Marked
Epilogue

There was a green field that stretched on for miles. Rachel stood on a hill, overlooking the entire thing and admired what their hands had created, together.

Field after field full of crops gleaming in the early morning sunlight. Corn and potatoes, grapes and apples. Dozens of rows of food to ensure that no one around them ever went hungry.

It was a thing of real beauty.

Peeling her eyes away from the scenery, she finished shoveling hay into two pails, gathered the buckets and made the trek down to the stables where Red and Cazador were eagerly anticipating her arrival.

Red gave a small whinny and bumped Rachel on the shoulder with her muzzle. She set down the pails and took a deep breath as the horses delved into their breakfast.

“I thought we’d agreed to let me take care of the horses.” Hector’s voice reached her from the entrance where he leaned against the wooden door in his trademark stance.

Rachel blew out a breath. “But I get bored of sitting at home all day.”

Hector disengaged himself from the door and came to stand in front of her. His brown eyes glittered with humor as one hand went down to her stomach and gently rubbed the round bulge protruding from her body.

“You have to be careful, hermosa. You know Red gets excited when she sees you and she could hurt the baby.”

“Red is a sweetheart, she would never.”

“You’re so stubborn.” He groaned. Rachel rested her forehead against his, his light stubble prickling at her face.

“Is it time already?” She asked.

“It’s time.” He replied.

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Going from the stable and out into the sunlight left her eyes struggling to adjust. Once they did, she could make out two vehicles approaching down the winding dirt road.

As they made their way to the picket-fenced entry to the Hernandez farm, Chucho, the golden retriever left his place by the porch and began to weave in and out between Rachel and Hector.

Going ahead of them, he took up a defensive stance, his lip curled back over a snarl at the strangers.

“Easy, Chucho.” Hector rubbed the dog’s head. Together, they waited for the procession of cars to arrive at a stop.

“Is this the Hernandez residence?” A man with a receding hairline and five-o-clock shadow asked.

“It is.”

“We have a delivery--”

“We know. Can you set it over here? We have the plot ready.”

Rachel pointed to the area surrounded by five oak trees. The space held a garden of flowers filled with red roses, pink petunias, yellow tulips, white daffodils. And now a hole in the ground rested among it all, six feet deep.

Out of one of the vehicles, the men pulled out a shiny, red casket and carried it over to the plot. Gently, and with the help of Hector, they eased the casket into the ground and then took off just as they’d come.

Rachel gathered some flowers from the garden as she waited for the others to arrive. Every time she’d bend down, the little human inside her body would protest with a kick to the ribs.

“Easy, little one.” Taking a needed break, she leaned against a tree while she observed Hector.

Next to the oak trees he scooped out the last handfuls of dirt to make space for a new sapling. Clapping his hands together to clear them, he looked up at her and smiled.

Words failed her every time she looked at him. Her heart clenched from how much she loved him.

She’d expected, that as the years went by, their love would become something different. Something comfortable, maybe only a ghost of what it once had been. Still beautiful of course, in its own way, but with the all consuming passion now gone, the butterflies no longer fluttering in her stomach—not that there was currently any room in her belly for butterflies now.

Yet her heart still soared every time she looked at him. Her face still pulled into a smile when she caught his brown eyes staring at her. And now, instead of butterflies, she could feel the fluttering of something else, something their love had created together.

“Fuck!” Someone yelled, slicing crudely into her moment. The sound of a motorcycle approaching drew her attention back onto the dirt road.

A man, trying to restrain a four-year-old boy as he attempted to stand on the bike. They came to a halt and the man deposited the child onto the ground.

“Come on, kid. I’ve told ya to hold still when we’re on the bike. You can’t stand when we’re moving.”

“That’s no fun.” The kid grumbled.

Rachel laughed just as Juan shook his head out of his helmet. “Am I late? Fuck, I’m late, aren’t I?”

“Juan, language.” Rachel said, shifting her eyes to look at his son, Manny. “And no, you’re early.”

“Really?”

“First time in your life.” Hector teased as he came to clap his brother on the back. “Manny, why don’t you go find Chucho and see if he wants to play?”

“Trying to get rid of me, Tio?” Manny grumbled as he turned a suspicious glare on his uncle. “Fine, I gots it. You have adult stuffs to talk ’bout.”

Manny took off with a peal of laughter, probably off to terrorize Chucho.

“That kid is exactly like you.” Rachel said.

“I know, I’m so proud.” Juan grinned then pointed at her pregnant belly. “Let’s hope that that one is nothing like you, St. Rachel. Kid’s gotta have a backbone to keep up with Manny.”

“Hey, if I do recall correctly, I was the one who saved your butt.”

“Details, details,” He said as he waived his hand in the air dismissively.

...............................................................................................

Once the others had arrived, they formed a circle around the casket. Her ragtag group of friends and family, all gathered for the ceremony.

Michael, his head bowed respectfully, hands clasped in front of him. Juan with his son perched on his shoulders. Debra and Charles, chattering to each other about something. Charles finally in decent clothing.

“I’m sorry your mom couldn’t make it.” Hector said beside her.

“It’s okay. She’s busy being the first lady to Copenhagen’s President. I’m sure she would’ve been here if she could.”

“Let’s get started then.” Hector said. He stepped toward the casket and looked at each of them. “Today marks five years since the end of the Mark. Five years since we began to rebuild this world from the ground up. Five years of being free.”

“We want today to be a celebration of life.” He added as Rachel came to stand beside him, weaving her arm through his. “Today is not a day to be sad. We’ve already grieved enough. Freedom wasn’t free but we’ve all paid our dues with our own suffering and now all that’s left is to be happy. Today is about remembering the ones who couldn’t be here and to be thankful that we all are.”

Rachel bent over with Hector’s help and tossed in Simone’s heart-shaped locket, the one she’d kept all these years.

“For Simone.” She whispered.

Next, Michael approached and let a rose drift into the open ground. Juan took the badge that had belonged to his father and laid it to rest. Finally, Hector deposited a blanket they’d found in the attic of the farm that had been woven by his mother followed by a collection of cards that had belonged to his brother, Jose.

Hector handed her a shovel and she placed the first mound of dirt over Jed’s casket. It was the last of the bodies they’d been able to recover after the war and even that had taken five years of getting past red tape.

Amidst the confusion and trying to establish a new government, the last thing people were concerned with was digging up a dead boy from the back of the White House.

They each took a turn, dropping a mound of dirt until the casket was completely buried. Rachel inspected it proudly, her hand going to her stomach.

It finally felt complete. Their garden of remembrance.

Beside Jed’s grave were four other crosses. The first belonged to Hector’s father and mother. There were no bodies below it but the mere act of having it there she knew, brought him peace. The same went for Simone’s and Jose’s marked graves. No bodies but looking at them ensured they’d never be forgotten.

And finally, the grave where Michael now set a red rose for his fallen comrade.

Yalina’s cross glimmered with a strip of sunlight.

When they’d come out of the white house, they’d found that Rachel’s message had worked and Debra and Juan had been waiting to be reunited with them in a fit of sobs and laughter.

But not Yalina.

As the hours droned by and the dead were collected to be given proper burial, it had been Debra who found her. She’d been draped over a small child, her back riddled with holes but the child had remained unscathed beneath her.

Even as a poacher, Mark and all, she’d died protecting a child.

For that reason, and for so many more, Yalina was a hero in Rachel’s book. Though they hadn’t exactly been the best of friends, she was a thread that had been woven into the fabric of her life and those around her.

They had all paid a price for freedom. The price at times, had been steep, but Hector had been right all those years ago: that whatever awaited them once the war was over was something worth fighting for.

The proof of it now stood in the garden before her.

“Let’s eat, I’m starving!” Juan nudged Rachel and she drew out of her mind to join the others.

“I made apple pie.” She said as she waggled her eyebrows at him.

“Look at you, embracing the mom life. Too bad the pies will stop once you go over to Dr. Everest’s to pop out the kid.”

“Well only for a little while. I could always teach you how so you can make them while I’m gone.”

“Me? In a kitchen? That’s like you going out hunting.” He spluttered into laughter. Rachel elbowed him in the stomach.

“Ouch!”

“Stop annoying my wife, Juan.” Hector said as he fell into step with them.

A wooden table with two benches on each side that Hector had built himself lay strewn with several dishes across it that Rachel, with the help of Mari, had prepared the night before.

“You made pumpkin muffins. God, I’m going to miss you once you give birth.”

“Stop being dramatic. I’ll only be gone a few days and then the baby and I will be back home.”

Juan shrugged his shoulder and shoved a muffin into his mouth. Just as he did so, Lena came out of the house with Manny on her hip.

“Juan! Your kid was plucking the feathers off the chickens again!”

“Damn it.” Juan grumbled. He wiped his hands on his jeans and went to scoop Manny into his arms.

“I hope our baby isn’t like Manny. I love him to bits but I don’t think I could keep up.”

Hector wrapped his arms around her from behind and his chin came to rest on the crown of her head.

“If she’s anything like you, I’ll be the luckiest dad in the world.”

“Well if she’s anything like you, I’m worried she might be president one day.”

Hector laughed and she rejoiced in the sound of it.

They stood that way for a while, both looking onto their little family as they chatted and ate. Charles stabbed his piece of roasted chicken with a fork and Debra’s face lit up with a smile as Juan handed Manny over to her.

Michael striking up conversation with Mari. Lena trying to catch her pet chicken, Mojo, who, was known to be quite the escape artist.

“We have Jed’s body now. It’s all...complete.” Rachel mused.

“That’s a good thing.” He told her.

“I know but it’s been so long waiting. Now I’m worried about what will happen next.”

Hector chuckled against her hair. “You still don’t get it, do you?” He asked as he gestured toward the field. “Look at our home, our family, our friends, our baby. You don’t have to worry about anything anymore. It’s over, beautiful. Now we just get to be happy.”

Glancing toward the remembrance garden, watching the way the sapling’s leaves fluttered in the wind, she decided he was right.

They had planted a tree for each of their dead loved ones so that their mark on this earth would never be forgotten and could remain for years to come.

It was a mark she was happy to look at. One that spoke of life and loss, of perseverance and of dreams yet to come.

It was a new beginning.

Hector was right.

There were no poachers, no wars, no talks of disease or killing. All that they had now was a beautiful, growing family. And a farm. With chickens and cows and horses and...Chucho. Because no home could ever be complete without him.

“Well, what am I going to do now that you won’t even let me lift a pail of hay?”

Hector pressed his lips to her cheek, one arm holding her close to him while the other rested against her stomach.

At his touch, the baby gave a slight lurch.

"Anything you want.”

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Not The End, Just The Beginning

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