Patrick wasn’t sure how to wrap up his speech and see if it swayed the boy’s mind about leaving, but he still had Stuart’s full attention as he finished. “I have done some terrible things Stuart. I still screw up in many different ways, but I know that I’m loved. When you realize that… When you realize that Jesus loves you no matter what; your whole world will change. It won’t get any easier, but it will change. I know that being gay is wrong, but you need to know that you are loved too.”
They all sat there awkwardly for a minute not sure how each of them should react. Mackenzie was first as she stood up and hugged her dad. Patrick stood up with her, and she kind of nestled in on his side with her head near his armpit like she used to when she was a little girl.
Patrick could see in Stuart’s eyes that he believed his story. Patrick waved with his forearm for Stuart to join them. Stuart immediately stood up, but then hesitated. Patrick waved again to him and he walked over to him. Patrick put his free arm around the boy and they all stood there hugging and crying in the red saloon for some time.
Chapter 15
They had covered a lot of ground in the last couple days since they stopped in the western town for supplies. They had stayed over in the town that night while Stuart decided on whether he would continue their trek with them or go back to the safety of the Dungeon. Stuart decided to go on with them, and they all seemed to think that it was going better. Stuart was learning the little things about roughing it that was letting him keep up better, and Patrick was biting his tongue more when he thought Stuart was slowing them down. Mackenzie kept the pace going by riding way out in front, mostly not even seen now that the flatness of South Dakota was being broken up by large rolling hills. The other two would usually only catch up with her for water breaks, and once when she was having a hard time cutting through the barb wire fence at the side of the road to take a short cut.
They had stopped the night before just short of their goal for the day of reaching the Missouri River and setup camp some little ways from the interstate on the crest of a hill amongst some trees. They finished setting up the tents in the middle of a beautiful orange and pink sunset. They were all exhausted from the long day of biking and were asleep before the sun was all the way down.
Patrick was amazed that morning when he awoke shortly after sunrise and came out of his tent. Stuart’s tent was no longer where it was the night before; it was nowhere to be seen. Patrick’s first thought that the kid had decided to back to the Dungeon after all and he was about to wake Mackenzie up when he seen the boy’s bike still parked with the other two down by the interstate where they had left them last evening. After looking around, he saw Stuart sitting by some trees just east of camp on the very crest of the hill. Patrick used his camp stove to make some coffee and took two of their camp mugs over to where Stuart was watching the sun come up.
“I thought that you had left. It isn’t like you to get up before me in the morning,” Patrick said as he walked up to where Stuart was sitting with his back to a small cottonwood and handed him one of the mugs.
“Couldn’t really sleep last night,” Stuart said as Patrick leaned up against the same tree.
“Anything you want to talk about?” Patrick offered.
Instead of answering his question, Stuart pointed east and south a little and said “You can see the river from here.”
They stayed that way for a little while until the sun was well above the horizon, then headed back and broke camp after waking Mackenzie up. She wasn’t as chipper this morning and lagged behind the other two at times on the road.
There were a lot more vehicles on and off the road than there had been going through Wyoming, and they slowed their progress some. The wrecked vehicles just appeared as if all the drivers had fallen asleep at the same time. Some pickups were on their tops after going through the guard rail, some SUV’s were in the right of way as if they had tried to go hill climbing, and occasionally a semi-truck with a full-size trailer would be overturned across the whole interstate. They all learned to try and not consider the vehicles or at the wreckage near them as almost all the scenes were gruesome ones. Old ladies hanging out of sedan windows, little children in the back seats of SUV’s, and all other carnage that one doesn’t want to imagine. With the increase of vehicles, the number of collisions had also increased that made it more and more difficult to not look at the wreckage. So even though they had witnessed a glorious sunrise and the crisp air of the early morning was enough to get one excited about what the day had to offer, all three of them remained somber and quiet as they continued their quest eastward.
Patrick was in the lead when he topped over a large hill and first seen the river. His heart sank immediately and he put his brakes and came to a more sudden stop than he anticipated. Stuart and Mackenzie were only a few seconds behind him and stopped next to him just past the top of the hill.
“What’s wrong?” Mackenzie asked. She could tell by the way that her dad had stopped that something was wrong, but she didn’t recognize it.
“They’re gone,” Stuart answered as he looked down the road the same as Patrick.
“What’s gone?” Mackenzie asked this time becoming perturbed that neither of them were clear on what the problem was.
“The bridge,” Patrick said as he pointed down to the river. Mackenzie realized what the problem was as she saw that the interstate seemed to just dive beneath the massive river for what seemed like a mile before it arose on the opposite side on a steep hill.
“It’s not just that one,” Stuart replied after a few seconds. “There was a railroad bridge over there to the right and another bridge for cars between the towns over there,” he said pointing to the left of the interstate.
“I don’t think that they’re gone,” Patrick said after looking it over more. “I think that the water level is just so high that they’re underwater.”
Stuart put his hand up to his forehead to shield his eyes from the early morning sun and peered down at the scene that was becoming harder for him to understand. He could see somewhat from where he was standing that the town across the river was mostly underwater. “Yeah, I think that you’re right,” Stuart said.
“How could that happen Dad? We haven’t had a lot of rain or anything,” Mackenzie asked.
“I’m not sure,” Patrick replied. “I would guess that they have a dam or hydro plant or something that controls the water level somewhere downstream. It probably is on the fritz with all of the other electronics, or nobody is there to regulate the water level.”
“Or both,” Stuart added.
After a few seconds, Mackenzie asked the question out load that they were all wondering. “How do we get across now?”
“I’m not sure about that either Mak,” Patrick said.
They coasted down the hill to the water’s edge for a better look. It didn’t take long because the hill was quite steep and there were only a few cars on the pavement. Looking across the river from the water’s edge made it look even more daunting. It was more than a mile across, maybe even a couple. Mackenzie got off her bike, took her shoes off, and walked to the water’s edge as the other two stared across the seemingly still water.
Mackenzie waded out into the river until she was about knee deep. The water was cool, but not cold. The water was also very murky and dirty looking. She turned back to the other two and said “I bet that we can make it swimming across without our gear.”
The thought of having to gear back up didn’t sit well with Patrick. Their bikes and gear were allowing them to make much better time than they otherwise would be.
“Do you know this area very well?” Patrick asked Stuart.
“Not really,” Stuart replied. “I’ve been through here a few dozen times probably, but I’ve only stopped here a couple of times. There is a small town on this side of the river, with a bigger town on the other side.”
They continued to look out across the water and internally debate about how they were going to get
across it. Stuart pointed out to their right and said “Look! You can just barely make out the top of the railroad bridge.”
Just as Stuart said the word “railroad”, Mackenzie let out a high-pitched scream and ran high stepping it back to the shore. Patrick jumped off his bike and ran to meet her at the edge of the water. “What’s wrong? What’s wrong?” he was yelling at her.
When Mackenzie reached him after those few steps she breathed out “Something touched my leg!” She was staring back at the water.
“Did you see it?” Stuart asked now off his bike as well.
“No.” Mackenzie said not letting her grip relax from her dad. “It was cold and fleshy.”
Stuart took his shoes off as well and rolled his pants legs up. He walked over to an older four door car that was partially submerged in the river just off the shoulder of the road, and pulled off a large chunk of trim from the side of the car that had started to come off already. He waded out into the water about to the same spot where Mackenzie had been and poked around in the murky water with the trim that was a few feet long.
After a moment or two, Stuart jumped back a few feet like he had been bitten and Mackenzie clutched her dad even more tightly. Instead of running, Stuart used the trim in his hand to stir the water beside him until he could see what had bumped against his leg. After finding it and recognizing what it was, he used the trim to push it near the edge of the river. It took a little while to push the mass those eight to ten feet and he gave up once it bottomed out on the pavement, but Patrick and Mackenzie could see that it was a large lifeless catfish from where they stood. Mackenzie relaxed her grip on her dad and walked over to peer at the fish.
“Dinner anyone?” Stuart asked. The fish was very large, but didn’t look appetizing. Some of the skin on its side and belly was sliding off exposing its rotting flesh. Mackenzie took the trim from Stuart and began poking and examining the fish in the ankle-deep water as Stuart came out of the water and walked over to where Patrick was standing.
Stuart said to Patrick “I say that we ride into town and see if we can find a boat to get us across.”
“Sounds like as good of a plan as any,” Patrick replied.
They had to back track some on the interstate to get to terrain where they could easily cut across on their bikes to enter the little town on the west side of the flooded river. It was a very small town that pretty much only had a large truck stop on the north side of the interstate, and trailers and other small houses on the south side of the interstate. There may have been larger homes or other businesses closer to the river, but they were underwater now and inaccessible.
By noon they had pretty much canvassed the truck stop and most of the town looking for a boat to take them across the river. The only thing that they even debated using was a small speed boat that was hooked to an out of state pickup at the truck stop. As they rode back to the truck stop to decide what their next steps were and restock supplies, they argued about whether the one boat they found would work or not.
“How can there not be a single boat in all of this town by a major river?” Mackenzie asked to no one in particular.
“I bet that they have a local marina or dock somewhere where people probably keep their boats, but it’s probably under water now,” Patrick speculated as they pulled up to the front of the truck stop and got off their bikes.
They walked over to the one boat that they found. Stuart climbed aboard the trailered boat and began going through the contents of the cubbies and cabinets. He found a couple of oars, some water skis and paraphernalia, and a large knee board. While they could all fit on the boat with their bikes and supplies, they had no easy way to get it down to the water’s edge.
Patrick wandered into the truck stop and loaded up with supplies and things to eat for lunch while the other two stayed outside in the parking lot looking at the boat. The truck stop was a large one with a restaurant attached to it, and by the number of bodies in the store and booths it had been a popular place as well. The two kids started in just as Patrick was headed out and he stopped them. He handed them some things that he found for lunch and told them that they didn’t need to see what all was going on inside there.
They all climbed into the boat and ate their lunches without saying much. Mackenzie was sitting in the bow facing the back of boat with her arms splayed out across the front of the boat and her head tipped back enjoying the sun. Stuart was sitting in the captain’s seat staring at the odds and ends that he had strewn all around the boat as he munched his potato chips and Patrick was staring off in the distance as he absently ate a king-sized bar of chocolate.
Without looking up, Mackenzie said “The trestle.”
The other two didn’t look up, but just nodded. “I’ll go as soon as lunch is over,” Patrick said.
“Nah,” Stuart said. “I’ll go. I’m a really strong swimmer.”
Patrick thought about arguing with the kid, but decided that it may be best for the group and just agreed by nodding his head and said “Okay.”
It was mid-afternoon before the group was back down to the water’s edge with their extra supplies. Stuart had made a type of water travois by lashing the long oars and a life jacket to the knee board that he planned to tow behind him with the ski rope. Patrick had gone through and emptied his day pack from anything that would get ruined if wet, but left things like a tarp, multi-tool, water proof matches, some glow sticks, and other odds and ends in it. He helped Stuart lash it to the knee board along with the boy’s extra jeans and an extra pair of shoes using a length of paracord that had been in the pack.
All three of them walked the half a mile or so to where the edge of the bank was closest to the railroad trestle bridge. Stuart dragged the knee board along behind him in the water to see how well it would work. It kept getting caught on the bank every twenty or thirty yards, but they all thought that it would do better out in the open water.
Stuart took his pants and shoes off while listening to all the instructions by Patrick. Some of the things Patrick was telling him were pertinent to the task at hand, such as he was to light one of the flares in the pack when he reached the other side. Otherwise, Patrick and Mackenzie were swimming across at first light to find him. He also described the most appropriate boat that would work for them, but to get anything and get back to the other side. The other things that Patrick told him were pretty much just fatherly advice about things to watch out for or not to do that Stuart thought he already had a handle on.
They went over the plan one more time. Stuart was to swim out to the railroad bridge where part of the trestle was sticking a foot or two out of the water. There he could walk along the trestle to the other side towing the knee board. Once on the other, side he would light the flare to let them know that he had made it and find a place to sleep for the night. The next morning, he would scour the larger town on the other side of the river for a more appropriate boat for them, their gear, and ideally their bikes. He could then row back across the river and pick the other two up.
“Should we go over it one more time?” Patrick asked Stuart.
Stuart started rolling his eyes, but was cut short when Mackenzie teasingly shoved her dad and then hugged Stuart. “Be safe,” she said before letting him go. “Let him go Dad,” she said as she turned back to the bank and Stuart waded out into the river.
The water got deep fast and Stuart was swimming before he made it thirty yards into the water. The weight of the knee board seemed to slow him quite a bit when the slack ran out of the ski line. He felt himself start to get winded and tired with the trestle still quite some ways off, so he flipped over to his back and just kicked his feet. He could see that Mackenzie and Patrick were still on the edge of the bank watching him intently. Mackenzie waved once and he waved back before flipping back over on his stomach and started swimming again. He was exhausted by the time he reached the trestle a few minutes later, so he clung to it and rested for several moments before trying to get up on the steel. He bang
ed his toes hard on something on the bridge under the water that made him wince. He tried to lift his foot out of the water to look at it while he held onto the bridge with one hand, but he couldn’t get his foot all the way out of the murky water to give it a look.
The trestle top was made with eight-inch iron or steel I-beams. The start of the trestle where he was at was only a couple of feet out of the water, but it was still difficult for him to pull himself up onto it. Once on top of the steel, he inspected his foot and found that the fourth toe on his right foot was mangled good and that it was bleeding. He managed to stand on the trestle and found that where the water hadn’t cooled it off, the top I-beam was extremely warm. He didn’t think that it would injure him, but it would be uncomfortable walking the mile along the top of the steel in bare feet. He sat back down on the steel and reeled the knee board over to him and up on the bridge. He unlashed an oar and his shoes before retying everything else back down and lowering it back down to the water. The rope slipped right at the end and he ended up dunking it enough that he was sure Patrick’s day pack was drenched. He put his left shoe on, then gingerly forced his right foot with the injured toe into its shoe. He tied the ski rope around his waist and readied himself to try and stand back up on the I-beam. Looking back at the shore, he seen that Mackenzie and Patrick were no longer where he had left them. He couldn’t see them from his vantage point, but he was sure that they probably had headed back to the bikes to get their equipment to make camp for the night.
He used the oar to help him stand up and immediately felt the pain from his injured toe. He closed his eyes for a moment and moved the oar back and forth in his hands to try and find its balance point. He opened his eyes and held the oar out horizontally before him to help him balance. He began the longest balance beam walk of his life just as the sun was starting to dip beyond the horizon.
Stuart first began humming, then whistling, then absently singing a familiar tune as he walked along the beam. His Axel Rose impression really hadn’t improved much since he had last been alone.
The Hike (Book 1): Survivors Page 18
