All I needed was water, and some semblance of shelter.
As I inspected my new surroundings I slipped the pistol out of my waistband. Though the odds seemed remote that I should run into another hostile survivor in this isolated place, the idea of it still spooked me. What looked like birch trees stood along the perimeter of the rest stop, their tops missing. Nothing green remained. A wind had picked up from the south and I flinched as it rattled the dead branches and carried debris down the highway. I cursed its timing.
I crept up to a sign at the end of the parking lot that read Historic Site, 1814. Site of the James Spring Reservoir, established to aid troops in the war of blah blah blah… I wondered if future generations would plant signs like these in the hot spots of the world created by the Reaper’s evil deed. What I was hoping for with the sign was some indication that a well was near. I spun around and sighed. I had already drained a half dozen bottles of water and needed to replenish them. I had to keep my fluids up. Leif’s dependency on my breast milk made this a tantamount necessity.
Suddenly, a new sound, and I froze. Branches again, snapping, but not in the way the wind would push the tree tops and snap them. This snapping was consistent and deliberate. The forest was alive with the sound. Someone or something was walking through the woods. I strained my eyes against the encroaching twilight but saw nothing. Then a loud crunch came from behind the ravaged information building.
Whatever it was must not have seen us yet. It definitely came from behind the building. I ran back to my bike on the balls of my feet and mounted it once more. I made myself small, leaning over the gas tank, kneeling on the seat, my gun trained on the far side of the building. Amazingly, Leif was still sleeping. I waited for the sound’s creator to emerge.
After several tense seconds, the head of a deer poked around the corner of the ruined building. I was struck by its huge, sad eyes. Its tongue licked at its nose as it stepped out into the parking lot. I remained still, not wanting to scare her. My gun followed her as she moved across the lot and left. The poor thing was emaciated and moved painfully slowly. What had she been living on all this time? Bark? As much as I loved animals, I was no vegetarian and a slab of venison cooking over an open fire flashed in my mind. My mouth automatically watered. I could kill this deer if it was truly life or death. But I had food, I didn’t need to kill for anything yet. The bigger question would be how would I skin it and cut it up? Then a vision of Earl skinning Gareth forced the thought from my mind. I continued to follow the doe with my eyes as it moved into the woods. I watched as she nosed at a short stump. As she did, the right side of the narrow stump gave way and lifted. She did this several times before I realized what was happening. It was no stump- it was a water pump!
I dismounted the bike once more and slowly approached the doe. The sound of liquid hitting the ground was music to my ears. The pump was producing water! I let the deer drink what water had collected in the cement basin and watched it go. Then I ran to the pump, lifted the arm and pushed down. I did this until the water gushed out of the spout. I leaned down, cupped my hands together until they were full of water. Then I drank deeply. It was good. I ran back to the bike, collected my bottles from the bag, and refilled them.
*****
That night Leif and I settled into the information building. I ate a meal of crackers, canned carrots and canned pineapple, drinking all the water I could stomach. I was so happy to have found a water source, I decided to stay near it as long as no one discovered us.
For about three days after arriving at the rest stop I awoke to the deer at the pump, its squeaking handle bringing me out of a restless sleep. I would trudge to the well, Leif in tow, and fill my bottles to capacity. Our days were spent sleeping, eating, and occasionally playing. Leif was able to respond to my smiles now. His toothless grin could entertain me for hours on end. I would sing to him and tell him I loved him. Thank God this little person had come into my life.
On the fourth day, I started to realize what I was doing. Was it unhealthy to be so attached to the pump, to the water? Was it counter-productive? Who knew if I’d ever find a water source like that again? Afraid to relinquish this link to life, I chewed at my fingernails absent-mindedly, spitting the gnarled nails out and examining the finger tips. Was this a problem? Could I make myself leave? My other hand worked a length of my dark, greasy hair around my index finger as I pondered my dilemma.
This couldn’t be Leif’s destiny, to grow up here. What sort of destiny would that be? Yet I was so reluctant to get back on the motorcycle and leave the pump that it made me shake to think about it. If I left I was leaving for good. If I left and we never found water again then what? If I stayed and ran out of food the water would only keep us alive for a few days more. So, what would be my catalyst? What would make me leave?
I felt a deep connection with Joel in that moment, understanding what he must have struggled with during those last few weeks. Making life or death decisions on behalf of others was excruciating.
“A little help,” I pleaded aloud in a whisper, looking up at the grey sky above. The low-lying clouds moved quickly overhead. “Storm,” I said. September storms, they were a force. Joel had loved a storm in life. I had learned to love them too. But alone, vulnerable and with a newborn, a storm meant hardships never before imagined. A rain drop hit my nose and I ran inside, Leif in my arms. There were no doors left on the building to close behind me, and if the rain fell in any direction other than straight down we would be soaked in seconds. The structure was little more than a booth and had lost all of its windows to looters a long time ago. The rain began, falling hard on the metal roof. It fell in sheets within a minute. A wind blew into the building, spraying the rain all over me. I sucked in a breath unconsciously and turned my back on it, trying to keep Leif dry.
“Shit,” I whispered as a chill ran through me. As warm as the morning was, the rain felt wintery cool against my face and hands. Leif began to cry, the shock of the icy rain on his skin a rude awakening.
The wind picked up in intensity, blowing more of the rain into the building. I might as well have been standing in the middle of the parking lot for all the shelter I was getting. I shifted, moving back and forth in the tiny building, hoping for more shelter, but none was to be found. I was dripping wet in minutes. The roar of the rain pounding on the roof was deafening, and a crash of thunder exploded overhead, Leif screamed into my ear. I was freezing, shaking uncontrollably, praying for the storm to pass.
All at once, as quickly as it had taken me from bone dry to soaking wet, the rain stopped and a glimmer of sun pierced the cloud. Now, I knew something about northern storms in September and I knew that this was merely a taste of what was to come. I knew of no other possible shelter in the area. This building was it. Even the tiny washroom which I’d huddled into had no door left to shut. My blankets were soaked. If this kept up all day I’d have a very uncomfortable night. Perhaps this ought to have been my catalyst. Maybe I could outrun the storm on the bike?
Leif had been crying since the initial spray of windswept rain had woken him. I think I was crying too. I bounced him while I paced back and forth, considering my options. Was leaving too rash a decision?
“Fine.” I stopped myself and held Leif under his arms, lifting him to my face. He stared at me with sad eyes. “I’m going to ask you a question, and then give you two possible answers. If you make a noise after I offer the answer then we will follow that path. Understand?”
“Leif,” I said in a low tone. “What do you think we should do? Stay?” I waited for the crying to begin, but he remained silent.
“Go?”
He whimpered immediately.
I wasn’t going to question Leif’s destiny; if he was meant to stay that was not the answer I got. I picked up my wrap and fitted him inside, slung it over my shoulder, grabbed my bag, and secured it to the bike.
My water supply was full save a couple of bottles, but if I was going to beat the storm north I had to
move. Looking to the pump, I smiled, blew it a kiss and pushed the ignition button on the bike. It rumbled to life. My heart soared and we navigated back onto the highway, continuing north.
Chapter Thirty Four
I had managed to keep far enough ahead of the growing storm clouds to pull over and change out of my wet clothes. The artificial wind in my face caused my teeth to chatter and my skin to tighten. It was a chilling experience, like being tossed into a lake in early spring. I noticed Leif could use a change as well and pulled over. I dug through the contents of the giant bag secured to the bike’s back rack, pulling out a new onesie and a full set of pajamas. I had become masterfully quick at the process of changing the baby. He was usually happy to accommodate me too. He appreciated the luxury of a clean diaper and fresh clothes.
Once we were both dry and dressed, I climbed back onto the three-wheeler and pushed on, looking over my shoulder constantly. My anxiety increased as the clouds advanced behind us.
I squinted against the speed-induced wind as an alarming thought struck. What if I were to come across the mass grave Earl, Sonny and Freddy claimed to have stumbled upon months before? I would see it long before I came to it. The roads now were straight and flat, the hills on the horizon always a distant marker. I couldn’t even be sure whether I was on the same highway. All I knew for sure was my direction: north. The compass on the bike offered that small reassurance.
*****
Three hours into my journey, the storm clouds a distant memory and the sky above me only blue, the bike’s fuel light began to blink wildly. Ten minutes later I was pushing the bike into a ditch.
My bag resting on its wheels, the handle extended and my baby strapped to my torso, I once again felt terribly vulnerable as I grasped the bag and moved forward on unsteady legs. I walked roughly three more hours before coming to a deep valley. The angle of decline was extreme but I continued onward, digging my heels into the asphalt. My bag kept clipping at my ankles so I pulled it out in front of me, its weight pulling me off center. ‘Don’t fall, don’t fall, don’t fall…’ I repeated aloud. It took an enormous amount of concentration to finally arrive safely at the bottom of the valley. But it was at the base that I felt the most insecure. Looking down at my feet, I saw that I was standing in a small stream. The water was still, the banks had flooded from what must have been a torrential downpour similar to that which chased me from my well. A ripple hit my ankle, approaching from my right. Then a second later, another. My heart lodged in my throat. There was absolutely no wind in the valley. It could be another animal, I surmised, perhaps a frog, or small fish that had survived in this muck? But my gut told me it was something else, someone else.
Not wanting to look up and confirm my fear, I kept my eyes on the water. The ripples became more frequent, followed by the sound of legs dragging in knee-high water. I reached into my waistband slowly, fingers wrapping around the handle of the pistol and gingerly pulling it free. I looked to my right, straining to see what the fates had thrown at me this time. The sound suddenly increased in volume and speed. I turned to face the noise with my pistol raised and ready.
Two men mere moments from tackling me stopped dead in their tracks, their arms raised over their heads automatically. One was much older than the other. He looked eighty-five but probably was no more than sixty. The other man, who appeared to be in his early twenties gestured wildly in surrender, backing away. The old man produced a long knife from his sleeve and turned it in his fingers.
“Now, now, pretty lady. All we want is what you have.” He inched closer. The young man eyed him.
“What I have is my own,” I retorted. “You come any closer and I’ll shoot you!”
“Now, now,” he continued as he slowly stepped up onto the road. “You don’t want to shoot me. You’re a nice little girl.” At that I cocked the hammer and again he froze in place.
“I’ve killed men before.” I cleared my throat so as not to seem so terrified. “I’ve killed before and I will kill you where you stand.” Trying not to let my hands shake, I thrust the gun further in front of me.
His head cocked and his brows rose. “Oh, I don’t believe that.” His mouth widened to a smile under his unkempt beard. “I doubt there are even any bullets in your gun. Mine hasn’t seen a bullet in over a year.”
“I’m not kidding. I will shoot you!” I shouted. My voice was shaky. Had I changed the magazine after I took down the clown? All this time I’d just assumed the gun had been loaded. My heart pounded angrily in my chest, my face flushed, my eyes narrowed to slivers.
“I think you’re mistaken,” he said, resuming his approach.
“Only one way to find out,” I said with what confidence I could muster. The man’s eyes widened and he lunged towards me, arm shooting up to bring the knife down. I fired twice. To my attacker’s amazement, he fell backwards as each bullet caught him in his midsection. He landed with a splash in the knee-high water beside the road and sank to its filthy bottom. I trained the gun on his young friend next.
“Dad!” He yelped before running to pull him out of his watery grave. He looked wildly up at me. “You killed him!”
“What did you think I would do?” I shouted back, shaking. “I have a baby!” It was a horrible thing - a son watching his father die - but I was someone’s mother now. Leif’s mother. And I would not let anyone harm him.
“You bitch!” His voice gave out and he sank to his knees beside his father’s shallow grave. It had occurred to me that I ought to shoot him too, so he would not follow me and attack us in the night.
“You stay,” I told him as I grabbed the handle of my bag and moved backwards. “You just stay where you are and you’ll be fine.” He didn’t respond for a time. I was half way up the other side of the valley highway before he realized I’d gone.
“You!” he screamed as he spotted me. My gun, returned to my waistband for the trip up, slipped through my loose pants and tumbled down the hill as I struggled to retrieve it. Knowing that my only chance was to outrun him, I dropped my bag and raced the rest of the way up the steep hill, Leif crying at my chest. Looking back, I saw to my horror that he was tearing up the hill after me, with my gun in hand. Reaching the top of the valley, I ran headfirst into the waiting arms of a stranger.
Chapter Thirty Five
I heard my gun go off before I was immediately hustled into the back of a parked truck. I remember telling the men that I had a baby, and needed help. They understood that all too well, shooting down my assailant as he appeared at the crest of the hill. He was cut down by the gun mounted to the roof of a jeep. The man whose body I had plowed into jumped into the back of the truck with me. He, like his companions, wore a face mask and combat fatigues. I guessed that this was the military. This was the rescue we’d all hoped for in the beginning. I felt I’d come full circle. There were six of them in total.
“Let me see your neck and your torso,” ordered the hollow voice behind the mask.
“My torso?” I wondered whether I was really safe after all.
“We need to inspect you. Are you feverish? How’s your eyesight?”
“I-I’m fine,” I stammered. “My eyesight is fine. What do you need to see on my torso?” It was difficult shouting back and forth with the baby crying.
“Precautions. We check all unknowns for the plague before they are admitted.”
“Admitted to what?”
“The base. Now remove your shirt.”
“I have a baby strapped to my chest. Could you please relax?” I slowly pulled Leif out of his worn sling and placed him lovingly down on the metallic truck bed. I then pulled off my top layers, my bra catching on the last of them and a sliver of my white breast popping out. My elbow instinctively snapped into a defensive position, covering the nipple.
“You look fine,” he concluded, sensing my embarrassment. “I mean, free of spots. The plague.” He struggled with his words.
My brows raised. Never seen a nipple before? “Okay, now what?”<
br />
“Let me see your baby.” He reached out. I picked Leif up and reluctantly handed him over to the soldier. An intense anxiety overcame me. I gathered up my tops and held them in a bunch in front of me.
After undressing him, he gave Leif a thorough visual inspection. “How old?”
“About two months.” I answered.
“Little small for two months, isn’t he?”
“He was a month or two premature.”
He handed Leif back to me and I dressed him quickly.
“What now?” I asked again.
He lowered his mask. “Now we can take you to the base.” He gave us a broad and reassuring smile. I couldn’t help noticing that he was incredibly handsome. “I’m Sergeant Jones, by the way.”
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