With a casual wave, Jack Hightower dismissed the group to their task. It was the final evening of innocence for his people, and it tore at him. The future was here, and it was anything but bright.
Epilogue: The New Arrivals
Lake Itasca State Park
What should have been a couple day's drive had turned into an arduous three week journey. Rey, Jose, George Washington and the other men had done their best to make good time, but it had been impossible. There was simply no way around it. The world had ended, and with it, modern travel.
Each town they came across was either burning, an armed camp, or at war with itself. As time went on, the sights became worse. They would cruise through towns, and spot human carcasses strewn about like so many dead leaves, no sign of what killed them. Any survivors were generally too scared to exit their bolt holes and basements, leaving the little caravan feeling isolated and cut off. When people did appear, they were most often hostile, attacking the men in order to drive them off or steal from them. It was a tiring existence, and a lonely one.
Furthermore, major cities were impassable. Huge clouds of debris rose into the air above each, visibly marking the graves of thousands or millions. The group found themselves skirting, backtracking, and generally meandering their way north east; no direct routes left available.
Nearing the end of their odyssey through America’s death, the men were fading. They had traveled from the small town of Vernal in Utah, up into Wyoming, back west to Montana and then north again to the Canadian border. They had followed the old national boundary line until they were nearly through north Dakota, darting south again only when they approached Minnesota's border.
Forced to be constantly on guard, they slept in the bus together, cramped and uncomfortable. Sentries were posted outside, but in order to avoid detection, no fires were lit and the sentries froze nightly. Their food stores ran out, and so they found themselves subsisting on whatever they could scrounge from the passing wildlife or towns.
By the time they neared their destination, they were hungry, tired, and close to the breaking point. If the haven they had been promised failed to materialize, Rey knew that all hope might well be lost for these men.
It hadn’t taken them long before they stopped talking of returning to New York, recognizing the futility of such a journey. Now, all the men’s hopes lay in the promise of a nearly mythical retreat in Minnesota. One that none of the party had ever actually seen. It wasn’t a lot to base their hope on, and hope was the only thing that kept the group going most days.
When the bus finally entered the Itasca State Forest, approaching from the west, Rey woke his friends. He gathered them for a quick discussion.
"Alright, the hope is that we are about to find Greg's hideout, but what do we do if we can't?" asked Rey.
George gave a start, "It has to be their hermano, if it's not..." He shrugged, "If it's not, we might as well just start digging these men's graves. I can't lead them to some other promised land, they're near enough to giving out as it is."
Rey gave him a piercing stare, "Just the men, or you as well?"
George chuckled darkly before answering, "Truthfully my little amigo, I'm a survivor, I'll do whatever I have to, but if I lose these men, their faces will haunt me for the rest of my life. I don’t really know how I would deal with that… maybe it would be better to just dig my grave next to theirs and give up." he said, staring out the window as he spoke.
Jose broke in, "George, if the men give up, they give up, But I don't believe that you have it in you to just accept death. Don't waste your time considering it." he said before nodding decisively, considering George's line of thinking effectively ended.
At the old man’s statement, George had turned to look at him, his gregarious face showing signs of anger at the old man. He seemed to be on the verge of a rather malicious retort, but was visibly suppressing the impulse.
In order to forestall further argument between the two, Rey spoke quickly, "Look, it's going to be there, it is. But, if it’s not, I say we head south. There's no time to find shelter up here before winter and we won't survive a northern one without it. I'm certain of that. So for now, we continue to hope we aren't being led astray, and south can be our contingency plan. Agreed?" he asked. He looked at both men, seeking their approval of his plan, desperate to know that if the worst happened, they could still look forward to some kind of hope.
With a sullen nod from George, and a quiet one from Jose, Rey received the reassurance he needed. Settling back into his seat, he counted the minutes, knowing that it wouldn't be long until they arrived. The little red chevy had been abandoned for lack of gas a few hundred miles ago, and now Rey and Jose rode the bus with everyone else.
Rey sat fiddling with the radio set they had acquired, hoping to find some news or word of other survivors, trying to avoid the silent questions that the other men’s eyes seemed to be asking him.
I just don’t know if we can count on this; what happens if Gary failed, or if I was misled? What do I say to these men...?
HIs thoughts were suddenly interrupted by the squawk of the radio in his hand. He had been slowly cycling through stations without really looking, and he desperately tried to tune back to where the noise had been. After a few tense seconds, he found the right channel. Rey felt a slow grin begin to envelope his dark skinned visage as heard the message.
“This is the Winterhaven encampment, calling for other survivors and communities. We have food, rooms, and warmth here if you can make it. This is the WInterhaven encampment...” The message repeated, but Rey couldn’t hear it over the wild cheering of an entire coach bus full of people.
They were saved.
The End of Book One
Dear Readers,
Thank you so very much for taking the time to read my little story. I must confess, it took me some time to summon the courage to sit down and start writing, much less to actually self-publish this novel for public consumption. Your investment of time (and money) make that choice feel vindicated.
Having finished “The Dead Familiar”, and before you move onto your next literary consumption, I must beg you; please, please place a review on the amazon site. The feedback helps me immensely with my work. I take your criticism and praise seriously. The praise provides me with the courage to continue writing, and the critiques help me better improve that writing.
If you enjoyed the story, please check out my sequel, Winterhaven, available December of 2013 for the first time. You can also find my page on facebook. If you leave me a message, I will try and respond when I am able, so feel free to let me know what you liked, loved or hated. Shameless plug now dutifully carried out, I leave you to your business. Enjoy!
-J.D. Mckenna
The Dead Familiar (Winterhaven Series) Page 16
