by JEFF MOTES
“There’s lots of blood right here. See?”
“Yes, I do. I didn’t miss him.”
“Let’s follow the blood trail. We’ll find him.”
Will leads us along the trail of blood. The trail crosses the opening and enters the woods. His carbine is hanging in front, and his right hand is on the pistol grip. Guess he’s getting ready in case the deer isn’t dead. I follow a step behind him.
“There he is.” Will shines a light under a low bush.
The deer is lying there, its eyes open and blood coming from its mouth and body. I shudder. Will grabs the deer by its antlers and drags him out. He’s not very big. He rolls him over, and a huge gaping hole is in his side. How could he have run so far?
“You did good, Lizzy.”
He touches some of the blood and rubs it between two of his fingers. Then…he wipes those bloody fingers on my face!
I jump back in shock. “What are you doing?”
“This is your first deer, isn’t it? It’s tradition.”
I wipe at the blood with my hands, smearing it even more.
“Come on,” I say. “Let’s get this up to the garage.”
We start dragging the unfortunate animal. Once out of the woods, we pause for a rest. Will’s still smiling. I can’t help it. I smile too.
Chapter 28
Jimmy
Gas
Day 10
Will and I hang the deer hind legs up using a makeshift gambrel he made. It’s not a large deer, probably about the size of the one from the other day. Will said Lizzy shot this deer. I marvel at that. It’s a wonder the gun didn’t break her shoulder.
I shine my light to the ceiling, washing the whole garage area in a low white light. I’ve noticed the light isn’t as bright as it was the other day. The batteries must be getting weak. We only have six more AA batteries. Once those are gone, it will be dark around here indeed. Will said he would give me his spare batteries when he leaves, so that should help some. In fact, he’s going to leave a lot of stuff that’s in his pack. He said he would leave all his spare batteries, candles, water treatment tablets, a small bottle of bleach, coffee filters, fire-starting materials, toilet paper, and all the remaining food in his pack. He must have a lot more at his house to give these so freely.
I look over at Will and Lizzy. He has his arm around her shoulder. They appear happy enough. Maybe pushing Amy toward Will was the wrong thing to do. It certainly didn’t work. In fact, nothing I have tried has worked since the EMP. Nothing!
Perhaps trading with James Harris will help us make it through until things get back to normal. I bet I can find more things over at Richard’s house and at Jim Hickman’s place that I can use to trade.
Lynn catches my gaze then looks over at them, her eyes growing wide. “Lizzy, you’re bleeding. Are you all right?”
The girl smiles and rubs her face, then looks up at Will. “I’m fine. It’s dry now. Will did it to me, and he’s going to wash it off.”
“Mr. Wright,” Will says, “what do you want to do about the deer? Want to make another deal with the folks in the community or keep the whole thing? At the very least, you should let them have the heart and liver.”
I’m mulling the idea over in my head.
“Since we don’t have any ice, we shouldn’t skin it tonight,” Will goes on. “We should wait until the morning when we can cut the meat up and put it directly in the smokehouse. But we have to gut him tonight.”
“I think I’ll call them and see if they want to do the same thing they did the other day,” I say. “We need more vegetables. Plus, like you said, it might build up a little good will with the folks over there.”
“I think that’s a wise decision, Mr. Wright. I’ll give them a call on the radio.”
“I’ll call. It’s my turn to take watch anyway. You and Lizzy go get some rest. Just leave me your radio.”
That’s when I notice the three red plastic gas cans sitting beside the wall. James brought them while Will and the girls were getting water. I forgot to cover them up. I quickly move the light away from the ceiling and shine it out the garage door, plunging the wall into darkness. I hope nobody noticed those cans.
“Okay, Mr. Wright,” Will says. He removes the radio from his belt and gives it to me, along with the NVD. Lynn stands by my side and leans into my shoulder. We both watch Will and Lizzy walk to the house.
“I’m going to miss them when they leave,” Lynn says.
“Yeah, they’re going to leave us here knowing they could do more,” I reply.
“Jimmy, they’ve done a lot. I’m surprised they stayed here at all.”
“Well, they’re leaving tomorrow, and that will be the end of it. I think I’ve got things worked out. We’re going to be all right.”
“What do you mean?” Lynn asks.
James Harris’ words come to mind. Not only the words, but the way he said them. I shudder slightly. “I’ll do whatever it takes to take care of you and Amy. Just trust me. That’s all I’m going to say right now.”
“Of course I trust you, Jimmy. You’ve always provided for our family.”
“Go on in and get some sleep. I’ll take care of things out here and call the reverend.”
“Are you sure? I know you’re tired.”
“Yes, I’m sure. I have too much on my mind to sleep now anyway.”
Lynn returns to the house using the little dollar store flashlight she always kept in her purse. I stand there for a few minutes thinking about the amazing turn of events of the past two weeks. I make the call.
A 4-wheeler drives up to the garage a few minutes later. The man getting off isn’t Pastor Ezell or James Harris. He’s one of the guards from the barricade who greeted us a few days ago. He steps up, and we shake hands.
“Same deal as before, right?”
“Same deal.”
We load the deer up on the back of his 4-wheeler, and he gets ready to leave. “Somebody will be back mid-morning. Good night, Mr. Jimmy.”
“Good night.”
Tomorrow morning is when James is supposed to bring the supplies to trade for the gas. Gas! I forgot about that. I better fill these gas cans. James sounded like he’d be pissed if I didn’t have it ready when he brought the trade goods. I don’t think I want to find out what that’s like.
I get the three cans and the siphon James left for me and set them by my truck. I’m not sure how much gas Lynn has in her car. Knowing her, it probably wasn’t much. I know my truck was half full. With the gas in her car and the gas in mine, there should be more than fifteen gallons.
I open the gas door and remove the cap, then slide the siphon in. It stops far short of the tank itself. I push harder. It won’t budge. I pull it out and try again. It still won’t go in!
Moving around to Lynn’s car, I open the gas door and remove the cap. The siphon hose will not go in all the way. I push and twist the hose trying to get it to go into the tank. It’s no use; it won’t go. Something is blocking it. I move to my truck and try again. The hose stops at the same place. I can’t get the fuel out!
James’ words play through my mind. “Reneging on a deal will get you busted up.” Frantically, I try to force the hose in the tank again but to no avail.
I sit on the floor with my back leaning against the rear tire of my truck, my head in my hands. The acid is rising in my stomach, thinking about what might happen if I don’t have the fuel for James when he comes. I can imagine my busted-up face in the bedroom mirror with my remaining front tooth knocked out. What am I going to do?
A thought flashes through my mind. Should I do it? How am I going to explain it? I start thinking of a cover story. Yes, I can say somebody must have snuck in while I was in the backyard. But first I need to see if it will even work.
Getting up off the floor with renewed energy, I pick up the fuel cans and the siphon and head for Will’s truck. I glance at the house. The room Will is using faces the back of the house, but I still need to be quiet.
I open the gas door, remove the cap, and slide the hose down the neck of the tank. I’m holding my breath as the hose reaches the same spot where it stopped at my truck and Lynn’s car. I push further, and the hose threads down the neck all the way to the bottom of the fuel tank.
Relief overwhelms me, and for a minute I’m afraid I might shout out. I pick up one of the fuel cans. Opening the top, I insert the outlet from the siphon and start squeezing the bulb. After several squeezes, the gas starts flowing smoothly. Yes, this is going to work out.
I fill the first can to the top, then pinch the outlet hose closed, stemming the flow of gas. I get the second can and repeat the process. On the third can, the gas stops flowing when the can is only about three-quarters full.
I pump the bulb, trying to force the gas to flow again. It’s futile; there must not be any more in the tank. Chancing the light being seen, I shine my flashlight on each fuel can. Using the siphon, I transfer some of the fuel from the first two cans to the third until they are all even.
In the garage, I place the fuel cans on back of my truck and close the tailgate, considering what I’ve done. I stole Will’s gas. The gas he was going to use to get home. Now he’s not going to be able to leave. A little tinge of guilt enters my soul. Some reward for all the help he’s given us. But the guilt fades away. He can get more gas. The folks in Pastor Ezell’s community like him; I’m sure somebody will give him enough gas to make it home. Besides, once I figure out how to get the gas out of my truck, I’ll give him a couple of gallons so he can leave.
Feeling better, I take a deep breath and go sit on the front porch.
Chapter 29
Will
Fade to Black
Day 10
Getting up at 4:00 a.m. is not something I enjoy. I can’t wait to be home. Heck, even at Grandpa’s, I get to sleep till 5:00 a.m. That’s so much better than the four hours of sleep I’ve been getting each night. But we’ll be home today. As soon as I help Mr. Wright with the deer, Lizzy and I are leaving. We’ll pick up her grandmother then head to Repose. It’s certainly going to make for a long day. Maybe once we’re there, she and I can be alone so I can tell her how I feel.
Stepping into the great room, I head for the foyer. The sounds of low snoring enter through the open front windows. Mr. Wright is asleep on watch again.
“Mr. Wright,” I call out, “It’s Will. I’m coming out.”
He doesn’t respond. I call out louder.
Finally, he stirs. “Yes, Will, sorry. My mind was wandering.”
Mr. Wright is sitting in the same chair as yesterday morning. He stands and hands me the NVD.
“The radio is on the table. Wake me whenever they bring our deer back.”
“Sure thing, Mr. Wright.”
Looking through the NVD, I scan the front yard. Seeing nothing, I pick up the radio. The power nob is on, and the radio is dead. Mr. Wright must have been scanning radio channels during the night and left it on. I forgot to charge it yesterday, and the batteries were low this evening. I switch the power nob off and lay it on the table.
I go down the steps and around to the back of the house. Near the deck, I pause and thoroughly scan the backyard and tree line. Two pigs are rooting near the edge of the woods. I ease closer, trying to get in range for my carbine. I turn the IR laser on. It’s bright in the green and black hues of the NVD. It would be nice to bag one of these pigs for the Wrights. But something spooks them, and they run off before I can get close enough. I was trying to be careful, but I must have stepped on something and made too much noise.
Switching the IR laser off, I scan the area one more time with the NVD, then move around to the front and out to the paved road. Seeing nothing, I return and pause at my truck. I check my watch. It’s 5:30 a.m., and daylight is slowly invading the sky. I pop the hood of the truck and check the oil. Level is good. The coolant is good, too. The fuel tank was three-quarters full when I came out here, and I haven’t driven much since. Well, Mr. Wright did take it into town, but there should be plenty of fuel left. No need to worry about that. I walk around the truck and inspect the tires. They all look good. Looking in the bed of the truck at the busted tire, I shake my head. I should have never let Mr. Wright use my truck. The truck is all ready to go. All I have to do before we leave is reinstall the electronic ignition module, and that takes less than five minutes.
I’m still tired, and sitting on the front porch is making me sleepy. I get up and step out into the yard and start stretching again, trying to get my blood pumping. The front door creaks open, and Amy steps out, coming over.
“I thought I might find you out here.”
“Hey, Amy.”
We sit on the steps. She moves several loose strands of black hair from her face.
“Sorry, I didn’t think to brush my hair before I came out. I didn’t sleep well last night and couldn’t stay in the bed any longer.”
Amy is still pretty, even with her hair all messed up. The morning air is cool again, and I’m glad she’s wearing regular clothes.
“My hair’s a mess, too. Don’t worry about it.”
“So you think my hair’s a mess?”
“No. No that’s not what I meant.”
“Then what did you mean?”
I’ve put my foot in my mouth again. She laughs. “I’m fooling with you silly. Of course, my hair’s a mess.”
I grin at her.
“Will, I don’t know what we’re going to do when you and Lizzy leave. It’s got me nervous. Can’t you stay a little longer?”
I really feel sorry for Amy, but I’ve already done everything I can for her and her family.
“We can’t, Amy. I’m sorry. We have to go home today.”
“I know. I just thought I would ask one more time.”
She perks up a little. “Mom and Dad are still in bed. You want me to heat up water for grits?”
“That would be nice.”
“Go wake Lizzy, and I’ll get the water started on the burner.”
She heads for the door. I think about how I found Amy in the bedroom the other day. I don’t want the same thing to happen to Lizzy.
“Amy, if you don’t mind, will you wake Lizzy? I’m going to sit out here for a while longer.”
“Okay, if that’s what you want.”
I mentally go over the checklist for the day:
Get the truck ready to go. Done, except for the electronic ignition module.
Pack my gear and remove the items I’m going to be leaving the Wrights.
Get Lizzy’s gear packed.
Help Mr. Wright with the deer and smoker.
Load up and leave.
Stop at Lizzy’s house for Mrs. Barnes and their things.
Return to Repose.
Simple enough. So it seems.
Lizzy comes out shortly with two cups of grits. She gives me one and sits beside me.
“Morning, Will.”
I wonder if she has any idea what the sound of her voice so early in the morning does to me.
“Good morning, Lizzy. Thanks for the grits.”
“You’re welcome.”
“Hey,” Amy says, “I’m the gourmet cook.”
“And thank you, Amy.”
“That’s more like it,” she says cheerily. “And you’re welcome.”
Lizzy and Amy are talking together like they always do. How can girls find so much to talk about? I chuckle, and they both look at me.
“What?” they say in unison.
I grin. “Nothing.”
They pick right back up in the conversation as if I hadn’t interrupted. The sound of an approaching 4-wheeler prompts us all to stand. It’s coming down the drive. Someone must be bringing the deer back.
“Amy, go get your dad.”
Lizzy and I step into the yard. The 4-wheeler stops not far from my truck. It’s James Harris, the same guy from the other day.
“Good morning, Will and Lizzy,” Mr. Harris says. “You two sure look nice together.”
Lizzy blushes slightly, and I smile.
“Good morning, Mr. Harris. Is that the deer and the other things?”
“Sure is.”
Mr. Wright walks up behind us, tucking his shirt in his pants. “Hello, James. Will, how about you and Lizzy taking the deer to the kitchen? I’ll bring the rest of the stuff in a few minutes.”
“All right,” I reply. “Lizzy, get the other end.”
She takes the right handle of the cooler, I take the left, and we set off for the house.
“Will, I’m getting excited. Let’s hurry up and help get this meat ready then leave. I so want to see my grandmother!”
Mrs. Wright is in the kitchen clearing a workspace to cut the deer up. We set the cooler next to the kitchen island and open the top. Just like before, the deer is covered with ice.
I hear the 4-wheeler crank up. Mrs. Wright is at the kitchen window gazing out. “What are they getting from the garage?” she mumbles. She looks back inside. “Will, let Jimmy slice the deer up, if you don’t mind. Could you and the girls get the smokehouse ready?”
Mr. Wright comes in carrying a lot of vegetables and plastic bags with rice, beans, and some other stuff. He sets it on the counter.
“Looks like they were more generous this time, Jimmy,” Mrs. Wright says. “Did you talk them into bringing more?”
“I did. Pastor Ezell and his folks are easy to deal with.”
Lizzy and I turn for the door, but before I do, I catch a glimpse of the black handle of a semi-automatic pistol in his front pocket. What kind, I can’t tell, but it wasn’t there when he came out this morning.
Nearing the smokehouse, Amy asks, “What do we need to do to get this ready?”
I shrug. “Not much really. Get the wood set up for a fire and maybe gather a little more wood. I don’t want to start the fire until we hang the meat, though.”
“Will,” Lizzy says, “if you’ll get the wood ready for the fire, Amy and I’ll go get more wood.”
“Sounds good to me. I’ll get the wheelbarrow for you.”
