by Alessio Cala
"That's a long stretch to cover, if we're caught out in the middle of that there will be nowhere to run," said Mike.
"Or worse, we could fall." Derek added.
“How is that worse?” Tracy asked.
“I’ll take a quick bullet to the head over drowning to death any day.”
Frank ignored the comment. "Mike will take point, I'll cover the rear. We'll just have to be quick about it."
They were now closer to the sea and the Grand River was considerably wider. Their long and tiring journey had now brought them an end in sight, but getting there was going to be harder than ever. They began crossing the Grand River single-file where the water was shallow over smooth rock. Frank felt the freezing water flood his boots and weigh him down, squelching between his toes. It reached up to his shins and the rock below was layered with a slimy algae. It was slippery beneath the treads of his boots and provided little to no grip.
“Fucking cold…” Derek muttered through chattering teeth.
Frank knew that falling against even the slowest of currents could mean the difference between life and death. There was no way he could swim against it in his condition. Even if they could, without any means of drying, the water’s temperature would eventually kill them anyway.
"Mind your step," he said to Annie. She walked in front of him with arms out to her sides for balance. It reminded him of when they were young.
"I am minding my step," she replied. "I think I should be the one telling you to watch your step."
"Oh yeah? What is that supposed to mean?"
"Well I'm not the one who slipped into a ravine not too long ago."
"Fair point."
He smiled at her playful dig at his previous misfortunes. She was right in a lot of ways. Who was he to tell her to be so careful?
He remembered when they used to go for Sunday walks on summer days. There was a small stone wall that ran for miles across the edge of a field in the backcountry. Without fail, every week Annie would walk along that stone wall's narrow surface. She said she imagined herself as an acrobatic performer, treading across a tightrope suspended one hundred feet above the ground. She would sometimes fall and hurt herself, bruise a knee or twist and ankle, but that didn't stop her. He smiled at the memory and watched her tread lightly across the shallow rock. Then reality pulled him away from his past. He was committing the same crimes he had accused Barry of doing, only in this instance it was the past that tempted him away from the present. He knew that if they were to fall, the consequences would be far more dire than any bruised knee or twisted ankle.
Frank held Sam in his arms. He tilted his head so he could see the boy's face. Sam stared out into the water, resting his head upon Frank's shoulder. The trickling ripples reflected against the whites in his glassy eyes. He stared, fixated in the trance of the river's flow.
"Nearly there," Frank whispered to him. His toes seized up, stiff and without any feeling whatsoever. He saw Mike set foot on land at the other side. His boots became heavier with every step and fighting the flowing mass of water grew increasingly difficult. He felt as though the river would sweep him from beneath the surface and chuck him along its course toward the ocean. All he could think of was the journey up towards Elkford and how he had survived such an experience beforehand. He couldn't let it happen again. He couldn't put Annie through anything like that ever again. Once was bad enough, let alone a second time. He had cheated death twice already along this journey, maybe more. The thought of even tempting fate for another chance was greedy and foolish. The others made it across without any problems. It was a small weight removed from Frank's aching shoulders, but a relief all the same.
The roar of engines cut through the silence like a blaring gunshot. He hesitated, looking at Annie’s abstract face. Fear settled around his heart, deep and dreadful. Together they turned, craning their necks towards the road to see what was approaching but it was too far to tell.
"Everyone down," Mike ordered. He dropped to the ground and pushed himself up against the few trees that separated them from the road. The others dropped in the thin patches of tall grass. There was no brush or foliage that could conceal them from the oncoming threat. Frank dropped and pulled Annie down with him. Together they shuffled through the dirt and hugged a nearby tree. He held her close with Sam between them. They breathed heavily, the nerves riling up inside of him. The mechanical beasts grew louder and nearer. Sam gasped. Frank held him tighter and softly shushed through jittering teeth. There was nowhere for them to run. The road was in front of them and the river behind. With his good eye, he peered past the edge of the tree and onto the road. Watching and waiting. The first tyre spun into view. His head jolted back to cover and he froze suddenly. He listened to the motors and could tell there was more than one vehicle. Don't stop. Please don't stop. The first vehicle soared past; it was travelling at great speed and had made distance from those behind it. Within seconds another roared by, this time slower. He heard the mechanical elements of their chassis. They shook and vibrated across the uneven terrain. A third vehicle approached. Its acceleration was far less aggressive than its predecessors. He heard it, right there on the road behind them. Frank held his breath without realising. His mouth gaped wide open and he stared back across the river. He could hear the tyres crunch over fallen twigs and sticks, snapping them to pieces as it dominated the road. The vehicle didn't stop. It carried on further up the road. They listened in complete silence until they could hear it no more. Frank shut his eyes and released the air from his tired lungs.
The roads were littered with raider patrols. The group had crossed to the other side and back into the concealment of the forest. Frank knew the raiders would be waiting for them. Those who had driven them up into the mountains had no doubt spread word through their camps to set up road blocks and routine patrols. He was surprised it had taken them this long to come across them. Maybe they had hoped they would not make it out of the harshness of the mountains alive. Frank knew the raiders would not send more parties venturing into the depths of the forest. The roads sectioned off every square mile from the river to the military base.
Evening caught up with them and the rain had returned. There was no way they would make it there before tomorrow. One more night's rest, it had only just begun to sink in. They had reached an area that was unlike any other in Autark. The earth had split open from earthquakes of the distant past. The forest floor was cracked open and revealed a whole new world of uncharted territory beneath. Roots of rotted trees protruded the damp soil and rock walls and further down into the darkness were aisles of muddy streams and caves. It was dark and damp but it would provide good cover for the night. They descended into the rock and took shelter from the rain on a bed of flat stone surrounded by walls of chalk and graphite. They were cold but it was too dangerous to build a fire so deep behind enemy lines. Frank thought about the firewood in this province. It would be too damp to burn and even if it did, it would create masses of black smoke, sending a direct signal to their location. Even building a pit was impossible through such rough terrain. They would have to endure another night in the cold.
"How much water do we have left?" Kara asked. Frank rattled his canteen. It was light and he could hear the last drops of water shake against the steel interior. Barry checked his also, as did Mike and Tracy. "We've probably got a couple litres between us," said Tracy.
"Is that it?" said Derek.
Frank carefully removed the straps of his knapsack from his shoulders and dropped it to the rock below. The metal pot attached to it made a dull thudding noise as it landed. He let the others count provisions and sat himself down to rest. The others continued to debate and worry over the lack of water. It went on for much longer than he expected. His eyes drew to the cooking pot and he began to interject. "We could build a rain catcher."
The others stopped and turned to Frank sitting up against the smooth dry rock beneath the shelter.
"We can't," said Mike. "We lost the tarp
back on the other side of the mountain."
"We’ll use something else." Frank took the pot and got back up to his feet. He moved out from the shelter and knelt down into the dirt and placed the pot onto a flat wet boulder. "Barry, go find us some strong branches for supports. Make sure they're long and thick, we'll need at least four."
Barry nodded and took off without a word. He returned after twenty minutes, cradling thick birch branches in his arms. Frank took those he saw superior and began driving them down into the damp earth below. They stood firmly in the mud and he created a squared off section surrounding the pot. He turned to the collection of equipment under the shelter and studied each item carefully. No good. His attention drew to the single blanket they had left. Mike noticed his stare.
"It's too dirty," he said. "Material's no good either. It'll soak right through." Then he saw Annie, he stared through the hood over her head and into her concerned eyes.
"Come back under the shelter, Frank." She coughed as she spoke. She had been coughing ever since they left the mountain. Her eyes had sunken in a little and he knew she was coming down with something. He eyed up the poncho and remembered his own hanging over his head. It was perfect. He would make sure that Annie was warm that evening. The loss of a layer was a small price to pay for drinking water. He removed her poncho and tied it to his own at the hood. After tying each corner to a branch, the material naturally dipped at the knot and the rain began to glide into the cooking pot. Frank took the last remaining blanket and wrapped it around his wife.
Sam hadn't drawn anything for days. Frank asked him before about them; about whether he saw them beforehand or created them himself. "They come in my dreams," Sam had said. His voice was opaque, a whisper of uncertainty.
It was dark and the others were resting. Tracy had offered to take first watch. She sat upon a rock pile that led back to the forest, the Mosin Nagant slung over her shoulder which Mike had given a brief overview on how to use. Frank and Sam sat together, backs against the chalky substance of a large boulder beneath the shelter. The moon was low that night and the light dipped in at an angle. Frank pulled the map from his jacket pocket and unfolded it for the boy to see. It was the map Javier had provided him before they set off from Elkford. The parchment was covered in stains and wrinkles from their journey. He held it out in the moonlight for the boy to see and watched his eyes scan across every line of detail.
"This is where we are?" Sam asked.
"That's right," Frank acknowledged. He panned his hand across the entire map. "This is all Autark."
"And that's where we are going?" he said, pointing to the circled spot on the far north-east corner.
"That's where we're heading, yes."
"Autark looks big."
"It is big," Frank replied. He found the child's naivety endearing, but it was also a prospect that saddened him deeply. Sam had rarely ventured far from the military base, especially unsupervised. He realised that he had never seen or known about the rest of the world. He was a slave child. A child soldier trapped in the confined bounds of the raiders. That was all he knew. But he wasn't like the others. It wasn't as most would think, not to Frank anyway. His ability to see into the future had nothing to do with the reason he was different. The thing that made him unique was the fact that no matter how much they punished and ridiculed him, he still continued to be who he was. He didn't let them take that away from him. He hadn't been desensitised, not completely. His reactions to the things they'd seen were different but he wasn't a killer like the others.
"Frank..."
"Yeah?"
"Why don't people remember when they are little? When they are really little."
"You mean like when you were a baby?"
"Yes."
"Well, it's a bit complicated, but your brain is still developing. It's still growing as you grow."
"Do you remember your mum and dad?"
"I do."
"Were they nice?"
"They were nice enough. Firm but fair."
"What does that mean?"
"It means they were nice as long as I did what I was told."
Frank stared at the child's bleak face. He could read his mind like an open book, searching for answers to his own questions through the lives of others. "Sam, do you remember anything about your parents or the time before those people took you away?"
Sam shook his head, his lips dipped at either end. Disappointment. The boy craned his arm up over his head and began scratching his scalp like a chimp. He looked out into the trees. His nose twitched like a rabbit in that inquisitive way, searching through memories of his short past to find the answer he was looking for. In the end he gave up and returned his attention to the map as though he hadn't mentioned anything to begin with.
Frank rested his hands on his lap and felt the hardness of the revolver through his jacket. He pushed the material away and examined the weapon closely. By releasing the cylinder he realised a daunting discovery. Five bullets left. He slotted it back into place, kicking himself for forgetting to retrieve the bandolier of ammunition. He looked up at the beaming moon through the partition of land and thought about John — lying back there — his body frozen over in the bitter snow. The man had been good to him in the short time they had known each other but now he could do nothing to see him again. He couldn't think about it anymore. An unsettling discomfort set about his stomach and it reminded him that they had eaten nothing but corn seed for the past day. Barry set up snare traps around the perimeter earlier that evening, so they would have to wait until morning. For now all he could do was rest. He set the boy down to sleep and turned back over to his wife and spooned her. He held tight and pulled her in close to him. He could hear her sniffling nose and her body shook in his arms. He didn't want to catch anything off of her but even more so, he didn't want them to die in the cold.
Frank stared out into the open over Annie's shoulder. He listened to the raindrops tapping against the waterproof ponchos and heard them ping rhythmically against the cooking pot. The military base was only a few miles away. If they could make it past the raider patrols they would be there by tomorrow. He hoped that what he had read in that letter was true, that the LPA were sending reinforcements north-east. He wished that they would arrive tomorrow and by the time they arrived everything would be dealt with. All he could do was hope, but hoping would do him no favours.
NINETEEN
Frank woke in the middle of the night, his throat desiccated without any means of relief. He pushed his body up closer to Annie in the darkness and clenched his teeth to stop them from shaking. The rain fell lighter than before but it was still going. He needed water. They all did. He carefully backed off from Annie and moved out into the open to check the pot. Half full. It was more than he had expected. He took the pot and returned to the shelter of the cavern. A short fire was worth the risk. He took the extra wood that Barry had collected and began building it away from the others.
He managed to stuff the tinder between a gap in the rocks and rest the cooking pot of water to boil from above. The twigs and branches crackled and popped in the darkness. He turned and noticed some of the others stir in their sleep. He felt bad for disturbing them but they would thank him later. There were only a few hours left until dawn. The fire illuminated his surroundings, a dim orange of harsh shadows. He saw Barry get up and amble over into the light.
"Sorry, did I wake you?"
"Y-you did, but I need to get up anyway."
"Why?"
"G-gonna check those snares."
"Want me to come along?"
"No. Last t-t-time we ventured out together things didn't go too well."
"It's okay. We can leave Max here this time," he replied.
"I'll be alright."
"Okay."
Just as Barry was about to turn there was something inside of Frank that insisted he stopped.
"Barry, wait."
"What is it?"
"About yesterday, I didn't mean to have
a go at you or anything. Things have just been so–"
"It's okay. I-I understand."
"I know, but–"
"I know, shut up." Barry smiled and seeing his smile made Frank laugh. "I'll be b-b-back in a little while," he said. He swung his rifle over his shoulder and disappeared off into the shadows. Frank's attention returned to the bubbling water over the fire. He felt his eyelid dip, fighting to keep it open. Their journey had beaten him into the ground. He tried to recall everything but the truth was that he didn't know how long they had been out there. He didn't even know what day it was. It didn't matter. The only thing that mattered to him was getting them to safety; but before they could do that they would have to get past the harbour. He took the boiling pot off the heat and settled it to cool. He collected the other's canteens and slowly poured the water into each one, carful to disperse it evenly. He then scooped dirty water from a puddle and tipped it over the fire to douse the flames. He saw Annie's body shiver through the darkness. He lay beside her and held her close. It was still dark out and there was still time to rest. He closed his eye and listened to the gentle patter of rain against the wet rock and mud in the open.
Later that morning, Frank woke to see Annie's shivering pale face. The bags under her eyes were more prominent and her nose a rosy complexion. Annie experienced a wave of changes, one minute she was freezing cold, the next her skin was layered with a cool sweat beneath the ragged blanket. She coughed as she drank the water he had boiled in the early hours of the morning. There was nothing he could do. They had no medicine or antibiotics. This area of the forest housed no natural herbs that could produce a curing remedy. The only option was to get to the harbour as soon as possible and hope that the fever would pass.
Just as Frank was about to help her up, Tracy ran beneath the shelter. She too was flushed with a cool sweat and her eyes targeted Frank in particular. "Have you seen Barry?" she asked. She breathed heavily as though she had been running for some time.
