Next World Series | Vol. 5 | Families First [Homecoming]

Home > Other > Next World Series | Vol. 5 | Families First [Homecoming] > Page 22
Next World Series | Vol. 5 | Families First [Homecoming] Page 22

by Ewing, Lance K.


  David settled in with his new family, as if they had always been together.

  Nate and his group, not yet part of the Raton Pass Militia officially, fit in as well as anyone else, David supposed. Everyone worked hard since Lance and his group had left, erecting all of the greenhouses, preparing the soil and planting seeds.

  David and Mel gathered the groups at Beatrice’s house after a well-deserved one-day break from all but the basics of work.

  “Thank you all for coming here for supper tonight,” said David. “Our Chef extraordinaire, Beatrice, has whipped up a meal fit for the hard work you all put into the greenhouses. Once the food cycle gets going, we will consistently replace what we consume. There will be challenges, but paired with proteins of fish and game, it is sustainable for the long haul.

  “The key point moving forward is to not fall into the trap of comfort and laziness. For anyone who has never wintered up here, like Tina, our spring and summer can be deceiving. The more work we do over the next few months, the easier the winter cold and snow will be on all of us.

  “Our houses aren’t bad right now without air conditioning; in fact, most don’t even have it installed. Houses like my mother’s here,” he said, “have both a wood-burning fireplace and stove in case of a power outage. Some of the other houses, like where my family and I are staying currently, do not have a usable heat source. They were only occupied in the summer months and didn’t need to be kept warm in the winter. There is a hole in the wall with fake wood we used to call a California fireplace, more for looks than heating of any kind. Why would anyone install one of those in a Colorado home? I don’t know, but the bottom line is we need to covert or build a wood-burning fireplace into each home. For those never having done this, it means firewood, lots of it, and all split. Nate and some of his group have assimilated easily into ours, and I always believe an extra hand is worth more than an extra mouth to feed. Enjoy your dinner, and we will meet for breakfast and new work assignments in the morning.”

  “Dad! Dad!” called Mark, waiting until David had finished his speech.

  “What is it, son?”

  “We have James VanFleet on the radio!”

  “Is everything okay?” asked David.

  “I don’t know—just said he needed to talk to you and that it was important.”

  “Sure. Tell him I’ll be right there,” he said, whispering something to Tina.

  * * * *

  “Hello, James. To what do I owe the pleasure?” asked an upbeat David.

  “Hey, David. How you all doing up there? Get those greenhouses up?” asked James.

  “We finished yesterday and even planted the seeds. I do have some questions, though, about crop rotation.”

  “Sure thing, old friend. I’ll show you firsthand.”

  “Great! Are you headed up this way?” asked David.

  “Not exactly. I’m not in a position to make it up there now, but we need to meet.”

  “You want me to come down the mountain?”

  “Yep, I have some news you will need to hear from me off the radio,” replied James. “I reckon I need about two or three hours of your time. Can you make it?”

  “Yeah, I guess I could do that. How’s the road down to your place?”

  “Oh, I don’t know. Can’t be as bad as when Janice and I rode down it.”

  James looked at Jason, getting a smile out of him. Both never expected to be able to joke about how they met, but somehow they could.

  “When should I come?”

  “Tomorrow works,” said James.

  “That quick, huh?”

  “Yeah, that quick,” replied James.

  “Okay, hold on for a few and let me talk to Tina and Mel. They’re right here, so it should just be a minute or two.”

  David was back on the line in five minutes.

  “Not everyone is happy about it, but I’ll be there, and I’m bringing Mark with me on the four-wheelers. I have a quick group meeting at breakfast, but we can head down right after. We’ll need to head back up here by three or so. I want plenty of time before it gets dark.”

  “I don’t blame you,” said James. “Lunch is on us tomorrow, so tell Mark to bring his appetite.”

  “He always does,” said David, laughing.

  “You remember how to get here?” asked James.

  “That I do. We should be there by 9 a.m.”

  “Okay then. We’ll be watching for you, and Jason will come up and unlock the front gate.”

  “I hope I’m not up all night wondering what the news is,” added David.

  “Well, I’ll tell you this much now. It’s not the kind of shocking news, like a missing kid or injured adult, that might make you worry. However, it is the kind of news that one way or another will impact you, whether you stay home or not.”

  “Kind of like beachfront living with a hurricane you can’t see heading straight for you, right?” asked David.

  “Let’s just call it a tropical storm,” said James. “Nothing to lose sleep over yet.”

  David believed his old friend but had a restless night’s sleep anyway. Mark only knew he was taking a day trip with his dad and was happy for the change of scenery. Maybe I will get lucky and meet a girl my age, he thought, realizing it was unlikely.

  * * * *

  Mel helped David with the breakfast meeting, not handing out jobs but asking for volunteers. Breakfast was delayed by an hour after a strong summer storm dumped on the Pass most of the night. David would remain head of security and Mel in charge of supplies, but teamed up for the last two-man job on the list that nobody volunteered for.

  “It looks like we’re on latrine cleanout duty,” said Mel.

  “I think we should get started on it right away, like after breakfast,” David replied with a straight face.

  “Nice try and not a chance in this world!” said Mel, breaking David’s stone face into an “it was worth a try” grin.

  “I’ll pitch in cutting wood while you’re gone today and save you the pleasure of working with me tomorrow, elbow-deep!”

  “Okay, okay. That’s what I figured,” David replied, still grinning.

  David and Mark said their good-byes, getting a late start. Both Tina and Beatrice were concerned, with only Tina showing it on her face.

  “Would you be a dear?” Beatrice asked Tina, “and help me prep some food for the coming week? We should be finished about the time these men come back. Bring the girls, and let’s invite Katie to help.”

  * * * *

  David and Mark headed down the mountain, with Mark’s father leading in front. The winding mountain road sucked Mark into its world, navigating ruts and spots washed out by recent rains. The road was masterful at clearing his mind of recent tragedies that he could not seem to escape for more than a few minutes at a time throughout the day. He steadied his breath, with warm wind careening off his helmet and the occasional bump of a flying bug flattened on his visor. Mark let his dad get a little ahead and would gun it until he caught up with him, hitting the breaks hard and fishtailing the quad, only to fall back and try it again. The center of the old fire road was in decent shape, as those roads went, but the shoulders loosened up more than expected during last night’s rain.

  David started to slow to say something a dad would about being careful and watching out for one’s surroundings when he saw it up ahead on the corner.

  She walked with her cub down the center of the narrow mountain road.

  David stopped quickly, applying both brakes hard, hoping Mark didn’t run into him. He waived an arm up in a stop position as Mark careened past him and halfway around the corner before applying his own brakes, just as quickly. His momentum was too much for the corner, too sharp maybe. The back of his machine slid around, hitting the soft bank and throwing Mark off towards the tree-line when it started to roll. It all happened in a split second, David would recall later. When the scene cleared, his only son lay motionless at the base of a large pine tree.

&n
bsp; David jumped off his four-wheeler and had taken ten steps toward the accident scene when he remembered why he stopped in the first place.

  The roar from his left side snapped him back into focus. The large female black bear would likely have minded her own business, but Mark’s wreck had her scared and agitated.

  “Listen to me,” said David out loud, not taking off his helmet. “I’m not going to hurt your baby, but I need to check on my son.”

  In his haste, he hadn’t grabbed his rifle strapped to his machine. Another glance towards Mark and one back to his bike had him conflicted. He started to go for his rifle when Mark groaned.

  “Mark, Mark,” he called out and was headed his direction without a conscious decision.

  He ran to him with a flash of an elementary school class in New Mexico. People may be taught about hurricane preparedness in Florida or tornado survival in the Midwest, but in this part of New Mexico it was bears, and the first rule is Don’t run!

  David could see that Mark was moving more, even at a full run, and he tried to get to a sitting position before falling down again with a scream of pain piercing the mountain valley. David’s mom had always let him ride bikes as a boy but insisted he wear protective boots, pants, a jacket, and always a helmet. Mark had the same. Of course, they were not meant to lessen a tree impact.

  David ran towards his son with only a ringing sound in his head, like one might experience being close to a loud explosion. His heavy breath and heartbeat filled his ears but somehow on the inside.

  “I’m coming, Mark,” he yelled, “Mark, I’m comi...”

  The hit from behind felt like a Mac truck rolled over his back, pinning him facedown in the muddy ditch, only twenty feet from Mark. Large teeth clanked loudly on his helmet, scratching the outside, sliding down like fingernails on a chalkboard, with the first jolt pushing his face visor into the soft mud. David instinctively, or maybe he learned this in school also, pulled his shoulders up to the helmet to protect the back and used his hands to protect the front of his neck.

  The bear gnawed at his jacket, shredding his backpack. David had never been this close to a bear and thought the sounds were a mix between a growling dog and a cow in heat. He waited for the first bite or flesh tear from a large claw, looking towards Mark, who was still again. Play dead, David heard in his mind. Play dead! It went against everything he would have thought up on his own, but now it was worth a shot. He lay motionless, face into the ground. The weight on his neck was tremendous, forcing him to take shorter, quicker breaths—not on purpose but it was all he could suck in.

  “Oh God, don’t let me die—not here,” he may have said out loud or only thought. “My son needs help.”

  His head was foggy, disoriented, and the grunts and snarls seemed far off now, but he couldn’t breathe. The face shield of his helmet cracked under pressure, driving his face into the mud. The first and only other time this happened was in a local rugby match his senior year of high school. Thirty minutes into the second half, he was driven face-first into the mud by an opposing player. The beast of a boy nicknamed “Piledriver,” and a transfer student from England, of all places, landed on him before several more players piled on top. It was scary, even with referees only taking a minute to pull the bodies off. Now there were no referees, no time-outs or forfeits.

  He felt the snap of the first rib on his left backside. The second one took his breath and, on the inhale after, filled his lungs with mud and leaves. He tried to cough and exhale the grit, but it wouldn’t come. David looked at his son on the ground, as his father had been. He didn’t get to tell Dean good-bye, and now he wouldn’t get his chance with Mark. He felt sleepy, and his lungs no longer hurt. A sort of peace came over him and a calm voice was telling him, “It’s okay. You can come Home.”

  “I’m sorry, my son. I’m so sorry…” He managed to choke the words out loud enough for Mark to hear.

  * * * * * * *

  Chapter Twenty-seven

  Raton Pass, New Mexico

  Boom! Boom! The shots seemed miles away, but the pressure on his back was gone—only the sharp pain of snapped ribs remained. He turned his head to see a man with a rifle walking up the road, firing two more shots into the air. Boom! Boom!

  David lifted his head, drawing his first breath in over a minute, immediately coughing up thick brown chunks as leaf stems scratched his throat, and yelling out in pain. He had never broken a rib before but had heard the worst part was a sneeze or coughing fit before they fully healed. He was a believer now as he crawled towards Mark, every pull making his ribs scream with a knife-like stabbing pain. He ignored the bear, not seeing where she went and the shooter who he would have no chance of defending against anyway, and reached his goal.

  “Mark,” he said lightly, shaking him. “Are you okay?”

  “I’m alive, Dad,” he replied, not moving anything but his lips. “Is the bear gone?”

  “Yes, I think so…maybe,” he replied, before looking around and seeing it walking back up the road with her cub in tow.

  “I’m so sorry, Dad,” Mark said. “I was messing around, and all this happened.”

  “Where are you hurt?” asked David.

  “My chest hit the tree, I think. It hurts—hurts real bad. Am I going to die?”

  “No, son. I’m not going to let that happen.”

  “I feel a crunching when I breathe, and I can’t move my leg.”

  “Your legs? Both of them?” asked David, hearing it wrong and worrying about a spinal injury.

  “No, only my left one,” said Mark, yelling as he turned over.

  It didn’t take a surgeon to realize his left leg was snapped above the knee. It’s not a compound fracture, thought David, as he couldn’t see bone or blood, but the angle was all wrong. Anyone could see that.

  “Son, did you hit your head?”

  Mark took a deep breath before answering. “It just hurts so bad,” he said quietly. “I don’t think I hit my head on the tree…only in the dirt.”

  David glanced again up the road, seeing both mama and cub disappear around the next bend. He almost forgot about the man with the gun who would surely take his four-wheeler and weapon, leaving him and Mark to fend for themselves. He could see him talking on a radio, still 50 yards out.

  “Okay, Mark. I want you to hold tight. Where is your rifle?”

  “I don’t know, Dad. Maybe on the machine or somewhere on the road. I never saw it.”

  “When I say three,” said David, working what was left of his pack off his back. “I’m going to make a run for my machine and grab my rifle before he gets it. Lie still as you can until I get back.”

  “No! Wait, Dad. What if he shoots you?”

  “I won’t shoot first is all I can tell you, but he’s on a radio now and I don’t want us to be here when his men come. It’s our only chance.”

  “Wait, Dad. Where’s your walkie-talkie? It might still work. We’re only 20 miles away.”

  “Probably won’t work here, but maybe if we got to the top of the mountain… That’s as unlikely now as us walking out of here. But I’ll try to grab it too, just in case.”

  Once more, he glanced at the man who was looking in a different direction and still talking.

  “Three,” said David springing up and turning before he lost his nerve. One step, two, and his tattered backpack strap caught his foot, face-planting him down on the ground.

  He scrambled to get up, fighting the pain and stumbling forward. Boom! he heard, seeing the man with his gun pointed in the air and walking towards him.

  “You don’t need to do that, David,” he called out, not slowing his pace.

  “How do you know my name?”

  “Name’s Jason Davis and I met our mutual friend, James VanFleet, right here on this very road. We live with him and Janice, my whole family does, helping out on the ranch. He saved my life, and now I’m going to save yours. That must be Mark over there?”

  “Yes, that’s my son, and you alread
y know my name. How did you know to come up here?"

  “You’re late. We were expecting you more than an hour ago. So, James sent me up to check on you. He is still healing up, but Janice should be up in just a few with the truck.”

  “She’s coming up by herself?” asked David.

  “Yep, I just rode up, so I know it’s clear, plus we’re only a few miles from Second Chances Ranch and my radio still works. Let’s see if we can get your boy over to the road.”

  “Are you taking us home?” asked David, as they slowly helped a one-good-legged young man with severe chest pain.

  “There’s a bear up there—went right up the road.”

  “Yeah, the one who nearly killed me!” replied David.

  “Unless you have a good medical team up there, I suggest we bypass mama bear and let a doctor take a look at your boy. Janice has medical training—fixed me right up with a gunshot wound to the hip. Let’s see what she thinks. Besides, James may never forgive me if I just drop you off back at home and something happens to one of you.”

  “How are you feeling, Mark?” asked Jason.

  “Not good, sir. Something isn’t right—inside, I mean. Dad, I don’t want to go home yet; I want someone to look at me. I’m scared. I really messed up this time. How is it when something really bad happens, I’m always involved?”

  “No, Mark. It’s not like that at all. If the bear hadn’t been on the road, we could have raced down the mountain and had a good time. Bad things happen to everyone, even the good guys like you. It’s a tough part of life, and now it’s amplified a thousandfold. Jason, you don’t know what it means to have your help. I’m glad you were here, for both our sakes.”

  “Oh, I think I do,” Jason replied. “Like I said, it was James expecting you an hour earlier and asking me to check on you is all. Plus, he has a sense of things other people don’t. I wasn’t expecting this, though, if I’m being honest.”

  “Neither were we,” said David. “All right, we’ll have Janice take a look before making a decision.”

  Mark laid on his back in the road, with the truck showing up fifteen minutes later. Janice took him first, examining him where he lay. She made him as comfortable as possible but inflicting more pain than she had wanted to.

 

‹ Prev