46 Hours To Home

by Pat Riot

  As the rain continued to pound him his elation at finding the tractor was slowly replaced by irritation at the weather. Normally weather never affected his mood as he figured he had no control over it, so it was something to just deal with, weather hot or cold wet or dry, but due to his current situation his mood turned sour.

  Rob continued to walk, now through mud and water, and was grateful he had the Merrell hiking shoes on as they gave him good traction in the muck. He reached the area where the road curved slightly north towards the freeway then looped back west along the north perimeter of the farm property, just south of the freeway, and found a large gap in the fence line that looked like it was created when heavy rainfall washed out a large portion of the ground and took the fence with it.

  He walked through and hopped the guardrail, then moved onto the I-10 freeway. He crossed the three eastbound lanes of the freeway, hopped the two guardrails and pushed through the bushes that served as the center divider on this portion of the freeway, then entered the westbound lanes. He turned and started walking eastbound, entering Yucaipa while enduring some of the heaviest rain he could remember hitting this area.

  Chapter 8

  As Rob walked through the torrential rainfall he debated, Should I keep going, or find someplace to hunker down until the worst of this passes? I really want to get home but walking through this cold rain is starting to suck. As he wrestled with this question he noticed a car stopped on the shoulder of the freeway about one hundred feet ahead of him. He stopped and tried to determine if anyone was inside the car but was unable to due to the reduced visibility caused by the torrential rainfall. Through the rain he could see it was an SUV and possibly had a roof rack but he wasn’t able to make out any other details. Knowing the rain would give any occupants the same issues with visibility as it was giving himself, he decided to slowly approach.

  Rob was within twenty-five feet of the car when he realized, That’s not a roof rack, that’s a lightbar. Another ten feet and he could see the SUV was a black and white police unit belonging to the California Highway Patrol. Rob walked up to the SUV and looked through the windows. Empty. He could see the double gun lock situated between the two front seats that normally held a shotgun and a patrol rifle were empty.

  I should check inside, never know what I might find that could help me out. Rob took a step back from then made a circuit around the unit as he looked around. The rain was still coming down hard and limiting visibility, but he still checked as much as he could, trying to see if the police officer who was driving the unit was still in the area. When he didn’t see anyone out and about he tried the doors, but they were all locked.

  Hopefully the cop it belongs to is long gone and isn’t going to walk up as I’m doing this, Rob thought to himself as he pulled up the rain poncho, took his backpack off, and removed the Kershaw Siege. One swing of the hatchet and he was in, accessing through the driver side door. Rob reached in, unlocked the doors using the button next to window controls, pulled the door open, and leaned inside. He quickly looked through the compartments he could reach and found nothing useful.

  Rob moved around to the passenger side and opened the door, repeating the process of checking. Still nothing. He knew there would probably be nothing in the back seat as that is where prisoners are transported but he checked just to make sure, then made his way to the back cargo area where he found a large black metal box with several locking drawers. They were all unlocked, and Rob found them empty except for a few stacks of paperwork and some traffic collision reconstruction equipment. Oh well, it was worth checking.

  Using the cover created by the raised rear door of the SUV, Rob quickly stowed the Kershaw Siege in his backpack, made sure his rain poncho was on correctly, and was about to walk away when he realized the unit could still help him. This rain hasn’t lightened up at all, it might even be coming down harder than before. This unit is perfect shelter. Rob went back to the passenger side, quickly pulled off his rain poncho and backpack, tossed them and the gallon of water he still carried into the center console area onto the now useless radio equipment, then got in and closed the door. Rob sighed. It was a relief to be out of the pounding rain. I wonder what that ravine looks like now. I dodged a bullet with that one. This is nice though. Rob just sat and relaxed for several minutes, trying to decompress.

  Rob checked his watch. 2:38 pm. Hopefully this rain doesn’t last long, I want to get going. To help pass the time Rob first drank some water and ate two apples and a banana. He now had one apple and some of the grapes left over from what he was able to scavenge from the farmer’s market in Moreno Valley along with two and a half bags of mixed nuts, three 5-hour energy shots, and one BANG energy drink left over from the Chevron gas station he and Rachel had broken into.

  Once he ate he decided to do an inventory of his backpack to make sure his supplies were dry. He checked through each compartment and pouch, doing a quick visual inspection of all his supplies, and found the Eberlestock was holding up as advertised. This pack was well worth the money, Rob thought when he found everything was dry. Of course, the rain poncho did most of the work, but still.

  After checking his backpack and making sure everything was situated in case he had to make a hasty exit, Rob pulled out the picture of his wife and son. He stared at the picture and started to wonder if he would ever see them again. Rob’s mind started wandering and entered a dark place with different scenarios running through his mind. The house catching fire; looters breaking in; a plane crashing directly into the house. Stop thinking like that! Rob told himself. They are going to be fine. Monica is more than capable of handling any issue that might come up. I’m going to be home before I know it and find all my worrying was for nothing.

  Rob forced himself to think of better things. He reminisced about the trip they took shortly after Jackson was born. Rob’s family who were in Arizona lived in a town known as Sierra Vista and when Jackson was only one month old they made the seven-hour drive to surprise Rob’s family who thought it would be several more months before they met the newest addition to the family. Predictably Rob’s family was ecstatic and smothered Jackson with love. They spent four days before returning back to California. It was one of the best trips of Rob’s life.

  Rob leaned his head back and closed his eyes, enjoying the sound of rain hitting the roof of the police car. He was feeling sleepy after the broken sleep he endured that morning in the ravine and without knowing it Rob fell into a deep sleep where he had the same recurring nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. In it he was walking into his neighborhood looking forward to reuniting with his family and as he was turning onto his street a plane suddenly plummeted out of the sky and landed directly on his house. In the implausible way dreams sometimes happened, he could hear his wife and son screaming for help even though the entire house was gone. And no matter how hard he ran, it was as if he was running in place, unable to get any closer to the house.

  He finally awoke with a violent jerk and sat forward, breathing hard and trying to get his bearings. It took him a few seconds to come back to reality, but once he was fully alert Rob decided to get moving right away. The rain had abated and was just barely misting at this point, but even if the rain was still coming down like it was earlier, Rob would have set out. After that nightmare he wanted to get home as soon as possible. He rolled the rain poncho into a ball and put it into his jacket pocket then got out of the police car, pulling his backpack and gallon of water out behind him. Before he put the backpack on he pulled one of the 5-hour energy shots out and quickly downed it, then he started walking east, sticking to the westbound lanes of the I-10 freeway. He looked at his watch. 4:28 pm. I slept almost two hours. I needed it but that was way more time than I wanted to waste.

  A quarter mile further east there was a state-run rest area situated on the south side of the freeway, connecting to the eastbound lanes. Rob knew it was a regular stop for long haul truck drivers and people traveling in cars and during the overnight hours it
was regularly at capacity or even fuller. With the EMP occurring sometime around midnight Rob expected to see numerous cars and big rigs parked there, but even then he was surprised by the amount of people he could see. There were large groups of men, women, and children in the parking lots around the cars and in the grassy areas around the buildings that housed the bathrooms and vending machines. Rob estimated there were at least one hundred, and possibly closer to one hundred and fifty people, at the rest stop. Most of the kids were playing games like tag and catch, using a few footballs and baseballs, while most of the adults were in several groups of varying sizes talking amongst themselves.

  As he walked, someone in the rest stop caught sight of him and alerted everyone else of Rob’s presence. Rob quickly double checked his surroundings, trying to plan out what he would do in any given situation. Dozens of scenarios ran through his head and for each one Rob chose a course of action. He knew that if he had the scenario in mind, when it occurred he would react faster. To his left was the shoulder of the westbound lanes with a four-foot high concrete barrier wall, a few feet of dirt, a six-foot high chain link fence, then the road, Calimesa Boulevard, that ran next to the freeway. On the other side of the street was a home remodel business, then hills. Rob determined all of this in a few seconds. I should have jumped over to Calimesa when I left that CHP unit. Being on the freeway doesn’t give me much room to maneuver if I need to and virtually no cover.

  When he looked back at the rest stop he could see a group of around fifteen men were gathered and pointing at him while talking animatedly. Must be the self-appointed leaders of the group, let’s hope they’re smart enough to mind their own business. Rob could see that several of them carried something in their hands, but he couldn’t make out what the objects were. As Rob watched them, and they him, it appeared they came to a decision, as one of the males was now talking with the rest nodding their heads.

  Rob grew increasingly certain that they were going to try to do something but what that was, Rob couldn’t say. It could be anything from saying hi and trying to get information, to trying to kill Rob and taking what he carried. If Rob was a betting man, he would put money on the latter so he drew his gun and kept putting one foot in front of the other, mentally pleading with the group to stay put and let him continue. Rob’s brother Matt had a saying he was fond of, particularly when suspects tried to run or fight with him, and it came to Rob’s mind: Don’t start none, won’t be none.

  Rob once again checked his side of the freeway then turned and looked at the large group once more. When he did, he could see one in the group, a large white man with a thick beard and wearing a dirty white shirt was lifting a long gun, looks like a shotgun, and pointing it in Rob’s direction. Rob immediately threw himself to the ground as the shotgun boomed. He heard several small projectiles hit the concrete barrier wall behind him. He turned and looked at the ground next to the part of wall where the projectiles hit and could see several small BB’s rolling around on the ground. Several things went through Rob’s head. Birdshot. That idiot is at least fifty yards away and expected to hit me with birdshot. Rob knew that even if he had been hit the BB’s most likely would not have penetrated his jacket, and any BB’s that hit his skin would have probably done nothing more than give him some welts without breaking skin.

  Rob pushed himself into a crouch and moved several yards to the east, putting a little distance between himself and where the group would have lost visual of him. When he was in the new position Rob popped back up to a standing position, gun already pointed towards the rest area. It took him less than a second to acquire the group of fifteen men in his sights and he could see they were running towards the center divider in the eastbound lanes. Rob fired five times into the group. I hope I don’t hit any of those kids over there, he thought to himself. Fourteen men dropped to the ground, the fifteenth turned and ran for the buildings in the rest area, and everyone else at the rest stop started running for cover, with children crying and parents screaming for their kids to get down.

  As soon as Rob fired the fifth shot, he turned around, took his backpack off, and tossed it over the wall, all in one motion. He quickly followed, placing his left hand on top of the concrete and vaulting over while holding the gun in his right. He left the plastic gallon water container behind knowing it would just slow him down. Not worth it. I gotta be alive to be thirsty. As soon as he was over he crouched and put his backpack on, then flinched as gunfire started hitting the wall where he jumped over. It sounded like three or four different calibers.

  He started moving east, between the wall and the six-foot fence behind him. He wanted to get over the fence but knew with the fence being higher than the concrete wall the group of men would easily see him and would possibly be close enough to take an effective shot at Rob. He moved about fifteen yards then popped back up, gun aimed in the general direction of where he thought the group would be and could see several heads looking over the bushes in the center of the freeway, each one wielding a gun. Rob fired three more rounds towards them and was rewarded with a scream that caused them all to drop back down. Nine rounds left.

  Rob turned and ran, not bothering to crouch. He was hoping now that one of their group was hit they would stay down a little longer, or hopefully give up altogether, and he wanted to take advantage of the situation by putting as much distance between them as possible. Rob ran fifty yards before he risked checking behind him. No one. They must still be on the ground, now’s my chance. Rob threw his backpack over the six-foot fence, holstered his gun, and scrambled over the fence as fast as he could, the whole time expecting to hear more gunfire from the group.

  Once he was over Rob stayed low, picked up his backpack, and kept moving east as fast as he could. He was still crouched low trying to stay invisible behind the concrete divider wall when he heard gunfire that sounded as if it was aimed at the area where he jumped over the fence. At least three different guns, he thought. Good thing they didn’t open up like that when I was going over the fence. They aren’t really that bright. He followed Calimesa and moved past the T-intersection with Wildwood Canyon.

  As Rob ran he pulled a full magazine from the holder on his left, released the partially spent magazine, slammed the full one home, then picked up and placed the partially depleted one into the magazine holder. About one hundred yards past the intersection, the concrete wall ended and turned into a low guard rail. Rob would now have no cover if he kept running. Thinking fast he crouched down next to the end of the wall, pulled the Marlin .22 rifle off his backpack, and used the wall to stabilize the gun he looked down the freeway and waited.

  A few minutes later he could see a head pop up and look over the bushes, searching for Rob. Another minute or so and two men pushed through the bushes and onto the westbound lanes. One appeared to be the one with the shotgun that fired the initial round at Rob, the other was also holding what was possibly a rifle or shotgun however Rob was too far away to tell for sure. Rob sighted in on the one with the shotgun and slowly pulled the trigger. The gun fired and both men dropped to the ground. Rob chambered another round and fired again, aiming once more for the one with the shotgun. He waited a few more seconds and when one of the men started looking around Rob fired again. He figured it would give him some extra time to clear the area, time he desperately needed especially as the cover provided by the concrete was now gone, replaced by the guard rail.

  Rob turned and ran again, not bothering to take the time to secure the rifle back onto his backpack. He wasn’t sure if he had hit either one of the men on the freeway but knew he needed to take advantage of the short amount of time he had while the men were laying on the freeway trying to hide from Rob’s rifle fire. The freeway now veered slightly south and moved away from Calimesa, the road that Rob was on. On the left was a senior mobile home park and Rob figured with a bunch of retired people living there he would be safe to run through as long as he kept moving.

  He cut left into the main entrance, made a right on the
first interior street, and ran for all he was worth, now huffing and puffing, heart feeling like it was going to explode, but pushing through the pain and using the park as cover. As Rob ran he could see curtains moving in windows and a few small dogs barked at him but, other than that, he made it to the last mobile home in the row with no issues. Here, the road curved left and the houses on the left continued, but on the right the houses ended, and the mobile home park property was separated from a large canal buy a low chain link fence. Just to the south of the row of mobile homes was Calimesa, which had a bridge where it crossed over the canal.

  Rob hopped the chain link fence, slowly moved south until he reached the street, and could see the line of sight between him and the rest area was mostly obstructed by the terrain. He crossed the street at a crouch and decided to find a spot to hunker down and watch the group to make sure they didn’t send a search party after him.

  Rob crossed the bridge at a run and came to a car repair business that was situated between the freeway and the street. He took a quick look around and when he didn’t spot any people or animals on the grounds, threw his backpack over the gate, slipped the rifle through the gap between the gate and the fence, and quickly followed. After picking up the backpack and rifle he moved to the backside of the property closest to the freeway and found a small storage lot with about twenty cars in it that were waiting for repair. Never gonna happen now, Rob thought.