Read Online Mad World (Book 2): Sanctuary by Samaire Provost - Free Book Online Page A

as DeAndre, Jake and Stanley stayed to talk to Tom.
    Caitlyn spread her arms wide as if to embrace the whole scene. “Oh, I’d love to paint this picture,” she said. Caitlyn had recently taken up oil painting and had quite a natural talent for capturing the feel of a landscape.
    “You should,” I said, smiling at her.
    I glanced toward the children again. Risa had turned 13 the month before and was already beginning to blossom. She was getting quite tall and was in the stage of growth where she was all legs. Looking back at her perched atop the paddock fence, her long hair blowing in the breeze, my heart constricted. She wa s growing up so fast. I thought of her as an adult most of the time. Luke was sitting next to her. He turned to her to ask a question and as he sat there in his T-shirt and jeans I realized he was also growing up very fast. It seemed like yesterday that he’d been a baby, then a toddler running about in diapers. I sighed.
    “They grow up so fast,” said Julie, reading my mind.
    I glanced at her and smiled. “Yes, they do.” I sighed, looking back once more at Risa and Luke. “Sometimes I wish I could just freeze time and keep them the way they are.”
    Caitlyn gave me a little hug. “Come on, Alyssa, let’s get some lemonade,” she said. We walked arm-in-arm to the farmhouse, Julie leading the way. Off on my left, out of the corner of my eye, I saw Stanley walk away from the group of men, and take his cell phone out. Hmmm, I thought. Must be making a call to touch bases with his son again. Something bothered me about Stanley. I saw Jacob watching him as well. Jake did not look happy as Stanley dialed and put the small phone to his ear, then disappeared around some stacked bales of hay. Shrugging, I turned back to walk into the farmhouse with Caitlyn.
    Inside, I just could stop looking around. It was like being transported back thirty years. From the blue-and-white calico curtains over the kitchen sink, to the old-fashioned furniture in the adjoining sitting room, it was as if we’d entered what could only be described as vintage America. It as if the zombie plague hadn’t touched this place.
    Julie immediately went to the sink and picked up a bowl of lemons that had been draining there. “It will take me just a few minutes to whip up a pitcher of lemonade,” she said. “Make yourselves at home.” Caitlyn and I wandered into the sitting room and began looking at all the photos they had on the walls.
    Most of the photos were of a young man, about 20, clean-cut and smiling. One picture showed him on a tractor with Tom, another showed him sitting on some bales of hay, with Timsin the dog on his lap, licking his face. Yet another showed all three of them in what was obviously a formal family portrait.
    “Who is this young man in these pictures, Julie?” I asked.
    There was no answer. I walked back into the kitchen where Julie was cutting lemons and squeezing the juice through a strainer into another bowl.
    “Julie?” I asked.
    She glanced up at me, smiling, and I saw there were tears in her eyes.
    “Hey, are you okay?” I asked, coming up to her and putting my hand on her shoulder.
    “Oh, I’m fine,” she replied, stopping to blow her nose. “I’m sorry. That’s Ethan, our son. He’s…” she stopped and new tears ran down her face.
    “Oh, hey. I’m sorry to have asked.” I said, putting my arm around her. Caitlyn then came into the room behind me. She didn’t say anything, just patted Julie’s arm. Julie looked up at us and smiled.
    “I’m okay. It’s just that Ethan’s over in Afghanistan. He’s in the Marines. When the plague broke out, he wanted to get as far away from it as he could, so he signed up. But now he’s also away from us . Since he’s been over there, we hardly hear from him, and when we do, he’s like a different person. The military has changed him. He’s not our little boy anymore. And I worry every day that he might be killed. My nightmare is