by Pat Riot
He went to the west side of the lot and chose a pickup truck to use as a lookout. He climbed into the bed of the truck and started watching the freeway and street as his breathing and heartrate finally started to slow. If I keep having to run like this, I’m going to be ready to give Rachel a run for her money in a foot race. As he watched for movement he pulled the ammo boxes from his backpack and replaced what had been expended. First the eight 9mm rounds from his XD magazine, then four rounds in the .22 magazine, one of those being the one he used on the rabbit the night before.
As Rob watched he could see several people carry a body from the center divider of the freeway back to the rest stop. I got at least one. As he watched they walked back to the westbound lanes and picked up another person and carried them to the rest stop as well. Guess I got two. This time he could see it was the guy with the beard and dirty white shirt who took the first shot at Rob.
He was about half a mile away from the rest area and couldn’t hear anything being said, but it was obvious what was happening when a female came running from the buildings of the rest area and started hugging one of the two men laying on the ground, obviously hysterical and out of control. You dumb bastard, Rob thought of the man. You should have just stayed in the rest area and left me alone. Rob couldn’t tell if either man was dead but knew if they weren’t they would be soon. Without medical care, the bullet wounds would become infected and the person would still die, it would just take longer for them to expire. Rob felt no remorse, knowing the world now operated under new rules. It was all about survival. Either you did whatever you needed to do to stay alive, or you fell victim to someone who would.
Rob drank some water from his canteen then used it to fill the water pouch back up. He was down to the water in the pouch and the water in the plastic water bottle he collected from the ravine. After watching for fifteen minutes, finishing two of the protein bars, and seeing no sign of anyone trying to follow, Rob decided it was time to get going. He looked at his watch. 5:21 pm. Rob secured the .22 rifle to the backpack then jumped out of the truck bed.
As he made his way to the front of the business something caught his eye. That’s an early 60’s Corvette. And it looks like it’s in pretty good shape. Wouldn’t that be something if I could drive that home. Monica would be surprised as all hell when I power slid into the driveway in that. Rob walked over to the baby blue classic car and found the interior was in great shape, but when he walked around to the hood his spirits fell. The front grill was missing, and Rob could see the engine compartment was empty. They must have been in the middle of working on the engine. Guess that means no cruising home for me.
Rob left the car behind and walked out to the front gate. He once again threw his bag over, this time using the paracord attached to the carry handle to lower it to the ground, then followed it and stepped out to the street, checking his surrounding the entire way. As he looked around, Rob could see a side street just east of where he was standing so he moved close enough to read the street sign. Avenue G. It was time to head into the city.
Yucaipa had a population of around 50,000 people and covered an area of twenty-seven square miles. Not as densely populated as Moreno Valley but not as rural as San Timoteo and Live Oak canyons he came through. Rob chose this route due to the availability of cover and concealment but would still need to remain vigilant as he passed through.
Avenue G was a narrow road that curved back and forth along the south side of the canyon as it made its way east for almost two miles where it ended at California Street. It was lined with trees and in several places pushed directly up against the canyon wall and there were numerous houses and side streets Rob would need to navigate past as he followed Avenue G. The side streets came from the top of the canyon rim and turned sharply east along the canyon wall as they descended into the canyon, then turned north until they reached the north wall of the canyon where they turned sharply west and climbed up the canyon wall to the north rim.
There was also a large flood canal that ran roughly parallel to Avenue G but was situated closer to the north wall of the canyon, making its way all the way past California and then past the east edge of the city. Rob would have elected to use that instead of the street, but with the heavy rains it was currently a swollen river.
As Rob started walking east on Avenue G the first thing he passed was another mobile home park on his left, this one completely burned down. On impulse Rob walked into the park and looked around as he walked through ash and the scent of smoke. It was depressing.
Amongst the charred remains of the homes were the belongings of residents who had made a hasty retreat, trying to escape the inferno. Here were some children’s toys and stuff animals, apparently dropped as the family ran. There a small SUV with the cargo hatch standing open that had a pile of soot covered clothing and shoes inside. In one burned out shell of a mobile home Rob thought he spotted what looked like three bodies; two adult size and one no bigger than a toddler. He couldn’t help shedding a few tears as the sight of the small burned body triggered thoughts of his own son Jackson. Rob couldn’t find one home left standing, the entire park, including the combination clubhouse and park office, was ashes. Then Rob spotted what looked like the tail of a small plane sticking up from the wreckage of one of the homes. I wonder if he was flying when the incident happened and crashed here, causing a fire that took everything out. Or if he crashed and the fire happened later and just happened to burn everything down. Either way, I hope a few of these people survived. This is depressing. I gotta get outta here. With that he cut through the space between two burned down homes and back onto Avenue G.
Rob soon reached the first intersection which is where the canyon walls began. 6th Place went to the left, due north, and 5th Place angled to the right, in a southeast direction, up the incline created by the beginning of the canyon then leading onto the canyon rim. As Rob paused to check all directions of the intersection he thought he heard a motor. After listening for a few seconds, he was sure of it. It sounded like a motorcycle engine and was getting louder, possibly coming from 5th.
Rob quickly ducked into the bushes on the left side of the road and waited as the motor grew closer. Then, it flew by, going at least fifty miles per hour on the narrow road, and quickly fading to the west. In the quick look he got, there was only one rider wearing all black riding a red and white dirt bike. If I had a bike like that I could be home in ten minutes. I wonder where they’re heading.
Rob waited a few minutes to make sure there were no others coming, and after hearing only birds chirping and leaves rustling in the wind, he headed back out. As he walked he passed houses that ranged from very large to very small, but they were all similar in that they sat on large properties. A lot of the properties he passed were horse or cattle ranches or small farms. Too bad I have never ridden a horse. I’d steal one and ride home like I was in the Wild West. Hell, it’s probably going to be like the wild west before long anyways.
Rob kept going, pushing past several ranches and houses without seeing or hearing anything. His knees and feet were starting to ache, so he popped some more ibuprofen as he walked. He reached the intersection with 5th Street and repeated the process of checking in each direction before crossing.
Right after crossing 5th, Rob heard yelling up ahead. He moved into a small stand of trees on the right side of the road and tried to get a visual of what was happening. Rob could see a white house on the other side of the street and thought the yelling might be coming from there.
After a minute or so four teenagers, three white males and one white female, all between fourteen and twenty years old and wearing black clothing, burst out of the front door of the house, arms loaded down with canned food. They almost made it to the front gate when the homeowner chased them out while yelling that they were thieves and needed to drop the food or he would shoot. When the first teen reached the front gate, the homeowner made good on this thret, shooting one of the boys in the back and causing the rest to dr
op the food they were carrying. They ran for their lives, turning east in the street and disappearing from Rob’s view, leaving their wounded friend behind.
The homeowner was now at the front gate and Rob could see he was a white man in his fifties. He was swearing and Rob thought on the verge of tears. A lady, Rob assumed the man’s wife, came out of the house. “Why’d you shoot them? Why?” She wailed.
“This is the last of our food,” the man replied, almost in shock. “I told them to just leave us alone and move on to someone else. If they took this food, we would be dead in a week.” At this point the man broke down sobbing. “I didn’t want to do it, why didn’t they listen?” His wife was now at his side with her arms around him, crying as well. After a few minutes they picked up the food the teens had dropped and took it back into the house.
Jesus, what kind of world do we live in now that someone has to decide between starving to death and killing a kid over food? Who’s in the wrong here? Rob asked himself as the moral dilemma ran through his head. The kids for stealing the food because they were quite literally starving to death? Or the man who used deadly force to keep the food that belonged to him, so he could stave off starvation for him and his wife just a little longer? Rob shook his head, unable to come up with an answer to the question. On one hand he didn’t blame the kids for trying to survive, and on the other he didn’t blame the homeowner for protecting what was his. He knew in the end he would do whatever he had to do to protect and provide for his family, up to and including killing someone.
Rob didn’t want the man to come back out and think Rob was with the group of teens who had just tried to steal the food, so he waited another ten minutes to see if the homeowners would come back out before attempting to pass. Rob moved quickly and quietly, keeping an eye out for anyone who might be watching. He continued past the house and walked almost a half mile before he heard crying. As he came around a bend in the road the three teenagers that escaped the gunfire a few minutes prior were sitting next to a tree crying, lamenting their decision to steal food and arguing about going back to check for their friend. They didn’t notice Rob until he was almost next to them. All three quieted down and stared at Rob without speaking while huddling closer together, fear and grief on their face.
Rob realized they were probably afraid he was coming to finish what the homeowner had started back at the house, so he said gently, “Hey guys, sorry about your friend. I know it’s not what you want to hear but going back for your friend isn’t a good idea. He didn’t make it and if you go back you might end up getting shot too.”
When Rob mentioned their friend was dead all three started crying again. Between sobs the girl started asking Rob questions. “Why did he do that? We just needed some food. I know we shouldn’t steal, but our parents are dead, and now our youngest brother too.”
Between the girl’s words and Rob being able to see the resemblance they all held, he realized they were all siblings. Siblings whose parents, and now youngest brother, were dead. His heart broke for them. “Listen, I’m sorry about your brother and your parents. I don’t know what to tell you, other than I’m sorry and you guys need to watch out for each other as much as possible. I know it’s not much but take these. Maybe they will help you get through a few more days.” Rob pulled the protein bars from his backpack and gave them the remaining ten bars. They looked at him stunned before taking the bars. Probably the nicest thing anyone has done for them since all of this started. “You guys live around here?” Rob asked.
The oldest boy answered, “On fifth near Avenue K. Our neighbors wouldn’t help us, said they didn’t have any food to spare. That’s why we started trying to steal it. We have a little food at home, but I knew it would only last us another day maybe, and I wanted to try to make sure we don’t go hungry at all. Our parents both had heart problems and when the power went out I think their pace makers stopped working too. And now Jake is dead, and it was all my idea. It’s all my fault.” He and his remaining siblings broke down sobbing again.
Rob waited for them to quiet back down before speaking. “I can’t imagine what you guys are going through, and I won’t patronize you and say I understand your pain, because there is no way I could know. What I will tell you is you are doing the right thing by watching out for your siblings. I’m not saying stealing from others is the right idea, but maybe some of those stores on Calimesa on the other side of your house wouldn’t miss a few things from their shelves.”
The boy blinked a few times and Rob could see the lightbulb go off in his head. “Why didn’t I think of that? Stupid, I’m so stupid.” He shook his head sadly as he talked.
“You’re not stupid, you’re learning. This is a whole new world we are living in.” Rob wasn’t sure why, maybe it was the looks on their faces, maybe it was the thought of his own brother being left dead in someone’s yard with no way to bury him, but he offered to do them a favor he never should have considered. “If you want, I’ll go back and see if I can get your brother. Like I said, he didn’t make it, but I know if it was my brother I would want to properly bury him.”
“Really? You’d do that for us?” the girl asked. “Why?”
“Like I said, if it was my brother I wouldn’t want to leave him there. No promises, all I can do is try. You guys wait here for me and I’ll be back, okay?” They all nodded so Rob turned back around and walked the half mile back to the house where the carnage had taken place. He arrived at the edge of the property and studied the house for a minute as he tried to come up with a plan. Their brother was laying in the front yard on the sidewalk about five feet from the front gate and there was no way Rob would be able to sneak in and carry him out of there without the residents having a good chance of spotting him. Why did I offer to do this? I’m the stupid one. Rob decided a direct approach would be best.
He walked right up to the front gate and yelled towards the house, “Hello, anyone home? Please don’t shoot, I just need to ask you something!”
“What the hell do you want? Just leave us alone or you’ll end up like your friend!” a male voice responded from inside.
“I just want to carry the body away. All those kids are siblings and they would like to properly bury their brother, that’s all. I promise I’ll just pick him up and be on my way.” At mention that the kids were all siblings Rob heard a female burst into sobs from inside the house.
“Why would I allow that? They’re the ones that stole from me,” the man snapped at Rob.
“You old bastard!” The woman screamed at the man. “You already killed their brother, at least let them mourn him with a funeral!”
“Look, I’m not siding with the kids, “Rob said. “I’m not saying what they did was right, but they have suffered enough. They’re just kids, at least let them have some closure.”
A few beats later the male finally answered, voice hoarse, “Okay, go ahead, but no funny business.”
“No funny business,” Rob agreed. He opened and walked through the front gate and approached the body. He could see the kid was about sixteen and had taken a round right in the middle of the back, through his spine and probably into his heart. Looks like it was instant at least. Small solace. Rob picked up the body and positioned him into a fireman’s carry. “Thank you,” Rob said towards the house as he turned and walked out of the gate. He didn’t bother trying to close it as he turned and headed back east. He walked the half mile back, pausing once to reposition their brother and once to rest for a minute. As he walked he could feel a wet stickiness begin on his neck. Damn, I should have used the rain poncho to cover myself. Oh well, too late now. At least he’s too young to have any serious diseases. Probably.
As he was approaching the remaining siblings he could see all three had a despondent look on their faces. He was only a few feet away when the oldest finally looked up and realized Rob was back. He jumped up and helped Rob lower his youngest brother to the ground where all three siblings gathered around and started crying again.
&nb
sp; Rob waited respectfully a few feet away to give them time to mourn their dead loved one. Listening to them was heart wrenching. After a few minutes he quietly asked, “Hey guys, I’m really sorry, this might not sound like the right time to ask something like this, but I have to know. Some of his blood got on my neck and back, he doesn’t have any STD’s or anything like that you know of, right?” All three shook their heads no, so Rob continued, “Okay, thanks. Listen, I’m going to get going now. Again, I’m sorry about your brother. I hope you guys get through this. Good luck to you.”
The oldest boy looked at Rob. “Hold up, what’s your name?” he said through his tears.
“Rob.”
He got up and stuck out his hand to Rob. “Thank you so much. I’m Joey, that’s Miriam, my brothers are Johnny and Ricky.” His voice cracked as he said the last name and Rob knew Ricky was his dead brother. “Thank you for bringing him back.”
“You’re welcome,” Rob said with a sympathetic smile as he shook Joey’s hand. “Good luck to you guys. Take care of yourselves.”
Rob turned and walked away. When he was fifty feet down the road he heard Miriam yell at him, “Hey!” Rob turned back around. “Thank you,” she said, tears streaming down her face. Rob gave her a sad smile and a little wave before continuing to walk. He said a prayer for the kids, knowing it was probably a futile gesture but doing so anyways. As he walked he took the bandana from his backpack, used a puddle to wet it, and did his best to wipe the blood from his neck and upper back.
Rob arrived at the intersection with 3rd Street. A little east of the intersection on Avenue G he could see a roadblock, made with disabled cars, set up with several men and women standing around, all of them armed with an assortment of firearms. He thought about trying to talk his way through like he did with Jim Bowman in Live Oak Canyon but decided not to. Maybe it was what he just witnessed with the teens, or maybe what occurred on the freeway, or the situation overall, Rob wasn’t sure exactly why, but he decided that approaching the roadblock would probably be a mistake. So instead, he turned left and headed north on 3rd. It was sooner than he wanted to turn but would still take him in the general direction of his house. As he walked it started raining again. Not very hard, but enough for Rob to take his rain poncho out and put it back on.
