It seemed as if they were walking. The tracks were close together. They couldn’t be far. As I continued on for a couple miles, the track length increased, and the ground churned up more deeply. They had started to run. I assumed that they’d heard the snow machine. They’d headed for a wooded area. As I swept my headlights, I still didn’t see the herd, but there was an open valley to the right. Maybe I could get past them before they were through the woods.
I accelerated away from the trail and tried to flank the herd. The valley paralleled the trees for some distance. I raced ahead and then turned down a trail into the woods. I slowed and shut off the snow machine. I could hear them.
Were they coming this way? I jogged ahead, staying close to the trees where there was less snow. My breath came in ragged gasps. I had to stop. I was getting lightheaded. I tried to listen, but asthma attacks always made my eardrums pound. I couldn’t hear much, but I started to feel the vibrations in the tree I was hiding behind as the herd approached. They were coming right at me. The woods weren’t thick, but there weren’t long lines of sight. I leaned my rifle against the tree and took out my pistol.
I tried to calm my breathing as I waited. The first doe shot past me before I knew it. I stepped out from behind the tree, surprising a buck. I snapped off two rounds, hitting him only once. He reared, then turned sharply to run away from me. I put a round right behind his shoulder, and he dropped with his first jump. I aimed again as another caribou started to veer away from me. One shot took a female in the back leg and she went down, struggling to drag herself with her front legs churning. Another frightened doe almost ran into me. She got one round in the chest between her front legs. She slammed against me as she tried to get past, going down on her side. She huffed once and stayed down. I dropped behind a tree, only able to concentrate on my breathing.
After a few minutes, my head cleared enough to go after the injured caribou. I followed her blood trail about fifty yards where she continued to struggle wildly. I put a round into her to end her misery. I kneeled next to her and offered a prayer for her sacrifice. She would help us make it that much farther. She gave us a better chance to live.
I dragged her back along her blood trail to where the other two caribou were. Her legs kept getting caught up in the snow. It took all I had to get her back. I was exhausted and having a hard time breathing. My hands were shaking, which always happened after an extended bout without being able to take a full breath. I expected I was turning blue.
It was dark in the trees. The blood trail stood out as a path, but nothing else was obvious. I couldn’t find my tracks leading to where I had ambushed the herd. How far did I run, fifty yards maybe? This was me. It wouldn’t have been too far. Where was my rifle? I couldn’t think clearly.
I sat down for just a second. Leaning against the tree, I fell sound asleep.
WHERE IS HE?
Madison knew that I had left. She knew why and was not happy. But she also knew there was nothing to be done about it. “From each according to his ability, to each according to his need.” Although she wasn’t a Marx fan, she was an academic, and in order to understand, one must study all sides of an issue. In this case, Marx applied perfectly. It needed to be me. If the snow machine broke, I had the best chance to fix it. I could shoot, and we needed the food.
She wished me well and curled up with the twins and their dogs. Phyllis and Husky worked their way into the pile. Phyllis, being a short hair, wore her coat, but she still appreciated the warmth from the other dogs, which they willingly shared with their Alpha. It was good to be the queen.
Chris cuddled with Colleen and prayed hard that I was successful. He didn’t want to see her have to decide which horse would die to feed the dogs.
Darren wished that I had asked him to come along, but knew why I hadn’t. I wanted someone there who could protect the Community. Chris wasn’t even armed. Darren had my AK-47. I’d left it in the house when we moved to the resort full time. We had no need of it. The AK wasn’t a good hunting rifle, but it was available. Darren carried a number of loaded magazines. There wasn’t any other ammunition for it.
Darren had the unspoken role of protecting the group. He or Becca swore to stay on watch at all times. Becca was every bit as committed as Darren. Their baby, Bill...when Bill woke up, everyone woke up. We loved them all.
Amber remained stalwart. She helped us all see the positive side of things. Despite our trials, she continued to teach Diane things like patty-cake. Amber didn’t complain. She kept her family close, making sure that they slept well. Little Diane was bundled up in an odd assortment of clothes, but it wasn’t like we had much choice. The twins were in the same boat. They had clothes that were pinned and hand sewn.
Jo was probably the most put out of all. As the master chef, the Community revolved around the meals she provided. They acquired the things she needed to cook the things that people liked. She made magic happen with meals when we ran out of variety. We didn’t have any of that anymore. She was in charge of the food distribution, but we were on reduced rations. The dogs were fed well enough. The horses got only what they could scavenge.
Emma was doing the best she could. Her entire experience with motherhood was a life on the run. She kept her baby warm, but the diaper rash was inevitable. At least we’d found some talcum powder in the house here. It looked like the residents left in a hurry, so almost everything was left behind, like the dog food. There was very little canned food. It looked like that was the one thing they did take, or maybe they never had much of it in the first place.
Little Tony was not gaining weight as he should. He seemed okay, but our life on the road was not the best for a newborn.
Jo and Emma talked about staying behind, if we could find a place that would support them until the baby grew stronger. We didn’t want to split up, but losing someone because we didn’t split up didn’t pass the logic test. Chris, Amber, and Colleen talked to them to see what needed to be done. If we found a cabin with a good supply of wood, water, and maybe a few cans of food, and if we were able to provide them some moose meat, and if, and if....
We had hope that this trial could be managed. That we could get to Canada, a free Canada. We needed help.
When everyone woke up, Madison looked for me. Becca had been on watch and knew that I hadn’t returned. She shook her head when Madison made eye contact. Becca looked quickly away.
“We have to go look for him!” Madison blurted out to no one in particular. Aeryn gave her mother a big hug.
“Don’t worry, Mom. It’s Dad. He’ll be fine.” Charles seemed unconcerned. The undying faith of children in the superhuman abilities of their parents is a universal constant. The twins had more faith than most as we had seen them through all kinds of challenges. We sold them on a positive attitude. They seemed confused that their mother was concerned. So they went about their business to get ready to mush on.
Chris let Madison know that the snow machine track was clear as it continued down the middle of the road in the direction we were going. It would make sense to follow.
The Community shared a brief and meager breakfast before getting on the road. Darren took his team in the lead and set a pace faster than any of the previous days. Chris and Colleen with the horses soon fell far behind. The twins lost pace as well, starting to fall behind, too. Abigail had to slow her sled so she didn’t run over the twins.
“I’ll get in front of the twins and we’ll keep them between us and you,” Abigail shouted to Becca and Madison. She pulled the sled over and let Becca catch up, then told her what she intended. Becca gave the thumbs up without taking her hands off the sled.
Abigail gave a hearty, “HA!” and they leapt forward. As she got even with the twins, she told them what she was doing. They gave her a quick nod. They were all business while mushing. They loved it. They were one with the dogs as they maintained their momentum.
Abigail smoothly moved in front and slowed her pace. They chewed through ten miles, then
fifteen. It was past the time where they should have taken a break, but Darren was nowhere to be seen up ahead. They needed to keep pressing forward just in case someone up there needed help.
They stopped when they rounded the corner where John had gone through the guardrail. They cleaned out the sleigh that I’d parked in the road and pushed it to the side. Without a second look at what had been John, they mushed the dogs forward.
When the caravan hit twenty miles, the dogs were starting to slow down. They had about reached their limit and needed food and water. It was getting light, and the group needed to stop.
That’s when they saw the tracks up ahead. Darren had stomped out a big arrow turning left at the churned up snow where the herd had passed the night before. The snow machine track was very clear on top of the hoofprints. They knew immediately that I had gone after the caribou. In the daylight, they could see the track disappear into the woods some distance away. They finally caught sight of Darren. He was fading out to the right of the tree line.
The group members looked at one another. It would be hard for the dogs to run through all the hoofprints. Abigail suggested everyone take a break here, and she would follow the tracks with her sled. She had the best dog team, so she could follow the quickest with the least wear on her team. She was also better suited to get into the open area away from the hoofprints.
They helped her unpack to make her load as light as possible and then watched as she mushed the team alongside the herd tracks.
Lunch!
I slept for a long time. I woke up lying in the snow, drool frozen into my newly growing beard. I needed to clean the caribou before the meat was lost. In the dark, I gutted the animals, one after another. Then went back to cleaning them up more. I was famished.
As the world’s worst prepper, I had never mastered the art of starting a fire without a match. I had one of those magnesium rod and striker things, but I was rarely successful in making fire. And that was the case here. I wanted to cook some of the caribou to help keep up my strength. In the end, I ate some of the backstrap raw. It wasn’t as bad as I thought it would be, but then again, I hadn’t eaten for more than two days. Hunger is the best condiment, or so they say.
I was removing the head from the third caribou to help make transport easier when I heard Darren yelling. I cupped my hands and shouted back. I could hear him call his team to a halt, and then he ran up to me. He had been worried. It was never my intent to make anyone worry. I only wanted to find food.
He broke into a huge grin when he saw the three caribou. He gave a hearty whoop of joy. Now it was quite clear where Bill had gotten his lung strength.
And then he asked what help I needed. We went through a short list. I was still tired and hungry.
“Now that I’ve done all the hard work, maybe you can help me get these loaded?” I asked Darren with a wink. “By the way, you wouldn’t have seen a snow machine around here anywhere, would you?”
It was embarrassing that Darren found it before I did.
Abigail was happy to take two of the caribou on her stripped-down sled, while I put the third on mine. The dogs looked on hungrily, so we cut off some healthy mini-steaks for each of them. They wolfed down the meat. We brought out their bowls and used the heat from the snow machine engine to melt snow for them to drink. They needed water and that’s all we could manage.
Once we were going back toward the road, I went ahead to meet up with everyone else and, most importantly, to let Madison know that I was okay.
I could see them cheering as I approached. I stood on the snow machine, pumping my fist in the air and pointing back to the sleigh with the caribou. I took it easy as I approached, not wanting to drive the dogs into a frenzy.
Madison wouldn’t hug me. I guess that I was a little messy from cleaning the caribou in the dark. In lieu of a hug, she gave me a big smile and a punch in the chest.
From the twins? “Hi, Dad.” They weren’t even looking at me. “Can we get some meat for our dogs?” they asked in unison. They had never been worried.
With the arrival of the first caribou, Jo took it upon herself to make things happen. She whipped out a knife from somewhere and prepared to butcher the caribou. She looked around.
“Can we find a house or somewhere we can do this properly?”
I looked down the road. There might be something up ahead. I started the snow machine and raced ahead. A mile away I found a cabin that looked like it would work. I left the snow machine at the end of the driveway. The cabin was small, but there was a big lean-to for firewood. The lean-to was mostly empty. It would have to do. I looked inside. There was a central table, a bed off to one side, a counter, and a wood-burning stove. I went back outside to get some firewood. They had matches and proper kindling, so I was able to start a fire in the wood burner.
I heard an odd noise and went back outside. A black bear had found the caribou and was tearing into it. My rifle was still in its case on the side of the sled, so I pulled out my pistol and started shooting.
This made the bear mad. Thank God he wasn’t that big, maybe only two hundred and fifty pounds. He jumped down and made to charge at me. This pause allowed me to shoot him three more times. He went down in a heap. Keeping my eye on him, I jogged out to my rifle. I put one round from the 45-70 through his skull.
I caught him before he ate too much. And this gave us another hundred and fifty pounds of meat. I’d heard that black bear tasted pretty good. I guess we’d find out.
As Darren and Abigail mushed their teams back toward the road, they saw everyone waving as they traveled south. Even cleaned like they were, the two caribou made for a heavy load. Abigail manhandled the sled up the incline and turned south, following the others. Darren dropped his snow hook and stomped out his previous arrow. He made a new one pointing down the road. Chris and Colleen had not yet made it, so they needed the sign to show them where everyone had gone. There were still hours of daylight remaining, but clouds were beginning to settle in.
As everyone mushed their teams to the cabin, the smell of the bear sent the dogs into an uproar. Phyllis jumped off the sled and stood near the dead bear, barking and showing plenty of teeth. Husky joined her, but she just didn’t have it in her to be that angry. She gave up after a short time and settled on sniffing around the area. Phyllis had to be physically dragged away from the carcass, only to escape and go muzzle deep into the bear’s neck.
THE SMOKE HOUSE
The snow started to fall, and Chris and Colleen were still nowhere to be seen. Darren told me that I was to stay, and he would take the snow machine out to look for them. We heard it start and then slowly move out. With the snow, he didn’t want to run headlong into three horses.
Jo managed the processing of the caribou and the bear. In the end, we had hundreds of pounds of meat. She wanted to smoke some of it so we could eat it as we traveled without having to make a fire. All the rest could be left to freeze. The dogs were perfectly happy eating it that way. After the last few days, we figured they’d be happy with anything to eat, even if it was raw and frozen.
Although meat was the only thing on the menu, we welcomed it. As soon as the first bits were a little crisped, we passed them around. We ate a little at a time, for a long time. It seemed we couldn’t get enough. Finally we had eaten our fill. Jo set up a little containment using some sheeting from under the bed. We wired it all together, roughed in a couple shelves and Jo turned the wood burner into a smoker. The whole cabin filled with smoke as much of it escaped our crude construct. I waved Madison outside where we intended to set up our tent. Unfortunately, it was on the sleigh behind the sled that Darren was driving. We went back inside, staying close to the partially opened door. The smoke was really bothering me.
I had to go back outside where I leaned up against the cabin and wrapped myself in blankets. The next thing I knew, the snow machine was back. Three horses slowly made their way in. One was limping badly. I forced myself up to see what was wrong.
Co
lleen had moved onto the pack horse as Winnifred, her riding horse, had gotten hurt. There was a nasty scrape on the mare’s foreleg. We got the horse into the lean to, and dug out the first-aid kit, which was fairly substantial thanks to our Walgreen’s run and consolidation of everything from the resort. It had been at the stables during the bombing, so it was fully intact, albeit a little dusty, as we’d used it only a few times in the past three years.
Colleen used the antibiotic ointment on the horse’s leg scrape, placing a gauze pad over top and taping it on with athletic tape.
While Colleen was working on her horse, Darren had gone inside to bring out a heaping plate of fresh-cooked caribou. Chris and Colleen ate heartily. Too bad we didn’t have anything for the horses. We’d have to dig around the gullies for any tufts of grass. No mowing had been done in years, so there had to be heavy growth somewhere beneath the snow.
“You think we can take an extra day to rest?”
Chris nodded. I shook my head. “We’re about twenty miles from Delta Junction, maybe even less since we’re only going to the airport. We can almost walk it. Can Winnifred make it? Then we can maybe find something a little more substantial for the horses to eat. And us, too. Then we can rest. We have plenty of food now, thanks to a generous herd of caribou and one overzealous black bear.”
I thought about it for a little bit more. “I can shuttle someone into town so we can travel a little bit lighter, and maybe that person can start looking for things that we need. Are you up for it?” I didn’t think Chris would be. He wanted to stay with Colleen. Not waiting for Chris to answer, I pressed on. “I’ll ask Darren.”
The smoke had gotten so thick in the cabin, I could hardly see. It burned my windpipe. I went back outside with a racking cough. Madison came outside when she heard me. The twins followed her. They held their scarves over their faces. I looked at Charles. “Can you get Darren for me, please?”
Run (End Times Alaska Book 2) Page 13
