A Tearful Reunion

by Darrell Maloney

  Was it possible this man wasn’t as bad as the others? That he was a decent man in some ways?

  She didn’t want to get her hopes up.

  “As far as Karen and Scarface, I suspect it’s only a temporary situation. Her lot may get worse very soon. And if it goes down like I think it’s going down, I might not be able to stop it.”

  “What do you mean? When what goes down?”

  “This is between you and me. Do not speak of it to your sister or anyone else. Understand?”

  She hesitated.

  “If you want to know what I’m talking about you’ll have to agree to keep it to yourself.”

  “Okay.”

  “The men are plotting against Scarface. They’ve never liked him much from the beginning. A leader should be as loyal to his men as he expects them to be to him.

  “He’s never displayed such a trait. He expects his men to do his bidding yet doesn’t give a damn for their own needs or welfare. He’s more a king in his own eyes than a leader of soldiers.

  “They came to me a few days ago. They floated the idea of staging a coup. They wanted to know whether I’d fight against them if they took Scarface out.”

  “What did you tell them?”

  “I said that military coups happen all the time. Not in the United States Army, but then again we aren’t the United States Army. We’re a bunch of misfits who couldn’t cut it in the military or couldn’t follow their rules. Or the rules of society.

  “I told them that coups happen all the time in other countries’ armies. And that they’re not necessarily a bad thing when they’re done for the right reasons. Like for removing a leader who’s in over his head or shouldn’t have been a leader to begin with.”

  “Who would take over if they forced him out?”

  “Most likely me, although they didn’t come out and say so.”

  “Will they kill him?”

  “Most likely they’ll have to. They could banish him, force him out, but he’d be back. He’s the type of vengeful guy who’d come back and try to kill us all. Most likely after finding and recruiting a second private army.”

  She was curious.

  This man obviously wasn’t like Manson. Yes, he was part of the vicious attack which killed her friends. But he also seemed genuinely concerned for the hostages’ well being. If he was a man of his word and wouldn’t sexually assault Kara, and would offer tips for Sarah and Karen to protect themselves, he must have some good in him.

  “Tell me about yourself, Mr. Parker.”

  “What would you like to know?”

  “We can start with your first name.”

  “John.”

  “Why are you here?”

  “I thought that was obvious. I’m one of the guys who killed your friends and took over your bunker, remember?”

  “Okay, so that was a poorly worded question. What I meant was, how did you come to be with these men? You don’t seem like the others.

  “I know that most or all of them broke out of Fort Leavenworth prison. But surely you weren’t there with them. Surely they collected you somewhere along the way.

  “Why did you join them?”

  “You’re wrong. I was there with them. Scarface and I were cellmates for several years.”

  She paused before the next question, as though trying to decide if she really wanted to know the answer.

  “Can I ask why you were there?”

  “I made a dreadful mistake. Let’s just leave it at that.”

  “Okay. I shouldn’t have asked. I’m sorry.”

  She could tell the question bothered him. That he was deeply ashamed and embarrassed about whatever “dreadful mistake” he made.

  And she studied his face. He was about her age, give or take a year or two. Tall and handsome, with the same rugged look that attracted her to Dave many years before.

  God, how she missed Dave. She missed his laughter, his touch. She missed his just being around, making her feel better when she was having a rough day. Just letting her know she was attractive and needed.

  “I need to get out of here. I wouldn’t want the men to think I was up to something. After all, you belong to them, not me.”

  She winced. Just a bit, but he noticed it.

  “I’d prefer to think I don’t belong to anybody,” she said. “I prefer to think I can make my own decisions about who I want to spend time with.”

  “Then take the advice I gave you.”

  Sarah was an emotional wreck. Seeing Dave again a few weeks before had renewed her hopes this nightmare might soon be over. That they really would survive with their whole family intact.

  A rarity in the new world.

  She’d begun to hope they’d be able to put the heartache and misery the blackout caused behind them someday. And get back to being a family again.

  Lately, though, she’d had premonitions of bad things on the horizon. Horrifying things. Things she didn’t want to think about, but forced herself to.

  She had dreams of Dave never coming back. Of never finding out what became of him.

  Or of Beth.

  She had to face the facts. The odds of Dave finding Beth were slim. The odds of him not making it back himself were probably even at best.

  She pondered her words to Parker. How she felt she didn’t belong to anyone. That she had the right to decide who she wanted to spend time with.

  She wondered why she didn’t say she belonged to her husband.

  Was it because subconsciously she believed in the dreams and premonitions? That she’d already given him up as lost?

  It was something she didn’t want to think about.

  She went to her bunk to rest.

  She fell asleep.

  And she dreamed not of Dave. Not of Beth.

  She dreamed of John Parker.

  Chapter 29

  As they nearest Flagstaff, Arizona the highway became steadily steeper.

  It wasn’t like the grade on the California border just east of Needles.

  No, here they were passing through the Prescott Mountain range. When Interstate 40 was constructed planners did a good job of dynamiting the mountains in the path of the new highway.

  It was a long and tedious construction project, but worth it in the long run.

  Both for travelers in four cylinder cars which took the mountains with relative ease, and for people like Sal, who used horses to cross over.

  The mountains were steep, to be sure. But the climb was gradual and took place over long stretches of curved roads.

  And the temperatures dropped dramatically with the higher elevation.

  All in all, the stretch through the mountains of Flagstaff was probably easier on the horses than the flat but extremely hot desert they’d just come through.

  They’d fallen into a regular routine now, leaving in the cool of the evening hours and walking through the night. The horses had learned, when the skies were overcast and particularly dark, to follow the white stripes which separated the lanes of traffic.

  Sal and Dave took turns, one driving and one napping.

  Beth split her time between lying on her mattress and watching for shooting stars above, and sitting on the bench helping drive the horses.

  Actually, she wasn’t fooling herself.

  She knew the horses pretty much drove themselves.

  But she was at the age now where she was starting to consider herself more grownup than kid. And helping out, even when her help was minimal, made her feel like an adult.

  At only eight years of age it was a stretch.

  But it’s something all eight year olds go through. They’re chomping at the bits to grow up, not knowing or believing that growing up really sucks.

  And that once grown they realize how short life really is and want to go back to their childhood.

  As a semi-adult in her own mind it was important that she prove her worth. Hence, her insistence on helping to drive.

  “Sal,” she asked when seated next to him o
n the bench one night, “How come you never let me drive until you saw Daddy let me?”

  “I don’t know, child. I suppose it was because even after all we’ve been through together, I still don’t know as much about you as he does.

  “And I tend to be overprotective. I was that way with Becky, and find myself being the same way with you as well.

  “Your father knows your capabilities better than I do, I’m sorry to say.

  “He was willing to give you a chance to take the reins and I had to admit you did a fine job of it.

  “I underestimated you, and I apologize for that.”

  “Oh, it’s okay. You had my best interests at heart. I’m not upset about it. I was just curious is all.”

  Each new sunrise, opening in a panoramic view directly in front of them, not only signaled a brand new day.

  It also signaled the light at the end of the tunnel, for once the sun rose they all knew they were not long from stopping for a late breakfast and to bed down.

  What time they actually did that depended on several factors, including how quickly it got hot on a particular morning and the horizon in front of them.

  If they had an unobstructed view for two to three miles in front of them, they might see a desirable rest stop ahead. A place with heavy trees where they could count on shade.

  Or a highway bridge which might indicate a stream or creek running beneath the roadway.

  Someplace they might be able to catch some fresh fish.

  On the other hand, if they were very tired at daybreak, or if the horizon ahead didn’t yield any promising places to stop, they might shut down things a bit earlier.

  In Dave’s mind, there was no longer a great need to rush.

  Headed west, he tried to hurry to get Beth away from her kidnappers as quickly as possible.

  Now that he knew she hadn’t been in any real danger, and had her once again in his company, he saw the chance to relax.

  After all, Beth was safe now. Sarah and Lindsey were safe in the Dykes’ bunker system. There was absolutely no sense in hurrying back and running the risk of overworking the horses.

  There was another reason Dave looked forward to sunrise each day.

  The chance to shoot a deer.

  Going through the Flagstaff area took them a full three days. Since it was a mountainous region, it was once chock full of white-tail deer.

  Dave knew the best time to take a deer was right around sunrise.

  He’d hoped to get one, and was confident it wouldn’t go to waste.

  They were seeing several nomads per day now, some in the morning before they slept and some in the late afternoon when they set out again.

  Sharing their venison wouldn’t be a problem.

  And what they didn’t share and couldn’t eat in two days Dave could turn into jerky.

  But the deer had been mostly played out.

  Oh, there were still some out there, but they were few and far between. And they were the more elusive of the deer. The ones who tended to hang out deep in the woods where the hunters couldn’t go.

  It wasn’t the end of the world, though. Dave saw two rabbits mating in a pasture fifty yards off the north side of the highway and took a shot.

  One fell away dead and the other was wounded.

  It tried to run but couldn’t.

  It slowly crawled away.

  Dave didn’t need a second rabbit.

  The one would feed them quite nicely.

  But he wasn’t like some others who’d save a second bullet and let the rabbit die a miserable death.

  He shot a second time, through the rabbit’s heart, and it fell still.

  He’d give it to the first passing nomad who wanted it. And if he had no takers he’d turn it into jerky.

  Dave was old school. He lived by the rules that had guided responsible hunters for a very long time.

  He didn’t shoot anything that wouldn’t be eaten. And if at all possible he never let a wounded animal suffer.

  Not all hunters in the new world followed such principles.

  But Dave always would, and he’d train his children to do the same.

  Chapter 30

  It so happened they crossed into New Mexico just before they stopped for the day.

  Another milestone reached.

  Water had been more plentiful the last couple of days and while this part of New Mexico was far from green and tropical it was a big step up from the Arizona desert.

  “I’ll start some rabbit stew,” Sal volunteered, “if you two can go through that trailer up ahead and see if you can find something to go with it.”

  “You don’t have to tell me twice,” Dave said as he started walking toward the trailer a couple hundred yards up the road.

  “Me neither,” Beth copied. “You don’t even have to tell me once.”

  She was eight years old and thought she was mostly grown up, but Beth was still cute as a bug.

  She didn’t understand the old saying, but she knew she had to outdo her father.

  Dave smiled.

  “Come on, Peanut. I’ll let you work the truck by yourself if you want.”

  “Really? Oh boy!”

  The trailer was bound for a large western New Mexico grocery chain. It had been opened up months before and rifled through several times since then. A pile of unwanted items littered the highway directly behind it.

  Dave lifted the girl onto the back of the trailer and said, “Okay. I’ll look through this stuff while you go in there. Don’t forget to take a break when you get tired and if you start getting thirsty.

  “I thought that stuff in the pile was stuff nobody wanted.”

  “Yes. But you have to remember that one man’s trash is another man’s treasure.”

  Another saying Beth wasn’t familiar with.

  “Wow! You mean like, buried treasure?”

  He laughed.

  “All that means is that just because somebody else didn’t want what’s in this pile doesn’t mean we can’t use some of it. The only way to tell is to go through it and see what’s in it.”

  “Oh. Need some help?”

  “No, honey. You’re searching the truck, remember?”

  “Oh yeah. What do I get?”

  “Use your own judgment.”

  “Oh, I know what that means. It means I get to choose.”

  “Exactly. Try to find everything you think we’ll need for the next couple of days. We’ll see how good you do.”

  She took off like a shot for the front of the trailer.

  Dave went through the pile, looking for anything of value.

  He found a case of men’s t-shirts in assorted sizes.

  He opened it up and took out two packages of size large and two packages of size extra large.

  Six new shirts for him and six for Sal.

  Dave had never been the type of man who wasted things.

  In a normal world he’d never dream of wearing a shirt once and then discarding it.

  But these were anything but normal times.

  These days it was next to impossible to do laundry. Fresh water was too precious to waste. Those who were lucky enough to live close to a water source, like a river or a lake, could wash their clothes and wear them again.

  But then they smelled like pond water.

  People who had no access to a water source typically wore the same clothes for several days and then discarded them, putting on new clothing in their place.

  Few people in the modern world took the time or effort to bathe on a regular basis. As a result, most men smelled like bears or dead fish.

  Women made more of an effort to keep themselves clean, because they were generally more civilized than the men.

  But it was not uncommon for the women to fall short, due either to lack of water or lack of time.

  It also wasn’t unusual for women who couldn’t wash up to douse themselves in perfume to cover up their body odor.

  It typically didn’t work as well as they tho
ught it did.

  Hygiene in the new world was hit and miss, and people tended to smell bad. Dave was better than most, but he was far from the man he was before the blackout who was fastidious about his hygiene.

  He found a bar of soap too, and set it aside.

  He wanted to make a better effort at cleaning himself so he didn’t repel Sarah when he got back to Kansas City.

  Chapter 31

  Dave had already resolved to take a swim at every pond or lake he came across, and to wash up in every stream or river.

  He knew it was a losing battle, but he’d still make the effort.

  He found a new pair of shoes for Beth, provided they fit her. He hadn’t bought shoes for her in several years. That was Sarah’s department. But the ones he found were neon pink with yellow laces. Her two favorite colors. And they looked to be about the right size.

  To Dave they were ugly as sin, but his girls always told him he had no taste when it came to fashion.

  He put them aside so Beth could try them on when she finished her own scrounging mission.

  From the rustling he could hear coming from the back of the trailer, she was hard at it.

  After a couple of minutes she dragged a case of peanut butter and placed it on the end of the trailer. She looked to Dave for his approval, but he was noncommittal.

  He’d wait until she finished to critique her selection.

  And all in all, it was a mixed review. When she finished, she’d lugged two cases of water to the trailer’s end, one case of potted meat, one case of canned ravioli, a twelve-pack of toilet paper and one case of Frosted Flakes.

  That much met with Dave’s approval.

  The four cases of melted chocolate bars and two cases of Raisinettes, not so much.

  “I’ll tell you what, Peanut. Take back the chocolate. I don’t mind you having a little candy, but see if you can find something that won’t get all over your hands and face and make you look like you rolled in the mud.”

  She traded the chocolates for a case of gummy bears and announced her job done.

  “Great job!”

  They’d garnered too many items to haul back to the rig, so Dave stacked them neatly along the shoulder of the road. They’d stop and grab them when they passed by in the rig that evening.