Society Lost- The Complete Series

by Steven Bird

  Regaining his composure, the man turned and waved to another fellow that Jessie had yet to notice standing at the far side of the bridge. “Just get her somewhere safe,” the man said. “You’ll see mostly friendlies for the next mile or so. They’ll spread the word to let you pass without harm. Once you get clear of the peninsula and south of the lake, make sure you don’t find yourself on the south side of 411.”

  Tipping his hat to the man, Jessie nodded, “Thanks, but what’s on the south side of 411?”

  “I…we… don’t really know for sure. But folks who’ve gone hunting in the hills down that way tend not to come back. It’s best to just go east or west when you hit 411, for a ways at least, before turning south.”

  “I appreciate the intel. Thanks and best of luck, friend,” Jessie said with a nod as he nudged Hank forward toward the bridge.

  “You, too, mister. You, too.” The man waved as he watched them ride away.

  As Hank carried Jessie and Britney across the bridge, Jessie could see bullet impact marks on virtually every inch of the green, metal bridge. Most of them seemed to follow a stream of fire as if fired by fully automatic weapons. He could only imagine what the man behind him had been through if he had been in the area the entire time.

  Reaching the far side of the bridge, a younger man in his late twenties to early thirties nodded to Jessie as he and Britney rode by. “God bless,” the man said with a smile.

  Returning the smile and the kind words with a nod and a tip of his hat, it warmed Jessie’s heart to run across what appeared, at least, to be good people with their fellow American’s well-being at heart. People had lost so much. Many of the survivors had lost nearly everyone and everything they had. Some crumbled under the weight of it all, and some soldiered on, doing what they knew was right.

  As they rode on past the Dandridge Municipal Park, they saw the remains of an old, wooden playground that lay in disarray. It was as if people had been harvesting its wood for their other needs, leaving behind the skeletal remains of what once was.

  With one final bridge crossing ahead to get them clear of Douglas Lake, Jessie rode to within a hundred yards before gently reining Hank to a stop.

  “What’s wrong?” Britney murmured.

  “Oh, I’m just waiting for the trolls to appear,” he replied, looking back to her with a crooked smile.

  Right on cue, a man appeared from beneath the bridge and waved them toward him. As they approached, Jessie could see that he, too, carried a well-worn AK-74M.

  “Howdy,” the man said with a smile. “You’d be the one they sent word about, I presume?”

  “I guess that would be me,” replied Jessie with a nod. “Word travels fast with you good folks.”

  “I reckon it does. I suppose they warned you not to go due south of 411, didn’t they?”

  “I heard such a thing,” confirmed Jessie. “Might I ask why? The other gentlemen said you folks really don’t know.”

  “Sadly, that’s true. Most of us who are left around here have seen and heard enough to know how to stay alive. We know the area, and we know everyone who’s left. We’ve lost a lot of people to those hills, and we’ve never been able to nail down exactly why. We’ve heard lots of stories, but most of it seems to be the rantings of those who’ve seen and done too much to think straight anymore.”

  “What sort of stories?” Jessie asked.

  “Nonsense, I tell ya. Anyway, once you get beyond this bridge, you’re on your own. Our little network of lookouts ends with me. Keep that in mind. Don’t assume anyone else is friendly. They may be, but they also may not be. You may not find out until it’s too late.”

  “I’ve come a long way and managed to stay alive for a few thousand miles by doing just that,” Jessie said as he tipped his hat. “Best of luck to you good folks,” he added as he urged Hank forward.

  “Likewise, mister,” the man replied as they rode away. “You take good care of that girl!” he shouted.

  “They seem like good people,” Jessie said to Britney.

  Mumbling in reply, Britney responded, “So did the people at the camp who asked us to get on the bus. They also waved and smiled as we drove away.”

  With a sigh, Jessie guided Hank until they were well clear of the bridge, then brought him to a stop and suggested, “Let’s stretch our legs for a bit while I check the map.”

  Dismounting and then helping Britney down off the saddlebags, Jessie removed a laminated map from his pocket and looked around to get his bearings straight. “Just a little farther south and this road merges with 411. Since that was Nate’s goal, I think we should set up camp in a position where we can keep an eye on 411 and wait to see a sign of him. I’m sure he’ll have the same thing in mind.”

  “What if he doesn’t show up?”

  “He will,” Jessie assured her.

  “No offense, mister, but chances are he didn’t make it.”

  “I dunno,” Jessie replied. “You may be right, but I saw a fire in his belly that gives me a glimmer of hope that he did.”

  “Hope?” she chided. “Hope hasn’t worked very well for me so far. My family and I had hope,” she mourned, and tears welled up in her eyes.

  Reaching out to wipe a tear from her cheek, she recoiled away from him. He looked down at the ground and explained, “I understand where you’re coming from. I really do. You and I aren’t so different. I’ve lost everything to this cruel, heartless world, the same as you. The only difference is, I’ve had a little more time to heal, whereas your wounds are fresh. I’ve seen a lot of suffering during my travels, but I’ve also made some amazing friends who stood up to those who took advantage of the situation to oppress others. Those people give me the hope I need to press on.”

  Attempting to smile while fighting back her tears, Britney asked, “But really, what if he doesn’t show up? We can’t live on hope forever.”

  “No, we can’t. We’ve got to balance our hope with our surroundings and resources. That’s a good question, though. Nate talked of a group where he planned on taking you, where you could be safe and begin a new life for yourself with people you can trust. He and I just happened to be heading in the same direction, although my exact destination is unknown. My plan was to tag along with him to help get you where you needed to be, and then be on my way from there.

  “Without him, though,” Jessie continued, “well, that muddies the waters a bit. Let’s give him a day to get out of whatever bind he’s gotten himself into on our behalf. If he doesn’t show by tomorrow evening, we’ll need to get on the move.”

  Once back on the road, the two kept their thoughts of what had been and what would be to themselves. Jessie kept a keen eye on their surroundings while watching for signs from Hank that he might sense something as well.

  With 411 and the remains of the town of Chestnut Hill in the distance to the south, Jessie pointed and suggested, “Let’s move off the road now and hug that overgrown fence line to the left. Then, we’ll make camp on that wooded hill up ahead. We should be able to see our surroundings from there, and it will give us several ways to get away from a threat, as well.”

  Once they’d set up camp, Jessie used a brown canvas tarp and a length of paracord to build a shelter for Britney to sleep under. Her exhaustion was evident, and she quickly succumbed to the weight of her eyelids, falling fast asleep.

  She desperately needs a good night’s sleep, he thought as he gathered some forage for Hank to eat.

  With everyone in camp settled in for the night, Jessie leaned back against a large oak tree overlooking 411 and got comfortable. Looking up at the stars that were appearing overhead as the last rays of the day’s sun faded into memory, Jessie thought, Nate, I hope you’re enjoying this view as well. Hang in there, buddy.

  Chapter Four

  Awakened by a loud roar and the screams of a young girl, Jessie leapt to his feet and grabbed his rifle. To his horror, Britney was no longer asleep under the shelter he had built for her. Running through the woo
ds in the darkness, Jessie desperately shouted, “Britney!” as her screams seemed to get farther and farther away.

  Barely able to see due to the canopy of the woods blocking the moonlight, Jessie crashed through brush and briars, ignoring the pain in order to keep up his frantic pace. Reaching the edge of the woods, Jessie ran into a clearing, only to find a large, black bear standing in front of him, baring its blood-covered teeth as the bear’s powerful paw struck him in the side of the head.

  Falling to the ground, Jessie struggled to his feet only to find that the sun was now cresting the eastern horizon, his rifle was still leaning against the tree where he had left it, and in the first rays of the morning’s light, he could see that Britney was still safe and sound underneath her makeshift shelter.

  As his heart rate started to slow, he reached for his rifle and began to wipe the dew from it with a cloth he pulled from his pocket. That simple act helped to convince him of the reality of his situation after such a vivid and horrifying nightmare.

  Removing a small, cylindrical backpacker-sized rocket stove from his saddlebags, Jessie placed it on a small patch of dirt clear of anything combustible on the ground. He gathered a few dry twigs and small sticks, breaking them into the appropriate size for the small stove.

  Once the stove was all set up and full of twigs, he heard Britney yawn and ask, “What’s that?”

  “It’s a rocket stove,” he replied.

  “I thought you didn’t think we should have fires?”

  “Well, at night, a fire of any size could be seen from too far away, but this little guy here,” he said, pointing to the small stove, “won’t be seen in the daylight. It’s what they call a rocket stove. You put your fuel in this little tube on the side, and when the air is drawn in and around the burning wood from underneath, it’s preheated before reaching the combustion chamber, which makes it burn a lot cleaner. A small fire in one of these, using the right materials, will hardly produce any smoke at all. They’re perfect for cooking in situations like this.”

  “Cooking?” she asked, perking up at the thought of a warm meal.

  Smiling, he explained, “Yes, I figured you could use a good, hot meal. A few days before I bumped into you and Nate, I came across a trading post of sorts. It was a place where people in the local area could trade with those, like me, who were passing through. A few of the folks there were trading dehydrated food for whatever goods the travelers had.”

  “Did they have electricity there?”

  “No. No, they were still without power like most everyone else, except for, well, government facilities. They had built themselves solar dehydrators. They’re simple really. Back before the attacks, people thought you had to have electricity for everything, even something as natural as dehydrating food, but that’s just not the case. Electricity should never have been seen as anything more than a luxury, not a way of life.”

  Chuckling at the thought of it all, Jessie pushed a bundle of twigs into the opening on the side of the stove and said, “People are starting to figure out now that we never needed to be as addicted to power as we were. Anyway, back to my point, I managed to trade a few things I had collected along the way for some dehydrated hamburger meat, mushrooms, and a few herbs and spices. With a little heat and water, it should make a nice breakfast for us.”

  Opening a small sackcloth drawstring bag, Jessie removed what looked like a pebble. “These hamburger chunks look like rocks until they rehydrate. I tried them the night I got them. They’re better than they look,” he commented with a smile.

  Placing the chunks of dried meat into a small, stainless steel camping pot, Jessie poured in just enough water and placed it on the stove, stirring as the water began to warm.

  After the meat had cooked for what he felt was an adequate amount of time, he tossed in a handful of the dehydrated mushrooms, and a pinch of mixed herbs.

  Inhaling the savory aroma, Britney’s stomach began to growl. “I guess it’s been a while since I’ve had a hot meal,” she admitted.

  Considering her statement, Jessie was curious about how and what they had been fed at the camp, but he didn’t want to stir up any lingering emotions by asking about times when her parents were still with her.

  Pouring a helping of the concoction into a stainless mug, Jessie handed it to her, saying, “I know it’s not much, but we need to conserve what I have to get us as far as we can.”

  Nodding as she began eating the delicious meal, she consumed it with enthusiasm, as if she hadn’t eaten in days.

  Once they had both finished their breakfast, Jessie cleaned up camp and put everything back in its place.

  “Are we leaving?” she asked.

  “No. Not yet. But we need to be ready, just in case. I don’t want to leave anything of value behind, in the event we have to get moving in a hurry. It’s hard enough to get what you need these days. There’s no reason to have to replace things you already have.”

  “Can I help?” she offered.

  “Hank could probably use a good brushing down. If we have to saddle him up in a hurry, we don’t want burs or anything to be on his back between him and the saddle. That, and he could use some love. He’s an ornery, but affectionate boy.”

  Handing her a small grooming brush from the saddlebags, he watched as she went to work, doing as he had asked.

  Watching while she stroked the brush across the horse’s back, Jessie saw a peace come over her that he hadn’t seen since they had met. Her mental anguish was far from gone, but the act of being useful seemed to have a therapeutic effect on her. As a side benefit, Hank seemed to be enjoying his brush-down as well.

  ~~~~

  When the sun reached its midday position high in the sky, Jessie saw a glint of light just south of their location on the hill on the far side of highway 411.

  “What the…” he mumbled as he watched more closely, zooming in on the area in question. He then saw a series of flashes, and said, “Hey, that’s… I believe that’s Morse code. Yeah… it is. It says, dash dot, dot dash, dash, dot. N… A…T… E… It spells Nate!”

  Fumbling around in his saddlebags, Jessie retrieved a signal mirror and flashed his reply, spelling, J.B. for Jessie and Britney. He then saw a man appear from the woods, waving his right arm over his head. “It’s Nate! He made it!” Jessie exclaimed with excitement. “C’mon. Let’s get moving.”

  Quickly cinching the saddle and saddlebags onto Hank’s back, Jessie mounted up, then reached down his hand and pulled Britney up as well, urging Hank forward and down the side of the gently sloping hill toward Nate’s location.

  Hearing the sounds of Hank working his way through the woods, Nate quickly crossed the road and met them just inside the tree line, keeping them out of plain sight.

  “Nate!” Jessie exclaimed, dismounting with almost a leap, giving his newly found friend a hug. “What happened? Did they catch up with you? We heard an explosion.”

  “Yeah, they tracked us, but I always have a few Plan B’s in my pack,” Nate hinted, returning the embrace.

  Turning to Britney, Nate smiled and said, “I’m glad to see you, too.” Nate was surprised as she hugged him with a smile on her face.

  “I’m tired of losing people,” she said. “I… I didn’t…”

  “Well, we’re all here now,” he reassured, relieving her of the burden of continuing her dark thoughts.

  “You just missed breakfast,” Jessie offered. “Are you hungry?”

  “No, I’m fine. I’ve got a few more MRE’s in my pack.”

  “I was wondering how we’d find you. Didn’t you think it was a bit dangerous broadcasting your position like that?”

  Chuckling, Nate admitted, “Well, yeah. But if you were there, I knew you would be keeping an eye on the area and would only signal back if you deemed it safe. If anyone else homed in on me, I’d have just bolted or engaged them. I figured it would be better to broadcast from a position of relative cover like that than to just walk down the middle of the road yelli
ng your name.”

  “So, what’s the plan?” Jessie asked. “Do you have any new intel?”

  Watching as the smile quickly extinguished from Nate’s face, Jessie listened as Nate surmised, “Well, it’s not gonna be as easy working our way to the east as I had hoped.” Pulling out his wrinkled, well-worn map, Nate pointed and explained, “Some friendlies in the area informed me that they’re…”

  “They?” Jessie interrupted, seeking clarification.

  “The UF, UN, whatever the hell you want to call them these days, are moving a mobile detachment from the Newport area to our east, and this way via 411. It seems they’re searching homes and camps along the way. One can only assume they’re trying to ruffle feathers, hoping someone will turn on our group and rat us out. Hits like the one we made yesterday really set them into motion. Sometimes I wonder if it’s worth it. Putting other people in harm’s way once the hornets’ nest is shaken, that is. But the other side of me can’t just lie down. If we live our lives trying not to ruffle the feathers of those who want to impose their wills on us, well, we’d just be submitting. I want these bastards to pay, and I want them to never get a good night’s sleep. What they did yesterday happens all too often. If we don’t fight back, well, what kind of Americans would we be if we didn’t? No, I can’t be a sheep. And if I can’t effectively be a sheepdog, I’ll be a wolf.”

  Looking at the map, seeing that they were effectively boxed in by mountains to the south, Jessie wondered, “So… what do you propose?”

  “If we go west, well, we’ll just be getting closer to the troops they have positioned in Knoxville. If we go east, we’ll be walking right into their arms. North is obviously out of the question because they’ve installed more hunters in the area. That leaves south,” he said, tapping on the map. “We need to move into the mountains behind us and lay low for a while. The only real drawback is that the terrain is too rough to get all the way through to the east in a straight shot. Those mountains get pretty steep. If we can get through this gap here,” he suggested, tracing his finger on the map, “we can get over to Carson Springs Road and work our way south of this ridge to Carson Springs.”