Sanctuary

[Jensen James]

Continued from Saving Cayli

Despite the cabin crowded with people and tension, Jensen found they’d journeyed several hundred miles the next time he opened his eyes. He was squished against Jay’s mom and the door, her head lobbled on his shoulder. Somehow, he managed to shift her to Cayli on the other side, tap Jay on the shoulder, and offer to drive. He expected that Jay would need a few rounds of insisting, but surprisingly, the soldier pulled over right then and there and they traded places. A glance in the rearview mirror a few minutes later showed Jay passed out in the exact same position Jensen once occupied. Even his mom was back to resting on her son’s shoulder. Jensen smiled to himself and manned the helm the remaining 175 miles to Dallas.

It was a little after sunrise when he happily pulled into a road-side donut shop for breakfast and coffee. The others stretched and disappeared inside for breaks and refreshing. Jensen sent Jessika a message that they would be there within a half-hour. A massive southern-style breakfast awaited their arrival, and Jensen opted to only eat two donuts and save room because the egg casserole, candied bacon, and Belgium Waffles were going to be worth the sacrifice. It may even put a smile on Jay’s face.

The interstate around Dallas put something of a somber mood on Jensen despite his earlier excitement. He gripped the steering wheel like it was the only thing keeping him in the car, but for every flutter of nerves another fluttered his heart. He was home. The flatness of the horizon was familiar, the glow of a low-hanging sun was warming, and the peaks of urban architecture alongside the highways looked the same. The glowing signs of fast-food restaurants were never so comforting as they were then.

Finally, the signs for Preston Hollow began to show. The off-ramp that he chose delved into a neighborhood distinctly cleaner than those previously passed. Old trees stood high casting coveted-shade on sharply manicured lawns. The majority that they passed were currently being frosted with a spray of landscaping sprinklers. Curbs and flower-beds were tended by tanned workers wearing uniforms designating them as belonging somewhere that many would likely take a second glance otherwise. No school buses parked on the corners, here, children were navigated to school by drivers, nannies, or stay-at-home moms: if they went at all. Home-schooling with private tutors was popular these days.

Amid everything, it was the homes, so stately and flawless, that immediately drew the eye. Some may call them mansions, but Jensen wasn’t particularly fond of the word. It was simply home. A beautiful monument that filled a man with pride. It should, anyway, except that he abandoned his completely years ago to slink off in shame.

It was for the people in the car that he returned, he told himself as the vehicle entered a circular drive before the home that was his and Jessika’s. His eyes were drawn to the windows of his childrens’ bedrooms, the cobblestone driveway where he bounced basketballs with them, the wooden rockers that he sometimes drank tea in the evenings and watched the sunset. With a deep breath, he exited, but before he could even round climb a single step, the massive double-story door swung on easy hinges, and the most beautiful woman in the world emerged.

Jessika Thrice, Governor of Texas, Jensen’s high-school sweetheart and the mother of his children, was a ray of sunshine in an apocalyptic world. With bright blonde hair teased high and bouncing wide curls on red-dressed shoulders, her bright lips parted and welcomes and love poured out. A southern hostess to her dying day, she would mother her guests as though they were her own spoiled children. Jensen stood back and let her dote upon the others, but it was the door that he watched in case two small faces appeared.