The Decision

She paused and took a deep breath, suppressing the tears that were trying to well up. After she wiped the sweat from her brow, she grabbed the shovel and continued to fill in the grave. Her mind was struggling with the decision that was in front of her, return to the life she thought she had left far behind or head off in a different direction. The years of counseling kept urging her to take the different path, but the pain and anger was screaming to return to that life. Whatever she decided, it had to take her away from here.

The grave was filled and the cross planted firmly, she headed to the cabin to finish packing her gear. They had fought over purchasing this cabin, but he had wanted it so much that she eventually gave in. The cabin was a great refuge after the big war started. Far enough away from the big cities to be safe from the fallout, close enough to get there in a hurry when they needed to. The memories rushed in as she looked at the mementos; the mount of her daughters first buck, her husbands black bear rug, the broken oar from the white water kayaking that nearly killed her. Life had been good here until the marauders had set up camp on the other side of the mountain. After that, they had lived in stealth mode. She needed to occupy her mind with something else.

She turned her attention to the gear. Most of her gear would stay the same, regardless of the choice she made, but which rifle she took was dependent on her direction. The gear was checked for the fourth or fifth time, more to occupy her time and mind than out of any concern that she had forgotten anything. Her mind turned back to finding them on the ridge, and the rage began to rise again. She grabbed the bottle of whiskey and poured herself a drink. Perhaps a nights sleep will help her make the choice. She downed the rest of the glass of whiskey and settled in for the night.

Her dreams were filled with snippets of the past few weeks. The days of worry as her husband and daughter were late in returning from their scouting and hunting trip. Making the decision to go out and try to find them. Finding their empty camp site. The questions that filled her mind when their trail turned towards the marauders encampment. The horror when she came upon their bodies. She had carried her daughter back first, then returned for her husband. It took nearly twice as long to get him back, weighing 50 pounds more than her. It had taken her three days to find them, and a week and a half to get their bodies back to the cabin.

As the rising sun woke her, she realized that the anger had won out. She made a simple breakfast then washed and dried the dishes and put them away. She headed towards the grave to say her goodbyes. Standing there staring at the cross, tears welling and heart pounding, she took the heart shaped locket from her neck and opened it. She gazed at the smiling faces of her husband and daughter inside, longing for the days when those smiles were abundant. The locket was hung with tenderness on the cross of their graves. She wiped the tears from her face and returned to the cabin. The cabin needed closed since she didn’t know how long she would be gone, or if she would even return. She made the last minute adjustments to her pack and took one last look around. Then she grabbed her gear and her sniper rifle and headed in the direction of the marauders camp.