by A. American
“Jus’ like you.” Edith popped over her shoulder. He stopped in the door, looked at me, and shook his head.
I had never seen the back of the house in the light. There was a nice barn; off to the left side was a huge woodpile. The old tractor sat beside it in the barn, a workbench running along the length of the barn on the other side. There was a large garden plot. Collards were coming up along with other cold weather crops. These folks would do just fine.
James took a can of starting fluid off the workbench; turning to the tractor, he sprayed a quick shot into the air cleaner on the old tractor. He set the can down and adjusted the choke and hit the starter. It rumbled for a couple of turns and then caught and started, banging hard with the ether in the cylinders. Thick white smoke belched from the exhaust stack with every chug of the engine. While the tractor was warming up, James went into a door on the barn and came back with a couple of shovels and tossed ’em into the bucket with a clang.
“I’ll meet you round front. We’ll load him up, then take the other’n out the back door.” I nodded to him and headed over to the house.
Walking between the houses, I heard the tractor throttle up and then go into gear, and with a moan, it was moving. I was standing there, looking at the body when he came around from the far side of his house and pulled up, dropping the bucket down and tilting it back slightly. Climbing down off the tractor, he looked down. “Hell of a thing. A dead man layin’ in the front yard all night an’ no one comes ’round. Let’s get this business over with,” he said as he reached down.
I stepped up to Thomas’s shoulders; reaching down I grabbed the coat. James grabbed the cold, stiff legs. Rigor had set in; with the cold, he was stiff as a board. We hefted him up and tossed the body in the bucket. It lay in the bucket at an awkward angle; it didn’t look real. James climbed up on the tractor, and I went into the house and opened the back door. While he was pulling around back, I rolled Lonnie up in the blanket. Grabbing the ends of it, I pulled him across the old knotty pine floors to the back door. James already had the bucket raised; I slid the bundle across the porch and dropped the end I had in the bucket then grabbed the other end and flipped the stiff body on top of the other.
“Foller me,” James called out as he backed the tractor up, turned it around, and headed off into the woods behind the houses. He drove down a trail that was obviously well traveled. Pulling off the trail into the pines, he stopped at a little clearing with a small depression in it. It was about eighteen inches lower than the surrounding area. He unceremoniously dumped the load off to the side of the depression. Lonnie rolled out of the blanket, the bag still around his head.
Using the bucket, he scooped out as much earth as he could get. When he was done, the hole was another three and a half feet deeper. Above the rumble of the tractor, “I think this’ll be deep enough. I’ll pile some hunks of concrete from a pile over yonder on top of it.” He jutted his thumb over his shoulder.
After climbing off the tractor, James and I heaved the bodies into the hole. Afterward, we stood there for several long seconds looking down, the tractor idling in the background. He climbed back on the tractor and slowly pushed the cold earth on top of the bodies, completely covering them, and removing them from the light. At this moment, what I had done hit me. I killed these two men. Could I have done something differently? I didn’t even warn them; I ambushed both of ’em. I took their lives without warning and, even more bothersome, at the time without remorse. I thought of Gol’ Dolla; I killed him too. Although that was different; he was a clear danger to me, personally. Then the image of Lonnie in front of Mandy’s naked body and what he was doing flashed into my mind. No, he wasn’t a danger to me, but he damn sure was to her. Anyone would have to agree with that. No, it was right. What I did was right.
James drove the tractor back to the barn, and I walked slowly back to the house, my fists shoved into the pockets of the coat. I started to think about the road, the long road I had to take. I hoped, I prayed, it got easier. But in my mind’s eye, I could see the road stretching out in front of me off to the horizon—a horizon consumed with black, angry clouds; lightning flashed in them. Not thunderbolts, just flashes followed by low rumbling thunder. I could feel it in my chest now, just thinking about it. The clouds blocked everything but the road that disappeared into it.
I met James back at the barn. He shut down the tractor and climbed off. He looked at me, his lips were pressed hard together, and he just gave his head a slight nod. I nodded back, dropping my head as I did. “Don’t worry, son, you did what you had to. It don’t make it any easier; just know you did right, and there’s some people safe ’cause of it.” He put his arm around my shoulders, and we walked in the house.
Miss Edith was still in the kitchen. I wondered if she ever left it. “I packed you some sammiches and a moon pie for lunch.” She leaned against the sink and crossed her arms. “You be careful, Morgan. Them girls are countin’ on you. You gotta get home to ’em no matter what.”
“Yes, ma’am. I aim to. I cannot thank you enough for all you done for me. Your cookin’ has ruined me. Canned beef stew just can’t match it.” I gave her a smile.
“It was nothin’. We was glad to have you. It’s what yer s’pose to do, help folks. Jes like you did,” she replied.
“You need anything? Is there anything we can help you with?” James offered.
“No, sir, I think I got everything I need. I couldn’t carry too much more anyhow. That pack is heavy enough already.”
“Well, if you think of anything, jus’ let me know. When you gonna head out?” he asked.
“Pretty quick. It’s early, and I want to get some miles behind me if I can.” I turned toward the front door. “I’ll come by before I go.”
“That’ll be fine. We’ll be here,” James replied.
I walked out, crossed the yard and went into the house. I started to gather my gear, packed my clean and surprisingly dry clothes, and took down the line. I changed coats and strapped the Carhartt to the back of the pack. I put one pack of smokes and the lighter in my left cargo pocket and the rest of the stuff from the bodies in the pouch with my mess kit. Strapping the shoes to my pack, I was ready. I took the pistol out of my waistband and put it inside the Devildog, strapped it around my waist, and turned the heater off. Grabbing the pack by the top carry handle, I lugged it out the door and went over to James’s. He and Edith saw me coming and met me on the porch.
“Thanks again for all you did. You guys take care of yourself. Mr. James, you should keep that smoke pole of yours handy. I think there’s a storm a brewin’.” I looked out toward the road.
“We’ll be fine. You watch out fer yerself out there.” He stuck out his hand; I took it. We stood there for a minute; he was looking into my eyes—a look can convey a lot. I liked him. We shook, and Miss Edith spoke up.
“You be careful an’ keep yerself warm an’ dry. Rain’s comin’ soon.” She handed me the lunch, and I tucked it under the top flap of the pack.
“Thank you, Ms. Edith. Keep this ole codger in line.” I tilted my head toward James; he chuckled. She reached out and gave me a hug; she was a short woman and had to stand on her toes to do it. She hugged my neck tight, and I wrapped my free arm around her. With a tear in her eye, she said, “Times a waste’n; you git goin’.” She turned and went in the house.
“Take care, Mr. James.” With that I hefted my pack and strapped it up. I turned and walked out to the road, stopping just shy of the asphalt.
“Be careful, son.” I looked back over my shoulder and gave him a nod, then stepped onto the road.
Chapter 3
This stretch of 19 is very rural; very few houses are along here. I suddenly realized that I forgot my walking stick. “Dammit!” I shouted. Oh well, I was not going back. I hadn’t gone real far, maybe half a mile, but going back would add a mile to my trip, and I’d rather be a mile closer to home. It
was a beautiful crisp morning. The sky was clear, and I guessed the temp to be in the mid-forties. The sun was getting up in the sky, and it would warm up nicely. I used the binos to glass the road ahead. Stopping, I took a better look. It looked like there were a couple of people ahead of me; they were headed toward Perry, same way I was going. Dropping the binos, I started off again.
I was actually making good time. Looking at my watch, it was about eleven. I started thinking about the lunch Miss Edith made for me. One more hour, then you can stop for lunch, I thought. It felt like I was making good time. The road was passing quickly and smoothly. In the few houses I passed, I saw the occasional person; they never noticed me or at least didn’t indicate they did. I noticed what looked like a couple of people approaching. Bringing up the binos, I glassed the road. It was a couple, a man and a woman. They were on the same side of the road as I was, headed right for me.
I checked the waist bag to ensure the XD was within easy reach. I covered it with the bandana and kept plodding along. As they got closer and I could see them better, I could tell they didn’t have any packs with them; they were carrying some stuff in their hands, but it appeared they didn’t have much. As we approached each other, I was watching them carefully. The man gave a wave as we got close enough to talk.
“Hi,” he offered.
“Mornin’,” I replied. “Where you guys headed?”
“Trying to get to Bonnifay,” the man replied.
“Do you have any water?” It was the woman. She was holding an empty Evian bottle.
I had checked out these two as they approached. There wasn’t anything remarkable about them. They looked like normal folks, unprepared as hell for what they were in for. The clothes they had on were not suited to being on the road. She had a little fleece blanket over her shoulders; both had on light coats. He was wearing some sort of running shoes, not bad, but she had on some sort of fashionable flats. She was in trouble.
“Is that the only bottle you have?” I asked as I pulled the water bottle from the waist bag.
“Yeah, it doesn’t last long, either,” the man replied.
“Here, let me see your bottle.” I stuck my hand out for the bottle. She handed it over, and I refilled her bottle. “Go ahead and drink as much as you can. Then I’ll refill it,” I said, handing it back. They took turns gulping the water. I was a little leery of these two, but they seemed harmless, so I dropped my pack and pulled out the two-quart canteen. I refilled the bottle again and again; they gulped at it in turns. This time, though, they only managed to down about half of it. I topped it off again and handed it back; then refilled my own water bottle and put it back in the waist bag.
“Thanks for the water. We really needed that.” He was spinning the top back on the bottle.
“No problem. You guys have a long walk ahead of you. You should keep your eyes out for another bottle or two and fill ’em every chance you get,” I said.
“You mean, pick them up off the side of the road?” The girl had a look of disgust on her face.
“Yeah. You got a better idea?” I gave her a what-the-fuck look.
“That’s gross. I’m not drinking from a trash bottle.” She was shaking her head.
“Suit yerself,” I said as I started to lift my pack. “Did you guys come through Perry?”
“Yeah, we were there last night. They have a shelter set up and some food. That’s where we got the bottle. We had two, but one of them must have fallen out of the blanket, and we lost it,” the guy replied.
“Did they have security, police, or anything—any trouble?” I was trying to get as much intel as I could out of ’em.
“The police are around. They have some trucks, a bunch of ATVs an’ stuff like that. There wasn’t any trouble. They were actually really nice. It was nice to sleep on a cot for the night and have something to eat. You would think there would be more help. The authorities are doing a shit job taking care of people. There’s a bunch of people there wanting to go to Tallahassee and places farther. We all asked if they could use one of the trucks to take us, and they wouldn’t. Said they needed it for their town,” he said.
Just from what little these two had said, I had a pretty good feel for them. Sheeple, no idea how to take care of themselves. But what they said made me feel better about going through Perry. I wanted to get through quick.
“Is there a curfew in town?” I was trying to seem casual.
“Yeah, the police have a roadblock set up on both sides of town. During the day, you can walk in, but from seven p.m. to seven a.m., you can’t be on the street. They don’t arrest you, but they do take you to a holding area and keep you there till morning. That’s what happened to us when we first got there. But they gave us food and water, and the fire department had a tent set up for medical stuff,” he said. The girl looked like she was getting impatient.
“They should do that for people. They actually should do more. There are a couple of hotels there, and they wouldn’t let us stay in one. We had to sleep in a tent in the Walmart parking lot. It was awful.” She had that look of disgust on her face again.
“It wasn’t that bad; at least we had something to sleep on,” he countered her.
“Well, good luck to you, guys. I’m going to try and get into town as soon as I can.” I gave them a nod and started to walk off.
Over my shoulder, I heard the woman say, “Ask him.”
In a hesitant voice he said, “Hey, uh, could you give us one of your water bottles? I mean, there’s two of us, and we don’t have enough.” I could tell he was uncomfortable asking and was only doing it because the girl made him. I had a feeling she was going to bring some hell down on the two of them. I decided to take this little issue head on and squash it.
Turning to them, I said, “No, I can’t. I have a long way to go and need everything I have. Sorry.”
“But you have three different ones, and God only knows what else is in that big-ass bag. We don’t have anything. You need to help us!” She was practically screaming at me.
“Let me share a piece of advice with you; things are different now. The only person you can rely on is yourself. You need to take care of you. No one is going to do it for you. And you’re going to come across some people that aren’t as nice as I am. You need to be careful and watch out for your safety. As for helping you, I did. I gave you water to drink and asked nothing in return. Be grateful for what you got.” I tried not to sound threatening, but she made me sick.
“Danny, take it from him. Just take it!” I could not believe this chick. He looked at me. I stared right back at him.
“I really, really suggest you think about that.” He never moved.
“Come on, Kim. Let’s go. Hey, man, thanks for the water.” He stepped over and took her by the arm. “Come on.”
“You’re a pussy,” she said in disgust to him.
“A word of advice, friend, that chick is going to get you killed. Lady, you need to calm down or some seriously bad shit is in store for you.” I turned and started back down the road.
“Fuck you, asshole!” she shouted at me as she turned to walk away.
I didn’t even bother turning around; I just kept walking. I heard her giving that poor bastard hell. I wonder how long till he left her ass on the side of the road.
Walking on, I passed a few others in the opposite lanes heading north. There was no attempt by either party to communicate. Most of them looked pretty haggard. You could tell the whole situation was starting to wear some folks down. That got me thinking about how people would react to this, this sudden plunge into a more primitive lifestyle. Hell, I knew what it was doing to me. I worked in the tech sector, I had a laptop with me at all times, and I am a CrackBerry addict. However, I also enjoy getting away from it all, just not this damn far away!
When things first went dark, I imagined most folks did what I did—just sat down and
waited; some probably took right off looking for help. So the first real wave of people moving would be on the second or maybe the third day postevent. Most would find some place to provide support, in a town somewhere. That would last a couple of days until they figured out that the only way they were getting anywhere was to walk. I was sure this thought wouldn’t occur to them until they had exhausted every possible resource that might be even remotely available to them, or pissed off the locals/host where they were.
That sets them to walking again. Let’s say that part lasted two to three days. So that puts a bunch of folks getting out on the road today and tomorrow, and the numbers only increasing from there. The locals where all these people were would be glad to see them leave, saving valuable resources for the community and probably bringing the tension down a bit. Now in another day or two, and every day after that, others were going to start streaming in, looking for resources. They were going to expect whatever authority was in control to take care of them. After all, when you’re in trouble, all you have to do is call 911, and all the help in the world comes to your aid. I figure in about another five to six days, people on both sides of this equation were going to hit the wall. The locals were going to be fed up with people coming in, looking for a handout, and those on the road were going to start to resent the treatment they get from them. Not that it was either side’s fault. It was not like you could go into Walmart or Winn-Dixie and buy a sack of grub now. What you had was all you were going to have until something changed. Who knew, maybe the gov was already rolling the FEMA cavalry on its way to the rescue. Although I imagined that that cavalry looked more like the First Cav rolling into Iraq than the Red Cross.
After a quick security check to make sure no one was around, I dipped off the road into the bush. There was a screen of trees off the road, then a break about six feet wide, and then a fence and planted pines. I dropped my pack against the fence and walked back out to the road. Staying inside the brush, I checked the road with the binos to make sure no one was around. All clear in both directions. Returning to my pack, I pulled out the lunch from under the top flap, sat down, and leaned back against the pack, which rested against the fence. The sun was warm and bright. I opened the brown paper bag and found two sandwiches wrapped in wax paper, a pack of peanut butter cheese crackers, and a moon pie. That moon pie brought a smile to my face—thanks, Miss Edith.
