by S A Ison
“Ah, well, let me think. I think I have some in the spare room. If you folks need to use the facilities, there’s an outhouse in the back yard. Sorry for the smell, nature of the beast.” He laughed softly and shrugged, the tips of his ears going pink. Pope was in his early seventies with sparse white hair. He was tall and lanky with a small paunch. He rubbed at his long upper lip and looked around. He disappeared into a room and came out smiling, holding a packet of handwipes. Then Monroe looked at the homemade diaper and then looked at the group.
“You don’t have real diapers for the little one?”
“No sir, we rescued her from a bad situation. All we have are these rags. I’ve been feeding her as much as I can, and well, we just have what her mother had on her. Her mother was murdered.” Lydia ended, and Yuma reached over and laid his hand on her shoulder and squeezed.
“Oh, poor little mite. I’ve got some baby things, I think anyway. My friend, Donna, she’s a widow, she collects clothing and such for the church. Lots of kid’s things. I don’t know what I have, but it’s stored in the back bedroom. You’re welcome to what you can find.” Pope said, his cheeks pinkening at the mention of his friend. Yuma smiled.
“Oh, my goodness, oh, that would be wonderful.” Lydia said, a true smile coming to her face.
“You folks feed yourselves, I’ll take the little lady and see if we can’t get yonder child fixed up.” Pope grinned, grabbing a large flashlight.
Phoenix looked at Yuma and then at Monica. He shrugged and moved to the stove. Yuma followed and saw several bowls waiting on the counter. His stomach rumbled and he felt the heat rise when Phoenix looked down at him. He saw the sadness there in those gray eyes, but he saw humor too and Yuma grinned and shrugged. Yuma scooped the stew into two bowls and took one to Monica. He looked out the window and pointed with his head.
“Is that an outhouse?” He asked, looking at Phoenix, who looked out the window. The sky was heavily laden with slate clouds, the rain still coming down. The day was nearly gone and they could make out a building that was painted with colorful stripes. Phoenix snorted.
“I think so, there’s a few sheds and a barn out there, but that looks like an outhouse.”
Yuma shook his head and took the bowl and placed it in front of Monica. He set a spoon down as well. Setting his bowl down, he sat beside her. He was conscious of her presence and tried not to stare at her. She was very pretty and he was sure she wouldn’t appreciate the attention after the near rape.
Monica inhaled the stew; she was still in a state of shock at the events of the day. Her brain was cocooned in a numb haze. She’d run for her life as the two men had chased her, the backpack heavy and jerking at her movements. It was as though she were running in the ocean, water to her shins, each step arduous. Then, she’d been hit from behind and had flown to the ground, the breath knocked out of her. She’d been thrown over and the stench of her attackers had made her gag. She had screamed and fought and received smacks and punches. She had fought for her very life. She had gotten a good kick in, and the man had taken his gun and clubbed her.
When she’d come to her senses, she’d been shocked and grateful to see these strangers. Their concerned faces around her. They had saved her life. It was a debt she could never repay. The man beside her ate quietly and she dipped her spoon into the stew. It was good. She looked up when Lydia came back into the kitchen with a bag of clothes.
“I can’t believe it, I found some things for Demi, and I found cloth diapers and plastic pants.” Lydia’s face was pink with excitement. Monica smiled; the child was lucky to have been found by these kind people. Lydia went to the living room and proceeded to strip the baby.
Monica felt deep, gut punching sorrow, she’d lost Mike, and they had lost their families. On a fundamental level, she understood the thinking behind bombing and annihilating the enemy, but the price tag was too high. Death by invaders or death by your own government. It didn’t make any difference to those doing the dying. They were all caught in the middle. She pushed her stew away, her appetite gone. She looked at Yuma, he was watching her and she smiled and shrugged. He nodded, and patted her hand.
“Our lives have been changed, so have our destinies. Who we once were, we are no more. My father always said we had a choice, to act or react. I wonder about this. But I choose to be strong and to fight against the bad, I will never give up.” He said quietly.
FIFTEEN
Calkins, MT
Miles turned off the radio and looked at Jael, and tears were sliding unnoticed down his cheeks. He heard Julian choke and Jennifer whimper.
“Do…do you think they were there? Do you think they were k..k..killed?” Jael asked, her hand covering her mouth.
“I don’t know, honey. They should have been there four days ago. The bombardments started two days ago. If they got there and were caught or looking for their families? I just don’t know.” Miles said weakly, shaking his head. Thor came over and placed his large head on Miles’ lap and whined. Miles placed a shaking hand on the dog’s head and Albert jumped on to the couch and got into his lap. Jael reached over and petted the dogs.
“Maybe they found their families and left? Maybe they’re still traveling?” Julian said with hope but Miles could see that the young man didn’t believe it. Miles was sure they would never know, unless they returned. Would Yuma leave them and head home? No, he was a faithful and loyal friend, he’d not leave Phoenix or Lydia.
“How could they do that? Just bomb the hell out of those places?” Julian raged, wiping at his face, his cheeks red with fury.
“Our government would do that and worse. Afterall, they made the damned weapon that killed the country. Instead of a defensive weapon, they build an offensive one, and it was turned on them, and us.” Miles said, once more feeling deep guilt. He knew he wasn’t responsible; he’d destroyed all the notes and files he’d been responsible for, but still. He couldn’t stop the government from doing what it wanted, any more than Jael or Julian. He should have done more to stop Phoenix and Lydia from leaving.
“I should have stopped them.” Julian said, echoing his thoughts.
“Me too, there must have been something we could have done.” Miles said.
“There wasn’t, you know as well as I do. It was something they had to do Miles. Just like you had to destroy your work, and you did. But, no matter what we do, most of the time, it’s out of our hands. The rest of the world will spin and destroy itself. All we can do is hang on and try to survive.” Jael said, wiping her eyes once more.
“I wish we could go look for them.” Julian said softly.
“I do too, but we can’t. We’ll keep them in our prayers to make their way home. That’s the best we can do.” Jael said softly.
Ω
Creston, WA
Phoenix sat on the floor; Monroe had invited them to spend the night. Outside the rain still fell, but had lightened in its intensity. From time to time, the sky beyond the windows, lit up.
“What do we do now?” Yuma asked, he was also sitting on the floor. Monica and Lydia were sitting on a small sofa and Monroe in a dilapidated lounger.
“We head home. There’s nothing else we can do.” Phoenix shrugged.
“Do we have enough gas?” Lydia asked, Demi sound asleep in her arms. Phoenix thought she looked tired, there were purple smudges under her eyes. He got up and walked over and smiled down, taking Demi. The child’s eyes opened and he smiled down into her face. Her mouth twitched with a sleepy smile and her eyes closed.
“When we hit that UPS truck yesterday, I was able to siphon enough for the gas cans and also fill the jeep. If we’re careful, I think we can make it. Especially because we know we have to take the longer route home. We won’t have to backtrack like we did coming this way.” Phoenix sat down on the floor again and patted Demi softly on her back. She was starting to put on weight, he could feel the difference. Each ounce put on was precious. She had eaten a little of the rabbit stew, smearing a lot of it on her face. She smell
ed better too, her body getting the nourishment and hydration she needed.
“Where are you going?” Monica asked.
“We live on a farm, a few hours from Helena. We only came west to find our families. We were flying home for Thanksgiving, when our plane crashed. We were the only survivors, and our friend, Julian. When we walked out of the crash site, we met up with Miles, and that’s about when we found out what had happened. An EMP. We joined up with Miles’ friend, Jael, and she invited us to live at her farmhouse.” Phoenix said.
Monica dug around in her pocket and pulled out a crumpled piece of paper and handed it to Phoenix. He opened it and read it, his mouth dropping open.
“These were scattered about a week before the Chinese and Russians came. We all thought it was propaganda. Do you think it is propaganda? Do you think our country built a weapon?” Monica asked. Phoenix looked at Yuma and then Lydia, both shook their heads slightly. They didn’t know these people and telling them about it would lead to questions about Miles, and they would protect Miles.
Phoenix blew out a breath, gaining a few moments for thought. He didn’t want to lie, but he couldn’t tell the truth.
“I think it might be true, but to what extent and if they exaggerated or out and out lied, I don’t know. I do know, they came in with false pretenses, to enslave the Americans. We had heard on radio broadcasts about the forced marriages and mutilations.”
“I can vouch for that.” Monica grimaced, lifting her arm, the pale stump a blaring testament to the brutality.
“Jesus. You’re lucky to be alive.” Lydia whispered.
“I am, my friend, Mike, a fellow doctor, offered to amputate my hand. The major wanted to chop it off, then and there. Mike offered up himself as a slave to the major, his own personal physician. After Mike operated on my hand, he helped me escape, so I wouldn’t be sent to the troops for mass rape. I owe him my life, and he’s dead, I’m sure.”
“I am so sorry, Monica.” Yuma said softly and the others nodded.
“I just wish our government could have gone in there to fight, instead of bombing it all to hell.” Monica said, her eyes tearing up. Lydia reached over and held her hand. Monroe was silent, and his face was carved deeply with shared grief.
“What will you do, Monica?” Phoenix asked.
“I’m heading to a farm, in Kellogg, I have been traveling. Going from one safehouse to another. Mr. Pope’s was my last safehouse, before reaching Kellogg. A couple, Holt and Teresa set it up for me to stay with Holt’s brother, Joe.”
“Do you know the callsign?” Monroe asked, sitting forward.
“Sure, its E6RM, he goes by Squirrelly.” Monica said.
“I got word that you were on your way, so I contacted Squirrelly, as a possible next safehouse. I didn’t know how far you were going and Louis gave your approximate arrival. We were relaying you along. I’ve been trying to contact Squirrelly, or rather Joe, since yesterday. I’ve gotten no answer.” Monroe said nervously.
“Could he have a problem with his gear?” Phoenix asked.
“Could, with this rain too, I flipped through a few frequencies, but couldn’t raise him. You know his address, Monica?”
“Yes, Holt gave it to me. I’ll go there tomorrow, should just take a day or two to get there.”
“We can take you. You shouldn’t walk.” Yuma said and he looked at Phoenix, who nodded his head.
“It might take a bit of driving to get around, but we’re headed that way anyway. You’re also welcome to come with us Monica. I know Jael will be happy to have you.” Phoenix said and Lydia nodded.
“Yes, please, come with us. There is plenty of room. Having another woman would be wonderful and having a doctor would be good too, especially for Demi.” Lydia said, smiling and squeezing Monica’s hand.
“I’m not sure what kind of doctor I can be, one handed. I would want to stop by Joe’s home, so they know I’m safe and they can tell Holt. Thank you, thank you so much for inviting me.” Monica said, her voice breaking.
“Monica, your mind holds the knowledge, we can all help to be a single hand.” Yuma said.
It was near dawn, though the sky was dark as soot. Monica turned over, she and Lydia shared a bed in the spare bedroom. There were boxes and bags crowed into the room, but the sheets were clean and there were no leaks in the ceiling. She heard the soft sigh of Demi, who was sleeping on a pallet on the floor. Monroe’s snores in the next room vibrated the walls. She heard him cough, and then was quiet. The other men were sleeping in the living room. She could hear the wind rattling the windows and the siding. She also heard the tentative songs of the morning birds.
She was amazed at the turn of events. She had two choices of homes offered. She was coming to like these people. They seemed kind and sincere. She didn’t think they were homicidal maniacs; she’d already met several since Seattle. Earlier in the evening, she and Lydia had talked in the bed. It was like a sleep over, like when she’d been a teen. Lydia told her of the farm, Miles, Jael, Julian and Tisk family. With a veterinarian handy, actually two, father and son, they didn’t need her, but they had wanted her to come and that made her smile.
It sounded wonderful there, bar the violence, which was everywhere. It was nice to have a choice, when all choices had been taken from her. A smile played across her lips; Monroe had also offered her a place to say. Their kindness filled her with hope. All was lost to the west, but perhaps, she could find sanctuary and peace on the tiny farm in Montana. There was no certainty that the Chinese and Russians would be expelled and a war might rage on. She wanted far away from that.
Ω
The jeep bumped and shimmied over the uneven ground. They were entering Kellogg and Phoenix checked the paper again. They were on a dirt road and the ruts were bad since the rain. It had taken them over nine hours to drive, and they were all exhausted. He hoped they could spend the night at the place, before heading home. Monica was in the front seat with him, looking out the window. He saw the turn and swung the jeep and bounced.
“Sorry, this road is really bad.” He called to the passengers in the back seat. He grinned when Yuma reset his hat and looked over at Lydia, who was looking at Yuma, her eyes triangle in humor. He almost laughed out when he remembered Yuma this morning, before they left Monroe’s home. He had asked if Monroe had a hat brush, so he could clean up his hat. Monroe had eyed Yuma and his Stetson and Monroe had placed a finger over his long lip. Phoenix thought it was because he didn’t want to laugh at Yuma’s earnest face. He’d apologized for not having one. Yuma had walked out of the house, rubbing the hat on his forearm.
“He loves that hat, doesn’t he?” Monica had whispered and Phoenix had sniggered and nodded. They had stopped for lunch and to change Demi’s diaper. It was by a fast-moving stream and Lydia was able to clean the dirty diaper. The jeep had begun to get a little closed in with the smell of dirty diapers. Lydia had cleaned them all, and had squeezed them out and placed them in a plastic bag. They weren’t sterile, but they were as clean as they were going to get with a bar of soap and water. They planned to build a fire and dry them, once they made camp. Phoenix would look for another structure, so they could. It was late afternoon and after notifying Joe of Monica’s decision to stay with them at the farm, they would either stay with Joe or find a place to camp for the night. Maybe Joe would let them sleep in his barn, if he had one?
Phoenix pulled off on another dirt road and began to slow down, they were a mile from the destination, but ahead, there was smoke, and a blackened structure.
“You don’t think that’s Joe’s, do you?” Monica asked nervously, leaning forward and resting her hand on the cold dashboard.
“God, I hope not. Maybe that was why Monroe couldn’t reach him?” Phoenix wondered.
“It looks like the place was burned to the ground.” Lydia whispered, leaning forward.
“Go carefully.” Yuma warned, pulling the AR15 around and checked it.
“Roll down your window, see if you ca
n hear anything.” Lydia suggested. Phoenix complied and Monica did as well. They listened but heard nothing. There were birds calling, but otherwise, it was quiet. Phoenix pulled closer, slowing down to a crawl. He could see no movement around the blackened structure. He pulled into the driveway, and looked around.
“Over there, a body.” Monica pointed. Someone lay face down, and Phoenix stopped the jeep. He got out, bringing his AR around. He was glad they had two of them. Yuma crawled out.
“Stay in the jeep Lydia, but keep your weapon handy.” Phoenix said and she nodded, her face pale with fear. She held Demi close to her chest. Monica got out and pulled out a .38 revolver. The three moved cautiously, their heads on a swivel. They walked over to the downed body, and it was a man. They could see that he’d been shot. He looked filthy and unkept.
“Over here.” Yuma said in a soft voice, pointing at the ground. It was another body, this time, it was a woman. She too was filthy, her faced lined with deep creases and grimy. Her eyes were opened and a startled look on her face. There was a bullet hole in her forehead. Looking around, Phoenix saw no weapons near the body. They moved closer to the house.
“Here’s another.” Monica said softly, the body curled on its side, the dead man clutching his gut, his face frozen in lethal pain.
Carefully placing their steps, they climbed up into the structure. Phoenix stopped, causing Monica and Yuma to stop as well. He pointed to a charred figure, curled up, its hands raised, as though it were still fighting. He couldn’t tell if it were a man or a woman. He swallowed hard. He’d seen enough, and he turned, walking quickly back to the jeep. Monica and Yuma followed close behind. Yuma crawled into the jeep; the color washed from his face. Monica was also pale and when he got in, Phoenix pulled around and left the tragedy behind.
No one spoke for a long time. It seemed there had been some kind of fight for the property and when the assholes couldn’t get in, they set the place on fire, burning all those within, to death. He shivered and wiped at his nose. The smell of it was almost the same as on the plane and the memory of the man, fused to his seat came to mind. He shook his head, trying to rid it from his mind. He had to slow down, the jeep bouncing and rocking. He took a deep breath to clear his nose and to slow his heart rate. He looked in the mirror and saw that Yuma had taken off his hat and was staring out the window. His eyes met Lydia and he shook his head slightly. She sighed heavily.
