Down the Hole

by Sally Six

  Brian was glad that he had decided to leave boxes of food and water down in the basement. He hauled a couple upstairs and quickly had his mom help put the food in the cupboards to make it look like no one had taken anything out. But like many others they just didn’t keep much on hand. He sure hoped it worked. The other things that he had them put in the furnace room where they would be. They got a few clothes, warm ones, but he wouldn’t let his mom take what she wanted. They would have the sleeping bags to keep them warm. It had to look like no one had been here in a day or two, but left their stuff like they were coming back. She started to pick up her makeup.

  “No Mom leave your makeup here. You won’t need it and it makes things look better.”

  “But I can’t go without makeup Brian. What if your father comes home? You know how he hates me going without makeup.”

  “Listen Mom. You look just great without that stuff and right now leaving it here could save our lives. So just leave it. Dad needs to be understanding sometimes.”

  He did have her take most of her gold and good jewelry, but left a few items of worth to put off the scent to look for more. After he was certain everything was just right, he herded his mother down to the furnace room. He remembered to grab a few books and an empty five gallon bucket. It was used to put soap and water in to wash cars. He took garbage bags too and ties. He would have to improvise a blanket or something for a bit of privacy and use that for their bathroom. Brian sure hoped they would have time to bunker down before they also had their home entered. He got Beulah inside the room and looked around for something to kind of put up against the furnace room door to disguise it. There back in the corner was his old twin bed. He began to drag the old box springs over, then the mattress, head board and so on. He had to lean them up against the door and then be able to squeeze in without knocking anything over. He managed to get in the furnace room without knocking anything about and let out a deep breath. Now to wait this all out.

  After a couple of hours, his mom was beginning to get restless and wanted to go upstairs.

  “I don’t like it in here Brian. It’s dusty and I want to go take a nap in my own bed. The floor is just too hard.” She was telling him.

  That’s when they heard a dull bang. A few minutes later there was a crash. They knew it had to be their front door. Then footsteps sounded above them in the living room. Beulah shut up and started to silently cry. Brian moved over to her and put his arms around her. He hoped that would help keep her from getting hysterical.

  “Mom, we have to be quiet as possible from here on out until we are sure they have left and gone on to the next house. Even after that we will have to keep sounds down and not light any candles or the lantern until they have left our neighborhood. I will have to find something to tape over the windows so no light will shine through at night even after that.”

  They heard a lot of banging, a few crashes and then some hollering. Brian heard someone come down the basement steps swearing. They heard things being thrown around in the basement, but no one moved the twin bed leaning against the door to the furnace room. After a while of swearing and crashes, whoever it was left the basement. Brian heard them stomp back up the stairs. Beulah had fallen asleep. He didn’t know how she could at a time like this, but that helped him immensely. He continued to hear footsteps for a while and then quiet. His mom had awakened for a few hours and he had convinced her to read. He would too. The day waned on.

  Brian woke with a start. He lit a candle that he had close by and looked toward where his mom had been the last thing he knew. She wasn’t there.

  “No mom.” He said out loud

  The door was closed so she hadn’t had any problems getting out which should have woken him up. He must have really been out deep. He got the door opened enough to get through. He didn’t see her in the main basement area. He did notice it was light now. He continued up the stairs as quietly as possible. The kitchen door to the basement was open. He peeked around the doorframe. No one was visible, not even his mom, but the kitchen was a big mess. Dishes were broken all over the floor. He did notice the cupboards were open and some of the doors broken off. Whoever they were did take the food, but a few cans still sat there so they took only what they liked. Brian continued on into the dining room. The chandelier was smashed and all the lights, chairs and table were in a splintered heap. He could see into the living room. No one seemed to be in there either. He stepped around and through the glass and wood all over the floor as best he could.

  Brian still neither saw nor heard his mother. She had to have come this way. He tried to walk as quiet as possible and made it through the living room and to the hallway where the family room and the bathroom were. After looking in both places, he wondered if the bad guys had noticed the filled bathtub. He hadn’t thought about that one.

  Nothing he could do about it now. The house was a mess. He then turned and made his way upstairs to the bedrooms. The family pictures were all smashed that were along the stairway on the wall. So he crunched on glass as he went up the stairs. “Slow and steady,” he thought.

  The stupid thing was he forgot to take the old rifle downstairs with him. Brian wondered if it was still on the couch. He turned around and went back down the stairs. He walked around the sofa and saw a piece of dark wood sticking out from under the sofa. He bent over and grabbed the butt of the rifle. How in the world did the bad guys miss this? His guess was that somehow it had been under the sofa. They must not have been looking in the living room for things very hard. That’s all he could think. “Well that’s all the better for us.” He kept the rifle in hand and headed back upstairs to see if he could find his mother. He found her all right. She was curled up in the middle of her king sized bed sound asleep. There were broken perfume bottles, mirrors, clothes all over, her jewelry boxes smashed and the rest of the jewelry was missing. But there she was in her own bed. Brian leaned against the frame of the door and slide down it to sit on the floor with relief spilling through his body. He knew she was a bit flaky at times, but she was all he had.

  The thoughts went through his brain. “We can’t stay here. Who knows when they or someone else will be through here again? We have to get out. I need to stop being dumb. It could cost us our lives. All this preparation that we’re doing and we can’t do a thing with it. We will have only what we can take with us. We will have to see if we can get to Grandpa and Grandma’s house.” He began planning right then and there.

  An hour later his mom was still asleep, but he was on his way to the garage for other things. He went through the kitchen so he wouldn’t have to step outside and be seen by anyone. There hanging on the ceiling were the three bikes, all 27 speeds. His mom had gotten them a couple years ago so they could have something to do together as a family, help them to stay in shape and get in better heath. Of course his dad didn’t think much of that. Oh he went a couple of times, but soon it was just Brian and his mom. Then that even came to a halt after another half a dozen rides.

  Brian got his and his mom’s bikes down. He oiled and tightened for the next 45 minutes to make sure they were in good shape. He wondered what his mom was going to think of this idea. He hoped that he wouldn’t have to fight with her too much over it. So while she slept, he went about readying them for the trip northwest. He hauled things back up from the furnace room. He packed the backpacks as best he could with clothes, one pair of extra sturdy shoes, both his moms and his, some camping gear, small tent, sleeping bags, tarps, MRE’s, other foods, powdered juices, pans and metal cups, silverware, matches, a canteen and water bottles tied onto the bikes. Some of it folded over the back on each bike. He sure wished that he had some of those bike saddlebags. At that moment he had a very bright idea. Now if he could find it. He headed back into the house and down to the basement. Yes, there it was in a corner, his old red wagon. He hauled it out, then washed it up and made sure the bolts were tight and oiled the wheels. Another thing that he thought. “I need to take some tools to fix this and the
bikes if need be.”

  The wagon filled to brimming and more, he tied a small tarp over it. He then tied it to his bike the best that he could. He didn’t know how wobbly this was going to be, but it would have to do until they could find something better. Maybe if they went by a bike shop or something, they would have a regular bike wagon that he could get or something. Brian had found all the 22 bullets his dad had. It was a box of 500, not too shabby. He hoped it was enough for whatever they would need them for. He knew the rifle already had a full clip, but that only held 6 bullets. He put the hunting knife on his belt that his grandpa had given him for his twelfth birthday. Mom wouldn’t let him wear it so he always saved it for when he went to his grandparents in the summer.

  Brian knew they had to get out of here as soon as possible. He had a feeling in his bones. Hard to believe as he looked at the sun that it could even be noon yet. He went upstairs to wake his mom, have them eat, dress warm and talk her into leaving.

  He stood beside the bed for a few minutes. Minutes that he knew they really didn’t have. He was trying to think how best to convince her that they needed to leave. Maybe the break in would help do that for him.

  “Mom wake up,” he said as he shook her by the shoulder. “Mom please wake up.”

  Beulah opened her eyes to her son standing beside her.

  “Why son what is it? What’s the problem? Is your dad home? Do I need to fix my face?”

  “No Mom, Dad still isn’t home. I don’t think he is coming home or he would have been here already. I need you to get up. We need to have some lunch and I need to talk to you about something.”

  “Brian is such a good son. I guess I am hungry.” She got up and readied herself to go downstairs and get some lunch with her son. A few minutes later it dawned on her what had happened last night. She could hardly make it down the stairs. She saw the mess that her home was in and began to bemoan its condition.

  Brian heard her. He had been in the kitchen getting them some sandwiches. He had pushed some mess off the counter to clear a place. He would save the fuel that they were bringing for the small scout camp stove. Brian went out to the living room and brought her back to the kitchen through the smashed furniture and all. His mom stopped right then and there in the dining room and said. “We need to start cleaning this up. We can’t live with the house like this.”

  “We’re not going to worry about it Mom. It will just have to stay like this. We’re going to eat some lunch right now and as we do I am going to tell you what we need to do. You’re not going to say anything until I am done explaining, okay?”

  Beulah shook her head all right. They went in to eat. As they ate, he told her what they were going to do and why.

  What was funny was Brian thought he would have a big fight on his hands convincing her that they had to leave. In the end, he didn’t at all. Last night had scared her enough that she didn’t put up much of a fuss at all.

  She said. “Lee would know where we went so that is okay.”

  Just in case they would leave a note telling Lee where they were headed. Brian thought that was okay. Anyone reading the note wouldn’t know where his grandparents were anyway. An hour later with booted, gloved, good coats on, hats and long johns, they were on their way down the road as fast as the little red wagon would allow them to go.

  Chapter 15

  Heartache

  Mile after mile Brian noticed there were a lot of people on bicycles. Most were headed out of the city like him and his mother. The wagon didn’t slow him as much as he thought it would. It was Beulah not the wagon that kept them from making better time. It took them way too long to get out of the city. Every mile made his teeth go on edge with the shots, screams and chaos. They kept to the outer roads as much as possible. Most of the time they went through housing divisions.

  When they finally reached the city limits, he allowed his mom to take a break. He didn’t feel too good about that either. All he had heard for the last three miles was, Brian we have to stop and how tired she was.

  He had the 22 slung over his right shoulder. While they rested from riding, he practiced getting it off his shoulder into his hands as quickly as possible. Beulah watched him do this with this very strange expression on her face. Brian thought she would say something but she never did. She just continued to watch. Then he took out the map of Idaho that he had tucked in his back pocket. It was in a large baggie. He didn’t want it getting wet for any reason.

  The problem would be Boise. He planned out how they would go around as best they could. After that they could take Route 84 northwest up into Oregon then into Washington or Route 55 north up through the mountains to Grangeville and then Route 95 on into Lewiston, Idaho. His mind was reeling. Which road would be safest for him and his mom? Highway 55 would be steep mountain riding. If Mom was having problems here, just think what that would do. On the other hand, it would have plenty of places to camp out of sight of the road. They could also run into the woods if necessary.

  After 10 minutes he said. “Long enough Mom. We need to get as far as we can before dark. Then before it gets too dark, we have to find a place to camp for the night where we won’t be seen, hopefully.”

  His decision was made. He was committed to it. They were going the hard way. “Route 55 here we come.”

  Brian had decided to take Route 90 from Mountain Home and avoid the freeway. He could just imagine all the cars on Route 84 and the mess it must be. He also thought most won’t be sitting in or by their cars anymore. It had been too many days now. There were a few cars here on Route 90, but it wasn’t too bad. Most that took Route 90 weren’t long distance travelers so it should be pretty clear of people. At least, he hoped so. That thought proved out to be not too far off. More than he thought, but no people were walking along the road. There were just a few people on bikes like them.

  It was 27 miles to Boise give or take a few. The town had grown leaps and bounds in the last few years. Even a kid like Brian could see the City getting larger and larger. Well that had come to a screeching halt.

  Brian noticed a few people looking out of the house windows at them as they rode past, but no one tried to stop them and take their bikes. How long can their luck hold out?

  They camped for the night before they hit Boise. It wasn’t much. They were behind some bushes so no fire tonight. They ate two of MRE’s which weren’t too bad at all when you were hungry. He wanted to be up and most of the way through Boise before light. He hoped his mom could handle riding and walking the bikes in the dark. He didn’t think they had any other choice.

  Brian opened his eyes. The stars were bright and the air was crisp and cold. His mom lay next to him snoring away. He figured it had to be at least 3 AM or around there. Time to get up and get going.

  “Mom, mom you need to get up now.” He said in a quiet voice.

  He didn’t think there was anyone else around at this time of the morning, but he didn’t want to take any chances either.

  “Mom, come on we have to get going,” he continued. “Get up Mom.”

  She slowly opened her eyes. “It’s still dark out Brian. Just a few more hours of sleep please,” she begged.

  “Afraid not Mom. We have to go now so that we can get around Boise without being seen.”

  “Oh Brian, why in the world is that so important? Who would bother us anyway? No one wants what we have.” Beulah complained.

  Brian was starting to get miffed. He was rolling up his sleeping bag and then bent down, unzipped hers and threw the sleeping bag open.

  “Brian,” she yelled. “What do you think you’re doing young man?”

  “Get out and up now Mom or I will roll you out of that bag. I mean it. You’re also going to have to learn to keep your voice down as we’re traveling. Who knows who or what you may attract.”

  “Well I’m awake now. So I might as well get up. Aren’t you getting just a bit bossy Brian?”

  “No I’m not Mom. We have a long way to go and this could be a ve
ry dangerous trip for us. Another thing, yes we do have things other people may want. Our bikes for one or food, this gun and ammunition and anything valuable we happen to have. Even you Mom.”

  That stopped her in her tracks. “I hadn’t thought of any of that Brian. I’m sorry. I just can’t seem to get this all straight. It seems so unreal. Do you really think people would attack us for what we have?”

  “For what we have and don’t have, Mom. Some would be mad just because we don’t have what they want.”

  They were quiet as they finished picking up camp and getting Beulah’s bag rolled and stored. Soon they were on their way. It was still dark as they made their way down Route 55 toward Horseshoe Bend. They had to get through Horseshoe Bend today to matter what.

  There was nothing but scrub brush and steep hills between here and there. Closer to Horseshoe Bend there were a few homes on the mountains sides now, but way off the road. So he hoped that would not present a problem for them. They had to go through Horseshoe Bend, but the town was only about a mile long.

  If Brian had been more experienced, he would have noticed they were being watched. Someone had picked up their trail when they were three quarters of the way out of Boise. Going around the city as much as possible had helped, but it was light before they were out of town.

  * * *

  In one of the new housing developments by the highway a cunning set of eyes had spotted them. His crew had already killed or enslaved everyone in this area that hadn’t fled as they managed to limp home when everything shut down. What a surprise they had in store for them when they got a few steps into the housing development. This man gazed out the window seeing something he craved, control of a kingdom.

  His name was Jim Sawyer. He was called Big Jim. He fit his name to a tee. He was six foot four inches tall in his stocking feet and weighed 290 pounds. Weightlifting had made him what he was today size wise. A black heart made him what he was as a semi human being. He had blond hair and blue eyes. He would have been what most women would call good looking except for when you looked into his eyes. They were cold eyes. When Big Jim saw the people going past on the bikes, he yelled for Weasel and Scat.