EMP: Return of the Wild West | Book 3 | Survive The Journey

by Hamilton, Grace

  Darryl went and stood behind Horace, gazing down at a confusing mess of lines and grooves carved in the ground. He couldn’t make sense of it, even after a few seconds of studying it. “Truthfully, I’m not sure what I’m looking at, sir,” he said.

  Horace began point at parts of his diagram. “I’m not much of an artist, and I was never a draftsman, but my thought is we use the old lead lines, driving reins, ropes, and some blankets for padding to create the harnesses for the travois. Here’s roughly what they would look it. The ropes will bear the weight, but the blankets will help prevent chafing. What do you think? Can we create something like this?”

  “You’ll have to guide me through it,” Darryl replied. I couldn’t follow your drawing if my life depended on it.

  “Got it,” Horace said. “We’ll go step by step. Gather the materials.”

  As Darryl worked to create harnesses for the travois, Tabitha, Marion, and Emma loaded up the supplies Greg had prepared, trying to distribute the weight evenly. Emma had strong opinions about where everything should go, and her mother and grandmother patiently tolerated it. Greg pushed all of the remaining supplies to one side of the cave, giving them a rather sad, regretful look.

  Let’s hope he was wrong and we won’t end up needing the stuff we leave behind, Darryl thought. Then again, I suppose we can always make a trip back here someday and retrieve it all.

  Maybe the journey to the lodge would end up being a few short hours along an open path with no real problems. In the end, they would feel silly about all of their worry, but at least they would be safe.

  “I’ll go and get the horses,” Greg said. “I left them grazing in the meadow. Once the animals are all rounded up, it seems to me we’ll be ready to go.”

  Darryl gestured at the harnesses that he and Horace had created. “Looks like it.”

  “Okay, until I get back, rack your brains to make sure we’re not leaving behind anything that is absolutely essential.” He looked at each person in turn, as if personally assigning them the task, then headed out of the cave, walking down the slope that led to the meadow.

  Of course, there was one thing that Darryl hadn’t been able to find. The old compass from Tuck’s toolbox. They’d wound up needing it on their journey to the winter camp. After finding the trail to the cabin snowed in, they’d gotten turned around in a snowstorm, and the compass had helped them find their way. Darryl couldn’t imagine what had happened to it, but he feared they might need it, especially once they got into the deep woods. For some reason, he couldn’t let it go. Its disappearance was bugging him.

  “Horace, I think the harnesses are good here,” he said. “I’m going to take one more pass through the old rooms and make sure we didn’t leave anything we need.”

  Horace tipped him a salute. As Darryl headed deeper into the caves again, he heard Tabitha and Emma bickering about the placement of the water barrels.

  “Toward the front, Grandma,” Emma was saying. “Toward the front.”

  “They’re more likely to tip over up there,” Tabitha replied.

  “Nothing’s going to tip over,” Emma said. “The angle won’t be that steep. Look how long the poles are.”

  “The horses are taller than you realize! Now, stop mouthing off at your granny. It’s starting to irk me.”

  “But Grandma, I’m just trying to help.”

  Let’s hope this doesn’t set the general mood of the trip, Darryl thought.

  Justine was still sitting on her pallet, leaning back against the cave wall, with her hands resting on top of her big belly. Though she seemed half asleep, he paused and gently patted her on top of the head.

  “Are you okay?” he asked her.

  “I’m thinking about whether or not I have enough energy to get up, walk out of the cave, and barf in the grass,” she said. “Maybe not. I might just sit here and swallow it.”

  “Yuck,” Darryl replied. “I’ll carry you out of the cave, if you want.”

  She looked up with an ornery glint in her eye. “You sure are determined to carry me around. It keeps coming up. I’m not an invalid, you know.” Even as she said it, she reached up and grabbed his hand, giving it a squeeze. He knew her well enough now to tell when the sarcasm was coming from a gentle place. “Just tell me when it’s time to go. I’m sick of sitting here not helping anyone.”

  “It’ll be soon,” he said. “And you are helping someone. You’re helping the little one.”

  “Well, tell the little one to quit kicking my ribs,” she said with a smile. “He can kick my spleen for a while and give the ribs a rest.”

  Darryl headed back into the living chambers and spent a few more minutes rooting around in the dark, searching the likely places where the compass might have fallen. It was no use. The compass had vanished into thin air. It was a shame. Not just because they might need it, but because it had belonged to his grandfather. That made it irreplaceable. But that wasn’t really the problem, and he knew it. He’d become obsessed with maintaining anything that he thought might be helpful for Justine and the baby. Indeed, the reason why he’d been able to find the medicine box in the dark was because he checked the damn thing almost every day, making sure all of their essential medicine and first aid supplies were readily available, for Justine’s sake.

  He felt along the floor, in the corners, along the walls. It was a futile effort, and he finally returned to join the others, resigned to accept its loss but irritated. Just then, Marion and Tabitha were placing the medicine box onto one of the travois. He hadn’t noticed just how bad Tabitha looked. His grandmother was sweating profusely, and she seemed flushed. After setting the box down, she collapsed on her rump, struggling to catch her breath.

  “Grandma, don’t push yourself too hard,” Darryl said.

  “I’ll be fine,” she replied. She pulled off her gloves, dabbed her forehead with one of them, and unzipped her coat. “Just need a little break. I haven’t worked this hard since we first got to the camp.”

  Darryl glanced at the medicine box. It was a touchy subject. She hated it when he brought up her medication, but it needed to be addressed, especially with the hard journey ahead of them. Darryl gathered his courage before plunging ahead.

  “Grandma, when I looked inside that box, I noticed that the container with your medicine is feeling really light,” he said. “I guess that’s a good thing, since it’s means you’ve been taking your meds, but are you close to running out?”

  She wouldn’t look at him, but he could tell by the sudden tightness in her face that he’d made her mad. Tabitha looked down at the ground, her lips working back and forth.

  “If you’re running out of meds, you should tell us,” Marion said. “It’s something that will have to be addressed. Why didn’t you say something?”

  “I’m fine,” Tabitha snapped. “I have it all under control, okay? Darryl, you can be so nosy sometimes.” She laughed, but he could tell there was embarrassment behind it. Why did she hate this so much? Diabetes wasn’t something to be ashamed of. “As I’ve told you all many times, I mostly control my symptoms through diet, and that’s still the case. I’m not some old biddy that needs help changing her diaper. I am still fully capable of looking after myself.”

  Darryl had always found his grandmother intimidating, but he wasn’t the same person anymore. His sense of responsibility had made him bold, even in the face of Grandma’s tirade. He waited patiently for her to finish and then, speaking as calmly as he could, he replied, “Grandma, it’s our responsibility to worry about you. Heck, it’s our responsibility to worry about everyone. We take care of each other, right? So we have to stay on top of any possible problem, especially when the well-being of a family member is concerned.”

  This response seemed to soften her. Tabitha dabbed her face again, then pulled on her gloves. “Of course. I just don’t like everyone needling me about my health. I’m on top of it. I’ve been looking after my own health for a long time, and I’ve done a pretty good job of it, I�
��d say. If it’s any consolation, I’ve got more medications stocked at the hunting cabin, so if we can just get there, everything will be fine.”

  “Mom, is that true?” Marion asked.

  “Yes, of course,” Tabitha replied. “Now, can we stop worrying about how much medicine is in this little box here?” She patted the wooden lid. “Let’s just get to our destination as fast as we can, and I’ll be fine.”

  Darryl didn’t believe her. By her own admission, she hadn’t visited the cabin in a few years. He decided not to press the point.

  “Okay, fair enough,” he said, after a moment. “Then we’ll try to make good time and get there as soon as possible.”

  “Just tell us if you have any major symptoms, Mom,” Marion added. “Don’t keep it a secret.”

  “A little hot flash is not a major symptom,” Tabitha said. “I’ll let you know if I’m in real trouble. Just don’t pester me. That’s all I ask. Okay?”

  Darryl and Marion glanced at each other. It would have to do.

  5

  Greg had a bad feeling about the whole journey from the moment they set out. He could see that the lower part of the mountain was dense with trees that crowded in along the edges of the pass, eating away at the road. In some places, it was going to be a tight squeeze. Keeping the fifteen head of cattle all moving in the same direction would be a pain, especially when three of the cowherds were on foot. As they crossed the meadow outside the cave, he realized their pace was going to be excruciatingly slow. At this rate, it seemed like it would take days to get to the hunting cabin. The draft horses, at least, seemed to handle the weight of two riders plus the travois with little trouble.

  Greg lingered near the back of the group so he could keep an eye on everything, carrying the crude hiking staff he’d made out of a dry sapling during their time in the cave. Darryl fell back to walk beside him, the Remington rifle stuck beneath a strap of his backpack. Greg had the Walther PPK pistol in a holster under his coat. Hopefully, they wouldn’t need either.

  “I don’t know if it’s because we’ve been stuck in a cave all winter,” Darryl said, “but I feel out of shape. We haven’t gone two kilometers, and I’m already sore.”

  “Yeah, it’s rough,” Greg replied. “Everyone’s lethargic. Even the cattle. Let’s hope we start to warm up. Otherwise, we’re in for a hell of a trip.”

  Darryl looked around, as if making sure no one was in hearing range, then said, “Maybe this was a mistake, Dad. Maybe we should have stayed in the cave a couple more weeks.”

  “The trip to the cabin was always going to be a pain,” Greg replied, “and we would only have gotten more out of shape. I think the timing of our journey is right, even if it’s not easy.”

  The horses were leading the way, Tabitha and Horace’s mount slightly ahead of the other. Emma had been trying to keep pace with the horses, trotting along at times. She was always the chipper one. The difficulty of the road ahead did little to discourage her. However, she noticed that Greg and Darryl were behind her, and she fell back to join them.

  “What are we talking about?” she asked.

  The leader of the herd was a particularly large, but relatively calm cow. They kept her on a lead line attached to the harness of one of the horses. As long as she kept moving, the others were likely to follow. However, Greg tried to keep his eyes on the fringes to make sure none of them wandered off. And what would he do if one of them did? A determined cow would have no trouble getting away from them.

  How many of these head of cattle can we afford to lose? he asked himself. Let’s hope they keep following the leader.

  He realized he hadn’t responded to Emma, so he finally said, “We’re talking about the hard life of being cowboys with no horses to drive the cattle.”

  “Maybe we should have slaughtered them all first and cured the meat,” Emma said.

  “We wouldn’t have been able to lug all of the meat,” Greg said. “It’s a bad situation all around, but we’re making the best of it. If we get to the cabin with a few cows left, I’ll consider it a success. We can’t do much more than that.”

  “I guess it’ll be worth it to get settled into the cabin well before the baby is born,” Darryl said. “There might be a lot of work to do to fix the place up.”

  “Let’s just hope the structure is still intact,” Greg said.

  Approaching the mountains was a trick itself. Tabitha claimed there had been a dirt road here at some point in the past, but it had long since disappeared. They were kilometers from the nearest major road, so they were forced to cross the meadow outside the cave and find the easiest path through the woods. From the meadow, it was a slow curve to the southeast, circling around to approach the mountain trail from the east. Finally, they found the residue of an old gravel road that was still mostly hidden under the snow.

  Greg didn’t care for the way the travois dragged over the rocky ground, bumping and thumping all the way, which caused their supplies to jostle together. They had lashed everything down with ropes and straps, but he wasn’t sure how long it would all hold up. With so many different things to worry about, he felt himself sinking into a fouler and fouler mood. He made a valiant effort not to let it show, but they were only two or three hours into the journey, and the whole thing already felt like a huge mistake.

  We should have stayed in the cave. We had enough food, milk from the cows, access to clean water from nearby streams. We could have made it work. What was I thinking? Why did I agree to this?

  But it was too late now, and he knew it. After all the work they’d done to get ready, nobody would agree to turn back. They had just come in sight of the lower switchbacks of the mountain pass when he saw one of the calves wandering off into the trees. He made his way toward it, working his way through the rest of the herd, but he didn’t want to startle any of the other animals. This slowed his pace, and by the time he got into the trees, the calf was long gone. He didn’t see it anywhere, and he couldn’t hear it over the constant dragging sound of the travois.

  As he made his way back to the company, however, he was able to divert another cow that had started to wander off. He tapped it on the flank with his staff, and it turned back, trotting after the lead cow. Darryl and Emma met him as he rejoined the caravan.

  “Did we lose one?” Darryl asked.

  He nodded. “Don’t say anything about it to Tabitha. It’ll be easier up on the mountain. They’ll have a more restricted path.”

  “Dad, I’ll go after it,” Emma said. “I bet I could circle around and shoo it back this way.”

  “Don’t bother,” he said. “I don’t want anyone going off alone. Maybe it’ll come back of its own volition. We knew this would happen.”

  He waved them on.

  Another half hour brought them to a rather steep slope, the narrow mountain path cutting a zigzagging pattern through dense evergreen trees. Here, at least, the path was lined with dense brush that would keep the cows from wandering off. Greg eased back behind the herd again and did his best to make sure they were properly funneled onto the trail. This put the horses far ahead of him. Marion and Tabitha glanced back occasionally, and each time, he raised a hand to reassure them.

  As they ascended the path, he sent Darryl and Emma to the front of the group. The horses had slowed down and seemed nervous to continue, so he had them lead the horses on foot. The weather, at least, was nice. By mid-afternoon, the sun was fully out, and he could feel the warmth on his face. Snow had continued to melt, making the ground damp and slippery, and occasionally one of the cattle took a bad step. However, the mountain trail turned out to be much easier than riding through the woods.

  With little risk of the cattle wandering off, Greg worked his way back through the herd to rejoin the others at the front of the caravan. As he approached, he heard Marion, Tabitha, and Justine having a lively debate. They all looked quite cozy on their saddles, though Horace seemed half asleep, slumped forward with his arms crossed.

  “Well, d
on’t take this as egotistical or anything,” Tabitha was saying, as Greg moved up alongside the horses, “but if it’s a girl, I think you should seriously consider naming it Tabitha. And if it’s a boy, you won’t go wrong naming it Tuck.” She had a smile on her face as she said, it, but Greg couldn’t tell if she was joking or not. Marion and Justine stared at her in obvious confusion for a second, then Justine shook her head and make a soft little sound that might have been a laugh.

  “I’ll add that to the list,” she said.

  “It’s up to you, of course,” Tabitha replied, shrugging one shoulder. “Just throwing out ideas.”

  “It’s so hard to pick a name,” Justine said with a sigh. “I mean, the kid is going to be stuck with it for the rest of their life. I want something interesting, something unique, but not too weird or anything. I wish I had a book of baby names. It’s hard to think of them.”

  “Something unique?” Marion replied, a twinkle in her eye. “Oh, how about Rocky…or Gem…or Hamline. Yes, that’s it, I think. Hamline Healy.”

  Unlike Tabitha, it was clear that Marion was joking, and Justine laughed loudly. Emma laughed too and joined in the fun.

  “How about Tiger,” she said. “Or…or Pinecone…or Spider!”

  Now, they were all laughing, even Tabitha. Horace snorted and looked up from his semi-sleep, and that only made people laugh harder.

  “No one is naming our kid Spider,” Darryl said.

  “I don’t know,” Justine replied, tapping her chin with one finger. “I kind of like Spider.” She had stopped laughing, narrowing her eyes as if she were seriously considering it. “It sounds kind of tough, you know? Like a biker’s name. Nobody’s going to mess with someone named Spider.”

  Darryl had been leading their horse, but he dropped back and grabbed Justine’s leg. “Please, tell me you’re not serious. Spider Healy? That poor kid’s life would be ruined.”