Down the Hole

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Down the Hole Page 28

by Sally Six


  It didn’t take long to get to the new bridge a few miles out of Riggins. As Brian remembered after you crossed the bridge, you were in the Pacific Time Zone. Like that mattered anymore at least not for the time being.

  The homes sitting up on the mountainsides looked deserted, but that could be deceiving. He figured if they didn’t look too close maybe the people who might be hiding inside would pay them no mind.

  Now the gradual climb would begin back up out of the river valley. It didn’t get to bad for quite a few miles, but you could tell you were riding up hill. They passed the roadside fruit stand, a few ranches along the road and saw they still had cattle grazing in the fields.

  A roadside bathroom stop was ahead on the left. They all decided to make the stop. There weren’t any more after this point. Even these outhouse type bathrooms were a luxury. Much nicer than behind a bush.

  The small break did the children some good. The climb was going to get tiring and they would need quite a few breaks. They were headed up and Henry saw the sign for the Hoots Café and Gas Station up a few feet on the left. He was riding on the left of Barb and knew he needed to keep a sharp eye out for trouble. Brian rode up close to him and noticed Henry was concentrating on the entrance to Hoots.

  “Good idea keeping a lookout on that place Henry. You never know if the people stranded there stayed or not. I’ll tell everyone quietly to speed up as much as Gil can go so we can get past here as quickly as possible.”

  Brian then veered off to ask the others to speed it up so they could get past the entrance to Hoots quickly. Speeding up saved them from becoming more people under Eddy Rightworth’s control. As at this moment, there was a world of hurt going on in the café part of the gas station.

  * * *

  It had been over two weeks and the place was about out of food. The eleven people in the café had pretty well gone through most of it. There had been fourteen people when this started. A fight had broken out over one of the women, the young 20-year-old waitress. Now there were twelve. Neither of the two men who had fought got the woman. They had gone after each other with knives and neither one had survived. The six foot two inch bull of a man named Eddy ended up with her. He had just stood and watched and let nature take its course. So all that was left was the cook, Lenny, Madelyn, the waitress, Bruce from the gas station, Mick, the day manager, Eddy of course, Eddy’s man Toad, Ted and Betty Getty both in their 60’s and four fishermen headed for a good time of salmon fishing. The four fishermen had gone down and fished with a guard on them of course. They had caught some fish to help supplement the cafe food, but it seemed that they weren’t very good fishermen. They were all single men and had traveled down from Spokane, Washington. They didn’t think there was a way in Hades that they could walk home so they had held up here until everything blew over. Well now it looked like they should have at least tried. Things were going from bad to worse. Eddy stood in front of his people with a Glock 17 stuck in his pants. He had a 12 gauge shotgun in his hands. Yes, he had put himself in charge. He felt that he was a natural born leader and there was mutiny in the ranks.

  “Outside all of you.” He bellowed. “Go on outside right now.”

  They huddled together and tried to get out the door, but had to un-huddle so at least two could go out at a time.

  “Idiots,” yelled Eddy. “No wonder we’re in such bad shape.”

  “We need some new blood. Someone with more brains than you all have.”

  He didn’t realize that he could be put in that same category.

  “We’re going to walk over to the entrance. It’s time we looked over any close homes and see what we can appropriate for the common good, ours.”

  Eddy had been watching his people try to get out the door of the café and hadn’t noticed the group of riders go past. Then by the time the Eddy’s folk had gotten to the entrance, the bike riders were up the hill and around the road that curved to the right.

  * * *

  Brian hadn’t known why he had gotten such a bad feeling about Hoots. He just sort of had gotten the creeps the closer they came to the place.

  “Okay, we can slow down. Gil’s about pooped I see anyway.” Brian grinned at Gil. “You did a great job Gil.”

  Gil smiled over at Brian. That praise had given him a big boost.

  “I hope all of you didn’t think that I was being silly about speeding past Hoots. It just didn’t feel right.”

  Beulah looked over at her son. “Brian don’t you ever feel bad or think it’s silly when you think something is important for us to do. You saved my life and have gotten us all where we are now. I for one will take all your recommendations to heart my dear.”

  Brian blushed at his mom’s statement and then he heard. “We all second that you know Brian.” Barb said. “So far you haven’t led us wrong.”

  From Lysbeth. “I haven’t been with you very long, but I put my two cents in that too. I’ll do whatever you feel we need to.”

  Brian got even redder if that was possible and peddled on.

  They stood beside their bikes at the top of the hill that led down the steep drop down to the bridge and U.S. Route 95. They continued to look up at the very steep Grade on the other side. Then they looked down into the river valley where the little town of White Bird was. They could see the old White Bird Grade snaking its way up the mountainside to the right from the valley out of White Bird.

  Brian stood by his bike looking at the others. He knew which way they needed to go.

  “Yes,” he said. “I know which way is going to be the easiest, but we will have to go through White Bird. Three things, one it should take all of two minutes to get through the town. Two is we have to go through the town, one good thing one bad. Three we will have to go down to go up again.”

  Everyone was looking up U.S. Route 95 then back down to the valley. Riding down would mean adding a few more miles. It would most likely take half the time to go up the old road as it would the newer one.

  Beulah said. “Well if it was just us adults, I would say go for the high road. Since we’re not, we go with Brian as we should for the children’s sake and take the low road.”

  All the way down the hill as they coasted Beulah sang. “You take the high road and I’ll take the low road. I’ll get to Scotland before ya.”

  Brian didn’t even know his mom knew a song like that. He had never heard her sing anything before. Hum yes, sing no. They coasted into White Bird and back out less than two minutes later. There was not a soul in sight. They had been seen, but those that did see them were too afraid to be seen themselves.

  Three hours later they were at the top of the grade taking a nice long 15-minute break. Barb had her windup clock out again so they didn’t stay here too long. They would find a place to camp on the way down the mountain on the way to Grangeville, but before they left the safety of the forest. After you got to the bottom of the mountain and before you got to Grangeville you were back on the plains for miles and miles.

  Tomorrow after a 30-minute ride, they would be at the turn off onto the back road so they didn’t have to go into Grangeville at all. They would cut the corner. That would take a few miles from their trip at least.

  They were all very tired when they settled in for the evening. They were behind an old building about three quarters of the way down the other side of the mountain. Brian thought they were about a mile from the home that was on the right almost at the bottom of this hill. They had trees and bushes around them, but they were too tired for a hot dinner so they just opened up some MRE’s for dinner. Poor little Gil was asleep before he even finished his. First thing that they had done was set up the beds for the kids in a couple of small tents that had been stashed in the cart.

  Barb came over and relieved Gil of the rest of his meal as he slept sitting up Indian style. She picked him up and slipped him into the tent and his sleeping bag. It was always fun on your knees trying to get a limp child into a sleeping bag. A few minutes later all but Brian and B
arb were sacked out. They had first watch.

  Chapter 19

  Cadillac Café

  Morning came clear and cold. There was a glistening sheen of frost on their tents, sleeping bags, tarps and the surrounding grass and leaves. Beulah and Lysbeth began to wake the sleepers. Brian said, “I’m awake,” as his mom reached down to wake him. Funny on how once you get used to getting up early that you wake up about that time every morning.

  Brian could hardly believe that he had become such an early riser. It wasn’t much past sunrise now. It was funny also to have his mom now bending over to wake him at the crack of dawn when it wasn’t that long ago, mere days in fact that he was trying to get her up.

  In fact, she was looking at him rather strangely. “Brian you smile more now than I think you ever have since you were a small boy. What’s up anyway with that?”

  “I don’t know Mom? I just feel like it is all.” He climbed out of his sleeping bag and began to roll it up and then the tarp that was around it.

  Another thing that he was smiling about as it rolled through his mind was at the end of this day it should find them near Lewiston or nearly so. They would have to skim the edges of a few small towns, but hopefully that would go the same as it had been.

  Beulah and Barb began warming some water for a hot breakfast. Well if you consider instant oatmeal breakfast these days you didn’t turn even that down. It tasted darn right good on a cold morning. Apple cinnamon oatmeal and instant milk, they were living high on the hog all right. Better than some were getting about now even with rationing as people began to run out of food.

  Others like the people before and at Riggins who were banding together to get by the best they could and planning for winter and the next year. Or like in Boise where the Gang leaders were tearing through their own territories and the next ones taking each other out and ever expanding like feudal lords. They were making bigger and bigger slave and serf kingdoms where murder, looting and worse was the name of the day.

  Brian shuddered when he thought of it. They could have been caught up in that.

  They splashed water on a couple washcloths, faces rinsed off, had food in their bellies and with everything packed up again, they were off.

  As they rode the rest of the way down the mountain, Brian could see for miles across the land. It didn’t look any different now than when they came up to visit his grandparents by car. Maybe the air smelled a bit better. Maybe it was how clear it was this morning, but it wasn’t bad up here anyway with the fresh mountain air. He had always hated going back down to where they lived in Mountain Home to all of the smells. Then you get used to it and don’t notice it again until you leave it and come back.

  The cut off was coming up. There was no one else in sight, but it was still early so no other bikes or horseback riders were out. Another 45 minutes and they were coming up to the railroad crossing just before you come back to State Highway 95. It still seemed so strange to not see cars and trucks coming and going. They made the turn left back onto U.S. 95 and headed for Winchester Grade, but first two small towns to skim past. At least they didn’t have to go through them. Ferdinand was normally a sleepy tiny town so he didn’t really expect any trouble there. He kept an ongoing prayer for that anyway as he rode down the highway.

  Cottonwood came and went with no problem. These were farming and ranching communities with hard working people that lived in the area. Brian didn’t think they would have trouble with going by them, but you really never know. The ride was going pretty good up here on this high plain. To the left and right was field after field of wheat, Canola seed called rape and hay fields already harvested, thank goodness. Else it’s back to the old way again. All by horse if the gas run machinery won’t run again. How many farmers still have the horse drawn equipment? Not many I bet. A lot of it is just sitting around as giant lawn ornaments. They buzzed through Ferdinand. No movement there, but even when they went by car he never saw any people so nothing was different.

  Barb looked back at the group. “Hey how about some lunch? I’m famished.”

  “Same here,” said Henry. “I could eat a horse.”

  That brought a laugh from them all. They all concurred. They were all hungry. They pulled over to the side of the road and went into the grass. They decided on a hot lunch of canned ravioli, stew and crackers.

  Brain packed the cans back up after wiping them out with grass the best he could. Henry was looking at him real funny.

  “I have to ask Brain. Why are you saving the cans?”

  “Well Henry as I see it, these will and can be used for many things. If things never get back to the way they were, we will be able to use these for various things around the farm. Cut out the bottoms and hang on fences to help scare away deer. Cut open and flatten them to cover things with the metal. If we just throw them out, they will rust and be good for nothing. As far as carrying them with us now, at least there lighter to carry once they are empty. As far as space goes, we’re not all that far from my grandparents place now so we won’t be hauling them far.”

  Henry looked at Brian with what Brian thought was another shock.

  “I just hadn’t thought about the things we may not be able to get anymore Brian. Just think about all we used that was plastic that can’t be replaced. Wow!”

  “You’ve got that right Henry. Once some things are gone or broken that’s it. There are no replacements.”

  Henry walked back to his bike shaking his head after he helped to police the area. Brian thought he heard Henry mumbling a bit too.

  The afternoon seemed cooler today to Lysbeth. Seemed like this year was much cooler than the past years all across the Northwest. She didn’t know what the rest of the country was like. Even before the news she only seemed fixated on a few things. You didn’t seem to get a good cross section of the news in the paper or on TV and she didn’t know why. It seemed like the real important things were glossed over. Looks like that has taken care of itself now. There won’t be too much news now except for people that had short wave or ham radios if they had been in faraday cages or in shelters and basements. It’s going to be a quiet world now.

  Craigmont, Idaho was coming up soon. Another very small town that they would just go past. It would be on their right.

  Brian told them all. “Be careful now. We’re very close to some housing on the right as the highway is almost in their back yards.”

  As they neared the edges of Craigmont, they heard a few shots and saw smoke start to ascend into the sky, but it was further back about a half a mile in the middle of the town.

  “Looks like it’s another fast ride past. Doesn’t it?” Said Beulah.

  “Sure does.” Brian replied as he looked around. “We’ll keep the kids in the middle the same as last time. Gil you ride that bike just as fast as you can. Can you do that?”

  His big blue eyes looked up into Brian’s face. “I sure can Uncle Brian. I’ll go fast as lightening.”

  “That’s my boy. I bet you will outride all of us.” With that Brian gave the nod and told everyone to get going. They took off and speeded up to Gil’s pace to get passed the town.

  All they needed was two or three minutes. That’s all and they would be out of sight of the town. It wasn’t a long time, but it seemed like an eternity. They could hear gun fire pretty close now and Brian glanced over to see some men running down a street into a couple of the houses and then one of the men went down. Looked like a battle had begun in earnest. All he hoped was that the good guys won. He knew it didn’t always turn out that way.

  Karen had started to whimper behind him. “Karen, it’s okay sweet heart. We will be passed here in a few seconds. Just take deep breaths for Uncle Brian. Why don’t you sing me a song?”

  Karen hiccupped a couple of times and began to sing, “If I Was A Mocking Bird.” Brian thought it was an awful hard song for a little one, but she seemed to know it well.

  As they got further down the road and away from Craigmont, Brian called for a
slowdown. Then when they were down and over a couple more hills, he called a rest break.

  “Now for my heart to come down out of my throat,” was his thought.

  Henry said. “No one seems to be following us. So I guess we’re in the clear.”

  Henry was taking his job seriously. After 10 minutes, it was back on the road again.

  Not far down the road was the Cadillac Café and gas station. As they came up the small hill before the Café, Brian could see the large pink Cadillac up on the beam well above the store/gas station. Right before it was also a turn off that you could take to some ranches, a few homes, the Park with the lake and another way into Winchester, Idaho. Winchester was nestled in the trees in a more mountainous area and was off the beaten path.

  Things looked okay at the café. There were about six cars there which seemed strange. When you went passed, there usually might be one or two with a pickup being one of them. The place had been for sale for a year now. The owner lived in a newer manufactured home that he had pulled in the back behind the store/café/gas station. It looked like there was a man standing by one of the gas pumps, but Brian couldn’t be for sure from where they were. Something nagged at him. “Something’s not right. We have to stop and make our way around. NOW we have to stop now!”

  It was too late. A man stepped out from behind a tree to the left of the highway and another from behind the gas pump to the left. The one on the right got a nasty grin on his face. “Okay folks off your bikes and walk them to the café.”

 

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