by Aborn, A. L.
The house to my right catches my eye. It sits about one hundred fifty feet back from the road. A ranch; a wraparound farmer’s porch gracing the front. A man, perhaps in his late seventies sits on the porch with a large dog at his side. Meekah smells them at the same time that I see them. She growls and pulls at the leash, her breath coming out as a whine between growls. I try to keep moving, dragging Meekah behind me. I feel ridiculous. I don’t know if I should acknowledge him or pretend that I don’t see him.
Glancing over my shoulder toward the man, I’m glad he’s old. I think I could take him if he comes near me. Locking eyes with him; he waves kindly from his chair. Guilt washes over me. Not everyone has gone crazy in the last twenty-four hours. Take a deep breath and keep going.
Eventually, Meekah calms down and resumes her pace at my side, one step ahead. We pass the last house on the road and some of the stress leaves my shoulders. There are no more windows to peep out of and if anyone comes, it will be in a car. I will hear them and now there are plenty of places to hide on the side of the road.
We walk. And walk. Seven miles has never seemed so long. I know I didn’t make it far in the woods. Now is my chance to really cover some distance. I start to count my steps. I lose count after one thousand, so I start over.
A sound behind me. An engine. A car! Without thinking, I dive to my right into the snow, pulling Meekah behind me. She ends up on top of me. Wrapping my arms around her, I roll, trying to conceal myself in the snow and behind the trees. The engine is louder now. But not a car. Almost like… an ATV. Please don’t let them see me.
I have my head buried in Meekah’s fur, silently willing her to stay quiet.
The engine sound is closer now. It turns off abruptly.
“Hello there,” a voice calls out to me.
Oh, fuck.
Raising my head from Meekah’s side, I did not do a great job of hiding. I can clearly see the old man I passed sitting on his porch. He is astride a green four-wheeler about ten feet from me. A rifle is slung across his shoulders and a green John Deere hat sits upon his thinning white hair.
I don’t know what to say, so, I say nothing.
The knife is, miraculously, still clutched in my right hand.
“Do you know where this road ends?” He asks me.
I don’t respond. I don’t know what his intentions are. Didn’t I just try to reassure myself that he wasn’t crazy? Taking a deep breath, I sit up. I release Meekah’s struggling body but keep a tight grip on the end of her leash.
“The end of this road ends at a busy intersection. There is a country store on the corner. Bound to be people there. I’m thinking, with all of this power outage business, maybe it isn’t too smart for a girl by herself to walk that way.” He says this calmly, as if I’m not sitting in the snow trying to hide from him.
“I’m not doing anything else. Nothing to watch on TV.” He chuckles to himself. “I could give you a ride, at least part of the way, to where you’re going.”
His kind voice is inviting. He just seems like a bored old man. Again I think, I’m pretty sure I could take him in a fight.
“I’m not putting my knife away,” I say in a shaky voice.
“Well that’s no way to thank me, but I suppose that’s okay.”
I shrink back. Thank him? What does he mean?
He must see the concern on my face. Smiling, he waits quietly.
I consider this. A ride? If I sit behind him, I can hold the knife and easily stab him in the kidney if he tries anything. I feel confident that I could do this, but I can’t let him drive me all the way to Ally’s though. The risk of someone knowing where we’re headed… What if he drops me off a road or two away? He is right about the intersection. The only thoughts I had given to the intersection involved my hiding behind the dumpster that sits in the country store parking lot, waiting for the right time, and then running across the road. I decide to trust him. If it goes wrong, I’ll stab him and have a four-wheeler. Win-win.
Ugh. I can’t believe I am thinking this. But it feels right; necessary.
I stand and clear my throat. “Could you take me to Beard Road?” This is one road away from Ally, but there are numerous places to go from there.
He nods and then motions for me to climb on. I leave my frame pack on but take the small backpack and put it in the wire basket hanging from the back of the ATV. Lifting Meekah, she obediently lets me put her on the crisscrossed metal that covers the back fenders. I keep my hand on her to steady her as I climb on. Straddling the seat behind him, its uncomfortable to be this close to him. Wrapping my left arm around Meekah, my right hand grips the now unsheathed knife tightly. I’m not taking any chances.
He turns and looks at me over his shoulder. I move my hand to hide the blade. He doesn’t even look down. “Ready?” he asks.
I nod.
“My name’s Ed.”
I don’t volunteer my own.
The ATV rumbles under me as it starts. Clicking into gear, we start moving. The smell of coffee and pipe tobacco drift back to me. The smells relax me; they remind me of my dad. My grip on the knife eases slightly. This sure does beat walking.
The intersection is ahead. My anxiety starts to climb.
Confidently, he pulls up to the light that would typically be blinking red, but now hangs dully. It’s a typically busy four-way stop, but there aren’t any cars around. Voices are barely audible over the sound of the four-wheeler engine. Looking over my right shoulder at the country store, a group of people exiting the store notice us. I don’t know what their intentions are, but I turn to the old man seated inches in front of me. “Go! Go!”
My head and chest are pulled back involuntarily as he speeds across the main road. Using my knife hand to grip the bars beneath me is the only thing that keeps me from falling off the back. Up ahead, a man is running from the direction of a sprawling white farmhouse. He is barreling down the hill straight toward us. I think he’s yelling but I can’t understand the words. The four-wheeler surges beneath me, gaining in speed. The man keeps running at us. If we keep this up, we’re going to run into him. My face slams into Ed’s shoulders as he hits the brakes without warning.
A grunt escapes me. Biting my lip when my face hit him, I taste blood.
No time for that. The running man is now feet away from us. “Nice four-wheeler,” he says.
A knife appears in his hand. It’s a lot bigger than mine. He lunges toward us.
Before I can react, Ed is standing on the running boards with his rifle. He spins it, the butt of the gun smacking the knife hand. The knife clinks as it hits the pavement. In less than a heartbeat, the butt changes direction, slamming into the man’s jaw. The crack of gun against flesh sickens me. The man falls to his knees, spitting out blood and teeth. Meekah is struggling to get off the four-wheeler, her growls are throaty and vicious.
Ed sits, and we are moving swiftly up the road. The man on his hands and knees is dwindling farther and farther behind us. I am thankful to Ed; he just protected us. But I am also surprised at his agility. Maybe one knife strike wouldn’t take him down as easily as I had thought.
It’s not long before we reach the next road; a right-hand turn. We slow enough for me to hear Ed’s voice over the motor. “I didn’t care to take any chances with that guy. I’m sorry you had to see that.”
I don’t know what to say, so again, I say nothing.
Halfway down this road, it turns to dirt. It’s narrow and twists through the trees. There are no houses. I sigh in relief. I realize that I feel safe with Ed.
Minutes later, we reach the intersection with Beard Road. My destination. Tempted to let him take me further, I bite my tongue before asking. We can’t be more than three miles from Ally.
He pulls to a stop at the four-way. There are no stop-signs out here on these roads. It’s just expected that you drive courteously. I let Meekah jump the few feet to the ground. I swing my leg over and dismount. Grabbing my backpack, I find I don’t know how to
properly thank this man. “Thank you,” I say.
He nods.
“Good luck. If I were you, I wouldn’t go back the way we came. That man could have friends.” I offer this advice sincerely. Although, I’m sure he could have figured this out for himself.
“Good luck to you, too. Stay off the roads as much as you can.”
Nodding again, he turns right and heads down the dirt road.
I look down at Meekah. We are alone again.
***
I’m tired. And hungry. I think I’m tired because I’m hungry. I don’t know.
We’re so close. Almost there. This is the mantra that goes through my head on repeat.
Finally turning onto Ally’s road, a sigh of relief heaves through me. This dirt road borders a small river. The gurgling noise of the water washing over rocks is the only noise that I hear. There are houses randomly spaced along this road, but I think most of the residents are elderly. I’ve seen them outside in their gardens or walking their little dogs on my many trips to Ally’s.
My fatigue is making me less nervous. There is a sharp incline on the left side of the road and to the right is the river. There is nowhere for me to go if someone comes. Since I have no choice, I find it bothers me less.
At last, the long straight away that marks the end of this road. At the far end, past Ally’s, it fades into an old logging trail that snakes into the woods; basically, a dead end and no traffic going by. From where I stand now, I can’t be more than half a mile from Ally’s. On the dirt straight away, there is one house on the left and woods on the right. There’s a place for me to hide and no choice but to keep on walking.
I think my luck has finally found me. I hear nothing and see nothing as I near the house to my left. Meekah is quiet beside me.
I’m so close. I only have to pass this last house before I get to Ally’s. Almost there.
Almost, I want to run. But I don’t think I can.
I’m rounding the first gentle corner. If no cars come, I’m in the clear. I’m walking as fast as I can now. I’m rounding the second corner. I can see Ally’s mailbox!
In the distance, I hear a car. Oh, no. I’m so close.
It’s coming closer.
I start to run.
Still coming closer.
I’m almost there!
Skidding to a stop, Meekah easily keeping pace beside me, I start to laugh. The engine sound is coming from in front of me. And the only house left before me is Ally’s. I finish the last hundred feet with a smile. Turning into her driveway, I almost feel euphoric.
We made it.
Chapter Five
Setting Up
The engine noise is Brad’s four-wheeler. It is idling in front of their house. Their house is red with white trim, set far back from the road. Behind the house is a chicken coop, a duck pen complete with a small pool, and a large cleared area for a garden. Smoke rises merrily from the chimney. I feel like I have won the lottery.
Ally and Brad have three large dogs. Meekah has grown up with them and she knows where we are. She lets out an excited bark. I lean down and unclip her leash; she takes off for the house. Ally’s dogs are hounds. Their loud barks tell me that they heard Meekah. I can’t keep the grin off my face as I walk up the dirt driveway. The front door opens and Ally steps out. “Hey!” she calls out to me. “Did you walk here?” she sounds incredulous.
“Not all the way. I’ll tell you in a minute. For now, I’m hungry and cold.”
She motions me in. It’s chaos in the doorway with all four dogs greeting each other and me. We finally all make it indoors. The heat from the woodstove is like crawling into a warm bed. It washes over me, and I feel tears sting my eyes. I am happy and grateful.
The lights are on and I hear the hum of the generator out back. Ally walks over to the woodstove where a heavy-duty pot sits on top. She ladles out a dish of stew; I smell venison, onions, and spices. My mouth is watering. I drop my packs on the wood floor. Suddenly their weight is too much for me. I tear my boots off and drop my jacket on my packs. “I’ll take care of those in a minute.”
Seating myself at the kitchen table, Ally puts the bowl in front of me. It’s hot but I can’t stop myself. It burns my mouth, but I don’t care. I think it’s the best thing I’ve ever eaten.
Brad comes in the back door. “Hey. When did you get here?” he asks me.
I swallow a mouthful. “Just now.”
“What, did you walk? Where’s your car?”
“It’s a long story. Do you have some dog food? Meekah hasn’t eaten since last night. Will you feed her? Then I’ll tell you how I got here.”
Ally nods and goes to fill a bowl of food. Meekah eagerly dives in, the other dogs eyeing her. Brad whistles and they heel to him. I wish Meekah listened like that.
I start my story with waking up the day before. They listen attentively, making the appropriate reactions to each part. Brad seems unsurprised, Ally looks horrified.
“I knew something like this would happen,” he says at the conclusion of my telling.
“I still don’t know what to think,” I say. “It still doesn’t seem real.”
“You know what I think happened?”
I look at him seriously. I’ve been waiting for more than twenty-four hours for some sort of explanation. I knew Brad would have a theory.
“There are hundreds of substations that supply electricity across America. But supposedly, if nine key substations were targeted at once, the entire country would lose power.”
I sit in silence, turning this over in my mind.
“What about the cell phone towers?” I ask.
“Most towers have back up power, but its only meant for the short-term. Four to six hours at most.”
“That fits what happened.”
Ally cuts in. “But who would do that?”
“You don’t think America has made enemies? We’re the most hated country in the world. Jesus, it could have been our own government for Christ’s sake. Who knows?” The look in Brad’s eyes is intense and he’s nearly shouting by the end of this statement.
Ally rolls her eyes at me in a way that Brad can’t see. Clearly, she’s heard this speech before.
“How long until the power is restored? Isn’t there a back-up system?”
“No idea. Depending on what’s happening in other areas, it could be down forever.” He pauses before continuing, “Think about that girls. Think about it. It’ll be every man for himself before long.”
A nightmare future unfolds in my mind. The things people have done in just two days blow my mind, not to mention what could happen if this continues. I don’t want to consider this option.
Ever the optimist, Ally pipes up again, “I think it’ll come back on soon. There’s no way there isn’t a back-up plan. Until then, we’ll hang out, plan for the worst, etc.” She smiles at me reassuringly.
“I need a nap. Can I crash upstairs?”
***
It only takes minutes for me to fall asleep. Meekah is curled beside me, the other dogs and playtime forgotten for the moment.
It’s just beginning to get dark out when my eyes open. I don’t remember what I dreamt of, but I feel uneasy. Feeling hungry again but still blessedly warm, Ally dishes up another bowl of stew when I get downstairs. She pulls a bottle of wine from the refrigerator and dances it back and forth. I nod in agreement.
She comes to the table bearing two glasses of white wine and the cribbage board under one arm. “Where’s Brad?”
“Out. Checking on the birds and the land, I guess. He has a gun.”
I look around the house with a clear head for the first time, I was too overwhelmed earlier. There is a gun by each door, and I can see more through the door leading into their bedroom. The curtains are closed tightly over each window. “Have you seen anyone, besides me?” I ask.
Digging into my food and sipping my wine, I listen attentively while she gives me their version of the last two days. They haven’t seen anyo
ne passing their house headed toward town. The only house farther down this road, near the dead end, is a small farm. No sign of them so far. Before the cell phone towers went down, they both spoke to their parents. Both sides planned to stay home to ride it out. They had heard some yelling and one gunshot the night before but didn’t know where it came from. While less exciting than my story, it was unnerving, nonetheless.
“Are we safe here?” I ask.
“Brad says yes. He thinks that most people interested in hurting each other will tend to stay in the center of town or the cities. We’re a bit off the beaten path and we at least recognize all our neighbors. If someone does come here looking to start something, Brad thinks we’ll be able to defend ourselves.”
“What do you think?”
“I’m not sure. I want to believe him. He says that I’ll be able to protect myself if it comes down to it, but I don’t know if I could shoot someone.” She says this quietly, like it’s something to be ashamed of.
I think about how easy it was to consider stabbing Ed on the four-wheeler.
“I think you’d be able to, if you had to.”
She deals the first round of cribbage. We are silent except for the counting of our points. All four dogs lay contentedly at our feet.
Brad comes in with a whoosh of cold air about a half hour later.
“Everything okay, hun?” Ally asks him.
He nods, his nose and cheeks red from the raw air.
The rest of the night passes quietly. I think each of us are wrapped in our own thoughts. After we eat, I go into the bathroom to wash up. There’s no running water, but their well is full, and they have bucketed in several gallons. Buckets and jugs line the bathroom wall. It’s quick enough to heat some over the woodstove for warm wash water.
Clean at last, Meekah and I return to the full-sized bed up in the loft that we had napped in earlier. I can’t believe that I don’t feel exhausted after the events of the last two days. My body feels tired, but my mind is whirling. If what Brad said is true, or even partly true, my life is forever changed. If what he said is true, we can never go back to the way things were just a few short days ago.
