"There are a lot of kids out there too, Anna, kids who are alone and hurting. They need us. Trust me, my sweet, I do this for you."
"I do, Johnnie. You know that. I always have."
He nodded, gritting his teeth against a burning wave of pain that settled deep in his guts. "Good. We'll leave this week."
Anne turned her head and John tensed, expecting a bad reaction as her eyes landed on the gruesome scene outside. She shuddered and he opened his mouth to comfort her.
"I never did like that damned dog. It barked too much."
Anne went back to her knitting, leaving him with a shocked look on his lightly bearded face, and a smile in his heart. Even after all these years, she was still capable of surprising him, and he was happier than he could say, that they had survived the actual War together. There was no one he would rather be with.
2
A while later, John was still at the window, big ants (and their dinner) gone, the freezing rain returning for yet another round. His mind was still on his wife of 37 years, on the half-truths he had told her. He never lied, but often left things out…and this time it was something huge. He would tell her soon, though. She had a right to know that this next year together would probably be their last.
John sighed. He had to get her to some kind of safety, and he had to do it now, knew she would refuse to go if he told her why they were really leaving.
Movement in the dimness caught John's eye, mostly because they saw so little of it now, and he froze, watching a shadow limp across their driveway , keeping to the line of dying bushes around the edge of the long porch. They had seen a lot of radiation victims after the War, most in the early stages where travel was still possible, and he tensed, expecting one of the walking dead.
Tall and thin with dirty black curls under goggles, the young woman wore a long muddy coat that came to the tops of her black boots. Should he call to her? She looked healthy other than the slight limp - normal.
Before he could decide, she turned toward the window and saw him. Her eyes widened in fear, panicked feet slipping on muddy debris, and then she was gone, disappearing into the hazy darkness.
John started to go to the door anyway, and had to sit back down in the hard chair, grimacing at another sharp lance of burning pain. He rubbed his swollen stomach, wishing the pills would hurry. He needed a lab that still had power, so he could run some basic tests. It would be easier to plan his wife's future if he knew how long he had before the cancer ended his life.