“You ready?” asked Richard.
“Let’s get some water; I’m ready to start drinking my piss. I’m that thirsty.”
“OK, move at a nice, steady pace. Focus on moving forward with as much efficiency as you can, using the least amount of muscle power. Breathe through your nose and keep your mouth shut. Don’t talk unless it’s totally necessary.”
“Why, do I bore you or something? Telling me to shut up?” Tank teased.
“You know how much I enjoy our little talks, but talking uses more lung power and dries your mouth out quicker. Also stops you from breathing through your nose. Your nose is a much better filter than your mouth.”
“Okay, got it. Let’s get moving.”
The two men headed out in the direction of the stream. Richard stopped a few times to pick up brush and dead vegetation to use in a fire. After they’d been walking for a few hours they finally made it to the riverbed.
It was bone dry.
“Shit! What the fuck, Richard? Thought there was water in this mother fucker!”
“Take it easy! There’s water, I’m positive. We just have to follow the riverbed up a ways before we get to it.”
They followed the riverbed for two hours and never saw so much as a drop of water. The sun was high in the sky; it was fast approaching noon. The temperature increased with every hour as the sun got higher in the sky. When the noon day sun was overhead, it was scorching hot. Richard had hoped they would make it to the water before sun got too hot. He had wanted to set up the shelter so they could get out of the sun and rest up for their night walking. By mid-afternoon, it would be pushing one hundred and twenty degrees; they didn’t have a choice, they had to build a makeshift shelter and wait it out.
“We have to stop.”
“Stop where? There a Holiday Inn around here I don’t know about?”
“No, Billy. We have to get out of this sun for a few hours and rest.”
“Fuck off, smartass. You really building us a house from your bag of tricks?”
“Well, maybe not a house, thinking more like a nice little cabin.”
“Can’t wait to see this.”
Richard began constructing the makeshift shelter from the many supplies they’d carried up the mountain. The upholstery cut from the SUV along with bed sheets made an excellent roof when propped up with sticks. The duo managed to avoid laying on the hot riverbed by using the windbreaker, vest, and extra clothing as “carpet.” It was rustic, but functional.
“Well I’ll be a son of a bitch. I think this might just be my new summer home.” Tank clapped Richard on the back and smiled.
“Okay, let’s get in there and rest up if we’re gonna walk through the night.”
“You sure this isn’t a waste of time? We’re grown-ass men. I think we can stand a little heat.”
“It’s just not the smart thing to do. In a couple of hours it’s gonna get about ten or fifteen degrees hotter, and we can’t afford to lose the amount of fluid it would take to move in this heat. The water in this riverbed could be thirty minutes away or it could be two hours away. We could pass out from heat stroke and die before we get to it.”
“Okay, if you say so.”
The two fugitives climbed under the shelter and enjoyed the shade for the next few hours. Richard estimated that the temperature was close to a hundred and twenty degrees. The temperature under the shelter felt twenty degrees cooler. A very slight breeze managed to circulate into the shelter, leaving them quite comfortable. Neither could fall asleep, but they were able to relax their weary bodies and regain their strength. Richard looked outside and studied the sun. It would be dipping below the horizon soon. It was time to get moving.
“Let’s go. We’ll split the bottle of Gatorade and each drink a bottle of water. We also need to eat something before we set out.”
“I’m starving! Let’s split the beef jerky.”
“No, we need to save that for later.”
“Why?”
“In this situation it’s bad to eat a lot of protein. Your body has to work harder to digest it and you need to drink more water to do it. We need to eat other foods that have carbs and salt — carbs for energy and salt to replenish what you’ve lost while sweating.”
“So you’re a survival expert and a fucking nutritionist? Anything you don’t know?”
“C’mon, start eating. We need to get moving.”
Richard took out two packages of spam and a box of saltine crackers.
“Thought we couldn’t have protein?”
“Spam has twice as much fat as it does protein. Beef jerky has twice the protein as spam.”
“Seriously, are you a fucking nutritionist? Jesus!”
“No, it says so on the label.”
“You’re so smart you piss me off sometimes.”
“If you want to run things the rest of the way, be my guest.”
“Fuck you, asshole.”
“C’mon, time to start walking. Same routine as this morning.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
The two men packed up their gear and starting walking down the riverbed. The sun was beginning to set and the temperature dropped significantly. An hour and a half after they set out, they finally found the water they’d been searching for.
“You’re not seriously suggesting we drink that.”
“Yeah, we’re drinking it. No choice.”
“That’s not water, Richard. It’s slime.”
“Not for long it won’t be.”
“I knew you’d say some shit like that. Is this gonna kick more ass than the shelter?”
“Probably.”
“Can’t wait to see this.”
They dropped their gear by the riverbed and began collecting large river rocks. They had to pad their hands with tshirts to keep from burning them on the hot rocks. Richard piled them into a pyramid and added his collection of sticks and dead vegetation to the stack. Then he laid out all the excess laundry they’d stolen from the prison and decided to use half of it on the fire. Once the fire was going, Richard took the half full windshield wiper tank and filled it the rest of the way with the slimy water. Next, he placed the tank on an impromptu tri-pod made of sticks and cord.
“So, the fire is going to cook away all the slime and shit?”
“Not all of it, no. The rest we need to run through a filter.”
“Oh, now I get why we took the air filter out of the SUV.”
“Yeah, that’s part of it.”
Richard brought the liquid to a boil, and then removed it from the heat. He continued to let the fire burn down until it went out. While he waited for that, he took out the folding knife and cut the tops off two out of the four twenty ounce water bottles they had brought along for the trip, filling one with sand and the other with charcoal from the fire. After using the folding knife to cut holes in the bottom of each water bottle, Richard placed the empty Gatorade bottle on the ground. As Tank held the makeshift sand and charcoal filters, one on top of the other, Richard slowly poured the slimy water through them and into the larger bottle.
“I can’t fucking believe it. That looks like water out of a faucet,” said Tank.
“Drink up, next one is mine.”
They repeated the process several times until they’d both consumed a gallon of water. Once they’d emptied their bladders, they repeated the process and drank until their stomachs were so full they couldn’t drink another drop. After refilling the Gatorade and water bottles with clean water, they did the same with the wiper fluid tank and fashioned it into a backpack with cordage from the rope. Tank gladly volunteered to carry the one and a half gallon tank of drinking water. They walked through the night, stopping to get some rest a few hours before dawn. A few hours later they set out again, and when the noonday sun was directly overhead, they rebuilt their primitive shelter and waited out the scorching heat. When the sun was low enough in the sky, they set out again with one looming problem — Tank’s eye. It was nearly swollen shut and
leaking a fetid pus. Tank walked much slower than he had the day before, and they had to stop several times to wait for the pain to subside.
Around midnight they came across an abandoned gas station that had obviously been empty for a very long time. Richard and Tank entered the condemned building like it was a four star hotel. Richard cleaned out the office as best he could as Tank laid down on the desk.
“Hold still. Let me see your eye.”
Richard took the dirty bandage from Tank’s head and inspected the infected and swollen eye.
“Billy, I have to do something about your eye. You’re not getting any better.”
“What are you gonna do?”
“Well, I’m gonna get a fire going and boil some water so I can sanitize one of the tshirts to use as a bandage. I’ll sterilize the knife as well.”
“Hurry up and do it before I change my mind.”
Richard found a small metal bucket and filled it with the water. He started a fire outside with some old cardboard boxes. Once the water was boiling, he cut a shirt in half and dropped it in to boil for a few minutes. Not wanting to waste the water, he dropped the knife into the Gatorade bottle and set it in the boiling water. Richard walked back into the office and had to wake up Tank again. “You ready?”
“Ready as I’ll ever be.”
“Hold still, Billy, this is gonna hurt. A lot.”
“Hurry the fuck up! Shit! Just do it already!”
Richard cleaned the area around his eye as best he could with hand sanitizer and carefully cut an incision one inch under Tank’s eye. Tank flinched and gritted his teeth. He bore the pain very well. Blood mixed with clear fluid and pus drained from the incision and ran down his cheek. Richard pressed gingerly on the swelling to draw out more of the infection. He used half the shirt to clean the incision and then wiped up the blood and pus from Billy’s cheek. Richard then took the other half of the shirt and slowly lifted Tank’s head up to wrap the bandage around his eye.
“It’s over, Billy. Get some rest.”
Tank slept fitfully through the night and when he woke the next morning, his fever had finally broken. Richard changed his bandage twice a day for two days and was pleased that the swelling was continuing to go down. Once the swelling was completely gone, they packed up their gear and headed toward Las Vegas with the sunset at their backs.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
Chief Maxwell Harris was driving his SUV north along Interstate 25 headed towards Albuquerque. Dr. Diana Stone was in the seat next to him staring out the window in a daze, thinking about her adult children and grandchildren. Elizabeth was in the backseat of the SUV holding the toddler they’d been forced to adopt after the death of the little boy’s parents. They didn’t have a car seat for the little one, so Elizabeth simply hugged him tight and put her seatbelt over both of them. Driving north toward Dallas was out of the question. Max had little confidence they could even make it north of Houston, so he didn’t even attempt it. Heading west away from the aftermath of Hurricane Maxine was their best bet.
“Sweetie, what’s your name? A sweet boy like you must have a really nice name. What is it?” asked Elizabeth.
The little boy just smiled up at Elizabeth’s angelic face. “Baby, if you don’t tell me your name, I’m gonna have to give you one. Let’s see. What’s a good name for you? Puppy dog?” The little boy giggled. “Kitty cat?” More giggles. “Teddy bear?” Even more giggles. “C’mon sweetie! I bet you got all kinds of things to say.”
Dr. Stone turned to Max and spoke for the first time in over an hour. “How are we on gas?”
Max checked the gauge and replied, “Quarter tank. Looking for a good spot to pull over and fill up.”
On their way out of town, they had stopped at the city garage and topped off the gas tank. They also acquired thirteen five-gallon gas cans and filled those as well. The back of the SUV was loaded down with sixty-five gallons of gas. The Ford Escape they were driving was a hybrid and got about forty miles to the gallon. Max decided to be liberal with that figure and made it thirty-five. With a fifteen-gallon tank they could travel five hundred and twenty five miles. Max again decided to err on the side of caution and rounded down to five hundred. With the gas they were carrying, they could fill the tank four times. Starting with a full tank and refilling four times meant they could make it about two and a half thousand miles before they needed gas. Max had no intention of waiting till the SUV was stuck on empty before filling up.
The back seat next to Elizabeth was loaded down with bottled water and non-perishable food they brought with them from the command post. A duffle bag full on guns and ammo was beneath Elizabeth’s feet. They were ready for anything.
Max pulled out his 2027 version of Rand McNally’s Road Atlas and turned to the earmarked page that showed the map of New Mexico. Rand McNally was the only company that still sold a paper copy of a road atlas. Max made sure to get a new version every couple years. It just made sense to him to have a hard copy for a backup in an emergency. Max was puzzled that his smartphone didn’t have a signal. He’d thought that once they left the hurricane damage zone he would be able to get a signal on his phone. He’d been checking his phone every thirty minutes with no luck. He cursed himself for not having an offline GPS app on his smartphone. His fancy GPS app had a lot of bells and whistles but needed an internet connection to function. If he’d kept it simple and just stuck with a bare-bones GPS app, he’d be using it right now.
Elizabeth was stroking the toddler’s hair while he slept. Speaking in hushed tones to keep from disturbing him she asked, “Max, honey, when are we going to stop? I’m getting hungry and want to stretch my legs.”
“The next town is Truth or Consequences. I’ll try to find a place to stop.”
“Seriously? That’s the name of the town?”
“Yep, that’s the name.”
“Bizarre name for a town,” said Elizabeth.
Max dug into his encyclopedic bank of knowledge and recalled the details. “It was originally named Hot Springs but some game show in the 1950’s said it would broadcast the show from the first town to rename itself ‘Truth or Consequences.’ Hot Springs was the first, and the name stuck.”
“I’m never playing Trivial Pursuit with you,” said Elizabeth.
“Good idea,” said Max. “Doc, how you holding up? You’re being very quiet.”
Dr. Stone replied while still looking out the window, “I’m fine. Just wondering if I’ll ever see my family again.”
Elizabeth reached forward and put her hand on Dr. Stone’s shoulder. “Oh honey, I’m sure you will. Where do they live?”
“My youngest daughter lives in Houston and my son lives south of Dallas. I have twin girls — one lives in Beaumont and the other in Oklahoma City.”
“Twins? That must’ve been fun. How old are they?”
“They turned thirty-eight last month. My son has the same birthday as they do. Three out of four of my kids have the same birthday,” smiled Dr. Stone.
“Wow! That’s so amazing! What are the odds of that? How many grandkids do you have?”
“Eight. Seven boys and one girl.” Dr. Stone began to cry. “They must be worried sick about me. That damn hurricane…”
“It’s gonna be okay, Diana. This little guy can use a Nana.” Elizabeth kissed the boy’s head. “Can’t you, sweetie?”
“Yes, that little angel has his Nana right here.” Dr. Stone smiled and wiped the tears from her face.
Max listened to the conversation and decided not to participate. He was not a subscriber to giving people false hope. Elizabeth was the most caring, uplifting person he’d ever met, and he decided to let her handle the situation like the pro she was. Max was firmly rooted in reality. The sad truth was Dr. Stone stood a very good chance of not seeing her family for a long, long time. He was not going to turn around and drive her back to Texas. Max hadn’t discussed future plans with Elizabeth or Diana. The one and only plan they had was to get out of Texas in one piece
, and they had accomplished it.
“Diana, we’ve all been to hell and back and haven’t even thought about discussing the future. What is it you wanna do? I hate to think that we’re taking you further away from your family.”
“Well, the only thing I’m worried about right now is that I’m with people I can trust and I’m safe. I’m hoping we can get a signal on our smartphones sometime soon so I can start making calls. I’d have thought we could get a signal a long time ago.”
Max replied, “Me, too. Pretty safe bet that most of Texas doesn’t have electricity so I can understand not being able to make any calls. But all the way out here? It’s really strange.”
“Maybe your little game show town will have cell service,” said Elizabeth, “how much farther?”
“I saw a sign a little ways back that said fifteen miles. Should be there soon.”
A few minutes later they could see Truth or Consequences in the distance. The first exit into the city was Broadway Street. Max was about to take the exit when he noticed something wasn’t right and pulled over to the shoulder. Two cars were parked sideways across both lanes blocking traffic. A large plywood sign was propped up in front of them with the words STAY OUT spray-painted in black.
“What the hell?” wondered Max.
Elizabeth leaned forward and looked. “They can’t do that!”
Max sighed, “Well, they did.”
“What are you going to do?” asked Dr. Stone.
“Well, this is a police vehicle with two uniformed police officers inside. I think we’re going to find out what’s going on. Elizabeth, check the back and make sure the gas cans are still covered up with the tarp. Throw some blankets over the supplies in the seat next to you.” Elizabeth covered up the supplies that were worth their weight in gold. Max drove into the ditch, around the barricade, and back onto the feeder road. A few seconds later they took a sharp corner and came to Broadway Street.
“Please turn around,” said Dr. Stone.
The citizens of Truth or Consequences had erected an effective roadblock, cutting off their town from Interstate 25. A dozen cars were parked side by side, blocking off the road. Orange construction barrels were scattered at random intervals in front of the barricade. Six men with shotguns stood on the roofs of their cars. Parked in the road with traffic was a police cruiser, its red and blue lights flashing. Max returned the gesture and turned on his red and blues. Two police officers exited the cruiser, drew their weapons, and walked towards the SUV.
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