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

by JEFF MOTES

  We drive out of the woods and back to the gravel pit. Sarge lines everyone up in a convoy. We are the second of the four vehicles.

  Sarge pulls out on the highway and the rest of us follow. He gets up to 35 mph before I start losing ground and he slows back down. I wish we could travel all the way home like this. Ten days. Ten days! We have been trying to get home from the Birmingham area for ten days, and we aren’t even halfway there! I feel Jill lying against my back. She deserves to drool all she wants.

  Chapter 55

  Jill

  I Don’t Want You To

  Day 10

  The rumbling of the ATV is different than the previous nights. The air is warmer, and the wind is stronger. The ATV seems to be vibrating more. I open my eyes. It’s daylight and we’re following Sarge. Darn it! There is a big wet spot on John’s shoulder again. Oh well, at least he bartered for laundry services. And the bath! Yes, I so want a bath! I hope this house Sarge was talking about is clean. It will be good to sleep in a bed again, and I feel as if I could sleep for two days. I should be sleepy. Since we left last night from below Montevallo, the only sleep I’ve had has been on back of the ATV. John’s shoulder feels nice, but I need a pillow. We’re driving through Marion now. I must have slept for nearly an hour. The place looks different. I don’t see many people moving around. We pass by the apartment housing on the right. There is smoke and a large group of people in a gathering. Someone is using a tiller, tearing up the grass. Maybe they’re planting a garden. They aren’t near the road, so I can’t tell for sure. A few kids run toward the road waving. I wave back and it hits me. I’ve seen this before, on TV. I start tearing up. These children are malnourished. I start to weep. Here in America, kids are going hungry!

  Approaching the overpass, there are several men standing on top. A few have rifles, but they aren’t pointed at the convoy.

  “John, do you see them?” I ask.

  “Yes, and I don’t like it.”

  The convoy passes without incident. Soon, we are leaving the town. There are some old tractors at work in the gardens and armed men standing watch. They watch us, but that’s all. A few miles later we turn right down a county road, and then a couple miles later, left onto a dirt road. The road ends about a half mile further, at an older wood frame house. It looks nice. It has green stained wood of some type and a nice front porch. Sarge parks his truck and John pulls beside him. Theo jerks the truck he is driving to a stop. The last truck stops further back, and parks facing the way we drove in.

  The militia men unload and Sarge calls out, “Perimeter security!”

  The men spread out, taking up observation posts. Theo and Cassandra get out separately, and John says, “I’m going to have to show Theo what good manners look like.”

  I slap him lightly on the shoulder. “She isn’t his little sister.”

  “And you aren’t mine either.” John gets off the ATV as he reaches out to help me off. I take his hand and step down. It’s one of those little things I like about John.

  Theo walks up and, hooking a thumb back at the truck, says, “I don’t like a manual transmission.”

  “Let’s get you folks situated,” Sarge says, “then we need to get Cassandra to the doctor.” He steps up onto the porch and opens the door. “There are two bedrooms and a bathroom attached to each bedroom. The water isn’t running, so unless you fetch some water from the creek behind the house, don’t use the toilets. There are a couple of buckets on the back porch. There is this great room, the kitchen, which has a gas stove you can light with matches from the drawer next to the stove, and some other rooms which won’t concern you.”

  “Sarge, who do we thank for the use of this house?” I ask.

  “That would be me. You’re welcome. I’m staying back at the camp. Anderson and Joe will be providing security. You’ll have to feed them with some of the food that will be brought over later. Make yourselves at home. Theo, Cassandra, we should go.”

  I give Cassandra a hug. “We’ll see you shortly.”

  She smiles faintly and says, “Yes, later.”

  John and I are alone in the house. Sitting on the couch, he says, “Looks like you’re the woman of the house for now. The room on the right or the room on the left?”

  I open the door on the right. It looks like a room a woman would decorate. It definitely doesn’t look like one Sarge would use. I surmise the one on the left is Sarge’s room and probably sparsely decorated. “This room will do. Let’s go get our things.”

  John jumps to his feet. “I’ll take care of our things. Go lie down and rest.”

  I start for the door. “I will, but let me help you first.”

  He is by my side in a flash and scoops me up in his arms, carries me to the bedroom, and sits me on the bed. He spins me around and I lie back on the pillow.

  He takes my shoes off and sets them next to the wall then says, “Your Glock?”

  I wiggle it out of my waistband and he sets it on the side table.

  “Jill,” he says as he bends over, “I know my shoulder is nice, but you need this pillow. Get some sleep.” Then he kisses me on the forehead and heads to the door. “Call me, if you need me. I’ll be in here.”

  “John, please don’t sleep in there.”

  “I won’t, Jill. I’ve got a few things to do before I can lie down. I’ll be back.” He closes the door and I lie back down. I’m so tired. I’m out like a light.

  ***

  When I awaken, it’s dark outside. I reach over to touch John, but he isn’t there. I panic for a moment, then remember we have security outside. But what if… I get out of bed. It’s too dark to see. I pull my keychain light out of my pocket and turn it on. Retrieving my Glock, I head for the door. There is a faint light coming from underneath the door. I open it slowly, with my Glock in hand. There’s a candle on the coffee table, but no one present. Noise is coming from the back. There’s a dim light in there too. It’s the kitchen.

  On the table is a big pot and John is getting bowls from the cabinet. He looks at me and sees the Glock and raises his hands. “I surrender!”

  I laugh and holster my Glock. “When have you ever surrendered?”

  He pauses briefly as in thought. “This afternoon, when two militia men pointed their rifles at me, and just now when a beautiful woman pulled her Glock on me.”

  “John, you are impossible,” I say. “If I’m to believe what you say, don’t tell me I’m beautiful when I look like this.”

  “Well, you are kind of scruffy looking right now, your hair is a mess and you don’t smell like apple blossoms, but allow me the liberty of thinking of you as beautiful.”

  “Okay, John, you are free to think what you want. Is that supper?”

  “Yes, they just brought it over and it’s still hot. Red beans and rice. There’s some meat in there too. There is also some cornbread and milk. I’ve already given Anderson and Joe their portion. So… would you care to join me for a candlelight dinner?”

  Smiling, I say, “Yes, I would like that. Where are Theo and Cassandra?”

  “The doctor wants to keep Cassandra overnight, and Theo is staying with her.”

  The meal is pleasant. The small talk with John feels natural. I like his company. Taking the dishes to the sink, we both clean things up in the cold water. John sets a big pot on the stove and fills it with water and lights the gas. I look at him inquiringly. “Well,” he says, “with a little warm water, you might be able to do something about that scruffy look, messy hair, and rotten apple smell.”

  “John!” I chuckle. “I don’t have any clean clothes.”

  “If you don’t mind them being a little baggy, I can let you use some of mine.”

  He carries the hot water to the bathroom and pours it in the tub, then he pours in some cold water. “I’m sorry there isn’t enough to make for a soaking bath.” He turns to walk out, then says, “Get what you want from my bag and I’ll make do with whatever is left.”

  I open his pack and dig a
round. All I find that I can wear is the olive drab shirt he loaned me back at the barn and my choice of two pairs of boxers. One gray, the other black. I choose the black. As an afterthought, I get his razor from his hygiene kit. Just in case. In the bathroom, I slip into the tub. The water isn’t hot, but it isn’t cold, only slightly warm. Well, it beats nothing. I’m really glad John made it part of the deal. I reach for the body wash. Apple blossoms!

  When I’m done with my bath, I put John’s shirt and boxers on. I’m going to have to be careful with those boxers because they are way too big. I dig around in the cabinets until I find some ribbons. Tying several together, I make a belt of sorts, and tie it around my waist to keep John’s boxers from falling down.

  I open the door and walk out. John is digging in his bag. Without looking up, he asks, “Do you know where my razor is? I took a bath in…” He looks up at me and stops speaking. He’s staring with his mouth open.

  I blush, though with only the candlelight in the room, I’m sure he can’t tell. “I’m sorry, John. I used it on my legs. I can’t find mine.”

  “Ah…yeah…no problem. I mean, I don’t mind…ah…can I use it now?” His eyes haven’t moved from me.

  I say, pointing behind me into the bathroom, “Do you want me to get it for you or do you want to shave in there?”

  He doesn’t say anything.

  “John?”

  He shakes out of whatever trance he’s in. “I’ll shave in there.” He walks by, close by.

  I catch my breath as he passes. Trying to regain my composure, I pull the covers down and get in under the sheet. John returns and stands on the opposite side. My heart is starting to race as I wonder what this night might bring.

  “Jill,” he says, “uh, maybe I should sleep in the other room.”

  I sit up, “John, please don’t. I don’t want you to.”

  He gets into the bed and stays on his side. We turn toward each other. I reach out with my hand, and John takes it in his. We are both looking at each other in the dim candlelight as our eyes close in sleep.

  Chapter 56

  Jill

  I Have To

  Day 11

  I’m awake. Daybreak is at hand, and the light is dimly invading the bedroom. John is stirring, yet he continues to hold my hand. A little later his hold lessens and he starts to get up. I squeeze his hand harder and he eases back into his pillow. His shape is becoming more distinct as the morning light returns.

  The experiences of the past nine days have only drawn us closer to each other. A bond has been formed. Maybe it was formed out of necessity, but perhaps necessity only accelerated what was meant to be. He is looking at me, not saying anything. I look back, eagerly awaiting enough light to see into his blue eyes. I told him I would not leave him, nor forsake him. I told him where he went, I would go. I said I would not part ways with him. Did I really mean it?

  I reflect on the events since The Day. Since the barn, really. I’ve known John most of my life. The things I have seen and experienced the past few days have revealed a depth to the man that I never knew before. How he has gone from extreme violence to tender caring in a matter of moments. I’ve seen rage growing inside him, only to be defeated by his inner man; and instead of vengeance, he granted forgiveness. I’ve seen him weep from having to do such violent things, yet he didn’t shrink from such violence to save people he didn’t even know. A man that can become so violent so fast, is he someone I can trust with my life? Is he someone I can trust with more than my life—my heart, my very being? Can I trust him to care for Lizzy, the daughter of a man I know he despises? He is still gazing into my eyes without speaking. I look into his, searching for an answer.

  The answer is yes. John is a trustworthy man. I have known that all my life. He has not abandoned me. He has placed my comfort before his. He has placed my life before his own. Yes, I do trust him with more than my life. I trust him with Lizzy’s life. I trust him with my heart. He is the man I want to spend the rest of my life with, whether that be long or short.

  I’ve seen the look in his eyes as he attempted to tell me something from deep inside, only to have events foil his efforts. He has never once reached out during the night to draw me to him. Had he done so, I would not have resisted. The fire in his eyes last night and the internal struggle I sensed inside him when he suggested sleeping in the other room tell me volumes about what this man feels. The truth is, I don’t want to be parted from him.

  Still gazing into his eyes as the morning light tints them with blue, I say, “John, when we get home, I’m willing, if you want and if you love me. Sooner, if you can’t wait.” I hope he understands my words.

  His eyes grow wider and his breathing becomes deeper and stronger. After a few moments, he says, “Jill, I’m not sure how to express what I feel. Your presence gives me courage and strength. The touch of your hand gives me comfort and peace. The smile on your face brings joy to my heart. The sound of your breathing makes me want to protect you. Your beauty makes my heart race. Your gentle spirit fills me with a glow. Jill, I love you more than I love my own life. As long as I have breath, I will love you.”

  Tears are flowing down my cheeks.

  He releases my hand and touches my cheek softly. “Please don’t cry.”

  “I have to, John. I have to.”

  “Jill, these past few days have shown me what I already knew. You are a woman full of strength and intelligence. You have been faithful by my side, even risking your life for me. I know things are moving so fast for us, yet they seem so slow. I wish the time was different, that I could court you and win your heart and your love. Your father was right; you are a woman to ride the river of life with. I don’t want to be parted from you. I want to share all that I am and all that I have with you. I want you to be my wife.”

  My tears flow even more. “Wife? You want me to be your wife?”

  “Yes. Jill, there is no greater expression of my love for you than asking you to be my wife.”

  “Oh, John.” I place my hand on his cheek. “You are the best man I have ever met. I have always loved you. I have always trusted you. Ever since the fifth grade when you came to my rescue, I have loved you.”

  We continue to lie there in silence for a few more moments, then, having managed to stifle my tears, I ask, “Won’t it be hard to get a marriage license now?”

  John grins. “I’m not asking the state of Alabama if I can marry you. I’m asking you to be my wife. I don’t need permission from the state. All I need is your consent and a witness before God.”

  “I gladly consent to being your wife. Where will we find the witness before God?”

  “I know where a preacher lives. I can wait a little longer.”

  My heart is full and I move closer, kissing him softly on the lips. The pace of his breathing increases as he kisses me more firmly. I start to mold into his arms, then he stops.

  “Jill, we better get up or I won’t be able to wait.”

  I smile. “I love you, John Carter. I can wait a little longer too. How about coffee on the front porch?”

  “Yes, the first of many for years to come.”

  ***

  Sitting on the front porch with John feels so right. Sharing the first cup of coffee of the day with the man I love brings a smile to my face. Despite all the turmoil, despite the constant peril, I’m actually happy. Even though we have been traveling for more than ten days and haven’t even made it halfway home, I feel content.

  We hear a truck coming down the dirt road. I glance at John nervously. He has his Glock on his hip and carbine at the door. I didn’t have anywhere to tuck my Glock, since I’m still in John’s shirt and boxers, so I left it on the nightstand. John doesn’t appear nervous or concerned. Our security should be around somewhere, though I don’t see them.

  “Right on time,” he says, checking at his watch. Jill, we’re having a little company.” Then glancing over at my legs, he says, “You may want to put some pants on. Would you mind heating some
more water?”

  “Company? What company?”

  “You’ll see. We may get some good news. I don’t know for sure.”

  “Sure, John, keep everything a mystery.”

  I walk back inside and find my pants. Maybe they’re coming for our dirty clothes. If so, I’m going to have to take them right back off. I heat more water in the kitchen. Our coffee supply is dwindling; there’s enough for maybe six more cups.

  While in the kitchen, I hear voices on the front porch. I walk out and see John, Sarge, and another man.

  John says, “Captain Kelly, this is my fiancé, Jill Barnes. Jill, this is Captain William Kelly, Commander of the Perry County Militia.”

  I extend my hand. “Pleased to meet you, ma’am.” Captain Kelly takes my hand. “I’ve heard of your bravery in the recent action above Marion.”

  “Thank you, Captain. It’s a pleasure to meet you, however, I’m not a very brave person.”

  “I beg to differ,” John says. “I think you are very brave.”

  “Did I hear you say fiancé?” Sarge asks.

  “Yes. You said we worked well as a team,” John answers. “We decided to team up permanently. This morning I asked Jill to marry me and she said yes.”

  Sarge asks, “Do you need a preacher? We have one back at camp.”

  “We’ll see, depending on how our conversation goes in a few minutes.”

  “I have water ready for coffee,” I say. “Would you gentlemen care for some?”

  Sarge and Captain Kelly both respond, “Yes, black please.”

  I return to the kitchen and fix Sarge, Captain Kelly, and John a cup and return with a tray.

  After handing each man a cup of coffee and receiving thanks from each, Sarge says, “Everything is set. I’ve already talked with Theo. He’s okay with everything. We’ll have to spend the night, so you’re going to have to put us up.”

  “That’s not going to be a problem,” John says.

  “We’ll be back at lunch with a meal,” Sarge says with a nod, “then we can leave.”

  Both men rise. He and Captain Kelly say goodbye and leave.