Finding Their Path (Down The Path Book 3)

by Travis Mohrman

  Laurel had come up with the idea while she watched Jeep load three separate Geiger counters into the packs. He was not taking any chances of possibly heading into a contaminated zone. They still didn’t know where all the bombs had been dropped, but assumed it would be fairly apparent as they moved downriver.

  Jeep and Kate were putting down the river in their little Jon boat as she thought about the future and what it might bring. She looked over to the other boat, and Marcus waved at her as they motored downstream alongside them at a safe distance. Kate glanced up at Jeep; his sunglasses were pulled down to protect his eyes from the wind as the little boat pushed along. She gently wrapped her arm around his one free arm and rested her head on his shoulder, her bright red hair cascading down his back. She felt comfortable at his side. In this new world, she worried that many didn’t feel the same way.

  Kate had no idea what the future would bring them, but as she drew herself tighter into Jeep, she felt safe.

  Epilogue

  Kate was exhausted after a long day of planting lettuce seeds. She slowly eased into the swinging chair that hung on the porch of the little house, her back protesting at the movement. She had grown to love this house over the past six months. It was built like a bomb shelter. Gary, Laurel’s father, had called it an Insulated Concrete Form house, or ICF for short. It was made of large, hollow blocks that reminded Kate of Lego’s. The blocks are made of a rigid foam material, and they are stacked up to form all the load bearing walls. Then thick steel rebar is placed in the middle of the blocks and they are filled up with concrete. This house had nice cedar siding covering up the exterior of the blocks, and it looked great. Gary said it was basically a bomb shelter and swore it would stand the test of time, since no one could tear it down even if they wanted to.

  What Kate loved the most was the big wrap around porch. They were close enough to Lake Michigan to get a cool breeze flowing off the water almost all the time. She would frequently find herself sitting in the swing on the porch and thinking about what they had taken to calling “The Fall”.

  It had been nearly a year since the bombs had dropped. Every world government had been shattered. Every now and then they would hear rumors of a different group of people setting up a new government for the US. She had heard all sorts of names, like The Patriot Republic, and New Freeland. None of them ever gained much steam before they were toppled by the next. It was a time of chaos, but Kate was insulated from most of it at the train yard.

  Many had feared the inevitable nuclear winter after so many bombs had been dropped, but it never came. It was certainly cloudy for several months after the explosions, but it quickly dissipated. Laurel theorized that Shunka had planned for soot in the air when she chose cities to bomb, limiting how many bombs fell in certain regions. Kate trusted that she was right since Shunka had made it clear that she wanted humanity to survive. Still, Kate always worried during stretches of cloudy weather.

  The trip down and then up the rivers to get there had been mostly smooth. Most people were happy to get the medication and it seemed as if they would take it. Still, they saw a great many people with radiation sickness and heard about tremendous amounts of fighting. Some of the injuries Kate saw still haunt her while she sleeps. Because of all that, as soon as they arrived, Jeep had set about building a wall around the entire yard. He had plenty of empty boxcars to use and had stacked them two tall, using the giant crane on hand. He really could fix just about anything, given enough time.

  The crane had most of its electrical components fried by the EMP’s, but Jeep had fixed it using older parts that weren’t susceptible to the same damage. He swore it wasn’t as powerful of a machine as it once was, but it sure lifted a boxcar without any problems. Apparently, when you can fix a space ship, a crane isn’t much of a big deal.

  It had taken Jeep almost a month to build the huge wall all around their little city. While he was doing that, the rest of them put in big gardens. The soil wasn’t the best because they were too close to the lake, but they had been able to grow a few things, and they were amending the sites with more organic matter. One of the survivors that had joined the little society at the train yard was an old organic farmer named Nolan. He was a wizard at getting soil to be fertile and swore he could have that land pumping out lots of produce in a year or two.

  Since they were on the lake, they had lots of fresh fish. They were leery about eating it at first because of the nuclear detonations in Chicago, but after a few months, several people were eating the fish without any problems, but they were sticking to the small ones only. They figured if the water had radiation in it, the little fish would have the least amount.

  Marcus and Laurel had been spending all their time scouting for functional labs. Laurel argued that Marcus could be more helpful working at the trainyard but he refused to allow her to travel outside the perimeter without him. They hadn’t found anything promising yet, but they had started bringing supplies back, hoping to set up a lab at the trainyard.

  Crime hadn’t been much of a problem because they didn’t hide anything. People that wanted to come in were allowed in. The barrier around the site was mainly just to funnel them into the main gate where they could be greeted properly. They had some theft of produce here and there, but with so many fewer people in this entire region, it wasn’t much of an issue. Gary had described the first month as the worst. Many people died a short time after the bombs dropped. Rioting was rampant, so was outright theft and murder, but that was when the crew was slowly heading down river, dispersing medication. By the time they arrived at the yard, things had grown quiet.

  Once the place was set up, Jeep had headed down river to southern Missouri. His family was in Sikeston, and he had left in one of the boats. Much to everyone dismay, he had gone alone. He didn’t want to risk anyone else just so he could head down there. Plus, he could move faster alone. Kate was worried for him, but knew he could handle just about any situation that came up. It helped that he was built like a tank, but it was much more than that. He just had a way about him that seemed to calm others down. Marcus called it southern trust, but Kate didn’t buy it. She had fallen in love with him over the months, and knew other people were simply sensing that he was a good and trustworthy person. It was what made her love for him so easy.

  He was due back in a few days. Kate had grown lonely without him. Her life had started anew that day the bombs dropped. Everyone’s had. Time was measured in before the event and after it. Everyone was doing what they had to in order to survive, but Kate was thrilled to see that, for the most part, humanity had stood up. What was left of it, anyway. They did not dissolve permanently into a state of war and chaos. People were good. People wanted to help other people. When push came to shove, if everyone didn’t help everyone else, they would all die.

  Kate slowly sipped her tea while she gently rubbing her belly, and looked up at the old sycamore tree that grew in the front of the house. As the swing lazily drifted back and forth, she began to quietly sing, “I see the moon and the moon sees me…way up high in the Sycamore tree…”

  If you enjoyed this story, please leave a review on Amazon. I give the pooches a treat for every review any of my books get. Let’s fatten up these hounds!

  Another huge thank you to my beautiful wife. Her support and encouragement through the writing of these books is what made it all possible. Seriously, I slack on chores hardcore while writing these and she doesn’t bat an eye. Thank you so much! Also, big thanks to my team of beta readers, Jessica McDaniel, Heather Reed Thomas, Colby Zoeller, Ryan Foster, and Jon Dunning. Debbie Robbins, you went above and beyond the title of beta and I’m just calling you one of the editors, thank you deeply for the invaluable help with the story! Obviously, any errors that may still remain in here are solely the fault of Bender. Stupid Bender. I would also like to thank all of you for reading my book, please let me know what you think!

  If you are coming to this story without having read Down The Path, which takes plac
e ~500 years after the events of this story, I highly encourage you to give that one a try.

  Also, check out Singular Points, a totally new story in a very different world.

  Travis lives in rural Missouri and would love to hear from you! Feel free to email him at Travismohrman@gmail.com if you have questions, want more info, or just have a comment to make. You can find him on Facebook and discuss things there as well. He will email you back usually within the day. He even has a fancy pants website at www.travismohrman.com. ( And no, it’s not just pictures of flying toasters, talking mouths, clocks and a dancing Jesus, but that would be awesome!)