by J. R. Tate
Looking up at the moon, he estimated that there were still a few hours before the sun would come up. That would give him ample time to check it out and make it back without alarming Cecilia. She had become overly protective of him and he couldn’t blame her.
Since Mike was out of sight, Ryan didn’t worry about staying low to the ground. And now he had a back story if his former chief decided to circle back around and catch him out there. He could just claim he was gathering supplies and happened onto Mike’s former ranch. The way Ryan saw it, no one owned any land anymore. Just like no one held a higher rank over the other. They were all equal, fighting for the same thing – life and survival.
He made a personal note to watch for rattlesnakes. It was starting to get a little cool for them but he couldn’t risk it. The dry tumbleweeds were prime places they liked to hide and the open land was packed full of them. If a good gust of wind came through it would look like an old, dusty western.
He also had to keep an eye out for wildlife. Just like people were becoming desperate, so were animals, and they were getting brave enough to get closer and closer to places they once never considered prowling at. Mountain lions had been spotted coming down toward town and there were also added threats of wild boars, foxes, and coyotes.
Ryan tried to keep his pace up. He was able to walk a mile in a little under ten minutes now so it would take about twenty to get to the old Rayburn place. Due to the fact that he had to watch every step he took, he reached Mike’s property line fast, his palms becoming sweaty when he saw the horse Mike had been riding tied up to a set of mangled trees beside the foundation where his ranch house once stood. But where was Mike?
Ryan looked for a place to hide but all of the shrubbery and trees had been picked thin and he was left vulnerable, standing out in the middle of the yard with the bright moon cascading right down on top of him. It was likely that Mike had gone down into his basement and Ryan ran to another grove of trees just south of the house. He felt dirty for spying on his former chief but something about him was making his skin crawl.
Crouching again, he was glad his clothes were dark. If he stayed still, maybe Mike would never know he was being watched. He held his breath when he spotted Mike walking up the steps, a large object in his arms. Balancing on the last step, he gained his footing and set it down. Ryan couldn’t tell what it was but Mike quickly went back down the stairs.
He wanted to give Rayburn the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he was gathering more supplies to help Harper Springs. Maybe he had found some stuff he had forgotten about. But Ryan’s instincts were saying otherwise – he just wanted to know what in the hell this man was up to.
He waited a few more seconds – Mike came back up again empty handed and took a long swig off of a bottle. It definitely wasn’t a canteen and it didn’t take a genius to figure out he had tapped into some alcohol. Ryan longed for a drink. It had been months since he had tasted the heavy flavor of whiskey burning down to his stomach. Not to mention how great it would be to aid in easing his anxiety. Watching Mike wasn’t helping and now he was stuck. He willed Mike to go back down into the basement so he could run off. Now wasn’t the time or place to confront him. He needed solid ground to say something and right now, for all Ryan knew, Mike was just gathering supplies. He couldn’t just point fingers and claim the man was up to no good.
Mike finished off the bottle and tossed it aside, the glass clanking against the box he had lugged up the stairs. Inching back downward, Ryan waited a few seconds and took the chance to run back toward town.
Following Mike hadn’t helped a bit. Instead, it opened up more curiosity that Ryan feared he’d never get answers to. All he was doing was moving a big box. Ryan wasn’t in a position to assume anything but Mike’s recent behavior was enough of a red flag to make him question everything the man did.
Read between the lines.
Mike’s words echoed in Ryan’s mind. Reading between the lines was going to make him lose his mind. Everyone was a suspect. He just had to figure out exactly what it was that they might be guilty of.
~~
Cecilia woke up and reached out for Ryan but his cot was empty. Sitting up, she wiped the sleep from her eyes and squinted. It was completely dark and only a few lanterns were burning. She had no idea what time it was, but it was obviously too early for him to be out and about. Most people had become early risers and if no one was stirring, it was likely still in the morning hours.
Sighing, she hoped he was just using the bathroom or got hungry. Waiting a few minutes, she listened to Ty’s breathing on the cot adjacent to them. Every now and then he’d snore and his nostrils would whistle and it made her smile. He was getting more active, which meant he always crashed hard when it was time to go to bed. There was rarely any argument out of him when they called lights out.
Kicking her legs off of the side, her toes touched the cool floor beneath her. Where in the hell was Ryan? She couldn’t take much more of him going out there in the middle of danger, and now he wasn’t communicating with her. She knew Ryan could hold his own but she was a worrier – if something happened to him she’d be devastated. Ty wouldn’t understand. And most importantly, he had stepped into a leadership role without even trying. How would the people of Harper Springs respond if he got killed or completely disappeared? It’d be a complete collapse of society – and she thought they had already hit rock bottom with current conditions.
Ambling toward the toiletry table, Cecilia felt her way around everyone. Some people had to sleep on the floor, some in chairs, and a few people were awake, whispering or lying there staring off into the darkness.
Nodding toward a few of them, she felt comfortable now that her eyes had started adjusting to the darkness. Muscle memory was helpful – if there came a day when they moved things around, she was certain she’d be bumping into more than she was at that moment.
“Cecilia?”
She heard Darryl’s whisper a few steps away and it made her jump.
“Darryl?”
“What are you doing up?”
“I can ask you the same question,” she replied, smoothing her hands over her hair.
“I couldn’t sleep.”
Cecilia ducked her head and ran her hand over the surface of the snack table. “Ryan isn’t on his cot.”
“What?”
“He’s not there. Do you know where he went?”
Darryl shrugged, his eyes widening. “No. Maybe he’s just working.”
“In the dark?”
“Yeah. The full moon makes it bright enough to get some of the harvest done. And if I know Ryan, if he can’t sleep he’s going to make himself useful.”
Cecilia wrapped her baggy shirt around her, hugging her midsection. The transition to cooler air was abrupt and they weren’t quite equipped for the change of seasons. The thin blankets the clinic had supplied would help but probably wouldn’t be enough if winter came down on them hard.
“I wish he’d tell me these things.”
Darryl patted her arm. “I know. He probably just didn’t want to wake you.”
She wouldn’t be able to go back to sleep so she gathered a few items for breakfast. Ty was still hooked on instant oatmeal and she couldn’t stomach the thought of eating another bite of it. They had pulled out some of the boar meat and she considered warming some of it up. Under normal circumstances she would have never considered eating it – fear of food contamination would have made her completely avoid it – but now, her mouth watered at the thought of the smoky meat.
They stored it in the wall of a cellar, keeping it cool, and it had been smoked – the chances that it would have any issues were slim. It didn’t have all of the added chemicals and preservatives that store bought meat had, which was good and bad. It was all organic, which meant it was probably safer than anything she had cooked before all of this had happened.
Cecilia lit the lantern near her cot, the heat off of the match burning her fingertips. Blowing it out quickly,
she winced at the shot of pain. She put her finger in her mouth and made sure her whimper hadn’t woken anyone up. Ty and her mother slept soundly and she didn’t see where Darryl had wandered off to.
Pulling the camp stove out, she made sure to be more careful when lighting the burner. The propane bottle they were using was low so she’d have to be quick in warming food up. They had stored some of the meat in the shelter in tightly sealed bags submerged in water to keep it cool.
Dumping the meat into the small frying pan, she moved it around with a spoon, the scent of it wafting upward, making her stomach growl. They were all malnourished and losing a lot of weight. Even if she wanted to gobble down a lot of food, her stomach wouldn’t allow it. It had shrunk and she was good for a few bites here and there.
Margaret sat up on her cot and squinted toward Cecilia, rubbing her eyes with her fist. “Cecilia?”
“Good morning.”
“What are you doing?” She whispered, her eyes averting to Ty and back to her daughter.
“Cooking some breakfast. Are you hungry?”
“I am. What time is it?”
“I’m not sure. It’s still early yet but I couldn’t sleep.”
She knew that the scent off of her cooking would start to wake others up. If she had to estimate it, it was almost time for everyone to start getting up anyway.
“Something is on your mind, isn’t it?” Margaret approached her, cupping Cecilia’s chin in her palm.
“Of course, Mom. It doesn’t take a genius to figure that out.” She cringed at how harsh it sounded. “I’m sorry, Mom. I don’t mean to sound so hateful.”
“It’s quite alright, honey. Talk to me. I’m here for you.”
Cecilia flipped over the pieces of meat, hoping that if she got it warmed up well enough, it’d completely wipe out the chances of making them sick. There was still a part of her that didn’t trust it.
“It’s all fine, Mom. I can’t dump things all on you when you are...” She cut herself off and looked away, feeling the warmth in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t want to cry in front of anyone.
“When I am what?” Margaret asked, taking the plastic spoon from Cecilia.
“When you’re going through your own stuff. Dad...” No matter how hard she tried to control it, the tears flowed and she tried to swipe them away as soon as they trailed down her cheeks.
“It’s all going to be okay, Cecilia.”
“Hell, look at me, Mom. I didn’t think I had any tears left in me to cry.”
Margaret took Cecilia’s arm and pulled her in, wrapping her arms around her in a tight hug. Cecilia buried her face against her mom, the embrace warm, comforting, and a jolt into reality. She didn’t know what she’d do without her mother and she had come close to losing her. It was hard enough knowing what happened to her father. Losing her mom would completely kill her.
“This is life as we know it now, Mom. I just can’t accept it.”
Margaret held both sides of Cecilia’s face in her hands and kissed her forehead, her kind and gentle smile just like Cecilia remembered it when she was a child. “I know, honey. It’s a bad dream we can’t seem to wake up from.”
Cecilia held onto her mother for a while, unwilling to let her go. For that split second, she didn’t have to face reality. She was a little girl again, safe in her mother’s arms, putting life on hold for as long as she could.
Chapter Ten
Ryan estimated he’d be back in Harper Springs in time for everyone to start waking up. He wanted to be there when Cecilia and Ty got up and possibly make them breakfast. If his wife got wind of him jaunting off on a random trip following Mike Rayburn, she’d be very upset with him, especially since he didn’t tell anyone where he was going. Not to mention the fact that he suspected his former Chief of something – he just wasn’t quite sure what it was yet.
The trek back would be fast if he kept moving. Checking over his shoulder every few feet, he wanted to make sure Rayburn wasn’t on his trail or had spotted him. So far so good but the next time he looked to the west, the sight behind him stopped him in his tracks.
Ducking low against a large boulder, Ryan’s heart skipped a beat. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. This couldn’t be happening, especially not so soon. A large squall line was fast approaching, coming over the top of the mountains. The sun normally was starting to come up by now but the dark clouds swirled, keeping the area under nightfall. It was kicking up dust beneath it – the thirsty ground was easily lifted by the wind. A wall of dirt formed, much like the one they had gotten caught in on their way to Fox Lake to find Cecilia’s parents.
Staying low, Ryan tried to watch as long as he could. He thought about running but it was coming so fast that there would be no outrunning it, even if he tried. He searched for a ravine or a low spot to hide but there wasn’t anything. The boulder would be the best thing to hopefully protect him for whatever the squall line had in store for him.
He watched on as long as he could. Dirt flew in, stinging his skin, painful against his face like a burn from a fire. He was scared to close his eyes – he wanted to make sure nothing would fly toward him but it was impossible. Along with the flying dust, the temperature fell drastically in a matter of seconds, the cold bearing down on him like a bucket of ice.
It wasn’t a typical fall temperature – there was no doubt that it dipped well below freezing. Ryan’s teeth chattered, his body completely unprotected from the sudden fluctuation in weather. His jeans and light jacket were no match for it. With the high winds, the wind chill made it feel like it was below zero. If he didn’t do something soon, he’d suffer from possible frostbite or hypothermia.
The dust was beginning to settle but the wind didn’t let up. Ryan slowly opened his eyes, getting his first look around him. The dark clouds continued to swirl overhead, growling like they were a monster ready to devour whatever stood in their way.
Rolling on his back, Ryan watched the anomaly overhead. He was awestruck by the beauty wrapped into the danger of the situation. It wasn’t tornadic so he didn’t have to worry about that but it was definitely dangerous. He was lucky the wind hadn’t done more.
And then the sleet began to fall, the tiny white balls of icy precipitation pelting him in the face. At first, he welcomed it. It was moisture that would help replenish vegetation and the river. He laid back and admired the show that Mother Nature was providing for him, lying flat on his back on the dusty ground. It was hypnotic, sending Ryan deep into a trance. The gray, black, and white swirls of the storm made it appear like a painting, touched by the hand of Michelangelo himself.
Snapping out of it, he sat up, realizing the reality of the situation. Sleet meant below freezing temperatures. Below freezing temperatures meant that vegetation would die. And they weren’t close to finishing the harvest yet.
Forcing himself to a standing position, Ryan ran, fighting against the wind and sleet that stung just as bad as the dust had a few minutes ago. The cold air was hard on his lungs and he felt the burn deep inside, his dry cough unproductive. Ignoring all of his body’s warnings to stop, he sprinted, weaving in and out of tree stumps and hills.
The sleet and wind continued, following him step for step. His muscles ached from the cold, his legs weak as he urged them to continue to move. He had no way of telling which way the storm was going or if it was even moving toward Harper Springs. The fact that it came out of the west was even more strange – usually, cold fronts flew in from the north, coming down from Canada, gaining momentum over middle America, and hitting their part of Texas before completely dying out.
Harper Springs was just over the next hill. Ryan grit his teeth and ran as fast as he could. The storm hadn’t let up, which meant that their small pasture was getting hit with the winter weather. If he got there fast and got help from some of the other men, he’d be able to salvage the vegetables and plants that already had produced. If this didn’t turn into a hard freeze, it might not do too much damage if they cou
ld find a way to get the plants covered up. If they could squeeze out a few more weeks off of them, that would help their surplus of food.
Running down the hill, he approached the pasture, skipping past it and onto the shelter. Pulling the door open, others were awake, but no one seemed to realize what was happening overhead. The sleet was about a half inch deep on the ground with no signs of stopping anytime soon.
“Steve!” Ryan spotted him and yelled down. “Steve, I need your help! Now!”
Everyone looked up at him but no one asked questions. Not only did Steve come up the stairs, but several other men joined them at ground-level. Ryan felt confident in knowing he had the help needed to get the work done. What was even more shocking was that no one had made a comment about the sudden turn in the weather. Instead, they all went to work, knowing exactly what they needed to accomplish.
Saving the plants and harvesting the vegetables was top priority. All of Ryan’s other worries were placed on the back burner temporarily.
Fighting the bitter cold that chilled him to the bone, Ryan pulled vegetables and fruit from plants, even if it wasn’t quite ready. It was better than nothing and the weather would kill it if they left it on the plant. Steve and another man carried light sheets to cover some of the more fragile plants but the wind was blowing hard enough that it would easily be blown off if they didn’t weigh it down.
Ryan grabbed some gravel from a nearby pile, thanking himself for stacking it nearby. It was rock he had found in the ground while tilling for the garden and at that time, he had no idea what he’d use it for, but now it’d serve a good purpose as weight to keep the covers on the plants.
“I don’t know if this will help but at least it’ll protect the plants from windburn,” Steve said, yelling over the loud roar of the wind.
