We decided to stay another night in that campsite. The fresh air and nature around us were such a refreshing change after spending most of the winter in the ruins of downtown Kansas City. We were able to trap some more small animals to eat and I found some cattail shoots surrounding a nearby pond. We also gathered a large pot full of young dandelion leaves. After a day of foraging and eating and a good night’s sleep, we were refreshed and ready to continue our journey the next morning.
We started out at dawn the next day, deciding to reorganize our packs and leave the duffel bag and shopping cart behind. The bag was full of all kinds of electronic devices, tools, and odds and ends which the guys hated to leave behind. They picked out the best and most useful pieces and stuffed them into the already full backpacks. We each carried one pack and took turns carrying the extra two.
The day was beautiful, sunny and warm, and the walking along the interstate was pleasant. We walked non-stop until late afternoon, passing a few houses and farms just off the highway. When our stomachs started growling and our strength began waning, we decided to stop at one of the houses and ask for food. We chose a big newer home, the kind that company executives used to buy to get away from the corporate grind, thinking that they may have more to share than others. When we approached the house, we heard some people talking around back, so we made our way around the house. A man, woman, and two children were working the dirt in a large rectangle garden, probably getting it ready to plant. They looked up, startled, when we approached. The man confronted us defensively, while his wife and kids hugged each other fearfully behind him.
— We don’t have anything. Please don’t hurt us.
After our initial shock at the family’s reaction to us, Doug tried to reassure the man.
— Sorry to bother you, sir. We don’t mean any harm. We’re just passing through and wondered if you could help us out. It’s okay if you can’t.
— We just don’t have enough to feed us, that’s all. We’d like to help you out if we could, but we hadn’t recovered from the first PF Day and then the second…
He shook his head sadly, but still eyed us warily. Doug quickly assured him,
— Like I said, it’s okay. We’ll just keep going then.
We didn’t talk for a while. The family’s fear unsettled us a little; we hadn’t expected that. Maybe they had been the victims of some of the gangs of released prisoners. Or maybe just desperate people searching for anything to cling on to life. In any case, we didn’t consider that people living outside the city might have trouble of that sort as well and it made us a little leery about exposing ourselves to the threat of gangs too. We decided to make camp early as far off the highway and into a thick woods as we could.
The next day we made it to St. Joseph, a medium-sized city with lots of nice neighborhoods and homes right off the highway. We tried to beg for food at a few of these homes, but were met with fear, suspicion, and sometimes, downright hostility. One homeowner even met us at the door with a rifle, although it was doubtful he had any bullets to shoot us with. Several people were nice and said they wished they could help us, but everyone was bad off and didn’t have anything to spare. When we saw the skinny, sickly-looking children and the sunken eyes and gaunt cheeks of the adults, we completely understood their reluctance to help strangers. After a while, we just quit trying and continued our journey north, camping in the woods between towns and foraging whatever food we could.
The journey stretched out longer than expected since we had to quit walking early every day in order to set our traps, find food and water, and set our perimeter warning devices. I was more grateful than ever that I was with some guys that were not only kind and generous, but were also geniuses when it came to constructing gadgets to keep us safe.
Chapter 28
Trouble
We camped by a pond in a thickly forested area north of the town of Savannah on the sixth day of our journey. Early in the morning, two does and a fawn came to the other side of the pond to drink while we watched in awed silence. After they left, we excitedly talked about how great it would be if we could catch a deer and started thinking about how we could manage that. We knew we’d have to have to have something bigger than the traps and snares we used for small game, so we threw around some ideas using the stun guns and/or knives, but none sounded sufficient to bring down something that large. Still, we couldn’t let the thought of a juicy slab of venison go, and we continued to talk about it as we resumed our trek.
Late in the afternoon we passed a farm next to the highway. We could see a man, woman, and two teenagers working out in the field with what appeared to be some old-fashioned farm equipment and horses, presumably planting or getting the field ready to plant. Several minutes later, we passed the farmhouse and thinking that nobody was probably home since they were in the field, we decided to “borrow” some items. We all felt kind of bad about it, but this was survival after all. We were careful not to disturb anything, taking just some hard biscuits, a few potatoes, and some apples. As we were leaving, something shiny must have caught Doug’s eye, because he went back in and came out carrying a pistol and a partially full box of bullets. Dakota about had a cow when he saw it.
— What the hell are you doing with that? You can’t just take that!
— We’ll just borrow it for a while. Maybe we can shoot a deer tonight, then return the gun tomorrow.
— I don’t know. You’re crazy, man. Taking some food is one thing, but a gun…
— It’s alright. I said we’ll return it. They probably won’t even notice it’s gone.
We got to thinking about how nice it would be to eat some real meat and to have a full stomach for the first time in a long time, so we finally all agreed to go along with Doug’s plan. I think hunger and exhaustion were getting the better of us by then and none of us could think straight.
That night as we camped, we kept hearing animal noises. We could identify the mooing of cows and neighing of horses, and even the occasional crow of a rooster. There were other noises, which we thought might be sheep or goats, but we weren’t sure. Since we hadn’t seen any deer, we decided to investigate the farm animals and maybe take a few chickens, a lamb, or a goat instead of worrying about trying to catch a deer.
We walked toward the animal sounds and found that they were coming from a nice farm just off the highway. As we hid in the trees, we could see, by the light of an almost full moon, pens of goats, chickens, cows, and horses behind a large, dark farmhouse. Three big silos sat on the side of a gravel driveway between the pens. We started to creep closer to the driveway, but some dogs caught scent of us and came barking. Dakota quickly took some pieces of rabbit meat that he had saved to cook later and threw them to the dogs. That quieted them down and placated them enough to let us into the yard.
We decided that Matt and Doug would take one of the goats and Dakota would grab a couple of chickens, but first I would climb the silo to see if I could get some grain to lure the animals to us. The bottom rung of the ladder to the silo was about shoulder-high to me, so I had to jump up to get my feet on the bottom rung. As soon as I touched the ladder, I knew I was in trouble as an intense pain shot into my arms and through my entire body. The ladder had apparently been rigged to deliver an electrical shock. After that, I lost consciousness for a time. The next thing I knew I was being dragged by someone toward the house. I knew I had been caught.
I panicked, my body still tingling and my mind exploding with fear. I was sure that whoever had captured me was going to kill me. I didn’t even remember at that point that I had wanted to die; instinct took over and my only thought was that I had to get loose. I started to pull and roll out of my captors’ grip, but I wasn’t strong enough yet. A few seconds later, a gun was shoved into my face and a woman yelled at me to stop struggling. I was about to give up when a shot rang out and I thought for a fraction of a second that the lady had shot me after all. But the reactions of the woman and the two teenage boys holding me told me th
at the shot came from the distance. The guys! I heard someone yell and then men shouting.
I gave up then. I didn’t even want to face it if one of the guys had been shot. An old man rushed out of the house and he and the woman carried me inside while the boys ran off toward the field where the shot had come from.
They sat me in a wooden chair by the fire and tied my hands in front of me. I had expected them to tie me to the chair or beat me, but instead they tried to make me comfortable. The woman who had held the gun on me looked me over and asked me if I was alright. She was a pretty woman, dark blond hair, probably in her late thirties or early forties. I nodded in response; I didn’t trust my voice at that moment and I didn’t want to sound like a simpering fool. Besides the older man, there were two older women, grandmas probably, who were looking at me with concern. My mind was still a little numb from the electrical shock and the fear of being caught, so I couldn’t figure out why they would be treating me with such care.
Just then a young man and woman came in. The woman—or maybe she was just a girl—was crying and the man was holding his ear, with blood dripping through his fingers. I had a sick feeling in my gut, thinking that maybe Doug had shot at him. That was so uncharacteristic of the usually happy-go-lucky guy I knew, and I couldn’t quite wrap my mind around that thought. The first woman—I thought she must be the mother of one of these two—started tending to the bloody ear, and then the door opened again. A man carrying a dog and the two teenage boys came in. The man laid the dog on the coffee table and looked over at me.
— What’s his story?
The older man answered.
— He’s just a scared and hungry kid, John.
The man with the dog—John—looked thoughtfully down at the dog for a few seconds, then back at me. His voice was quiet when he replied.
— Well then, give him something to eat.
That set off a flurry of activity with the grandmas scurrying into the kitchen like someone had just pushed their “on” buttons. They soon came back with a plate of delicious-smelling food and a huge glass of milk. I tried to refuse it. I didn’t deserve their kindness; after all, I had trespassed on their property and tried to steal from them. Yet I hadn’t seen this much food—normal-looking food—or even milk for over a year and a half. I fought off the hunger and the desire, but they got the better of me, so I accepted the food with shame in my heart and tears in my eyes. One kind grandma patted my shoulder, but instead of comforting me, it just made me feel guiltier and I couldn’t stop the tears flowing down my cheeks.
I was embarrassed and ashamed, but I knew I needed to apologize. I squeaked out an apology, and the woman who patted me smiled kindly at me. Then she turned and said,
— John, couldn’t we untie him now? He doesn’t look like he’ll hurt anyone.
John agreed and the older of the two teens came over and untied me. He asked me my name, but when I told them it was Ben, they all looked startled and a little suspicious. I found out later that the dog’s name was also Ben and that Doug had shot him as well, luckily just nicking him in the shoulder. The mom—Lauren—made a joke about it being a good thing that the guy was a bad shot, and I couldn’t help but smile a little with relief that Doug hadn’t seriously injured anybody.
The boy who had untied me told me his name was Bracken and that I could stay in his room. He gave me some of his clothes to wear and let me clean up a little in the bathroom. I couldn’t believe they still had warm running water, although not quite enough water pressure to take a full shower. Bracken told me they had made a solar hot water heater and a special kind of pump to bring water in from the well. After months of sleeping on the ground with just a few blankets to keep warm, I couldn’t believe how comfortable the bed was and how warm the house was. Clearly, this family was surviving better than the people living in cities; they had heat, shelter, clothing, plenty of good food, and even running water.
That night, before exhaustion finally took over my brain and body, I told Bracken a little bit about my experiences in the city, leaving out any reference to Sara, of course. I felt like I owed this generous family an explanation as to why the guys and I were trying to steal from them. Bracken seemed to not only understand, but to feel sorry for me. I wasn’t sure I wanted anyone to feel sorry for me, least of all the people I had tried to rob.
Right before going to sleep, I asked Bracken what day it was. When he answered April 13th, I had to smile at the irony. Of course. On my unlucky birthday I almost get electrocuted and my friend shoots an innocent man and his dog.
Chapter 29
Life on the Farm
I decided not to tell Bracken it was my birthday. After the suspicion caused by my name being the same as their dog, I figured the coincidence of it being my birthday was just too great to be believed, so I told Bracken that my birthday was in five days and that I would be turning 16. He offered to teach me how to drive even though there was no gas to get anywhere, and I told him I’d like that. I had no intention of staying there that long, of course, but it made us both feel better to end that awful day on a bright note.
Early the next morning, I crept out of Bracken’s room and quietly made my escape. I wasn’t sure where I was planning to go, but I hoped to catch up to the guys to make sure they were okay and to continue our journey north. Apparently I wasn’t as quiet as I’d thought, because Bracken caught up to me as I was leaving the yard. He grabbed me by the shoulder and turned me around to face him.
— Hey, where’re you going?
— I don’t know. Just going.
— Why? You can stay here. Don’t you want a home to live in?
I thought about that for a moment. What if I couldn’t find the guys? What if they had already left the area, thinking I was dead, pushing harder than ever to get to Omaha? I was forced to think about what it was in Omaha that I wanted and it all came down to this, a home, and here was a home—a nice home with a nice family—being offered to me like it was on a silver platter. But why would they?
— Yeah, more than anything. But why would you guys want me? You don’t owe me anything.
Bracken sounded perturbed when he answered.
— It’s not about owing anybody anything. You need a place and we’ve got a place. And plenty to feed you too. Besides, you’re just a kid. We want you to stay.
I was tired. Tired of arguing, tired of traveling, tired of trying to survive. What Bracken offered me was so tempting, but I was also scared. I had promised myself not to get close to anyone, but I could see myself really getting close to this family. I longed for a mother and a father to take care of me. I longed for doting grandparents to love me unconditionally. I realized that I was jealous of Bracken, of his life and his family. I wanted it so badly, but I was scared of losing everything again. I started crying tears of longing, of sadness, and of shame. Bracken pulled me close and comforted me and I craved that closeness, the acceptance that the guys had given me. If they were indeed gone, maybe I could find it with Bracken, and everything else I desired here with his family. Finally, I gave up and let Bracken lead me back inside.
Later that morning, while I savored a delicious breakfast and watched this happy family who seemed almost oblivious to the hardships of much of the rest of the world, I began to worry about the guys. What if one of them was shot and was lying out there, bleeding to death? The guys had become like older brothers to me and I knew they were kind and generous, really good people. I was scared to bring up the subject, though, worried that the bad feelings Bracken’s family held for Doug would spill over to me and I’d be kicked out of the house. Maybe that would be better, I thought. Maybe I deserved to be. So I decided to ask.
— Do you think you shot any of the guys I was with last night? I just don’t want them to be lying out there bleeding to death. They’re really not bad guys; they took care of me after my parents died.
John, the dad, looked a little pissed off, but he answered nicely enough.
— Well, they ran off
and left you hanging there. But don’t worry; we shot over their heads. We just wanted to scare them off, not hurt them. Alex and I’ll go down there and check around later just to be sure.
Alex was Bracken’s older brother, the one whose ear had been shot, and the pretty girl with copper-colored hair, who had been clinging to him the night before, was his wife, Robin. They made a cute couple and were pretty nice to me even though I had caused them so much pain and heartache.
Later in the day, two cute girls rode up to the house on horses. I had never been so close to a horse and I had certainly never ridden one, but one of the girls, named Jenny, let me ride double with her. The weather was warm and sunny, the girls good company, and for a while I was able to mask the pain in my heart and bury the haunting memories of the city. It was almost like that part of my life had been a dream and I was just now waking up to reality. My old nemesis Time decided to play nice and let me enjoy the afternoon, stretching it out slowly and deliciously, so I could pretend to be happy and normal for a while.
Bracken’s girlfriend, Skylar, was a beautiful girl about the same size that Sara had been, but with light brown hair. Something in the way she talked and looked at Bracken reminded me of Sara, and I realized that I kept staring at her longingly because every time I did, Bracken would glare at me. Later that night, Bracken warned me off her just in case I didn’t understand that she belonged to him and that he intended to marry her. I hadn’t meant to threaten their relationship or to steal her away from him. It’s just that I felt myself drawn to her like hapless waves to a comforting shore. After that, I made more of an effort to control my emotions when I was around her.
For the next two weeks, I tried to fit in to the family, helping with household chores and various farm projects. I tried to please Lauren and John to show them my gratitude and that I was worth their trouble, but when they weren’t around my heart just wasn’t in it. They reminded me of my parents and I so desperately wanted a relationship like that with them, but I knew in my heart it would never be the same; that stage of life was over for me now. I had been too long without parents to care for me; my heart felt hardened and crusted over, too rigid to allow anyone new in. Especially these good, happy people who had no clue what I had been through and could never understand the damage that had been done to my heart.
Time Lost: Teenage Survivalist II Page 14
