Holly Fever (Mondamin Court #1)

Epilogue

"Can we stop at the gas station and get a snack?" Ryan asked as they headed out the driveway. He and his sister Maggie were sitting in the back of the Range Rover.

"No," his father said.

"It's not that far to Aunt Esther's," his mother said.

"It's way out in the ruins," Maggie protested.

That was an exaggeration, but if it helped Ryan's case, he was willing to let it slide. Drake neighborhood was indeed in the ruins of Old Des Moines, but it wouldn't take ten, fifteen minutes tops, especially since they'd started clearing and repairing many of the roads out that way last year. Still, the gas station was the last chance Ryan would have to get a moon pie or a soda. For the rest of the weekend, he'd be stuck with farm food, goat meat, and coarse breads. Why would anyone want to live that way?

"I never understood why she wants to live way out there," his dad said as they drove.

"It's where we grew up," his mom answered.

"And they have goats and chickens and everything," Maggie said from her seat next to him. "I understand. I would love to live out there."

Ryan snorted. She would too. Not Ryan, though—he liked having electricity. He loved his computer, built from repurposed parts somewhere in Alabama. He preferred the light bread that came from the Iowa River Bread Company over the thick, crusty home-baked loaves. He was a man of civilization.

He looked out the window as they drove. He watched the ruins of Drake University go by and tried to imagine the world of thirty-some years ago, before he was born, before the fever. Back when Des Moines was home to several hundred thousand people. It was hard to imagine. New Des Moines had just over forty thousand, and that seemed big to Ryan. Five hundred thousand . . . how had they all fit?

"It was the house that we all grew up in," Mom was saying. "Me, Esther, Misshasha. We loved it. When Grandma Zoey passed, I can see why Esther wanted it."

"And there's Grandpa Darren's house," Maggie pointed as they drove down a block.

"Yup," Mom said.

"You only know 'cause they told you," Ryan challenged. "You never met him."

"You didn't either," she shot back.

"That was long before either of you," their father said. "Heck, that was before my time. I was in Colorado during the fever. I was orphaned, but my uncle took me in. Then we got displaced by the new order . . ." He trailed off. Like many of the adults, he wouldn't talk much about the old days, and when he started to, he shut up quickly and changed the subject.

Ryan knew bits and pieces of it anyway. Dad's family had been old-order Mormons and they had been driven out of their homes by new upstarts, the New Reformed Church of the Mormon. Ryan knew a few Mormons, and they didn't seem so different. It was a little weird; his friend Jacob had three mothers at home. But other than that, they were normal folk. Sure, during the chaos after the fever there had been violence and bloodshed, but that was years ago. Now they lived like normal people, were part of society and everything.

They pulled into the driveway, and Maggie scrambled to climb out and rush to the house. Their mom was almost as quick, eager to see her sister again. Ryan held back. There was something else that was bothering him.

He remembered Grandma Zoey. He'd loved her. She was so warm, so friendly. She'd been a woman with a heavy face, a deep voice, and sometimes, whiskers. That wasn't that odd in old women, but he'd learned recently there was more to it in her case. She hadn't been his Grandma after all. Well, no one's family from those times were real families. His real, biological grandparents had lived down the street from Grandma Zoey. They'd visited that house once or twice, said a prayer to the grandparents who gave the two of them their names, Ryan and Maggie Hillcrest. Next spring, their mom would have another baby, and if it was a boy, it would be Ethan, named after the brother she lost. Then, their dad joked, it was his turn. There would be Elizabeth, Jeremy, Harold, Susan for his lost family. Their mom just rolled her eyes and said she wasn't sure how many babies she was up for.