The Door

By Ruth Godwin

With the world around her going up in smoke – literally – a young mother flees to her family’s secluded cabin with her twin preschool sons. Is there any way they can survive the aftermath of global nuclear war?

Kate Dillon struggles to make her way in post-nuclear holocaust America. Her world is in ruins, her family has been devastated, but she has no choice except to carry on.

For as long as she can remember, Kate has dreamt of another world - one of horses and castles, swords and spells. She is twin to a queen in that world, the Lady Kathryn. Kathryn rules the land of Abronah with her husband, Aidan, but she is dreadfully ill. Soon she will be gone, and Abronah will be devastated by her loss. She is more than just their queen, she is their talisman, and has for years kept at bay the evil forces of her world. Once she dies, there will be no defense.

Kathryn's people realize that Kate exists, albeit in a different world, and that she - like their lost queen - can offer protection to the land and people. Aidan himself comes to Kate in a vision, begging for her assistance. They are under siege from a neighboring country. The ruler of that country, Lord Nox, is a monster, determined to seize power and rule Abronah with an iron fist. Kate agrees to help Aidan and his people, and she accompanies him into his world. Can she help Aidan's people free themselves from the terrible evil that has befallen them?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ruth Godwin
• Release date: May 21, 2011
• ISBN: 9781465824851

Ruth Godwin

I have always enjoyed anything adventurous, and have worked in fields that tend to give me a rush. I've been employed as a firefighter, a correctional officer, a police officer, and a park ranger. My most recent job has been - get this - as a church secretary. Honestly, that was the biggest adventure of all. I have been writing since 4th grade, when I won a short story contest and had the honor of meeting Mercer Meyer. I have always written for myself, until my sister questioned why I didn't try to get published. After that I started letting other folks read my stuff, and I've since acquired a pretty large fan base at my church. I am married and we have a beautiful daughter. I enjoy shooting, anything to do with horses (including cleaning stalls, if you can believe that), hiking, and hanging out with good friends.

Book preview

The Door

by

Ruth E. Godwin

Published by Ruth Godwin at Smashwords

Copyright 2007 Ruth Godwin

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Chapter 1

The twins were both sick; William looked like he might be dying. Kyle was little better, and Kate feared for both her preschoolers. Grief-stricken, trying to fight off panic, she moved to the door of the cabin, opening it and listening to the night sounds. She had hoped to hear Scott's truck climbing up the rough trail that led to their tiny vacation home. She strained her ears for a long moment, but only the typical forest sounds greeted her.

The world beyond these mountains was by now on fire, locked in a combat that would forever change the face of the planet. That may, in fact, eradicate mankind, leaving Earth to be ruled by whatever creatures possessed the fortitude to survive nuclear holocaust.

Kate had already been on the road to the cabin when news came that the bombs were falling. The missile defense system would stop many of the enemy's weapons, but the experts on Fox News had been saying that the system would be inadequate to stop them all. If China launched a full attack, some of the missiles would strike United States soil. There could be no total defense...and tensions between the two nations were running very high.

She and Scott had decided to take an extended vacation at the family's secluded cabin deep in the Montana wilderness. They spent two weeks every summer at the cabin, which was in the heart of the Beaverhead-Deer Lodge National Forest.

Scott's grandfather had built the place some five decades before. The road was little more than a horse trail, but it could manage the Land Rover and Scott's pickup well enough. If the world beyond the mountains had not been destroying itself, she risked a huge fine from the Forest Service for driving on the trail.

Oh, where was Scott? She had called him from the car and he said that he would meet them at the cabin. He had gone into Billings to pick up Kate's mother, but they should have been here by now.

She heard one of the boys crying from the small bedroom and stepped back through the door, locking it securely behind her. Inside the cabin were crates and crates of supplies - weapons and food, for the most part. Cached in various locations around the sixty-acre property were other supplies and equipment - gold, liquor, military field rations, weapons and ammunition, camping supplies, and extra clothes for all four of them and for Kate's mother.

They had ten caches hidden on the property, each with enough supplies to last them for a year. Scott, who operated a successful real estate business in Boise, had been stocking supplies at the cabin for several years now, ever since tensions between the United States and China began to rise.

Kyle cried out in the bedroom and she walked in, panic nipping at her heart. He was asleep, though it was not a peaceful rest. He was tossing fitfully. As she turned her eyes on William, Kyle called his brother's name. Billy!

Her eyes fell on Will, who was as still as stone, and her heart skidded to an uneasy stop in her chest. She stared at him for a long moment, but knew she would not see his chest rising and falling under the blanket. Her youngest son was dead. She felt tears sting her eyes at that thought and found that she could not draw a breath. She moved over to Kyle's bed and sank down next to him on shaky legs.

He awoke and looked up at her. Billy? he asked.

She did not want to admit the truth, not to herself and certainly not to Will's twin brother. She brushed his black hair away from his face and battled against panic when a chunk of it came out in her hand. His blue eyes were calm and showed no fear, and she struggled to contain her own grief and terror. Fighting back her tears, she whispered gently, He's sleeping, hon. Shh.

Kyle shook his head, his own voice hushed and tender as he said to his mother, Billy's with the angels, Mommy.

She lay down next to the boy and pulled him into an embrace. No, honey, he's asleep. Everything's going to be all right.

God sent an angel to get him, Kyle insisted. I saw him. He'll send one for me too.

She pulled him tighter as tears stole her voice. Kyle returned the fierce embrace, his small arms grasping her neck. It's all right, Mommy, he whispered. Billy's with Jesus. He's waitin' for me. I'm not scared. I think - I think Daddy's there too.

She nodded against the top of his head - it was all she could do, for she still could not speak. Kyle fell to silence, but she could hear his breathing in the otherwise quiet room. It shortly became deep and regular and she realized he had fallen asleep. Good. He needed his rest if he was to get past whatever had taken his brother.

She lay there with Kyle for hours, not wanting to disturb him by getting up. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that she did not want to move for fear that he would slip away while she was gone.

Some part of her believed that by staying with him she could protect him from whatever was waiting for him, for she knew his words were true. This was no hallucination brought on by whatever was making him ill. God had sent an angel for Will, and another one would be coming for Kyle. She refused to simply give him up without some sort of fight. God had already taken one of her boys - why did He have to have them both?

At some point in the deepest, darkest part of the night, Kate drifted off and fell immediately into dreams. She found herself standing in the doorway, looking into the bedroom in which she slept with her surviving son. The flames from the living room fireplace cast a dim, dancing light into the room, but otherwise it was dark.

On the second bed lay Will, still and silent...dead and gone. She sensed another presence in the room and looked around, expecting to see Scott. Finally he had arrived. She felt a moment's relief that faded quickly when she could not locate him in the shadow-choked room. He was not there after all. With a sad certainty, she realized that she would not see him again.

In spite of that, there was peace in the room that almost felt like a physical presence. Her earlier grief faded abruptly, releasing its chokehold on her heart.

Looking down on the bed on which she rested with Kyle, she saw him stir. She herself remained still, oblivious to his movements. Kyle lifted his head and looked for a moment into the empty air next to the bed. He nodded, then looked down at his mother again and with a wise smile, pulled her into a tighter embrace.

Standing there, watching the scene play out in front of her, Kate felt her son's arms tighten on her neck. She reached up to stroke his wrist, but the sleeping Kate did not move. Still, she could feel his arm resting across her jaw and she caressed it tenderly. Kyle whispered into her throat, My angel's here, Mommy.

Her breath left her in a rush and she tried to speak, tried to deny his words to her. No sound came forth. On her throat, she could feel Kyle's breath and her eyes flooded. He smiled gently and said, I've got to go, but I'll watch over you. I love you.

With those words he placed a gentle kiss on her cheek and laid his head back down on the bed, leaving his arm resting over her shoulder. She continued to stand in the doorway, watching, unable to move, unable to speak.

A ghost image of her eldest son stood, barely upsetting the blankets when it did and leaving the physical form of Kyle lying on the bed with his mother. His chest had stopped rising and falling now and she tried to step forward, to tell him to stop, to stay...to not leave her all alone.

The ghost Kyle climbed from the bed and now she saw that the empty air to which he had nodded no longer appeared empty. She could not clearly see anything - or anyone - of substance, but it seemed as if a shadow stood next to the bed. A shadow, and yet more than that; more like a blur, really, or heat waves coming up from a stretch of desert highway. All she knew was that something was definitely there. She sensed no animosity from whatever it was and that feeling of peace once again fell over her.

Kyle reached up and clasped hands with the shadow, still with that wise, gentle smile adorning his beautiful five-year-old face. He walked toward her, holding hands with the shadow, and the dark room faded further into blackness.

As Kyle and the shadow reached her, walked through her without missing a step, she tried unsuccessfully to fight her way out of sleep. The room faded into pitch blackness and she found it impossible to claw her way up from her slumber. She slept on, helpless while God's angel took her last surviving son from her. For a time, she knew no more.

* * *

Kate awoke to a darkness that made her think it was still many hours before dawn. Kyle was gone, his little body cold and still. For long, painful hours she sat sobbing on the floor between her sons' beds, unable to emerge from her grief. Her family was dead. All of them, she knew, for she realized that if Scott was coming, he would have been here by now.

It occurred to her that she had been sitting here a long time - long enough to see the dawn, at any rate. Curious, she checked her watch; the digital readout was as dark as the sky outside. She sensed, however, that it was daytime, perhaps as late as noon.

How long will this go on? she wondered. How much debris must be in the atmosphere to keep the sun from shining its light upon the earth? After a grief-filled moment, she determined that it was no matter to her. With her sons and husband dead, she had nothing left to live for.

The fire in the living room had gone out; the tiny cabin was getting cold and she felt a shiver course through her. She made no move to relight the fire, however. Let hypothermia overcome her; she was probably dying anyway of whatever had taken Kyle and William. Better to die of hypothermia than the sickness that had so quickly eaten away at her sons.

She sat for a long time, waiting for the end. Before God decided to take her, however, she heard Scott's voice in her mind. Survive, Kate. You're needed.

She sighed heavily, wiping away her tears. Needed by who? she asked the empty room. You've all left me.

You know who, Scott answered. Survive for our child, the one that is growing within you as you sit waiting to die.

This answer frightened her now, probably more than anything else could. She had already watched two of her children die today. She did not want to risk the emotional torment of having another child who may be taken by this cruel new world in which she lived.

You don't have a choice, babe. He's coming, whether you like it or not.

She rubbed her hand over her belly, realizing that this conversation she was having with her dead husband probably meant she was slightly crazy. But she knew something else, as well - she was indeed pregnant, if only by a few days. Will God take this child from me too, Scott? she asked aloud. Will I be left alone again?

There was no answer to these questions and she finally stood and moved into the living room to relight the fire. Through the windows she could see a heavy snow falling from the dark gray - almost black - sky. Winter had set in, though it was only early September. Nuclear winter, she imagined, and wondered how long it would last. Months? Years? Years, she decided, probably many years.

She pulled on her coat and moved to the door, intending to dig graves for her boys. She hesitated a moment, then stepped back inside the cabin and retrieved a holstered pistol from a gym bag on the couch. She removed a belt as well and put the handgun on her right hip.

Stored somewhere inside the cabin was a low-slung tactical holster for the .45 caliber weapon, but she wanted to complete the grim task of laying her sons to rest before she went to the trouble of finding it. She was certain that whatever had killed them - some kind of radiation sickness, she assumed - would eventually get to her as well.

She wanted the boys buried before she was too weak to manage it. There would be no one left to bury her when her time finally came, but she refused to leave her sons to rot or allow scavengers to take them.

She moved back to the door, pulling it open and stepping into the chilly morning air.

* * *

Chapter 2

Kate pulled the Land Rover off the two lane highway and drove down a narrow, tree-choked forest road. She carefully pulled the machine off the lane, driving deep enough into the trees for her to be out of sight if any other vehicles happened to pass. She had left the cabin almost an hour before, heading to the nearest town with the intention of trying to locate other survivors.

The sky had been steadily brightening for the past week, though the air still held the perpetual gloom of late twilight and it had not stopped snowing since the day the bombs fell. The roads had been a mess coming down, but between the new tires on the Rover and the snow-removal blade Scott had installed in preparation for their move to the cabin, she managed to make it down the mountain.

For the last two weeks, she had been trying to connect with someone - anyone - on the shortwave radio. She got nothing but static and could get nothing on the satellite radio Scott had installed in the Rover. Kate did not expect to find survivors in any of the three ranch homes clustered at the base of her mountain, but she had to try.

All the folks who lived in these parts owned livestock. A few miles back, right off the highway, she had seen several dead cows in a meadow. She had almost pulled over to investigate, but continued on when she heard Scott's voice in the back of her mind. Keep moving, babe. She had shuddered as she studied the meadow through the falling snow; something was obviously not right. She continued driving.

Now, parked in the trees, she turned off the Land Rover's motor and grabbed her rifle from the passenger's seat. Hanging in a sling holster at her left hip was a sawed-off shotgun, a full inch shorter than the law allowed. Her .45 was in its now-regular place on her right thigh. She had extra magazines for the rifle and pistol, as well as a pocketful of shells for the shotgun.

Kate pushed out a shaky breath, trying to get ready for the unknown situation into which she was about to throw herself. This small trio of houses was a good deal closer to Deer Lodge than was her cabin. She could be exposing herself to high levels of radiation just by being there. Still, she had to know if there were other survivors. She felt a desperate need to connect with another human being.

When she thought she was ready, she opened her door. Her rifle was equipped with a tactical sling and she let the weapon hang down at her side as she quietly eased shut the door to the Rover.

She looked down at her camouflaged pants and let a sad smile play across her mouth. If not for the war, she would have been at her home in Boise, fixing lunch for Kyle and Will. After they ate, the three of them would have spent part of the afternoon puttering around the family's garden, getting the last of the vegetables in before winter's snows hit.

Now she was preparing for a reconnaissance mission, ready to shoot anything that looked like a threat. She felt like Ramboette.

Shoving those thoughts aside, she entered the forest, moving at an easy but cautious walk. She was thankful for the wet snow at her feet; it was muffling the sound of her footsteps far better than she could have hoped. What matter that it was probably ripe with cancer causing radiation?

She reached the edge of a yard and from the shelter of the trees, studied the house in front of her and the barn beyond. There was a smaller outbuilding behind the barn; a storage shed or shop, she thought. Everything appeared to be quiet. There were no footprints visible in the snow around any of the buildings and no smoke came from the chimney on top of the house.

Kate stayed where she was for a moment, indecisive. She was concerned that if there was anyone alive inside the house, they would think her an enemy and kill her if she was to approach openly. On the other hand, if she attempted a stealthy approach and failed, she would definitely appear to be suspicious and they may try to harm her due to her dubious actions.

When the bombs fell, all the rules had changed. One did not simply walk up and knock on the door anymore, not if one wished to stay alive. She decided that a tactical approach would be less of a risk.

There were two windows on this side of the house, leading into the garage. Both were made of frosted glass, were set high in the wall and allowed her the most secure approach to the structure. Although her footprints would be evidence of her presence, there was no help for it.

Hefting her rifle, she dashed across the open yard, taking a position of concealment behind a large metal barrel that was obviously used for burning. She caught her breath, trying to still her racing heart, then moved over to the corner of the garage and peered around at the front of the structure. No footprints, no evidence of anyone coming or going recently. No tire tracks in the driveway, either.

She had a glimpse of a large picture window on the lower level, and smaller windows on the upper floor. The place had a basement as well, and from the slope of the ground at the rear of the residence, she suspected there was an entry to that level at the back.

Kate abandoned her position and moved toward the back of the building. Peeking around the corner, she studied the scene before her. Again, she saw no footprints. Twenty feet in front of her - at the edge of the back of the garage - was a ledge which dropped off about eight feet to a small patio at the back of the house. A glass door led into a well-furnished basement with pristine white carpeting. A spiral staircase led up from the patio to a balcony on the upper floor of the house. In the old world, this place would have cost a fortune, even in Powell County.

She dropped to the ground and belly crawled over to the ledge. Peeking over the precipice, she studied the portion of the basement she could see, which was fairly significant. There was no movement from within. She backed to the garage-side of the house again, then climbed to her feet and moved toward the front of the structure. She would make her entry at the front, through the door if it was unlocked, through a window if necessary.

Hugging the front wall of the house, she approached the front door. When she reached the picture window, she peeked through a small crack in the drapes that allowed her a view of the interior of the house. There was no movement and no evidence of occupation. She could hear nothing from within, either.

The few pieces of furniture she could see looked expensive, and again, she noted the white carpeting on the main floor. She thought it was an impractical color for southwestern Montana, especially on a ranch. She dropped to her stomach again, crawling under the level of the window to the front door.

Kate reached the railing of the covered porch and climbed over as quietly as she could, moving silently toward the front door. Staying to one side of the door, she pulled off her glove. She took a deep breath and reached forward to grasp the doorknob. Slowly, she turned it and found that it moved easily in her hand. She pushed the door open, but kept her position of cover and concealment.

The door creaked slightly on its hinges, but it opened wide and she caught a glimpse of a distant stairway leading up to the second level. An open doorway led into a sitting room with a widescreen television that was almost as big as her mattress at home. More white carpet, and an open door that apparently led to a large and well-equipped kitchen. The sitting room was empty and from her vantage point she could see two sleek black refrigerator doors in the kitchen. The cabinets and floors in the kitchen were the same lightly stained oak. Silence greeted her from within and she waited breathlessly for some type of reaction.

After a minute that seemed more like an hour, she decided she would enter. She prayed that she would not get herself killed. Part of her doubted that anyone was in the house, but she was trying to ignore those thoughts. The second she believed she was alone, some angry homeowner would be stepping out of a closet with a shotgun.

Entering the house quickly, she stepped through the empty sitting room and into the kitchen, trying to cover everywhere with her rifle. After a moment she decided that the thing would be a nuisance in searching the house, and she lowered it and drew her handgun instead.

The house was dark and the gloom outside did nothing to brighten it. She reached into a cargo pocket, withdrawing a small tactical flashlight. She would most likely need it at some point, as she knew the power had long since failed.

The kitchen was devoid of life and she riveted her attention on a doorway to her right. Beyond, choked in shadows, she could see a dining room equipped with a round table stained in a dark cherry color. Three places were set around the table, and it looked as if the residents had left in the middle of a meal. She had to look twice to assure herself that steam was not rising from the gravy bowl in the center of the table.

Kate approached the dining room, her weapon raised, her senses heightened. She stepped through the doorway, checking every corner of the room and wishing she had Scott here to help her.

Before the twins had entered their lives, when they still lived in Billings, they had spent many a weekend at a local paintball course. Their first date, in fact, was to a paintball war. At the end of her first battle, covered in a rainbow of hues, she had joked to him that he sure knew how to show a girl a good time. Now she was thankful for his obsession with the sport. Between that and the six years she had spent as a reserve deputy in Yellowstone County, she might have enough skills to keep her alive in this brave new world.

The dining room opened into a huge living room. Hugging one wall was a staircase leading to the upper floor. The room appeared to be empty, but there was a closet door just outside the dining room and another door that she thought must lead to the garage. There were also a dozen places in the room itself where someone could be hiding.

She spared a glance at the food on the table and was relieved to see that a coat of black mold had grown over whatever was in the gravy bowl. No one had been at this table for some time, she realized.

It also dawned on her that the house was cold. If someone was here, they would most likely have had a fire going. The lack of a fire indicated that she was alone. Still, one could not be too careful. She would complete her search of the house before she relaxed.

She pulled open the closet, sweeping the inside quickly and noting that it was devoid of life. Walking through the living room, she checked behind furniture as she moved toward the garage door. As she reached the garage, she noted another door in the wall that formed the bottom of the stairway. She had not been able to see it from her position in the dining room. She decided that it probably led downstairs and that she would check the upstairs prior to searching the basement.

She opened the garage door, but a quick scan revealed nothing except an old, well-maintained split window Corvette. These folks must have had money, she thought. I hope it helped them. She turned back to the living room, caught a glimpse of someone on the far side of the room, and was a blink away from shooting her own reflection when she realized she was looking into a beautifully beveled mirror.

She pushed out a relieved breath, glad now that Scott was not here to see that. His voice sounded in her mind however, as it did more and more often recently. I saw it anyway, you know. Perhaps she was going a bit crazy, but she figured she had a right to, considering that the leaders of the world - a handful of men and women - had killed over six billion people with the push of a couple of buttons. A little crazy was all right, she decided; she had not killed anyone...not yet, anyway.

The longer she was in this house, the more certain she became that no one else was here. Still, the mirror had spooked her and she did not want someone sneaking up behind her as she searched the upper floor. The knob on the basement door had a lock on it and she pushed it in, locking it securely and ensuring that she would not be disturbed during her search of the rest of the house. She spied a security chain at the top of the door and she slid that home as well.

Realizing that she had left the front door standing open, she retraced her steps through the dining room, kitchen, and sitting room. She pushed the door closed and locked it, then peeked into the living room from her position in the foyer. It remained empty, and she doubted anyone would be able to sneak up from the basement without making a good deal of noise.

She moved to the stairs. Pointing her weapon toward the top of the stairwell, Kate was relieved to note that the upper landing was enclosed on three sides. She could cover the top of the stairs and not have to worry about someone shooting her in the back as she ascended the stairway. Staying on the outside edges of the steps, where her weight was less likely to cause a stair to creak and give away her position, she climbed.

She moved as fast as she could while still trying to maintain silence. Complete silence was impossible, but the wind was blowing outside and she hoped that was enough to cover her footsteps.

She gained the top of the stairs and had to choose - right or left. There was a door to her left, and she realized that it would lead to some type of room - perhaps an apartment - over the garage. She would search that first, then complete her exploration of the rest of the upper level.

Kate turned the knob on the door and pushed it open. It opened into darkness and she switched on her flashlight.

The light was powerful and revealed a storage area above the garage. She saw boxes marked PICTURES, X-MAS, JOEY, and BOOKS. There were other boxes tucked farther into the shadows, but she could not read their labels. There were few places for anyone to hide, but she had to look. She walked quickly up the aisle that ran along the center of the room, sweeping her weapon back and forth. She found no one hiding in the room and turned back to finish searching the upper level.

A search of the upstairs rooms revealed no enemies, though she almost shot the mirror in the master bedroom. She also found a sauna attached to the master bath and she shook her head, again hoping the residents of this richly-appointed home had found safety.

In searching the basement, she found a large pantry, still stocked with quite a bit of canned food. She located a safe, securely locked and bolted to the floor. She had hoped to find some weapons, but there were none in evidence. She did, however, find an intricately carved box containing a dozen small gold coins and perhaps thirty nuggets of various sizes. She imagined there was probably more gold in the safe, and if she had time, she would attempt to locate tools with which to open it.

She pocketed the gold and packed a handful of backpacks with canned goods. She felt a moment's guilt at raiding this home that did not belong to her, but she did not believe the residents were still alive. The rules had changed. This food and the gold could help her stay alive. She refused to leave them to be found and taken by someone else.

In the basement, she also located a fully stocked bar. Scott had always said that if the world was to end, the only things that would be worth anything were gold and booze. She loaded every bottle she could find into another trio of backpacks.

She stacked the backpacks and boxes she had loaded next to the front door, located a box filled with a variety of batteries, and added that to the stack along with a