by Steven Bird
“He’s still asleep,” she said sheepishly. “He’s not slept in days. I’d really rather not wake him. He’s not been feeling well lately.”
“Is he ill?” Jessie asked.
“I think he’s just tired. Tired of it all,” she said in a humble voice.
Pausing to think about the situation and if it was a ruse, Jessie could sense sincerity in the girl’s voice, “Wait right there. I’ll be right down.”
Climbing down from the loft with his rifle slung across his back, Jessie walked over to the barn’s double doors, removed the board he was using as a barricade, and partially opened it to get a view of the barnyard before proceeding outside. Flicking on his weapon-mounted flashlight, he scanned the surrounding area, and said, “It looks clear. Come on out.”
“You’ve got batteries?” she said, seeming to be surprised.
“Rechargeables. I’ve got a few small solar panels that were designed to keep boat and RV batteries up when not in use. They work great for charging my rechargeable flashlight batteries. They’re not holding a charge like they used to, but for now, they do the job.”
Escorting Cindy into the barnyard, Jessie said, “Go right over there. I’ll stand here with my back to you while you go. If you see or hear anything, let me know.”
Nodding in the affirmative, Cindy slipped off into the darkness beside the barn. After a few moments, she came back into the light of the moon in the barnyard and said, “Okay. All done.”
As she turned to walk back inside, they both heard the howl of a lone wolf off in the distance, causing them to momentarily pause. “See what I mean?” Jessie said. “Let’s get back inside.”
~~~~
Early the next morning as the sun rose over the mountains, Jessie sat at his window, watching his favorite event unfold with the awe of a true naturalist. He desperately craved a hot cup of chicory, which had become his morning ritual, but opted to let Mark and Cindy sleep as long as they could, knowing they needed the rest. Since he had made their bed by the stove, there was no way he could brew his morning treat without disturbing them, so he just deferred his craving until later.
Shortly after the sun was fully over the horizon, he heard rustling down below. Looking over the side of the loft to the barn floor, he noticed that Mark and Cindy were both up. Mark sat on the floor leaning against the wall with Cindy sitting sideways in his lap, her arms around his neck. Jessie found himself lost in the moment. He could see the true comfort Cindy felt being in her father’s arms and the peace Mark seemed to have just having her to hold. Jessie ached for a chance to once again hold his children in such a loving embrace.
As a tear began to roll down his cheek, Jessie snapped out of his sorrows, and said, “Good morning, down there.”
“Good morning, up there,” Mark replied, looking up at Jessie. Cindy also turned and gazed up with a smile. “I think that’s the first full night’s sleep I’ve gotten in as long as I can remember.”
“Give me a moment or two and I’ll be right down,” Jessie replied. Once he got himself together, Jessie climbed down the ladder and said, “Breakfast won’t be bacon and eggs, but I do have some instant oatmeal.”
“You must have had a fairly well-stocked pantry before it all began to fall apart if you still have instant oatmeal,” Mark replied.
“Being way up here in the mountains we tended to buy in bulk,” Jessie answered. “Besides, in the mid-winter months, our roads aren’t very passable. My old F-150 out behind the barn could barely make it to town even with four-wheel drive when the winter was at its worst. With that and the apparent fragility the state of things were at the time, we tended to overbuy, which I am now very thankful for. In the quantities we bought, we knew shelf life would be an issue, so we used mylar bags and oxygen absorbers in construction-style buckets, along with vacuum sealers to help our bulk items stay fresh longer. Again, something for which I am now very thankful.”
“It’s almost like you knew this was all going to happen,” Mark said.
“The funny thing is, I did,” Jessie replied. Seeing the confused look on Mark’s face, he explained, “Well, I didn’t exactly know things were going to happen, but the way things were going, I just had a bad feeling. We used to live down in Cortez, but moved up here to get away from it all. It was more than just a bad feeling of the state of the world.”
“I wish I had your foresight,” Mark said regrettably. “I kept telling myself it would all blow over and get better. The things that happened in the rest of the world always just seemed like something for the evening news, and weren’t things we could see happening in our own reality. Boy, was I wrong.”
“You didn’t do too bad,” Jessie replied. “You had that motorhome, and you had the brains to make it this long.”
“Yeah, but I shouldn’t have let my wife—ˮ
“Don’t blame yourself for that,” Jessie interrupted. “There was no way you could have known, or could have foreseen the extent of what was about to happen. Besides, you were smart to keep your daughter with you at the motorhome while your wife went into Denver. I mean, you obviously didn’t know the extent of what was about to happen, but if you’d all gone into the city together, well, you know.”
“I see your point, but there’s not a day goes by when I don’t rethink every decision I’ve made,” added Mark.
Kicking a rock on the ground, thinking about how he and Mark had a lot in common on a basic human level, Jessie said, “Me, too. Trust me. Me, too. But here we are.”
“Yep, here we are. So, what can I do to repay you for last night?”
“What do you mean?”
“For room and board. We owe you for taking us in. Especially considering the situation in which we met.”
With a chuckle under his breath, Jessie replied, “Yeah, that could have been a close one. I’ll make you a deal.”
“A deal?” Mark inquired.
“If you tell me everything you know about the state of the world out there, you can stay here on a night-by-night basis. If you just help me keep an eye out for other trespassers and put in a hard day’s work to earn your supper while Cindy helps me tend to the sheep, we’ll call it even. If you give me any reason not to trust you, though, well, I simply won’t put up with being double-crossed. You’ll find yourself back in the cold—or worse. Understood?
Caught by surprise by Jessie’s overly generous offer, Mark said, “Are you sure? We’d hate to wear out our welcome. I already feel like an intruder here.”
Looking off to the side as if to gather his thoughts, Jessie said, “Yeah. I’m sure. After what happened, I’ve not been myself. Some days I’ve barely been clinging to sanity. Having you two around, if it works out, would be a big help. But like I said, we’ll take things on a night-by-night basis.”
Reaching out to shake Jessie’s hand, Mark said, “Anything we can do, just let us know.”
“Great!” Jessie replied, taking Mark’s hand. “I’ll get breakfast going and we can talk more afterward.”
~~~~
After a generous helping of instant peaches and cream oatmeal, Jessie asked Cindy to keep an eye on the sheep in the barn while he showed Mark the lay of the land. Once clear of the barn, Jessie asked, “So what’s going on down there?”
“I don’t know how much I can tell you,” replied Mark. “I’m assuming you know about all of the attacks on our infrastructure and the accusations from every direction about who was complicit and who was simply asleep at the wheel? The biowarfare? The bombings? The poisoning of municipal water supplies? The crash of numerous major computer systems due to hacking? And the physical conflict between the UN troops sent as peacekeepers and the local militia types?”
“Yeah. I got that much. I used to listen to the radio reports every day. I’m more interested in the security situation on the ground in the local area. What’s the day-to-day for the average Joe just trying to get somewhere?”
“Well, there are still plenty of good people out there, but there
are just as many who aren’t so good anymore. Hunger and desperation can get the best of people. Heck, the family that stole our motorhome might have made fine neighbors before it all went down, as far as I know. Anyway, fuel is hard to come by since the refineries were all hit. The only vehicles you see out and about on a regular basis are government types. Mostly military, DHS, or UN. People steer clear of them, generally speaking, as they have some pretty broad authority given the declaration of a state of emergency and the executive orders issued by the president. Most people find it prudent to avoid contact with them altogether and simply let them move about freely with little interaction. If you’re in a private vehicle, however, you’ll be a target for anyone with eyes on your fuel and provisions.”
“And law enforcement?” Jessie asked.
“Outside of the protection of government assets, you won’t see much, and the bad guys know it. It’s pretty rough out there. No one can call 911 and without the threat of law enforcement coming to the rescue, well, let’s just say the bad guys know they have free rein. Most of the country’s communication and power infrastructure is still down. Even if you could call, what few police assets that remain wouldn’t respond. They’re on guard duty and don’t really answer calls or patrol for crime. There are also very few veteran police officers left. When the attacks started, a good number of them were killed trying to defend their cities and towns. They were caught up in all the mess that everyone else was, only they were intentionally and selflessly on the front lines. Many more officers abandoned their posts to protect their own families. I can’t say that I blame them, either. The ones who stayed had very little support, as most of the remaining government assets not directly involved in the fighting were busy protecting the government facilities, the bureaucrats, and their families. What few of them that remain on the job just can’t handle it all. Many of whom are new recruits, barely trained and paid in food rations and behind-the-fence shelter for their families.”
“Behind the fence?” Jessie asked.
“FEMA had set up camps in the more secure locations. They are heavily guarded and receive supplies from the remaining government stockpiles. Those won’t last forever, though, as there really isn’t anything being produced right now. Because of that, access to the camps is limited.”
“That’s funny,” Jessie replied.
“What’s funny?”
“People always used to joke that FEMA camps would be used to lock people in, not out,” he answered.
With a half-hearted chuckle, Mark said, “Oh, those are there, too.” He continued, “I have seen a few farms attempting to get up and running again, but they’re raided so often by looters and refugees desperate for food that they don’t stand much of a chance.”
Scratching his chin, trying to take it all in, Jessie listened as Mark continued, “The organized criminal element is also becoming a huge problem. Gangs, drug cartels, and your basic thug types operate unimpeded. The collapse of civility has emboldened them to the point that the violence of pre-collapse Mexico looks tame compared to how they conduct their daily business today. Long story short—there’s a reason Cindy and I were heading for the hills.”
“What about airspace?” Jessie asked.
“Shut down from what I’ve heard. Whether they have the assets to enforce it, that is another story, of course.”
“Is there any hope that the government will get things under control soon?” Jessie asked.
“Therein lies the problem,” Mark explained. “The population was so fed up with the corrupt, inept, and complicit government before everything fell apart, no one trusts anyone anymore. Especially considering the fact that those who pulled their strings also pulled the strings of those who initiated the attacks. The only sort of government or law enforcement presence that anyone has any faith in these days is the local citizen militias who’ve stood up to protect their own communities. But even some of them have let the power go to their heads.”
“That’s to be expected, I guess,” Jessie replied. “If people think no one is watching, it’s easy to let things get out of control. You know, Lord of the Flies type stuff.”
“That’s been the story of humanity from the beginning,” Mark said in agreement. “Add to all of that the fact that there are groups who want to rebuild in the name of a one-world government on one side and those who are willing to fight a war to re-establish America to its former glory on the other, and it’s just no place for children. The horrors we watched others go through around the world on television, from the safety and comfort of our air-conditioned suburban homes, is now right in our own neighborhoods.”
Jessie shook his head in silence as he absorbed everything Mark was saying. “And to think we shifted our food production from local family-owned farms to mega factory-farms, leaving us unable to adequately produce what we need locally. Heck, the same could be said for our manufacturing, I guess.”
“I’m sure there is a lot going on out there, especially the global big picture, that I don’t have a clue about. All I know is what I have seen and heard, but the one thing I am confident about is that society is lost and I have to keep my daughter safe. She’s all I have left in this world, which is why we stumbled across you.”
“Speaking of that, heading into the mountains in the onset of winter might have gotten her killed. The mountains can be unforgiving if you get caught out in the weather.”
“It was a chance we had to take. Something has been telling me, from deep down inside, that I needed to get her up in the mountains where we could be safe while things got straightened out.”
Stopping to look around at what once was his beloved homestead, Jessie said, “That’s ironic. Something has been telling me to leave.”
Chapter Fourteen
Over the next several months, the Walkers stayed on with Jessie, who they still only knew as J.T., and helped him prepare for and work through the harsh winter. Jessie and Mark would rotate the duties of collecting firewood and gathering food with that of security, while Cindy tended to Jessie’s remaining sheep. The deep snow and impassable road conditions had kept them safe and secure from any outside threats during the winter months, allowing each of them to begin the process of healing from the emotional scars they had all suffered.
Cindy seemed to be a natural shepherd. The animals gave a sense of structure and balance to her life, which was something she desperately needed. Against Jessie’s better judgment, knowing where some of them were destined, he allowed her to name each of the sheep. Even Lobo had taken a liking to her, following Cindy around like a dog.
Over time, Jessie and Mark utilized scrap wood from around the property, making Mark and Cindy a proper living space in one of the stalls near the wood stove by adding a floor and finishing the walls of the stall all the way to the ceiling. This gave Mark and Cindy a feeling of permanence and security, which was what they had both prayed for since their journey had begun.
With signs of spring’s early arrival all around them, excitement was in the air. Mark and Cindy, now completely comfortable with their simple mountain life, both felt that the oncoming spring would bring new beginnings for them.
~~~~
Waking to the chill of a cold, clear morning, with the sunlight beginning to shine through the gaps in the old barn’s plank walls, Cindy left her father sleeping while she went to add wood to the glowing embers in the old wood stove. Not only did she want to warm the space up a bit, but she also wished to get a head start on breakfast. She wanted to surprise both her father and Jessie with fresh eggs as the three remaining hens had once again started laying.
As she added a few pieces of split firewood to the old wood stove and stoked the coals, she noticed the absence of rustling in Brave’s stall. Brave would normally greet whoever awoke first with a few snorts to get their attention, but this morning, she heard nothing but silence.
Walking over to the horse stall to investigate, Cindy found Jack, the pack-horse, standing alone. Brave was simply not ther
e. In a panic, she ran to the center of the barn, looked up to the loft where Jessie slept, and shouted, “J.T! J.T! Brave is gone! He’s missing!”
Hearing no reply, she began frantically climbing the ladder to the loft as her father awoke, and in a startled voice, asked, “Cindy! What’s going on?”
“Brave is gone, Daddy! Brave is gone!” she yelled as she scurried up the ladder. To her dismay, she found Jessie’s bed neatly made with a note and a cigar box lying on top of his old, hole-ridden blankets. She sat down on Jessie’s makeshift straw bed and picked up the note as her father joined her in the loft.
“What’s going on? Where is he?” Mark asked.
Fearing what it might say, she turned and handed the note to her father, who slowly took it from her hand, and opened it. As he sat down beside her on the bed, he began reading the letter aloud,
“Dear Mark and Cindy,
I thank God every day that you stumbled across my little homestead in the mountains during both your time of need and mine. When you arrived, I was at the lowest point in my life. I simply did not have the will to go on in this world. Your companionship helped me to make it through the winter as well as helping me to push aside the demons that still haunt me to this day, giving me hope for the future. Hope for what? That I do not know. I only know that whatever lies out there in this world for me is not on this mountain, so I must go find it.
I have a sister that I haven’t spoken to in years that I have set out to find. I do not plan to return, and even if I did, the likelihood that I would actually make it back would be low. Considering that, I would like to give you both a few things:
First, my homestead. Inside the cigar box you will find the deed to my property, as well as a detailed letter to whomever may be responsible for the administration of such things in the future, explaining how I left the property to both of you to do with as you wish as the rightful and legal owners. Who knows if any such future administrator will honor my decree in the absence of legal proceedings, but I pray they will.
