Dust to Dust: Deconstruction Book One (A Post-Apocalyptic Thriller)

by Rashad Freeman

  It was a little after midday and I figured we could get deep enough into the woods to make camp without being seen. Our best bet was to stay hidden. I'd been camping a few times before and felt confident in my ability to survive off the grid for a day or two.

  Charlie and David were starting to come around. This was turning into more of an adventure for them than the reality of struggling to survive. They talked and sang little songs as we walked, which lightened the mood a bit and gave me an optimistic feeling.

  Alistair didn't share in their childish utopia. He scanned the path in front of us like a hawk, snapping and turning his head with every sound. He knew enough to be scared and for once I wished he was still consumed with the kind of ignorance that only a kid could have.

  Thin branches and dry grass crackled with every step we took as we pushed our way further and further into the undeveloped land. Birds and insects whistled in high pitches like a nature soundtrack. Other than that, it was a silent journey, a time for me to think and clear my head.

  Maybe this was the way things were supposed to be all along. Humans had spent too much time cooped up in houses and hidden behind desks. We were meant to be out in nature and even though I was afraid of how we'd get along, I felt like I belonged out here.

  Once we'd walked for a mile or so there was enough trees between us and the road. Besides that, I was certain if we went much further I wouldn't be able to find my way back out.

  Dropping my bag in a small clearing, I turned back to Melinda and said, "I think we'll stop here."

  "Good...my legs hurt," she replied.

  Greg groaned and dropped his gear as well then moved his arm around a bit, like he needed to make sure it still worked. The kids took a seat on top of their bags and Melinda gave them a bottled water and some chips. Alistair stared off into the thicket, like a hunting dog. If it were possible, he seemed more concerned about our bleak future than I did.

  "What the hell happened back there? I heard shooting," I turned to Greg and asked.

  Greg grinned, but even through that I could see the pain in his face. At a quick glance, the wound didn't look that bad, but he was sweating more than any of us and his skin looked like it had lost some color.

  "I made it back to my house, packed up a few things," he started. "Told the guys they could have everything inside. Then they wanted my bag, we got into a bit of a tussle. One of em shot me, but I'm all good."

  "Yeah, you need to take care of that. Let me clean it up and put a bandage or something over it."

  I reached into my bag and pulled out the bottle of disinfectant I'd gathered from the store. I twisted off the cap and tipped it toward his arm. He jokingly slapped at my hand.

  "Nah, that's gonna sting. Trust me I'm good, it's not even bleeding anymore."

  "Look man, I'm no doctor or anything, but if you haven't noticed, it's not like we can just head to a hospital. If that gets infected or something...and did the bullet even come out?"

  "I'm fine man, I really am."

  I gave him a skeptical look, but let it go. He was a grown man after all and who was I to be giving any kind of survival advice. My knowledge came from shit I saw on the Discovery channel.

  "We're gonna camp here and then head out in the morning," I said and started to unroll my tent.

  "It's kinda early isn't it?" Greg asked.

  "Yeah, but I don't want to be stumbling around the woods in the dark. We can start early tomorrow and get going."

  "And where exactly are we going?"

  "I've been thinking about that. With guys like we saw back in the neighborhood roaming around I don't think it's safe to be near the roads. I don't have a clue what's going on, but the safest place has to be MacDill."

  "The air force base?" Alistair asked.

  "Yep, those military guys from earlier knew something and if they packed up and left we should probably follow them."

  "How are we gonna get there?" Melinda chimed in. "It's gotta be at least thirty miles and David and Charlie can't walk that far."

  I smiled and held back for a moment. My genius plan was about to be revealed, but it felt kind of good being the mastermind behind everything.

  Melinda gave me a look and huffed. I winked at her then cleared my throat.

  "The harbor," I finally said.

  "What harbor?" Greg asked as if my plan was the dumbest thing he'd ever heard.

  "Any harbor, shit there's tons of them. We moved out here for the water and there's boats everywhere. The base is right across the bay. Wouldn't take us more than a hour or two to get there."

  "You couldn't fix the car Randall, how the hell are you gonna get a boat to run?" Melinda jabbed.

  "We take a sail boat. There's tons of them moored less than four miles from here."

  "And who's gonna sail it?"

  "What?" I asked and looked at her with squinting eyes.

  "A sail boat Randall, they have sails and things. Who's gonna operate that? It's not as easy as it sounds and if you screw it up, we all drown."

  I felt the air whistle from my chest and I slumped my shoulders. As simple as it was I hadn't thought of that and I sure as hell didn't know how to sail a boat, but how hard could it be?

  "Look Melinda, if that's our only issue then I say we've made out. They're killing people back in our neighborhood. I'll take my chances in the water."

  "I'm hungry!" David suddenly announced, which was immediately echoed by Charlie.

  "I'll get the tent set up, you figure out dinner," I said and looked at Melinda.

  "Well that's easy, we're going with lasagna or chicken and mash potatoes," she laughed and held up a package of freeze dried food.

  Winking, I turned around and grabbed the tent. Alistair started unpacking the poles and Greg grabbed his own little pop-up tent and went to work. An hour later Greg was relaxing inside of his tent and me and Alistair were still trying to figure out which part was the floor.

  "I thought you had instructions for that?" Melinda asked.

  "Yeah, well we were kinda busy rushing out of the house from the damn murder brigade so I didn't grab them."

  "Don't get mad at me, it's not my fault. And dinner is ready."

  Melinda had used our little gas burner to heat up some water and make an edible version of chicken and mash potatoes. The kids must've been starving because they ate three helpings each and licked the flimsy plates when they were done.

  After that me and Alistair went back to work on the tent. We managed to sort out the floor, but the poles were another story. Every time we set one up another fell over.

  "Need some help?" Greg asked with a grin.

  "Don't you start shit too," I replied.

  He shrugged then winced. "Suit yourself."

  Ignoring him, I went back to work. I was determined to get the tent up without outside intervention, besides I had a lot of faith in Alistair, he had a knack for things like this.

  "What do you think?" I asked him.

  "I think it took you too long to ask me for help."

  "Well, now I am so you wanna take the lead on this or what?"

  Alistair smiled. He grabbed a few poles and started arranging them around the flooring. Then he threaded them through some loops and grabbed the string. Twenty minutes later we had a fully functioning tent.

  David and Charlie crawled inside just as the sun started to set. Within minutes they were snoring loudly while the rest of us sat around outside.

  I used the flint rock in my bag and a knife to start a small fire. The temperature wasn't unbearable yet, but it was cool enough that a fire would make it comfortable.

  "Do you think someone will see it?" Alistair questioned as he stared into the flames.

  I looked up at the canopy of trees and billowing smoke. "If they were looking for it, but it's a full moon and I don't think those guys are worried about us any longer."

  "What do you think is going on?" Melinda asked.

  With a huff, I gazed into the flickering orange waves a
nd thought about my answer. Everything was speculation at this point and the only thing that I knew was that I was missing the comfort of my own house.

  "Terrorist attack," I replied.

  Unoriginal, but certainly on the high list of probabilities. The captain had brought something up about weather, but that just didn't seem to fit. Storms were as much a part of Florida as sunshine. Anarchy and total power loss on the other hand, were new.

  "You really think so?" Greg asked.

  I nodded and poked at the fire with a stick. "What else could it be?"

  "Hell...civil war, alien invasion, giant meteor, the list goes on."

  "Climate change," Alistair added.

  I gave him a sideways glance and shrugged. "How's the arm Greg?"

  "I told you I'm fine. It's a little stiff, but I'm good."

  "Well, I say we get to bed and get moving early morning. By this time tomorrow we could be in real beds."

  "Wishful thinking, but I am tired," Greg replied.

  I rolled my eyes then put out the fire and packed up. We said our goodnights then we all headed to bed.

  Along with Melinda and Alistair, I crawled into our tent with David and Charlie. It was pretty large, with dividers that broke it into three rooms. The floor wouldn't be as comfortable as a bed, but we had some comfy sleeping bags that would be put to good use.

  The cooling air was perfect. Crickets chirped a melodic lullaby and when combined with the stress from the day, it didn't take long before I was out cold.

  The next day Melinda woke me up before the sun. Groaning, I slipped out of the tent and stretched. My back ached and I quickly realized a sleeping bag and uneven, rocky soil was no substitute for a place to sleep.

  "I started breakfast," she said and pointed toward a pot steaming on the gas burner. "Oatmeal."

  I smiled. "I could get use to this."

  "I can't."

  Sighing, I gave her a hug and rubbed her shoulders. "How are you doing?"

  She looked back to make sure the kids were still sleeping. "I'm scared...real scared."

  "Saying it'll be okay sounds too cliché. But we'll be alright, whatever is going on...we'll be alright. We'll stick together and get through this."

  Melinda started to cry and I pulled her head into my chest. It broke my heart, I knew there was nothing I could say or do to comfort her. For the first time, everything she feared was legitimate and even worse, I was just as scared as she was.

  "What are we gonna do Randall? Where is everyone? What is going on?"

  "I don't know babe. We're gonna get to the base and figure it out from there."

  She wrapped her arms around me and squeezed. I could feel her heart hammering in her chest and her hands quivering as she gripped my sides.

  "I thought help would come. I thought they'd send someone," she sobbed.

  With a grimace, I wiped the tears from her face and kissed her forehead. It pained me to see her that way. All I could do was keep telling myself that things were going to work out.

  "I'm hungry," David called out as he shuffled from the tent.

  Melinda wiped her face then put on the smile that worked like glue in tough times. She grabbed a bowl from the bag and started to fill it.

  "We're having oatmeal for breakfast and I don't want any complaints. You better eat it all."

  "Ugh, mom," David protested.

  "Not another word."

  Alistair and Charlie woke up a little later and were just as pleased as David with their breakfast choices. They grunted and groaned, but hunger was an amazing thing and even the most unappetizing food didn't stand a chance.

  After eating we started to pack up things and I decided to check in on Greg. I was all for sleeping in, but if we wanted to make it to the base by nightfall we needed to get moving.

  "Yo Greg," I called from outside of his tent. "Time to get up man."

  When he didn't respond, I unzipped the cover and leaned in. He was lying on the floor with his sleeping bag thrown to the side. His shirt was hanging off and beads of sweat covered his skin, even though it was in the low seventies.

  "Greg," I called and gave him a nudge.

  He groaned and rolled over.

  "Rough night?" I asked.

  "You could say that."

  "Well if you're up to it, I'd like to get moving."

  "Yeah, give me ten."

  I nodded and headed back outside. True to his word ten minutes later he was dressed and packing up. He'd pretty much drank down a bowl of oatmeal and was looking like a new man.

  With our bags zipped up and food in our bellies, we left our little camp behind and started our journey into the unknown. It was funny how a new day could make everything seem better.

  "It's gonna be risky crossing 41," Greg said as we pushed through the twisted branches.

  "I figure we keep cover in the woods a little while longer and cross where it thins out."

  Greg sniffled then shook his head in agreement. We'd only been walking for a few minutes and he was looking like he was recovering from a hangover.

  "You look like shit," Melinda told him.

  Shrugging, he laughed. "You're just noticing?"

  "Mom can be a bit direct. She doesn't understand the meaning of subtle," Alistair said in a nonchalant tone.

  "Find me a woman that does," Greg replied.

  As we trudged through the woods my stress started to fade. Things almost felt normal, felt like this was something we should've been doing all along. They sky was clear, the weather was nice, all things considered, it was a pretty good day.

  My feet crunching over the dead leaves became a cadence. I fell into the rhythm and burned through the distance like I ran marathons for a leaving. It was easy to zone out and let my mind wander.

  At times I'd give the boys a ride on my neck. They were keen to complain about how tired they were and it was easier to carry them than deal with their whining.

  "Alright, that's enough," I groaned and let David down.

  He complained that he hadn't ridden long enough, but my shoulders ached. He was a dense, heavy kid and unlike Charlie, I felt every step I took with him on my neck.

  For the next hour we pushed through the clustered forest in silence. I led the way, breaking branches and clearing a path so David and Charlie could pass. Even with the cool weather it was grueling work and by midday my shirt was drenched in sweat.

  "Time for a water break," I declared as I stared up at the sun.

  We found a fallen tree and used it as a bench. The kids took a seat and gulped down an entire bottle of water each, then finished off a bag of chips. It made sense to go ahead and let them eat all of the perishable food as soon as they could. It wouldn't be long before all we had left was MRE's.

  David and Charlie were doing well for the amount of distance we'd covered. I was impressed even though I'd carried them about fifty percent of the time. I already knew Alistair wouldn't have any issues. Greg on the other hand, was breathing erratically and hadn't stopped sweating since he'd woke up.

  "You gonna be alright?" I asked Greg and offered him a bottle of water.

  He grabbed it and poured half of it over his head. After swigging the rest he looked up at me and shrugged. "I'm good man. Just got a bit of a fever...nothing to worry about."

  "You keep saying don't worry, but you keep getting worse. It's got me worried Greg. We need to do something about your arm."

  Greg stood up, I'm sure to make some over the top gesture about his great health, but he never got the chance. The sound of a woman screaming ripped through the air and I spun around.

  "It's coming from the road," Greg said.

  I turned to Melinda. "Stay here."

  CHAPTER 13

  WHAT THE WORLD HAS BECOME

  I slipped through the trees with Greg right behind me. Moving as fast as I could, without making a raucous, I clawed my way toward the shouting. The screams grew louder and louder the closer we came and whatever was happening, I could tell a great de
al of pain was involved.

  I stopped short of the road, where I was still covered by the thick foliage. Silently pushing the branches out of the way, I looked out to the street. There was an older, brown pick-up truck pulled off to the side, still running. A half-naked woman was scampering away while three men laughed and kicked at her.

  "No, please no!" the woman shouted.

  She was wearing a torn, white t-shirt and underwear. Her face was bloodied and bruised and her knees were scratched up. From what I could tell she was probably in her early thirties and had kept herself in pretty good shape...up until now.

  The men were an assortment of shady looking characters. They were all heavy set and looked in dire need of baths. One was dark-skinned with thick, curly hair and meaty hands like a construction worker. The other two looked like twin brothers. Both were beet red from the sun with brown, buzzed hair and thick, graying beards.

  "What the hell?" Greg mumbled.

  One of the brothers bent down and grabbed the woman's leg. He pulled her back toward the truck as she kicked and screamed hysterically.

  "Not again, no! Please, please just let me go!" she yelled.

  "Shut up bitch!" the man spat back.

  The darker man lunged forward and smacked her across the face then grabbed her other leg. "It's my turn now Henry!" he shouted and pushed the other man away.

  Flashes of Mike came to mind. The brewing guilt in my stomach started to boil and I lowered my head. I couldn't believe this was happening again.

  "We have to do something," I mumbled. Although I wasn't sure what we could possibly do.

  I motioned to stand up and Greg grabbed my arm.

  "You're going to get us killed," he grunted.

  "She's gonna get killed," I retorted.

  "If you go over there and the three of them kick our ass, what do you think is gonna happen next? Huh? Do you think they won't find your little family waiting back there? Do you think Alistair will stand a chance when he tries to protect his mom? And what do you think they'll do with the little ones? Best case, they're left in the middle of the woods alone."