Beyond the New Horizon

by Christine Conaway

  John heard the distress in Sherry’s voice, and knew for her to yell at him, while they were under strict rules of silence, something had to be terribly wrong. As he ran down to the creek, where the yell had come from, he tried to imagine what could have caused the water to stop flowing. For it to be all gone as Sherry had yelled, some catastrophic had to have happened, somewhere.

  During his lifetime he had seen the water level go up and down with the seasons, but for it to be as low as Sam had said, he was taking the threat of the creek possibly drying up seriously. Without water, their plan to stay in the cabin was no longer a viable option.

  If he had given it any thought, he probably wouldn’t have chosen to come there, but he had pretty much been out of it. Mary told him what had happened, but his memories leading up to and of the shooting itself were gone. Journey told him, that when he fell he had hit his head, but other than a tender spot on the back of his head, he could neither confirm nor deny what happened.

  Now that he was finally back on his feet, he was ready to assume the responsibility. If not for Sam’s intervention, he, as well as his family, could very well have been held prisoner or worse. Sam told him that there was no doubt the man who shot him was intent on killing him. He sometimes wished that Sam had returned the favor and killed the men instead of simply tying them up.

  “Daddy, look,” Sherry hollered as soon as she saw him, “the water is gone, and the trout are stuck in the puddles. Can we catch them?”

  Frowning, John gaped at the creek bed. Sherry was right, the water had pooled in the gulley’s but was not deep enough to sustain the fish. Without water circulation, they would soon die. All that was left of a previously swift moving stream was the barest of trickles down the center. The rocks and boulders once submerged by fast running water, sat half buried in black sand covered in a thin skin of ice.

  “You want to help me?” John stepped into the still wet sand. Using only his cupped hand, flipped a small trout onto the bank.

  Sherry squealed and leaped on top of the flopping fish. She had been fishing since she was old and big enough to hold a pole and knew what she had to do to keep it from suffering. She smacked it on top of its head and with one last quiver it was still.

  “Good girl,” he flipped another her direction, “here’s another one. It would be a shame to just let them rot.”

  “And we like eating them so much too.”

  They had collected seven nice sized trout before John couldn’t see any more. He had trimmed the spindly limbs off a branch, leaving a larger one at the end forming a lopsided V and slipped the long end through the gills and out the mouth. One at a time he slid all of their catch on until the branch was full.

  As he’d been fishing his mind was occupied with the water flow or lack of it. When he was a kid, he, Sam and their friends had floated this particular creek, and from a lower elevation with inner tubes. Never had he known the water level to ever dry up.

  He wondered if the quake from earlier in the week had somehow changed the course of the creek. He would discuss the possibility with Sam when they returned.

  Sherry skipped on ahead, eager to tell the others about the fresh fish they were having for dinner.

  “Sherry, tell your Mom we’re moving to winter pasture and for her to get everything packed up.”

  She turned around jogging backward up the incline, “Oh, yay…will we see Carlos? Can we eat the fish first?”

  John shook his head wishing he had half of her energy. “I think we’ll wait and share the fish with Carlos. Tell mom just to throw everything into Gina’s trailer.”

  He watched as Sherry skipped off up the hill. He wondered how, with everything that had happened, how she managed to keep her positive attitude. He suspected having Abby around gave her a chance to be a young girl again.

  Halfway up the hill, John realized his error. He should have cleaned the fish before he carried them up. He sighed, turned around, and stomped back down the hill, his fish covered branch bobbed in front of him. The time alone would give him a chance to think without interruption. In the confines of the tiny cabin, he was seldom alone without either Mary or Journey fussing over him.

  John remembered how shocked he had been to find out how his family had grown while he was out of it. Mary had assured him that Journey had saved his life, but John wasn’t so sure he had been anywhere close to losing it. He had no way to see the exit wound, but the tiny puckers scar on his chest would hardly be enough to kill him. The tightness in his upper back made a full rotation of his shoulder joint next to impossible, but Journey said to give it another week before he could pick up and shoot his rifle. Until then, he would have to rely on Sam and the others to protect his family. He had tried holding his Glock out in front of him in a shooting stance and found it impossible to hold his arm straight for more than a few seconds. He supposed Journey knew what she was talking about, but it irritated him none the less.

  One thing he could do was to get started on the move to the box valley. With help from Ben and Matt, they could at least begin hauling their belongings. The trailer he had hauled up from the bottom of the mountain was more enclosed than his was, so they could load it, leaving room for Mary, Lucy, Journey, the girls and Nathan to ride in the back of it. Ben and Matt could ride on the fenders, for security.

  Getting there was going to be a little tricky, but he liked the idea of Mary being locked inside the trailer. Sam had told him what they had found at the ranch house. He and Mary had suspected it had been burned, but seeing the reality of it would be more than he thought Mary could handle, and they would have to pass right by it on the way to winter pasture.

  He didn’t want Mary to see it, especially with how fragile he thought she was.

  Maybe fragile wasn’t the right word, but he couldn’t think of another that fit. Mary was so worried about Nathan, as was he, and John hoped Ben was right about the goats and that at least one of them was a nanny and most of all, that she had milk. He knew that Journey and Mary had tried everything to feed his son and nothing had worked. It broke his heart every time he picked Nathan up. He barely made any noise when he fussed and sounded more like a kitten than either of his other two kids at the same age.

  It seemed to John that Journey spent more time holding and cuddling Nathan than Mary did and he wondered if it was her way of distancing herself from what she thought was inevitable. He, on the other hand, refused to believe that God had given them the miracle of Nathan only to let him die before his first birthday.

  “John? Is everything okay?”

  John blinked and realized he had carried the fish up from the creek, but didn’t remember the journey. He still held the fish he had cleaned in both hands.

  “Uh…yeah. I guess I was lost in my own thoughts. Ben, we need to move to the valley, and we need to do it today. The creek has completely dried up.”

  “That quick? I thought it was just low?”

  “It was low this morning but totally gone now. I can’t decide if it’s been rerouted by the earthquake or something is blocking it. Either one scares the crap out of me.”

  “Don’t we need to wait until Sam gets back?”

  “Nope. We’re going to have to make more than one trip anyhow, and the sooner we get started the better. Besides, he’ll know where we are.”

  “Okay then. Gina’s trailer is still hooked up, and the girls seem to have everything just about ready to go.”

  “That was fast work…Go ahead and load all of the tack, except maybe Matt’s and Sam’s. We’ll lead the horses over through the woods once we get all our belongings there.”

  “You got it.”

  Within the hour, the girls, baby Nathan and Mary were locked inside the trailer, and they left, pretty much as John had thought. The fire had been banked but not extinguished.

  As they passed where Sam had made the left-hand turn down over the bank, Ben explained what had happened to the Jeep.

  John shook his head, “I was waiting for him t
o explain, but that sounds about right.”

  Matt pointed out that the hay barn looked to be intact, and they briefly talked about getting the rest of the equipment from it. If no one had found it, there was a gravity feed gas tank they used for fueling the gas rigs and a hundred gallon tank of diesel for the tractors.

  As hard as he tried, John couldn’t keep his eyes from straying to his home. Just the sagging of the roof told him Sam had not exaggerated. John wondered how he could have handled the situation any differently. The people on his lawn didn’t want to listen to reason and by the time Sam told them to leave it was already too late. They were drunk and out of control.

  Sam had made the right call when he told John they were leaving. It was one of the few times John had let Sam have the last say in what they were doing. Had Sam not been with him, John knew he would not be alive today.

  At the bottom of the hill, and across from the road that led to the ranch, a trail wandered off through the brush. It wasn’t well marked, but it was one that John felt he could drive with his eyes closed if he had to. He couldn’t count the times he had walked, ridden and four-wheeled on it.

  As John worked the trailer between two stands of trees, Andy rode out in front of them. He raised his arm in greeting. John waved back and saw the corners of Andy’s mustache raise up in a smile. He backed the horse out of their way. As they passed, Andy tipped his cowboy hat at the tractor, “John, good to see you made it.” He looked behind the trailer as it passed as if expecting to see someone else following.

  Matt turned, “See you at camp?”

  Andy nodded and urged his horse back the way he had come.

  John studied the area around him, trying to mentally form a plan to block the trail off, or at least make it invisible to the casual observer. The only people who had real knowledge of the area were the branding crew and the hay crew. They had used the same people the past couple of years, and several were crossovers, young men doing both jobs. He didn’t expect any of them to arrive unannounced, and after finding the house burned and abandoned, he didn’t think they would bother looking any further. If conditions were bad enough in Missoula to force any of the guys to leave, John couldn’t imagine they would come out into the middle of nowhere.

  As soon as he had the thought, he decided he better tell the others, that someday they could have company. Out in the middle of nowhere is exactly where they might head. There wasn’t one of the boys from either crew that John wouldn’t welcome with open arms.

  As soon as John broke out of the treeline and made the turn in the winter range, he saw Carlos, standing hands resting on his hips, his face split by grin, showing off his store bought teeth.

  John realized this must be one of those times that the old man considered a special occasion. As far back as John remembered, Carlos had only worn them a couple of times, the last being when they brought Nathan home from the hospital.

  “Was hoping that was you. Been hearing gunfire from out on the road the last while. You might want to think of closing off the gap.”

  John nodded, acknowledging he’d heard Carlos and backed the trailer up beside the tent. Matt jumped off the fender and hurried to lower the landing gear.

  “Mathew, you in some kind of big hurry or something?”

  “That we are, Carlos. We need to try and get back before dark. We have another trailer to bring down and hopefully Sam is going to be back when we get there.”

  He and the others will be bringing the animals down through the woods, maybe tomorrow. I’m going to leave the kids and Mary with you.”

  Mary hugged Carlos as soon as the back door of the trailer was opened. He opened and looked at the blanketed bundle Mary had clutched to her chest.

  “He sick?” He reached out and took Nathan from Mary.

  “He’s not sick really. We just need to find him some food he can keep down.”

  Carlos scrunched his face up in thought, “Might have just the thing for the little guy. Don’t have much, but might help him. Come on in the trailer.”

  John came up halting them, “I’m going to head back and take Andy with me this time. Have Ben and Matt find a solution to blocking the trail behind us for when we get back, and maybe keep an eye on it while we’re gone.”

  “Been keeping an eye on it already. Samual said you’d be here, just didn’t expect you so soon.”

  “Ask Ben, we need to get out of here.”

  Carlos stood and watched them until they were out of sight. In the distance, he could hear rapid gunfire and was reminded of a time far in his past. As if the special occasion was already over, Carlos removed his denture, put it in his front shirt pocket and snapped it closed.

  Shaking his head, Carlos went to find Matt and Ben to tell them what he and Andy had decided about security.

  He saw where Andy had tied his mare to the trailer and realized someone would have to take her gear off and turn her out with the others.

  “Mathew…” he hollered.

  Chapter Twenty-seven……Earthquake!

  Sam had just decided they were going to have to make a run for it and they had already loaded up in the Jeep when the sounds of several small motors echoed beneath the underpass.

  “That’s good timing. Now can we get out of here?”

  “Yeah, but let’s give them a couple of minutes. I’d hate to get caught on the road by a straggler.”

  “In case you didn’t know it, it’s starting to snow, and we’re going to leave tracks if we wait too long.”

  “Sam? You feel that?” Gina felt the ground tremble under the Jeep.

  Lucas sat forward and leaned on the front seat-back, “Look, there’s a crack right there.” He pointed above them where the cement was splitting in two.

  “Well son of a bitch,” Guiltily, he looked as Gina as he turned the key, “Sorry,” he mumbled.

  “Don’t be sorry, just get us the hell out of here.”

  The Jeep roared to life sounding much louder in their semi-enclosed space. He slipped it into first and wheeled out from under the tunnel. All around them, the trees were beginning to shake and sway. The on-ramp began to roll under them trying to shake them loose. Where the road had been blasted out of the hillside, rocks began to roll down, bouncing as they hit the road.

  Gina ducked back when she felt as if someone had punched her in the face. The Jeep was bouncing enough that she was afraid to let go of the grab bar to feel for damage. With Sam steering all over the road to miss the bigger chunks of rock, Gina was afraid she’d be thrown from the cab if she let go.

  She heard Sam grunt and duck and knew he had been hit by the flying rocks as well. All she could do was hold on and pray.

  “Hang on!” Sam hollered as they entered the main highway. Boulders bounced and shattered in front of them, Sam swerved, avoiding a Volkswagon-sized boulder that had been shaken loose from above them. It bounced and shattered right in front of them, the larger pieces jumping the cement divider and careening off the drop on the north side of the highway. Ahead of them, they could see the rock wall disintegrating as the road bucked and swayed.

  “Shit! The whole thing is coming down,” Sam screamed and stepped on the gas. He shifted into another gear and the Jeep jumped forward, narrowly missing the rolling rocks.

  “Oh God!” Gina screamed as the cement divider began to slip away, a crack in the pavement opened, allowing the cement barrier to slip off the hillside. Sam drove onto the shoulder to avoid going down with it. The roadway in front of them collapsed right before their eyes, but Sam never let up on the gas pedal.

  The mountain screamed out as it came apart and was deafening to hear. Trees popped and crackled as they were uprooted and broke. A rock hit the hood of the Jeep and bounced smashing in the hood. The hood flew up blinding them. Sam leaned out the driver side, but didn’t let off the gas. With a wrenching sound, the hood came away, hitting the windshield, shattering it as it left. Bits of glass flew at them, and Gina ducked her head trying to avoid the flying pieces.


  The two cars that had previously been centered on the divider were no longer there, and neither was the roadway. Sam wheeled to their right leaving what was left of the pavement onto the wide shoulder. They bumped their way through and around huge rocks that had settled on the berm. Their exit was right in front of them. They had made it safely to the top as the shaking stopped and the road, or what was left of it settled down around them.

  Sam drove far enough away from the chasm on their left to be safe from sliding down into the now widened gorge on their left side.

  “Is everyone okay?”

  Gina turned around in her seat to see Lucas with a death grip on one of the baby goats. Eyes big with fright and white-faced, Lucas nodded without speaking.

  “I think so,” Gina said and wiped at the trickle running down the side of her face where she’d felt the punch from earlier. Her hand came away red with fresh blood. A chip from the flying rock must have hit her, cutting with a sharp edge.

  From the bed of the Jeep, she could hear scuffling and bleats from the adult goats. The sleeping bag they had covered them with was bouncing around as the goats tried to escape their confines.

  “Are we safe?”

  “For now I think…unless the whole mountain face shears off.”

  Sam was dabbing at his own face, which was covered with spots of red. He wiped at his forehead to stop the blood from running into his eyes. He picked pebbles of glass off his face. Bending over he shook his head little shiny bits falling to the ground. He took his coat off and shook it out. Inside the front seat, glass sparkled from every surface.

  Sam climbed out and stood to look around. The whole landscape had changed in a matter of a few minutes. Behind them, they could see the highway had slipped completely off the mountainside leaving gaping wounds in the rock. The semi carrying the whiskey was gone as well as every other vehicle that had been parked or wrecked.

  With the plaintive bleats coming from the back, Sam went and uncovered the two goats. He heaved a sigh of relief when both were still alive.