Unrest

by Wendy Higgins

  “It hurts worse today,” she whispered. Shit, shit, shit.

  “I want you to drink as much water as you can,” I told her. “And wash yourself well.”

  “I just did,” she said. “I mean, as well as I could. I used the last of the handiwipes I had in my purse. I’m out of clean underwear though. I really need to be able to wash clothes.” We both frowned, because that was a problem. It was hard to stay clean without any water.

  “The sooner we can get to Dugway, the better,” I muttered.

  “Let’s just hope it’s okay there,” she said. “And it’s not a trick.”

  Those words hung between us. Remy shivered and hugged herself. She watched as I fixed the last of our food. Sean helped me pass it out. We all ate too quickly, and a terrifying sense of urgency overcame me. We were officially out of food.

  When we finished, sweat shone lightly on Remy’s forehead.

  “You should get water and go lay down in the car until it’s time to go.”

  “I can help clean—”

  “No, please, Rem. I need you to rest.”

  She looked toward the guys. “I don’t want them to know. It’s gross.” She scuffed her heel into the dirt.

  “I’ll tell them you’re not feeling well. They don’t need to know the details. And you’re not gross.” Or, rather, we were all gross. “Take some ibuprofen in the car.” I nudged her arm and gave her a gentle shove to send her on her way, then I joined the guys.

  Tater looked at me as he rolled the tent, and then he looked around for Remy.

  “What’s wrong with her?” he asked.

  “She’s not feeling well,” I said. “I sent her to go lay down. I want her to take it easy.”

  All of the guys’ foreheads furrowed with worry.

  “She’s sick?” Texas Harry asked.

  “I think she has a low grade fever. Maybe a bug. I’ll keep an eye on her.”

  “What do we do if she gets worse?” Matt asked. “What if she needs antibiotics?”

  “Sometimes infections can run their course and be flushed out by the immune system without meds. We’ll have to wait and see.” I knew better than anyone that untreated UTIs could make a person violently ill. I prayed it wouldn’t come to that.

  Tater shoved his tent into his bag and stood, heaving it up under his arm. “Let’s get moving.”

  Everyone picked up armloads of things to pack away. Most everything went in the back of our vehicle since their van was filled with, well, them. Once Tater piled stuff inside, he opened the back door. I thought he was opening it for me, but he leaned in and brushed the hair back from Remy’s forehead. She reached up and put her hand on his. Then Tater was climbing in and lifting Remy’s head to his lap. I blinked back my shock.

  “She’s burning up and shivering,” he said, rubbing a hand down her arm. He looked over his shoulder and called out to Rylen. “C’mon, man, let’s go.”

  I guess I was sitting up front.

  I went around, nearly colliding with Rylen at the back of the car. He gave my disgusting ponytail a quick tug in passing, and then we were climbing in.

  “Welcome to the front seat,” he said in a low voice. Rylen cranked the heat to high and a shiver overcame me as the warmth hit my numb cheeks. We buckled and he began carefully navigating his way back out of the thick trees.

  I turned and looked at Remy. Her cheeks and eyelids were colorless, but I was glad to see she was falling asleep. The crease between Tater’s eyes would not go away.

  “She’ll be okay,” I promised him. He continued smoothing back her hair.

  When I turned to face front again I found Ry watching me, eyebrow raised, as if asking if I were okay too. I gave him a small nod, though I really wanted to lay my head down in his lap like Remy was doing with Tater. Lately I felt exhausted just from the overwhelming amount of alertness required of us.

  When the vehicle was heated, we turned the heat all the way down to conserve gas. I put my feet up on the dash and let my eyes peer around, through the trees on one side, and along the dusty hills on the other.

  “How close are we?” I asked.

  “Two hundred miles,” Ry said. “Maybe less.”

  That wasn’t so bad. We could make that. I felt a fraction lighter, able to take a deep cleansing breath and let it out slowly.

  I took stealthy peeks at Rylen in my peripheral vision as he drove. He seemed lost in thought, but not happy thoughts. His jaw was set, and his forearms flexed as his hands gripped the steering wheel. I probably stared too long at those forearms and his rugged, strong hands, but I couldn’t help it. I still couldn’t believe those hands had never touched his wife, Livia. As jealous as I’d been, I now felt sad for them. I guess it was easy to feel that way in retrospect, now that she was gone. But gone or not, he still felt off-limits. I wondered how long it would take before I was allowed to think he was sexy without feeling guilty.

  I straightened my eyes to peer forward through the windshield. After a while I looked back and saw Tater’s head leaned back, his eyes closed. The sight of him and Remy both sleeping made me relax a little. They’d both tossed and turned last night in the tent. I glanced at Rylen’s lost expression.

  “I asked the other guys about their families,” I said carefully. “How about you? With your mom?”

  His jaw rocked from side to side. He reached up and tugged his earlobe. “After Thanksgiving, I drove out with Liv to check on her and introduce them.” His mom was an alcoholic who’d moved in with her sister two towns over when Ry’s dad kicked her out. “She kept going on and on about how the welfare office was closed and she couldn’t get her check. She hardly heard me when I introduced Liv. And . . .” He made a nervous sound and tapped the steering wheel. “She thought Liv was you. She kept calling her ‘the neighbor girl.’ We didn’t stay long.”

  My gut churned. “She wasn’t happy when she thought you married me, was she?”

  He huffed. “Doesn’t matter. She doesn’t know what she was saying. I left her some food I’d brought, and some money. I never saw her after that.”

  I swallowed down the sick feeling.

  We drove the next two hours in silence. My brother had woken after an hour, but Remy slept on. Before, we would have blasted music, and God knows Tater would have run his mouth the entire time. But not anymore. Every time I looked back at him, his face was a hard mask of remembrance.

  Remy woke sweating, which told me her fever had broken for now. Tater felt her head and frowned at me.

  “I feel better,” Remy said. She smoothed back her hair, which was damp around her face and frizzy in the back.

  I forced a smile and faced forward again. In two more hours the fever would be back. And it would keep coming back between doses, worse and worse.

  Rylen eyed me from the side. “Don’t suppose we can GPS the nearest pharmacy,” he said without humor.

  I crossed my arms and bit the pad of my thumb. Then I made the mistake of looking at the gas gauge. We were down to just under a quarter tank. I turned my face to the window and exhaled loudly. No food. No gas. No antibiotics. The direness of our situation crashed down on me and a tremor of panic shot down my spine.

  “Hey,” Rylen whispered. His warm hand landed on my arm, and the heat of his touch covered my cold anxiety for a moment. “We’ll work something out. We’ll get there.” I put my hand over his, and our fingers reached, twining, holding. He didn’t let go. He drove with one hand on the wheel, the other holding mine. It didn’t mean anything—I knew it didn’t—but it felt so intimate and non-brotherly. I would never hold hands with Tater like this. What did it mean? I was too nervous to look over at Rylen.

  We kept driving until the gas light came on and Rylen abruptly let go to flick the headlights at Devon. This shook me from my romantic stupor. There weren’t any turnoffs in sight, so we slowly made our way across a sea of dirt toward Route 15, the main road where we could find exits. Tense silence filled the car.

  “Last chance for g
as,” Rylen said. “If we can find some here, we’ll be there by tonight. If we can’t . . . we’re walking.”

  “Oh, no,” Remy whispered. She sat up, and Tater pulled away from her, putting distance between them. It was like now that she was awake and alert he didn’t feel like he could touch her.

  “No worries.” Rylen said.

  “How far is it?” she asked.

  “I don’t know. Maybe thirty miles?”

  Tater gave a forced nonchalant shrug. “Like a marathon. People do it all the time.”

  I met Remy’s eyes and felt our matching doubt. We were not marathoners. Especially not in a Utah winter with one of us suffering from an infection.

  We bounced our way onto Route 15 and took the next dusty exit, which had a sign for one off-brand gas station. My nerves were shot by the time we pulled up and surveyed the area. The shop was tiny, not an actual shop at all, but a booth where you could walk up to pay. It didn’t look like it’d been broken into, which was hopeful. Two old-time pumps sat in front of the booth.

  “Stay here,” Tater told us as we came to a stop and he jumped out. Cold air rushed in, and I crossed my arms. Rylen opened his door a crack so we could listen, but he stayed behind the wheel.

  “Dude,” I heard Texas Harry say. “We just barely rolled in. I thought we were gonna have to push the van.”

  “Us too,” Ry said.

  “Please,” Remy whispered. I turned to see her pressing her clasped hands to her forehead, eyes closed. “Let this work.”

  Devon broke the glass to the booth. He and Texas Harry pushed their way inside while Tater and Matt looked around the outside. Devon broke into a cheer of laughter. His hand came up holding packets of something.

  “Peanuts, baby! Boo-yah!” he sang in his booming voice. “And Gatorade!” But he said it like GA-TO-RADE, each syllable accented with joy.

  Remy and I smiled, and my mouth watered.

  “Yeah, boy,” Texas Harry yelled now. “Corn Nuts and Combos. We done hit someone’s mother lode stash!”

  Whoever they were was probably taken before they had a chance to go back for it.

  “I don’t see nothing that looks like a generator, though.” Texas Harry stepped out and let Matt in to look around. As he circled the small space, touching things and shaking his head, my excitement began to dissipate.

  “Oh, no,” Remy whispered. “Amber, I really don’t know if I can do this.”

  “I know,” I whispered back, clutched by dread.

  After a few more minutes of practically turning the place upside down, Tater sent our vehicle a firm, disappointed look, and shook his head.

  Remy made a small sound of disbelief. I looked back at her, trying to stay strong even when I wanted to freak out. I glanced down the barren road with its hills and shrubs and distant mountains that seemed to stretch on forever. No part of me wanted to be out there.

  “We can do this,” I said, as much for myself as her. “We’ll all take care of each other. Maybe the fresh air will be good for us.”

  I expected her to call my bullshit, but she nodded, her eyes panicked. “Okay.”

  All at once the guys were back at the vehicles, opening the back ends, getting their packs together. This was really happening. I got out with Remy, trying to be strong for both of us. Of all the things we’d been through since Thanksgiving, this scared the crap out of me most because of our lack of resources. If we had food, water, gloves, hats, and freaking snowsuits I might have felt more positive about a thirty-mile trek.

  I took a deep breath and shook out my arms. We had no choice. We had to keep going, and this was the only way.

  Tater and Rylen opened their bags.

  “We need to bundle up,” Rylen said. “As many layers as we can put on—especially you two.”

  Remy and I took out all of our shirts, about three each, and pulled them on.

  “Hey,” Tater called out to the guys at the van. “If any of you got extra clothes for the girls, toss ‘em over.”

  Rylen took out the remaining trash bags and told us to put them on our legs under our socks and shoes so our feet wouldn’t get wet if it rained or snowed. The plastic was crinkly and uncomfortable, but we did as told.

  New York Josh came over with a pair of warm looking Army gloves, and handed them to Remy.

  “You’ll need these,” she said to him.

  “Nah, I’m used to cold. Plus, I got a decent jacket and sweatshirt. I’ll be a’ight.”

  She gave him a small smile. “Thank you so much.”

  He nodded and jogged off. I caught Tater eyeing the scene, but he nodded down to the gloves. “Put ‘em on, Rem.” She did, and he handed her a pair of his fitted sweats to pull on over her leggings, which were lumpy from the plastic bags. She rolled them three times at the waist.

  Tall Mark gave me a long-sleeved camo shirt. I put it on over my thin sweatshirt. I let his shirt hang past my fingertips. Remy and I doubled up on socks and I put two pairs over my hands.

  “Here you go.” Sean handed me a navy blue sweatshirt with ARMY in yellow—a real sweatshirt—thick with a hood.

  I looked to make sure he was wearing a coat before I took it and thanked him profusely. I cinched the hood of the sweatshirt so only a round part of my face was showing.

  “Pep.” I looked down at Ry, who was digging through his bag. “Those jeans are too thin.” He held up a gray pair of his physical training, PT, sweats, and I took them gratefully, resisting the urge to see if they smelled like him. I pulled them on and rolled them at the waist, then tucked the bottoms as much as I could into my sneakers. That completed my clown look, and I felt as warm as I was going to get.

  Mark grinned when he saw me, and I had an urge to laugh hysterically. I must have looked ridiculous. But I wasn’t alone. Some of the guys had track pants tied around their heads and necks to keep them warm.

  The next step was to pack as much stuff as possible into our duffle bags and backpacks. The guys were super efficient at this. My bag was already filled with essentials: bathroom stuff, over-the-counter meds and first aid kit, plus my extra undies. Devon came over and shoved two Gatorade bottles into my netted side pouches. Then he gave me a wink and I threw him a thumbs-up as I pulled the heavy pack onto my back and adjusted the straps.

  Remy and I faced each other. What I wouldn’t have given for a camera phone at that moment. She had someone’s cotton shirt around her ears and neck like a scarf. Her backpack was the same size as mine, and I think they’d put all of the snacks and a sleeping bag in hers.

  The guys’ duffles were filled to the max. Not a single thing was being left behind except an empty propane canister. Tater shut the back end and stared at the car for a minute before giving it a salute. I kissed my fingertips and touched the window.

  Bye, Daddy’s car.

  “Let’s go,” Tater said hoarsely. I turned with my head down before I could think too much about it.

  Remy and I linked arms. “You feel okay?” I asked her.

  She nodded.

  “Let me know if you feel the fever coming back.” She nodded again. Her lack of verbalization showed how nervous she was.

  I looked up and found Rylen watching me questioningly. I gave him a nod and as much of a smile as I could muster. His returning nod and stare made me flush with heat as I thought about holding his hand in the car.

  “Heidi-ho, y’all,” Texas Harry said. “We’re off to see the wizard.” With that, he set off, and we followed.

  “One mile,” Short Matt said after ten minutes passed.

  “Two miles,” he said after twenty-two minutes tramping through the dirt.

  “What the hell, man?” Tater said. “You got a FitBit or some shit?”

  “Yeah.” He held up his wrist to show a black band, and everyone laughed. “Doc recommended it when I gained a few pounds last year.” He patted his belly, which didn’t have much fat on it these days.

  By mile three I was actually starting to feel hot, except for my nose
and cheeks which were numb with cold. And by mile four my legs were starting to turn to jelly. Remy began to slow next to me. She kept her head down.

  “You okay?” I whispered.

  It took her a few seconds to answer, and then it was through shivering, panting breaths. “I don’t . . . want . . . to stop.” I grasped her arm to stop her and tore the socks from my hand. Her face burned my hand. I gritted my teeth against a curse.

  “Guys,” I called out. “One sec.” Everyone stopped and turned to surround us as I dug out the ibuprofen and opened a bottle of Gatorade.

  She took the meds with a shaking hand and looked up with bags under her eyes. “I’m sorry, guys.”

  “Her fever is back,” I explained.

  “I can keep going,” she said weakly. And I knew she would try, but it would not end up well. Tater peered at her. His eyes went to Officer Sean, the only guy without a huge duffle. He’d been carrying the camping stove and lantern, along with his small tent in a backpack.

  “Can you carry my pack?” Tater asked.

  “Of course,” Sean said without hesitation.

  Remy watched with confusion as all of the guys began re-distributing weight, and then her eyes got big when Tater approached her.

  “What’s going on?” she asked.

  “You’ll ride on my back.”

  Her eyes shot to me and I nodded.

  “No way, Jacob, I’ll break your back.”

  He rolled his eyes. “This is no time to be girly. Give your pack to Amber.”

  She didn’t move, so I reached out and took the strap, pulling it off her. I pushed my arms through so that I carried it on my chest. Ugh. I felt like I weighed a thousand pounds. I let out a deep, shuddering breath. You can do this.

  “Please, guys.” Her pleas were pitiful, and I knew she was embarrassed.

  “It’s okay,” I whispered. “Just ‘till your fever breaks and you feel good enough to walk again.”

  She swallowed and blinked back tears. Tater backed up to her and raised her hands to his shoulders. After a few seconds of hesitation, she jumped. He caught her under the thighs and she wrapped her legs around his waist, linking her ankles in front. Her arms went around his shoulders and crossed in front of his chest. She looked stiff.