Once Upon an Apocalypse: Book 1 - The Journey Home - Revised Edition

by JEFF MOTES

  The guys laugh. “Of course, little lady,” the first one says. “All we want is our pay, then we’ll leave you fine folks alone.”

  “How many are there of you?” she asks.

  “Just me and Jimmy here. Come on over here by the truck and we’ll get this over with.”

  Her voice steady, seemingly resigned to her fate, the woman asks, “Do you have water? We haven’t had any water in nearly a day.”

  “Jimmy, throw them four bottles of water. After you pay up, I’ll give you four more.”

  “Food. Do you have any food?” she asks hopefully. “At least some for my children.”

  I sense strength in this woman. She knows what’s going to happen, yet she is still looking out for her children.

  “What do you think we are, a grocery store?” the guy responds in an irritated voice. “No, I don’t have any food. Now you come over here and pay up or we’ll take it out on the kids first. But we aren’t cruel men. Jimmy, throw those two brats a candy bar.”

  “Lisa, don’t do it,” the man at the campfire says. “Don’t do it.”

  The woman turns to him. “Tim, this is your fault,” the woman says. “I tried to get you to leave a week ago and you refused. I tried to get you to go around Brent. You refused and we lost the four-wheeler and our guns. I tried to get you not to stop here, yet you did and…and….” She turns to the first guy. “Okay, but on the other side of the truck. I don’t want my children to see.”

  Jimmy claps his hands.

  “Okay, little lady,” the leader says. “Jimmy, you shoot that spineless excuse for a man if he makes any moves. When I’m finished, you can have your turn.”

  The woman walks toward him.

  My blood is boiling, but do I have any obligation to these people? If I risk my life and something happens to me, what will happen to Jill? I could slip back to Jill and wait until these bastards leave. Then I think of what was going to happen to Jill at the barn, and Mark’s daughter and her friend.

  All that is necessary for evil to abound is for good men to do nothing.

  I am a good man and I refuse to do nothing. There is no doubt what I must do. This is not going to happen. That spineless husband is useless, but I’m not going to let these bastards have their way.

  “Drop your guns and raise your hands, or I’m going to blow your stinking heads off!” I say loudly and firmly.

  Everyone freezes. No one speaks. The IR laser is dancing on the guy’s head. If he raises that shotgun, I’m going to kill him.

  “Drop those damn guns, now!”

  “Come on now, mister, we’re just collecting on a little debt,” the guy says. “We weren’t going to hurt nobody. Come on down and you can have some too…” He spins and raises his shotgun. I pull the trigger in two rapid successions. The 147 grain 9mm Remington Golden Saber sub-sonic bullet exits the barrel at 990 feet per second. It travels the seventy-five feet in less than one tenth of a second. The first bullet punches through the guy’s right eye. The second follows quickly behind, punching through the middle of his forehead before his body can start to crumple. A pink mist spews out the back as a golf ball size hole opens up in the back of his head.

  The one called Jimmy is covered with the guy’s brains. He drops his gun and screams, “Don’t shoot! Don’t shoot!”

  The woman is frozen in her tracks. The kids are crying. The man stands there with his mouth hanging open.

  “Nobody move!” I move out of the brush toward the camp. The woman gasps. The kids scream and run to their daddy. The man still has his mouth hanging open. Jimmy is crying, “Please don’t kill me. Please don’t. Honest, we weren’t going to hurt anyone. Really, we weren’t!”

  Flipping up my NVD I walk over with my carbine at the ready position, scanning each person. “Shut up! Shut up, now!” I move closer to the bastard and he falls to the ground begging. I put the carbine on his forehead and ask, “Are there any more of you? If you lie to me and I hear something coming, I’m going to kill you.” The bastard is shaking; a wet spot is forming at his crotch.

  “No, it was only me and Billy Ray. Honest. I swear. Please don’t kill me! Please, I beg you. Don’t kill me!”

  “Shut up or I’m going to kill you right now.” With the carbine still on his forehead, I reach down and pick up the shotgun. It’s a Mossberg pump 20 gauge. Making sure it’s on safety, I toss it far to the side. Turning my gaze toward the woman, I say, “Ma’am, why don’t you tend to your kids?” She shakes out of the daze, picks up the water and candy bars, and goes to her children.

  “Pumper to Barney,” I say into the radio. “Everything is okay. Please drive down. Use your light only if you have to, and turn it off after getting here.”

  “Copy. Barney out.”

  The ATV is not audible until it’s about twenty-five yards away. Mark did good when he silenced that thing. Jill stops and gets off the ATV. She catches her breath when she sees the guy dead on the ground. She tilts her head at the other guy. “Is he dead too?”

  “Not yet. Take your Ruger and hold it on his head. If he moves, pull the trigger.”

  Jill does as I asked. Walking over to the wood pile, I add the remaining wood to the fire. The blaze brightens up. Then I open the truck door and turn the lights off. On the dash right above the steering wheel is a nearly full roll of duct tape.

  To the bastard on the ground I say, “Hold out your hands!” He does, and I duct tape them together from the elbows down. “Pick up your feet!” I duct tape them from the knees down. “Jill, use your light. See if there is any food in the truck. If it is, bring it out to these people. If not, get one of our emergency ration bars.”

  For the first time, I walk toward the family. The man immediately stands up and speaks harshly. “Why did you kill that man? He wasn’t going to hurt us. He said he was going to leave. You didn’t have to kill him. You’re a murderer!”

  That’s more than I can take from this spineless excuse for a man. I swing my right fist, connecting it with the side of his chin. He crumples to the ground. Surprisingly, the woman just stares at the man on the ground, says nothing, and does nothing.

  “Jill is getting you all some food,” I say. “My name is John. How did you find yourself in this situation and where are you going?”

  “My name is Lisa. Thank you for what you did. I have an uncle and other family, living in the country above Montevallo. I tried to get Tim—he’s my useless husband—to leave our home the day after the EMP. He refused, saying everything would be back to normal. He finally agreed when our neighbor’s house was set on fire the day before yesterday and we loaded up on the four-wheeler. I tried to get him to drive around Brent. He said it was too far to do that. At Brent they confiscated our gun and four-wheeler. They escorted us to this side of town and gave us each two bottles of water and one candy bar. Then they said, ‘Goodbye and don’t come back.’ I knew we shouldn’t have stopped here, especially after reading that sign. I guess you heard what was said?”

  “I heard everything.”

  “Please don’t judge me,” Lisa says. “I was only going to do what I had to do to keep my children alive.”

  “I’m not judging you at all. I think you are a brave woman. What’s your uncle’s name?”

  “My uncle’s name is George and my aunt’s name is Betty. I have a cousin named Mark that lives close by too.”

  Jill hands Lisa the emergency ration bar. “I’m Jill,” she says.

  “Jill,” I say with a little bit of wonder in my tone, “this is Lisa, George and Betty’s niece.”

  “What?” Jill exclaims.

  Lisa looks confused. “What’s going on?”

  “I’ll let Jill explain, but first, what do you want me to do with him?” I glance at Tim, still out cold on the ground.

  “Can I have the truck and one of the shotguns?” Lisa asks.

  I look at Jill, who shrugs, so I answer, “Sure, no problem. What about him?” Again, I nod toward Tim.

  “I can’t leave h
im here,” Lisa says bitterly. “He’ll only tell whoever comes along where we went. Can you tape him up and put him in the back of the truck?”

  A smile spreads across my face. This woman is smart and tough. “It would be my pleasure. Jill, you and Lisa bring each other up to speed. I’m sorry we don’t have much time to socialize. I want to be leaving in twenty minutes.”

  I walk over to the bastard on the ground, turn him over, and pull his billfold. His name is Jimmy Jackson. He has a Montevallo address. “Jimmy, you are a low down bastard. I ought to kill you. Instead, I’m going to leave you on the side of the road, right here with this other bastard.”

  He starts crying and cursing.

  “I can put an end to that too.” Grabbing the roll of duct tape I put four wraps around his mouth and head, then use my knife to make a cut at his lips for him to get air. I lay him right next to his dead friend, placing the ‘Help yourself’ sign on his chest. I pick up the other shotgun, set the safety, and place it and the first shotgun on the dash inside the truck. The fuel gauge indicates it’s half full. That should be more than enough for Lisa to make it to George and Betty’s house. In back of the truck there’s a half case of bottled water. I load Tim into the back of the truck. He has regained consciousness and is struggling and trying to speak, but the duct tape keeps him secured and his mouth shut. What a useless, spineless man.

  I pull a piece of paper and a pen from my pack and jot down a note, replace the magazine in my carbine, and walk back to the women. My adrenaline rush is crashing, and I’m feeling weak and nauseated. “I’m sorry we can’t stay and talk,” I say. “Did y’all bring each other up to date?”

  “We did,” Jill says, “but I do wish we had more time.”

  I hand Lisa the hand sketched map from George. “Lisa, I wish we had more time, but we have to get home ourselves. George gave me this map, and it got us to this point from his house. If you follow it back, you can avoid Montevallo and maybe hold on to this truck. Here’s a note I’ve written for Mark and George. It’s important they get it. Don’t stop for anybody, for any reason. If you have to, run them over. Here’s a 38 revolver. Do you know how to use one?”

  “I do,” Lisa replies. “That’s like the one I had that the Brent police took.”

  “Okay then, let’s get everybody loaded up and get moving.”

  Chapter 46

  Jill

  Talking With Lisa

  Day 9

  I am completely amazed. How do things like this happen? George and Betty’s niece!

  Looking at her, I’m guessing the clothes Betty gave me were Lisa’s. “Lisa, I’m so glad you and your children are okay and that John was able to help you. We met George and Betty a few days ago. They helped us a lot.”

  “Thank you, and I’m so glad your husband was here. He’s a good man, much better than this thing I have here.” She nods toward Tim, taped up on the ground. “We live on the other side of Brent. I tried to get Tim to go over to Uncle George’s the day after the EMP. He refused. He said I was overreacting and the government would have everything back to normal in a few days. Things started getting really bad about five days after. People were running out of food. We were running out too, only eating a bare minimum. The day before yesterday, a gang attacked our next door neighbors and burned their house. It was only then that Tim would agree to leave.”

  Lisa pauses for a minute, giving each of her children a piece of the emergency ration bar. She nibbles on a piece and says, “Thank you. We haven’t eaten anything since yesterday morning. Do you know what time it is?”

  “I’m not sure exactly, it must be getting close to four.”

  “We drained the water from our hot water heater,” Lisa says, “and from the back of the toilets, and put it in bottles. There wasn’t much water left when we decided to leave. We only had maybe a day’s worth of food left. The four-wheeler was packed. It didn’t have a rack or anything like that. We had to tie everything on. The kids had to ride on the seat with us. I asked Tim to drive around Brent. He refused as before. When we got there, we were met by armed men who said they worked for the police. They said the president had ordered that all firearms and motorized vehicles be confiscated from civilians. When Tim asked them how we were going to be able to get to my uncle’s, they said it wasn’t their problem. They also said we couldn’t stay in town. They escorted us to the city limits, gave us each two bottles of water and a candy bar.”

  Lisa nibbles some more and helps her children drink more water, then continues, “I told Tim we shouldn’t stop on the side of the road, that we needed to camp in the woods. But he said there was a nice pile of wood right here someone had left for us to use. After reading the sign, I thought it was a trap. I should have been more forceful, but I guess it was a good thing, since your husband showed up. Now we have a chance of getting there with the truck. I thought we were going to die trying to get to Uncle George’s.” She looks up with tears in her eyes. “I was only going to do what I had to do. I want my children to live. I thank God for your husband!”

  I smile. I thank God for John too.

  I watch John as he loads Tim into the back of the truck. How is he still going? He has got to be exhausted. He goes over to the ATV, takes out a notepad, and starts writing. He dragged the other guy over by the dead body. I wonder if he killed him. No, he didn’t, I decide. John is not a murderer.

  “Why did you ask John to tape your husband up?” I ask.

  Lisa chuckles. “You better ask your husband. Of all the things your husband did tonight, that was probably the best thing for me. What about you? Where are you traveling to, and how did you come to meet my uncle?”

  “John and I are trying to get back home to Jackson, in Clarke County. We’ve had a pretty tough go of it. We have both been traveling since the day after The Day. I don’t have time to tell you the whole story. Your Aunt Betty can tell you more about how we met.”

  Lisa watches John come closer. “At least you have a real man to travel with. Be thankful for that.”

  I am thankful.

  “I’m sorry we can’t stay and talk,” John says. Did y’all bring each other up to date?”

  “We did, but I do wish we had more time.”

  John hands her the hand sketched map George gave him.

  “Lisa, I wish we had more time, but we have to get home ourselves. George gave me this map, and it got us to this point from his house. If you follow it back, you can avoid Montevallo and maybe hold on to this truck. Here’s a note I’ve written for Mark and George. It’s important they get it. Don’t stop for anybody, for any reason. If you have to, run them over. Here’s a 38 revolver. Do you know how to use one?”

  “I do,” Lisa replies. “That’s like the one I had that the Brent police took.”

  “Okay then, let’s get everybody loaded up and get moving.”

  I help Lisa load up her kids and the few possessions they have. John opens the door for her to get in. Good ole John. I guess some things will never change. Lisa starts to get in, then hops out and hugs John hard for a moment. Then, releasing him and wiping a tear from her eye, she says, “Thank you. You have saved my family. I will never forget what you and your wife have done for us. I pray God will keep you safe.” She gets in the truck, waves, and pulls out onto the pavement.

  John puts the campfire out, then mounts the ATV. I climb on behind him. When I touch his back with my hands, I feel his body shaking.

  “John, are you okay?”

  His body continues to shake. It’s too dark to see his face.

  “Jill, I’m not a cold blooded killer.”

  Sensing his need, I say, “John, you are a good man. You did what you had to do. Lisa and her family are alive because of what you did. I know you are not a cold blooded killer. You are the best man I have ever met.”

  His shaking gradually diminishes. “Thank you, Jill. Thank you.”

  He gives the ATV fuel and we resume our journey toward home.

  Over his shou
lder he says, “It’s 4:00. We can’t make it around Brent before daylight. Based on what Lisa said, we can’t go through either. We need to find a place to camp for the day. I need to rest.”

  “Of course, John. Find us a place and let’s set up camp.”

  About fifteen minutes later John stops the ATV. “Wait here; I want to check this path off the road.” He dismounts and walks down the embankment. A few minutes later he returns and says, “I think this will work. I’m going to drive into the woods and see what we find.” He directs the ATV down the embankment. It’s too dark for me to see much, but it seems as if the underbrush is thick around the path. Further in, the underbrush is thinner. John turns into the woods, drives a ways from the path, and stops. “If it’s okay with you, let’s set up camp here. It’s not too thick.”

  “Looks good to me,” I say, although I can’t see much at all.

  “Let’s wait for a little daylight before we set up camp. It’ll be easier. It shouldn’t be much longer.”

  “I think that’s best. I couldn’t help you in the dark. Are you hungry? I forgot about the lunch Betty fixed for us.”

  “I did too, and yes, I’m starving!”

  I open the bag. Inside are four roast beef sandwiches and a bunch of chocolate chip cookies in a ziplock bag. I pull out two sandwiches and hand one to John, “There are two more in here, plus Betty packed some cookies.”

  John removes his head gear. “Thanks.”

  As I’m finishing half of my sandwich, John asks, “Can I have another one?”

  “Wow, John. You really are hungry.”

  I pass him another sandwich and we eat in silence. John is leaning back on one side of the ATV and I’m leaning back on the opposite side. A faint brightening of the sky begins.

  “This is my favorite part of the day,” John says, “when day breaks and nature comes to life. Listen for the birds singing their beautiful songs.”

  I listen. Yes, the birds are singing sweetly. It was nicer hearing them from the soft bed at Betty’s, yet it’s nice here too.