WWIV_The Last Finders

by E A Lake

  Next, he looked at Sharon’s exposed forearm; another single scar. Staring sadly at the woman, he shrugged. Looking past Sharon, Judy noticed Wilson’s head hanging, staring at the dirt on his shoes.

  “What’s your name?” the deputy asked.

  Wilson looked up. “Wilson,” he said tensely, meeting Rusty’s gaze.

  Rusty grinned. “First or last, Wilson?”

  Wilson relaxed. “Jim Wilson. Happy?” Wilson’s sleeves remained tight on his arms.

  Rusty nodded slightly. “Where you from, Jim? Minnesota or Mississippi?” Chuckling, he stepped closer. Judy drew in a sharp breath.

  “Dipstick over there,” Wilson said, nodding at Tiny, “can’t keep anything straight.” Rusty’s eyes steeled. “Nebraska. McCook, Nebraska.”

  The deputy’s questioning continued. “How long you been on the road?” Judy watched Wilson conjure up an answer. Maybe even the truth.

  “Ten years, hoss.” Wilson glanced at his friends, his companions. “Ten long, stupid years.”

  Judy noticed the deputy was staring at his arm. Dang it.

  Letting out a deep sigh, the deputy stepped closer to Wilson. “What am I gonna find on your arm, Jim?” How many marks?” The two men stood toe to toe.

  Wilson’s face hardened. “Enough to kill me, I suppose.” He raised his arm and pulled the sleeve away. Two deep scars marred his leathery skin.

  Closing his eyes, Rusty took a deep breath. He scratched his neck and turned to the others again. “Okay, here’s what we’re gonna do. You,” he said pointing at Judy. “You’re gonna get a mark. I’ll be nice, but I have to make it bleed so that it’s noticeable.” He let his eyes fall on Sharon. “You and the big guy here are both getting second marks. You know what that means, right?” His expression saddened.

  Sharon nodded slightly. “Yeah. After it heals, if we get caught again, we get a choice: shot in the left ear or right ear. Right?” Sharon’s expression softened. She knew the drill, Judy thought.

  The deputy nodded as he grabbed Judy’s arm. Raising the cold, stainless steel tool, he scratched back and forth, rubbing away the skin until trickles of blood rose to the surface. She winced and tried not to cry. She’d seen Sharon get her mark, and her cousin hadn’t shed a single tear.

  Rusty finished on Judy’s arm and moved to Sharon. Looking back at Judy, he spoke as he started scratching at Sharon’s rough skin. “Get some salve and keep it covered. It’ll heal okay and if you’re careful, you won’t get an infection.” He gave Judy a small smile. “No one will give you another as long as there’s a scab on that one. You’re good until then. Figure a couple weeks.” Finishing with Sharon, he moved to Tiny next.

  Tiny shoved his left arm out for the deputy. The pointy, stainless rod scraped back and forth, removing the first three layers of skin. Rusty applied more pressure to go deeper.

  “Ouch,” Tiny gasped.

  “Shut up, you big baby,” Wilson spat at his friend. “That’s the cost of living this way. Be a man, like Sharon.” He winked at the older of the two cousins and blew a small kiss her direction, laughing.

  Judy watched as Sharon stared with disdain back at Wilson. Her cousin didn’t like him. Never had; most likely never would. She wondered now if Jimmy had any more than two minutes left in his life expectancy.

  Moving to Wilson, Deputy Rusty Schwab grimaced. When he looked up, he found Wilson grinning strangely at him.

  “Do what you gotta do, hoss. Get it over with.” Wilson spoke without emotion. “The big guy up on the hill ain’t gonna like it if you let a two-time offender walk. He’ll know.” Wilson motioned to Rusty’s handgun. “Take that pistol and pop me in the head. No offense taken. You gotta do what you gotta do.” Wilson smiled sadly as he finished his speech.

  Judy gasped as the deputy grabbed Wilson’s left arm and harshly went at one of his scars with his tool. Showing no mercy, he scraped harder than he had on herself or Sharon or Tiny. Wilson flinched at first, but let the deputy do his job.

  The deputy spoke between his teeth without looking up. “I am so sick and tired of this. I don’t want to kill another man, even a piece of crap like you. I ain’t cut out for this. No one is. No one except that creep sheriff up there.”

  Finishing his task, he stared harshly at Wilson. “There. Can’t even tell it’s redone. Just looks like you pissed me off and I scraped the hell out of you. Pretty much the truth; right, hoss?” Judy noticed Wilson was holding his bleeding arm away from his body. Blood was dripping off his hand onto the crumbled blacktop.

  Judy fell to her knees, folding her hands and bowing here head. “Father, thank you for this man. Thank you for all our blessings. Thank you for taking care of Jimmy, and all of us. Please keep this deputy safe as he goes through his life. He’s a good man and deserves your grace. He…” She felt someone tug her up from the ground by her right arm.

  “Get the hell up,” Wilson scolded. “Don’t be praying to some fake god about some fake man. He did what he had to do so he could live with himself. Just a lucky break, that’s all.” He stared at Judy furiously, until Sharon pushed him away.

  “Leave her alone.” She pushed again at the man who was similar in size to her. “You’re such a prick, Wilson.” Sharon turned to hug Judy. Over Sharon’s shoulder, Judy noticed the deputy and Tiny watching them.

  “You are quite a group,” the deputy stated with disgust. “How have you stayed alive this long? You’re like cats and dogs.”

  He turned to remount his horse. “That’s the last warning for three of you. If you go east, you’re gonna find more law. And they ain’t very forgiving.” He frowned sadly. “They shoot anyone with two marks. Men, women, children. They don’t care. A finder is a finder, nothing more than dirt to them. Be warned.” He turned his horse and began slowly galloping back to the ridge.

  The group watched in silence as the deputy got smaller and smaller. Finally, they saw him ascend the hill and join the other man. Wilson turned to the group.

  “What a wimp,” he started. “Couldn’t even bring himself to shoot me. What a waste of law.” He spat on the ground and looked at his friend’s faces.

  Sharon stepped forward. “Seems to me like you just caught the biggest break ever. I know we did.” She grinned at Wilson’s questioning expression. “We don’t have to bury your sorry ass now.”

  Sharon laughed and went to retrieve her pack. “I’m in the lead again, stupid,” she said, glancing back at Wilson. “You got us lost and marked today. I’m back in charge.”

  Chapter Four

  Judy helped Tiny grab their packs and looked around at Jimmy.

  Wilson stared at his bleeding arm. That damned deputy spared no pressure as he scraped away. This wound will be bleeding for days. He grinned and cast a quick glance at Sharon. “Fine with me, butch. You’re just as dead as me next time we get stopped.” He laughed and stared at his friend. “Ain’t that right, Tiny?”

  Tiny’s eyes winced, as if he was in pain. “Don’t call her that, Wilson. That ain’t nice.” He shook his head, staring at the ground.

  Judy stepped closer to Wilson and looked him in the eye. “Be nice, please. God sparred your life today, Jim. Be grateful,” she whispered. With a small pat on his chest, she turned and rejoined the group, followed closely by Wilson.

  The group turned north on a road marked “B”. At least, that’s what the sign stated. According to Judy’s map, this would lead them to the freeway, some two miles ahead. They knew they would have to stay off the main road. There was too much risk out there. Groups of people in hiding, waiting for travelers they could easily rob. The side roads and lesser highways were much safer. That was a lesson they’d learned early on the roads.

  “Why’d you tell him we were all from McCook?” Judy called out to Wilson. “Why didn’t you tell him Sharon and I were from Red Oak in Iowa? Maybe he might’ve known where that was.” Judy kept pace with her companions while making small talk.

  Wilson grinned. “I just told him where I w
as from. Me and Tiny at least.” He shared a glance with his friend. “You wanted to tell him where you were from? You should have spoke up. Let your voice be heard, little girl.” Wilson trailed the group by several paces.

  Sharon turned to face him from ahead. “Why did we ever agree to come with you? For the life of me, I can’t recall anything good about you. Tiny? He’s great. You?” She shook her head. “Not so much.” She kept walking backwards.

  “Seems to me,” Wilson began, “you said you and Judy wanted to get away from Red Oak. Something about not wanting to go to one of those respite camps the government opened up. ‘Didn’t want to die there’ I believe were your exact words.” Sharon frowned at Wilson’s remembrances.

  She was 21, Judy 15, Sharon remembered. Food had pretty much become a thing of the past by then. Eight long years had passed since the lights went out and took everything with them. Everything. They had an old tractor that still ran until the fuel gave out, but nothing else. Their only water came from the pump out front, the kind you had to pump by hand. Less than a year after the event, Judy’s family came to live with Sharon and her folks. Three years after that, the well went dry. The last of their livestock died that winter. For the next three years, the two families did all they could to scratch out whatever existence they were able manage. Finally, the year the girls joined Wilson and Tiny, the parents agreed they had to turn to the government for help.

  Wilson jolted Sharon from her dream. “You know those places are bad. Just a death camp really.” He looked sadly at Sharon. “I’m sure once your families got there, they turned right around and came back to the farm. Those places aren’t for the living.” Wilson chuckled. “What fool ever came up with the name Respite Camp, anyway?” Sharon smirked. She agreed.

  “It was a good plan,” Judy added. “On paper, at least. But once the gas supply dried up, they couldn’t deliver food any more. Then people started to die. No food, no water, no medical help.” Judy stopped and stared down. “Thousands and thousands of people. All crammed into such a small place. With no help.” She shook her head sadly. “Not good.” Sharon knew that Judy too wondered if her parents gave up on their respite camp plans. They both hoped so.

  “Well, whatever they did, I’m sure they were smart enough to figure it out.” Wilson added, seeming to want to lift the women’s spirits. “I know my folks did. They’re still on the farm. I bet Tiny’s are, too.” Tiny nodded sadly.

  Wilson continued, “I heard once they set up something like 400 of those respite camps in the Midwest alone. They was gonna be the savior of the people.” Wilson smiled at Judy. “That and Judy’s God. Well, we know now neither was any help. No government anymore, and there never was a God.” Wilson sneered at Sharon as he finished. She hated his speeches the most.

  Judy approached with a smile. “Jim, don’t say that about God. He has given us so much out here. Kept us alive.” Her eyes lit up. “Why, He even saved your soul today, didn’t he?” Judy nodded proudly. “God’s love is all around us. Each and every day. I feel it, I sense it, I know it.”

  Sharon noticed Wilson turn to face the west. “Well it looks like your God is about to rain all over us in the next bit.” Pointing at the horizon, he continued. “We’d better find a place to lay low ‘til that storm passes.” He turned and trudged forward, to the south.

  Sharon took a deep breath and called out for him. “Say, brainiac? That’s south; we need to head north.” Wilson changed directions and continued on, unfazed.

  Tiny stepped next to Sharon and Judy. “I believe in God too, Judy. He saved Jim’s life today. Just like you said.”

  The pair looked up at their large friend. “That’s right, Randy,” Judy replied. “He did. Even though Jim doesn’t love God, God still loves him. And that’s what really counts.”

  Sharon felt the large man wrap his long arm around her shoulder. She noticed he had done the same to Judy. Where Jimmy Wilson was the largest pain in her butt, Randy Graves – whom everyone lovingly called Tiny – was as sweet and gentle a man she’d ever known.

  Chapter Five

  Moving at double time, the group watched the sky cautiously. Once gray clouds had become black as night. Occasionally, Wilson saw a flash of lightning and heard low rumbling thunder. The group quickened their pace. Wilson knew they needed to make it over the freeway and to some distant farmhouse in the east. A flash of lightning overhead and a loud, immediate clap of thunder startled him.

  “Say, boss,” Wilson called out from ahead of the group. “Now may be a good time for us to run. That place ain’t getting any closer walking, you know.” Judy and Tiny sprinted past Wilson as he turned his gaze back to Sharon. She too started to run. “Alright then. I guess run it is,” he muttered under his breath as he took off after his comrades. He could now smell the dust being kicked up by the rain, the close, impending rain.

  The dirt road leading to the farmhouse provided one last final track that they all sprinted down. They may not have been the fastest runners, but they managed to beat the rain by a few minutes. Wilson grinned, satisfied with their mini triumph. He and Sharon banged on the doors to make sure the place was empty. When they were sure the place was deserted, they signaled for the others to follow them inside.

  Wilson stood frozen, gazing around the small, dark kitchen. He searched carefully for any candles that might be sitting about. Finally, he spotted a pair on the kitchen table. Taking a matchbook from his pocket, he lit their only source of light at the moment. Though it was only mid-afternoon, the dark skies made it seem like midnight inside the musty old home.

  Seeing Judy’s smiling face, Wilson returned her smile. She was a sweet girl. He didn’t really know why he picked on her so much about God. He knew she loved the Lord with all her heart and soul and mind. He just couldn’t share the baseless beliefs. He frowned to himself. He knew the problem; and it had nothing to do with Judy.

  Tiny brought the two large packs into the kitchen and set them on the table. “We’ll want these later, at meal time right?” he asked Sharon. She nodded.

  “Thanks Tiny. You’re a good helper.” She turned her gaze next to Wilson. “Wanna go downstairs and check while I head upstairs?” He nodded his reply. Same game as always.

  Every new house had to be thoroughly vetted. They had to be 100 percent certain they were alone. They couldn’t take any chances of getting surprised by others and perhaps losing their packs, their bounty – all their worldly possessions.

  At every place, it was the same drill. Tiny and Judy checked the main floor after he and Sharon had done a quick check. Wilson would take his solar-powered flashlight and check the dark basement. Sharon would use whatever light remained in the day to secure the upper level. Never did they enter a building after dark anymore. Never. One time, just after they’d first joined forces, they made that mistake. It cost them all the food they had, three changes of clothes for the women, two for the men and a rifle Wilson carried for protection. Along with the rifle, the bandits took the more than 150 rounds of ammunition.

  That one lesson stayed cemented in their collective minds, especially Wilson’s. Now, they functioned like a well-run team. Without a word, each assumed his or her duty and performed it seriously and meticulously. Every closet checked, every bed looked under, every small hiding spot searched. Nothing was left to chance.

  After securing their space, Wilson joined the group and sat quietly in the living room. He looked around the space, taking in the hominess of the place. He rose and walked to a small upright piano. Pulling a picture from the lid, he turned and winked at Tiny.

  “Whoever they were, they had two hot daughters. Wish they was still here, ay, Tiny?” Wilson’s grin provoked a disgusted grimace from Sharon.

  “Stop it, you idiot,” she said quietly. “Is that all you ever think about?” Girls and women? Really?” Sharon slumped on the sofa she shared with Judy.

  Wilson smiled at her. “Probably all you ever think about, I bet. They’re pretty hot. Check ‘em out.
” He tossed the framed print to the couch. Judy caught it and stared at the picture inside the brown wood frame.

  “They look nice. Happy even.” She showed the picture to her cousin and then to Tiny. Wilson nodded their agreement. “Looks like a church picture. Something my parents did. We had a number of these around the house.” Judy seemed to lose herself in memories, still staring at the strangers.

  Wilson shrugged. “Someone’s probably looking at a picture of you and your sis right now. They’re saying, ‘Whoa, check out these hotties’.” He looked closer at Judy. “They talk like that in Iowa, right?” Judy blushed and smiled. Sharon shook her head.

  “Yeah, you’re from such a sophisticated place. McCook, population 22?” Sharon sat up and glared at Wilson. “How many in your classes back in school? Just you and Tiny?” Sharon jabbed Judy in the ribs as the pair shared a smile. Tiny sat up in a chair in the corner.

  “Seven in our last class.” He thought hard. “Me, Jim, two of my cousins, Tommy B. and Tommy R.” Tiny froze; he had forgotten someone.

  “Julie,” Wilson added. “Julie Hageldorn.” He smiled while saying the name. “Man, was she a cute girl. Red hair, pure white skin, just like the snow. Her teeth were so bright, it almost hurt your eyes when she smiled.” Staring at the old stained carpet, Wilson’s smile grew. “And her eyes, they were just the prettiest eyes I ever saw. They sparkled and twinkled like the stars.” Everyone else quietly watched Wilson continue his dream.

  “How old was she, Jim? The last time you saw her.” Judy liked it when Wilson thought of the past. His memories made him so much mellower.

  He turned and stared at Tiny. “Let’s see. We’re 26 now, right?” Tiny nodded. “Power went out 16 years ago. I suppose she was nine or ten. Not any older than that though.” His eyes drifted to the window, watching the rain begin. “She was just that cute little girl that every boy liked. Nice girl.”