When the Heywood returned to port, it was with a good crew that was learning how to work together, sharing the burdens.
For Terry and Char, it could not have been a more productive day. “All we need is the call from Kiwi, or Ramses, or Cory, or Ayashe that they are on their way.”
Char didn’t hesitate. She called her daughter. “When are you coming to get us?”
“When are you going to take me shopping in Kingston?”
Char shook her head at Terry, confused at Cory’s reply.
“Say again?”
“Shopping,” Cory said determinedly.
“We’re not going to Kingston.” Char’s mouth was set. Terry was trapped and couldn’t get past Char to the gangplank. He contemplated jumping overboard and swimming for it.
“Sounds like we’re not coming to New Orleans.”
“What kind of miscreant did I raise?”
“Shopping. I’ve tasted its goodness and want more,” Cory replied.
Terry opened his mouth, intending to say “a chip off the old block,” but thought better of it.
“I don’t know what to tell you. Boat’s full and we’re getting off in New Orleans.”
“We’re at the ranch and probably leaving tomorrow, take a month to get there, but you owe me!” Cory insisted.
“Of course. See you there, sweetie.”
North Chicago
Ramses looked skeptically at the squad. Camilla had filled the slot left by Bonzo. Ayashe and Kiwi joined as horse masters, and Cory rode along because she was Cory and could do as she wished. No one complained when she was around because if anyone got hurt, she would take care of them. She exuded a calming influence.
People liked that.
And Ramses benefitted the most from her being around. The more he got to see her around other people, the luckier he felt. Terry had told him in one of their private conversations that made Cory and Char cringe, that he would break every bone in Ramses’s body should any harm come to Cory.
Ramses thought Cory was better in hand-to-hand than he was, but she rarely practiced. He didn’t understand how she could be that good, but whenever they sparred, he didn’t hold back yet couldn’t get through her defenses. He figured that when the shit hit the fan, he’d be the one who needed to be protected.
Fourteen people, twenty horses, and one coonhound left Kiwi and Gerry’s ranch. The former warrior waved as his wife led the group away. Kiwi waved back, sitting tall in the saddle, happy for one more mission, and happy to be on her way to collect her old friends, the ones who had believed in her from the start. She rubbed the scar that she carried from her first trial in combat.
She carried the sword made from a leaf spring, more than thirty years old, but freshly oiled and sharpened.
She clicked to her mare and urged her into a trot. Riding was as natural to her as walking. When Kiwi looked at each of the riders, she saw too many struggling to get comfortable. She chuckled silently, thinking that they were in for a hard time.
“After the first week, when your bruises have callouses, you’ll be fine,” she shouted over her shoulder, still chuckling. Due east they traveled until they hit the big river and then they would turn south.
Clovis ran happily alongside Cory’s horse, darting into the brush every now and then to bray like a mule when he was on the hunt. The riders didn’t slow down and he learned that catching up was tiring. After a few hours, Cory had him in the saddle with her. He was riding and watching all that was going on, barking on occasion at something he determined needed to be barked at.
Somewhere near St. Louis
Two weeks in and they weren’t as far as Kiwi expected. They had been on the wrong end of a late fall deluge. Slogging through the mud took time. Avoiding the overflowing banks of the unchecked Mississippi had been even worse. They’d had to go miles out of their way too many times.
The horses and the people were miserable. Kiwi had different expectations, but she’d lived long enough to know that sometimes Mother Earth expressed her dismay at the hurt that had been done to her. The Wastelands stopped at the river, the rain wasted on the death beyond.
The river teemed with life. Trees hugged its banks, enjoying the constant cool of the water, until the river swarmed ashore and swept the bold downstream. Dorsal fins cut the river’s surface when the people weren’t looking. Fish jumped after the few bugs that flew too close.
Cory rode at Ramses’s side.
“What next?” she asked innocently, stroking Clovis’ wet and sticky dog hair.
“We keep going, until we find your mom and dad, then we return home.” From the look on her face, he knew that he hadn’t answered her question.
She waited. Silence was a Walton family trait and encouraged people to spill their guts to fill the void.
“Keep on keeping on?” Ramses ventured.
“Is that the best you have?” Cory asked softly, smiling.
“It’s what your dad would say.”
“It is, but I didn’t marry my dad.”
“We’re married now? Did I miss something?” Ramses wondered.
“We might as well be. I guess we could have a ceremony, but the pack is gone, scattered to the ends of the earth. I like them. Aaron was with me a great deal as I grew up. He helped me become who I am.”
“Maybe we can use our comm devices and call them, let them listen in,” Ramses suggested.
Cory smiled ear to ear. “I knew I was marrying a smart man. I find your proposal acceptable. As soon as we get back, we’ll arrange it.”
Ramses couldn’t stop looking at her. The blue glow of her eyes seemed natural. It projected a cool and calm that best reflected Cory’s personality.
She liked how he looked at her.
“Watch out!” someone yelled from up ahead. Ramses and Cory saw the ground give way, sending Ayashe, Kiwi, and their horses into the swirling mud of an angry Mississippi River.
They spurred their horses forward, reining to a stop wide of where the bank collapsed. Ramses jumped down and worked his way close to the bank, but couldn’t see anything in the darkness below. Camilla raced past, heading downstream. Cory galloped after her.
Clovis ran in her wake.
Ramses yelled at his team to spread out and follow. “And stay clear of the bank!” He mounted his horse and kicked it into action. The animal was already frightened by the yelling and the running. With wide eyes, it darted due west, heading away from the river as fast as it could run.
Camilla saw the bobbing heads. “There!” she yelled as her horse continued past. Cory was right behind her, getting mud rained on her as the lead horse’s hooves pounded through the puddles.
Cory squinted and continued riding, looking for a way to catch the two women and their horses. The mare and stallion were panicking, kicking and screaming as they twisted and turned, bouncing off tree trunks and debris as they went.
Ayashe was trying to pull her mother away from them. Kiwi’s arms stretched out, hoping to catch a rein and pull the horse toward the shore. The two worked against each other, neither gaining what they were striving for.
“Forget the horses!” Camilla yelled at her mother.
“Leave it!” Ayashe screamed, letting go with one hand as she made to punch her mother in order to save her life.
Kiwi gave up, relaxing her body and stopping her fight against the current. Ayashe wasn’t ready and was dragged under. She tried to push off, but got twisted around. Her feet cleared the surface. Kiwi grabbed a foot and rolled over backwards.
Ayashe came to the surface, sputtering and looking for her mother. She plunged both hands into the muddy water and grabbed hold of a shirt, yanking backwards and kicking hard toward the shore. Kiwi’s head came out of the water. Ayashe grabbed her mother’s chin from behind and leaned toward the shore.
Kicking hard, she found herself unable to get closer. The water was sending her downstream, and she found herself powerless against it. She was starting to get tired.
&nb
sp; Camilla found a finger of land jutting into the river, creating swirls and eddies. She threw rope into the water as Ayashe and her mother bounced past. They couldn’t grab the rope and were quickly past the promontory on which Camilla was perched.
Cory rode hard down river, vaulted off her horse and ran full speed toward the bank. She didn’t slow down as she dove toward the water, laying out as she flew through the air.
“NOOO!” as Ramses approached from the west, having regained control of his animal by sheer force of will and riding recklessly to catch up.
He pulled the animal up and vaulted from the saddle.
Clovis barked and pranced, wanting to go into the water, but afraid of the danger and growing roar of uncontrolled river.
Camilla rode to them, half in the saddle with a rope dragging behind her. Ramses took it from her, coiled it, and with all the enhanced strength in his body, he snatched one end and threw the rest of the bundle at Cory.
It flew straight, being wet with mud made it heavier and like a frozen rope. It extended until Cory caught it, treading water and maintaining her position against the current, a feat only someone with superhuman strength could have managed.
Kiwi and Ayashe floated into the rope that Cory pulled tight before them. Grabbing on, they slowly pulled themselves toward shore. Cory continued to swim away from the shore, toward the heaviest current.
“Come back!” Ramses yelled as he edged closer to give her more slack.
At the end of the rope, Cory stretched out, grabbing the reins of a flailing horse. Kiwi’s mare whinnied and snorted, eyes wide in panic.
“PULL!” Cory hollered, using her body to extend her reach. Rein in one hand and the very end of the rope in the other, she pulled. She was heading downstream and dragging Ramses, Ayashe, Kiwi, and Camilla with her.
The horse continued to toss its head and kick.
“Let go,” Ramses yelled at Kiwi and Ayashe as they found purchase on a strip of land. They did, reluctantly, and crawled from the floodwater.
Ramses ran ahead and wrapped the rope around a low tree trunk, he could only manage half a turn before it pulled tight. He braced his feet and hung on. With the rope wrapped around one wrist, he felt as if it would tear his hand off, but he didn’t let go.
The rope pulled against the tree as it turned toward the shore. It was taut and as hard as steel. Ayashe and Camilla ran past, but Ramses couldn’t turn to see where. The entirety of his being was focused on the rope and the tree.
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Outside St. Louis on the Mississippi River
Kiwi was stunned. She was standing on the shore and watching, unable to run another step, barely able to stand upright. Ramses had one end of the rope and Cory had the other. Together, they were pulling Kiwi’s mare toward the shore.
Once the animal had her feet under her, she thundered from the river, up the bank and ran a hundred yards before shaking her head and stomping on the ground.
Ramses was thrown backward with the sudden release of tension on the rope. He tumbled over and rolled to his feet, looking for Cory before letting the rope drop from numb fingers.
He staggered at first and then picked up speed. He slid to a stop and kneeled as he offered Cory a hand.
She smiled and her eyes glowed blue. She was a dripping, muddy mess, but fine. Concern seized her features as she grabbed Ramses’ wrist. The skin was gone from three fourths of it.
“I’ll be damned,” he said casually.
“My big tough man,” Cory replied, letting her nanocytes help repair the damage. In no time, he flexed his fingers and smiled.
“Good as new.”
Kiwi walked ahead, snickering at her horse until she was able to catch it. Her saddlebags were gone and the saddle needed to be cleaned, but the horse was uninjured. She hugged the animal to her before shaking a fist at the sky, lamenting the loss of the stallion who had gone in, but not come out
Ayashe ran for her mother to encourage her not to further anger Mother Earth.
Ramses pointed inland, away from the river. “Make camp!” he ordered even though it was still early.
Clovis flopped on the muddy ground and lay there like a sandbag. Cory called to him, but the poor dog was exhausted. She picked him up and carried him. He opened one eye to look at Ramses.
“I knew you were smarter than you let on, you little faker!”
North Chicago
Auburn and Kimber had the place to themselves. Kaeden and Marcie had disappeared with their kids.
“I don’t like to watch you leave,” Auburn told her. She took another sip of the grape juice made from the fall harvest.
“I don’t like to leave.” She held his hand, tense as they finally had that conversation.
The one that would clear the air and establish new boundaries.
“I don’t see how we can be together,” Auburn said bluntly.
“We’re together now, so why do we have to be miserable?”
“It’s just how it is, fleeting, like a fly landing and then taking off again, no chance to get to know the fly.”
“I’m not a fly,” Kim said coldly, standing to leave.
“Wait,” Auburn said, standing with her and taking her arm. Kim’s first instinct was to remove his hand, but she tamped down the reaction before she made a mistake.
“What do I have to do to get more of your time?” he asked sincerely.
“Join the Force,” she replied quickly, but softly.
“That’s not me.” Auburn kicked at the dirt.
“Then be our logistician. You can organize and coordinate. Usually an older warrior has the job, but I don’t see Lacy doing that.”
“They’d let me work with the FDG without being a warrior?”
“We have some pull and you know your shit,” she said with a smile.
His eyes narrowed as he glared at her.
“What do you mean I’m shit?”
“What? I didn’t say you’re shit. I said you know your shit. There’s a big difference between you are and your!”
“Is not!” Auburn countered, now that he understood. He grabbed his wife and pulled her close.
Kim grabbed her husband and pulled herself to him.
“I can’t lose you, but I can’t lose me either,” Kim whispered.
“I know. Sounds like I’m going into the box-carrying business, so we can all be who we were meant to be.”
Kim squealed, ever so slightly. She had no idea how the idea had come to her, but she knew it would solve a lot of problems for their marriage, and it was in the best interest of the FDG.
“Can I get an Akio boost, too? I don’t want to grow old without you,” Auburn said.
“It’ll be a long time before that can happen, but I’ll ask. Professionals talk logistics, or so I’ve heard.”
Gulf of Mexico
The Heywood lurched to the top of one wave until it peaked and then it fell down the other side. The masts jerked back and forth as the sailboat was buffeted between the peaks and troughs.
Two of the women were puking on the deck, because it was too dangerous to get close to the rail. They were hanging on for dear life. Only one sheet was deployed to give the boat forward momentum without stressing the mast and rigging. They were running before the wind.
Terry blessed the GPS as it told him where they were. The middle of nowhere running before a massive storm. He hoped it wasn’t a hurricane. It was too late in the season to be a hurricane, but weather patterns had shifted following the nuclear exchange. The Wastelands were a testament to that.
“Everyone get below!” Terry yelled over the storm. He looked at Char. “Tie yourself off.”
He wrapped a length of rope around his waist and tied the other end to a rail near the wheel. Char tied herself to the main mast. There was enough slack to work some of the rigging if needed, but not all of it.
Cresting and rolling, they continued running before the storm. Terry and Char’s enhanced vision let them see even
though the storm made it seem like it was the midnight of a new moon.
The sailboat dipped and the main mast slapped against a wave top. Terry and Char hung on, thinking they were going to roll, but the boat popped upright. Terry adjusted their heading, seeking the swells more fore and aft, and less side to side.
Even with his best efforts, twice more the boat nearly laid over. Terry’s heart was terminally in his throat as he fought the storm, the burden of losing the fight crushing him into the deck. He braced his legs and fought on.
It wasn’t in his nature to give up. “Hang on!” he bellowed into the wind, unsure if Char could hear him, even though she was only forty feet away. He could see her outlined in the brief flashes of distant lightning.
Cancun
Shonna and Merrit had convinced the fishing fleet to take a day off so they could give the fish processing crew a full free day.
“What will we do on our day off?” Shonna cooed.
“Boating?” Merrit suggested.
“Did you learn enough to do the sailboat thing?”
“What!” Merrit replied in feigned outrage. “I’ll have you know that my deckhandiness is renowned! I learned vast quantities of knowledge about sailing. Vast quantities.”
“That tells me you know nothing.” Shonna stood with her fists on her hips.
“Put on your bikini and let’s take one of the little boats out.” Merrit licked his lips and smiled devilishly.
Shonna nodded and without further discussion, they walked to the marina and borrowed one of the fishermen’s personal boats. He showed them what to do and left them to it.
At Merrit’s cue, Shonna hoisted the sail. The boat lurched forward and slammed into the dock as the line tying it off was still wrapped around a small sponson. Shonna lowered the sail to Merrit’s grumbled apology. With the tension removed, Merrit loosened their boat, threw the line inside, and sat by the tiller.
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