpack.
Canned goods, dry goods, more stockpiles of rice, beans and pasta. Melissa wipes away her tears and smiles. She helps Grissom break into the Sporting Goods case and they pull out all the ammo, dividing it up. She motions to the hunting bows, and Grissom thoughtfully takes one, along with a few cases of arrows when Melissa tells him she'll teach him how to hunt with one.
The pharmacy is the last stop. Grissom looks at the pain medications and then at Sara. She shakes her head.
00oo00
Spring. Beautiful wonderful spring. Kneeling in the dirt, Sara could practically kiss the ground as she tenderly plants the seeds she has hoarded through the winter. She's had time to practically memorize the Farmer's Almanac, and now it's the season.
00oo00
Bucky and Regina have been going at it every moment, lately. Sara is amused at how Grissom seems to take his cue from the hot goat on goat action and finds reasons to crowd up behind her in the kitchen.
It's odd, because now that she's rounder—downright chubby in front if she's honest—she also feels . . . sexier. The Book says that's normal.
The book says nothing about how good doggy style feels on a picnic blanket in the warm sunshine down by the lake, and afterwards Sara thinks she definitely should add a footnote about it.
00oo00
Will comes to visit. Not her and Grissom, but the dogs, both of whom slobber over him lovingly. He meets the goats, who are very interested in his smells, and helps Sara with the laundry. He tells her his mother is starting a garden too, and has some rosemary and mint to share.
Sara cuts his hair for him, and feeds him lunch. He helps Grissom trim the goat's hooves and muck out the stalls. When he leaves, both of them invite him to come again.
Sadie goes with him. And it's good.
00oo00
June now, and Grissom is loving the weather. He has cleared an area away from the cabin and is building a bee box in his spare time. Twice now he's visited the hive, checking on it.
He worries about Sara. That will never change, but now it's focused on the baby, and Grissom is still torn between delight and fear; it's hard with no authority to guide them, just The Book. He's read the parts for expectant fathers so often he can close his eyes and see the pages in his mind.
Sara doesn't know it, but he's carved a heart with their initials into the old tree down by the gate of the road. It's a little bit of permanence; a mark that they exist, he supposes. When the baby comes, he will add more initials there too.
00oo00
When the first little shoots of lettuce come up, Sara cries.
Later that night, she feels the baby kick, and brings Grissom's hand to the spot. Grissom wipes his cheek against hers.
00oo00
Melissa and Sara send Grissom and Will out while they can. Melissa has brought jars and seals and wax, along with a bushel of crabapples and some young watermelons and onions. Sara has carrots and little cucumbers, beets and zucchini.
The menfolk can take a hint.
Grissom takes Will fishing. The boy gravely listens to how it's done, and follows Grissom's lead.
They catch five fish—three trout and two perch. Grissom shows Will how to clean them, and tells him he can have the extra fishing pole if he wants. Will nods and smiles. He tells Grissom thanks; he wants to start bringing in his share of food.
Grissom nods, but the mingled sense of melancholy and pride turn within him as the next morning, he watches the boy and his mother leave, their backpacks loaded with jars.
00oo00
Sara is studying food preservation as if she is earning a degree in it. Pickling, salting, curing, smoking. Grissom is astonished and a little frightened at her accomplishments as the pantry fills up. He accuses her of channeling her nesting syndrome into food for the winter.
Sara shrugs.
She knows he's probably right, but there's more to it. The sense of urgency is real, and doing something about it feels good. Every jar in the pantry is one more twinge of satisfaction, and all the little things are precious now. Salt, pepper, chocolate. The very fact that life is finite is in her bones.
00oo00
In the hot nights of August, they go out to the lake and lie in the grass, looking up at the stars. She's heavy and round now; the baby kicks a lot, and Grissom talks to it almost as much as he does to her.
00oo00
Regina has twins, both of them girls. Grissom notes that the delivery is fairly easy and that gives him some sense of hope. Both he and Sara will give one twin and Fred to Melissa and Will once the kid's weaned.
Sara is cranky. She has taken to wearing one of Grissom's oldest flannel shirts. Her bras don't fit anymore—not that Grissom is complaining. Her back aches and Grissom has to tie her bootlaces for her.
Grissom loves the sight of her, rounded and slow. It sharpens every protective instinct he has, and gives him patience. He brushes her hair and makes sure she eats. He hopes he's ready.
00oo00
He's not ready.
00oo00
Sara walks around the cabin again, focusing on counting, Bruno tagging along with this weird game. They've circled the place three times now, and when she reaches the porch, she announces that her pains are about twenty minutes apart. She's got lots of time, so they ought to get to the laundry while the sun is shining.
Grissom stares at her.
They hang the laundry. Sara promises to go to bed once she's done the breakfast dishes. Grissom wonders if one of the signs of labor is insanity.
00oo00
It doesn't start hurting until about ten o'clock that night.
Grissom has debated all day whether to bring Melissa or not, but now it's too late. Sweating, Sara tells him to get a knife ready, along with some alcohol. He nods; he's got all that and a rubber band for the umbilical cord, and a lot of receiving blankets.
He rubs her stomach. Sara looks up at him, breathing hard, and tells Grissom this is the last time she lets him in her Christmas stocking.
00oo00
Bald, red and annoyed, Baby Grissom finally makes a debut at ten the next morning. Grissom carefully wipes the baby down, clearing away the vernix and checking the eyes and nose.
Sara props herself up shakily on her elbows, demanding to see, so tired but relaxing a bit now. Her butt makes the plastic tarp crackle a bit, and she feels sticky and gross, but that's fixable.
Grissom brings the baby over, and before passing the bundle to Sara, kisses the little forehead.
00oo00
Grissom writes the name out, trying to keep his hand steady, but it's hard, and he's smiling so much his face hurts. Honey Vegas Grissom. He adds the date, and stares at the journal, then looks over. Sara is sleeping, finally. The baby is in a heavy desk drawer lined with blankets, resting on his side of the bed, the drawer surrounded by more blankets.
There's still a lot to clean up, and the chores to do, but he moves through them with a lightness that permeates his entire body. Grissom has never felt this way before, and he pauses in the middle of the yard, aware that he's crying.
00oo00
Sara has shared a love this fierce with one other person on the planet, and now they're both with her under the same roof.
00oo00
Life is different. This autumn is different. The days revolve around the sun and Honey, in that order. Handwashing returns. Playtimes on the big bed. Grissom walks the floor with Honey on his shoulder. Sara nurses her daughter in the recliner.
00oo00
The leaves turn and fall. Melissa trades two geese and a bag of birdseed for the goats and whoops her congratulations. Will shyly looks at the baby.
Sara goes about her day, smiling a little more. She carries Honey in a sling, and they cook together. Grissom takes the baby when Sara naps.
00oo00
Grissom is chopping wood; the weather is still warm, but he's had to clear a few trees along the yard, and extra wood is never a bad thing. He pauses, and that's when he hears the footsteps.
They're coming up the road, slow but getting louder. Grissom looks to the cabin, wondering if he can get his shotgun in time. Into sight comes a stranger.
The man is short, bundled in a down jacket. He has a shotgun across his back, and a walking staff in hand. As he gets closer, Grissom grips his ax, willing Sara to stay inside.
The stranger stops, and looks at Grissom. It's a long pause, and Grissom studies the man. Thick salt and pepper beard, shaggy hair, high forehead, and those eyes. Familiar eyes.
Hey Grissom, says Jim Brass.