“Well I don’t know about most remote,” I said. “We have to come across something sooner or later.”
My arm muscles were on fire. “Break!” I called out loudly.
There was a collective groan from the group as they exhaustedly began dropping their packs. Several slumped beside the supplies they’d been carrying to splay out on the pavement and stretch sore muscles. Others shed their packs and then stood swinging arms, twisting waists, or rolling necks to help alleviate some of the pain incurred by their loads before they collapsed in heaps onto the ground.
Ray and I set Emily and Cashmere down.
“I’m so sorry,” Emily said. “I feel terrible about you having to carry me.” She looked as though she were about to cry.
“It’s not your fault,” I said, wiping the sweat from my forehead.
“I just feel so guilty about it,” she went on. “Maybe I can walk,” she said, struggling to sit up, then cringing and laying back in pain.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Mom,” Claire said, walking up with Jason. She lifted the blanket covering her mother to check the burns and then re-covered her a moment later. “They’re definitely looking better. A few more days and you might be able to get up on your own.”
I know Claire was looking forward to her mother being mobile again. She’d been helping out not only with the medical side of her mother’s injuries but with a lot of the personal hygiene duties as well. That part was not as interesting to her as the burn part. Helping her mother use the restroom and clean herself was becoming tiresome, but Claire didn’t want others to be burdened with the tasks, nor did she want her mother embarrassed anymore than she already was by having others take on such duties.
“Not one car…house…anything,” Will said, shaking his head from where he leaned against a nearby tree since sitting wasn’t easy for him due to his butt wound. “It’s crazy. It’s like we’re suddenly in the middle of nowhere. It makes you wonder…”
In the distance we heard a knocking sound, “Shhh….wait,” I said, holding up a hand. “Listen.”
The knocking went on. It sounded like it was coming from somewhere up the road ahead of us. It was a dull steady thudding that would stop intermittently then resume.
I looked at Ray and then at Will, “What do you think? Should we check it out?”
They both shrugged.
“At this point, I don’t see why not,” Will said.
“Shit, what we got to lose?” Ray sighed.
Personally, I still felt we had quite a bit to lose, but I also thought that any signs of life could prove helpful considering our current predicament.
I stood, and then walked over and offered a hand to Ray, helping him to his feet. We moved Emily over to the side of the road in the off chance that a vehicle should appear. Then we shouldered our rifles and headed off in the direction of the continued knocking.
It felt good to walk free from having to carry a heavy pack or haul Emily’s stretcher.
“Sounds like someone chopping wood,” I said as we walked.
“That’s what I was thinking,” Ray nodded.
I took a deep breath. Part of me was excited at the prospect of finding someone who might be able to help us. The other part of me was concerned that in this new world, no one would be willing to help us. We might only be falling into another situation like the one we encountered back in Tipton, and I was tired of fighting. There’d been too much of it. Fighting in southern Illinois, fighting in Tennessee, and now we were battling the elements and starvation in Georgia. It seemed like each time we won one battle, we were confronted with a new one.
As the group had been walking, the majority of the landscape around us had been open fields or land sparsely populated with small tress and scrub brush. Eventually though, we came to a bend in the road where the trees began to thicken. This was the area from which the sound was emanating.
We slowed our pace, growing more cautious in our approach. I didn’t think it was a trap, since why would anyone be setting a trap out here in the middle of nowhere and with no one around? Still, I didn’t think it would be smart to just go strolling up to someone without knowing what we were first getting ourselves into.
We rounded the bend in the road. Tall pines loomed on either side of us. I liked their cover since it helped mask our approach, but at the same time, it made it more difficult to see. The trees cast tall shadows across the road that moved and shape-shifted around us as they swayed in the breeze. As the road straightened out again, to our right we could see a man chopping away at a felled tree. A horse was tethered to a nearby pine, a wooden cart half full of cut logs hitched to it. The man’s back was to us, so he had no idea we were there until we were about 20 feet behind him when he must have sensed our presence. He paused in his chopping, glanced over his shoulder and then turned. Seeing our weapons he dropped his ax and made a move for a shotgun that sat resting against the far side of the tree where he’d been working.
“Ah, ah, ah,” I said, as Ray and I both raised our own weapons and took aim at him. “Hold it right there.”
He stopped instantly and raised his hands.
I’d say the man was somewhere in his late 60s. He wore heavy work boots, khaki pants, a black wool coat, and a tan hunting cap. He had a bushy white beard and wore spectacles. He actually kind of reminded me of Santa Claus.
“Just take it easy. We don’t want any trouble, old timer,” I said to him.
He looked unsure and somewhat frightened.
“What do you want?” he asked, his sturdy voice not indicating the emotions his face had given away.
“We’re just passing through,” I said. “You out here alone?” I asked.
The man nodded. I lowered my weapon. Ray followed suit. We walked up close to the old man. He had strong blue eyes that twinkled in the bits of sunlight that managed to filter their way down between the pines. “John,” I nodded, holding out my hand once we were close enough.
He shook it. “Jonah,” he said, almost smiling.
“This is Ray,” I nodded. They shook hands as well.
“Pleased to meet you,” Jonah said to Ray.
“Likewise,” Ray agreed.
“I was just out cutting some extra wood,” Jonah said. “Our supply is running low and it still gets pretty chilly at night.”
“You’re telling us,” Ray laughed. “We’ve been sleeping outdoors all this past week.”
“Oh my!” Jonah said, seeming to let his guard down a bit as he appeared to realize that we weren’t here to do him harm. “My thin blood would never allow that,” he shook his head. “Born and bread here in Georgia and I can’t tolerate the cold, no sir.” He paused, looking confused and scanning the area behind us. “Just you two out here?” he frowned.
“Our families are a little ways back. We heard your chopping and came up ahead to investigate,” I explained.
“Ah,” he nodded. “Good thinking,” he raised his white eyebrows. “Can’t be too careful these days,” he shook his head. “Have to say though, we don’t get many people round these parts. Didn’t get many before the sickness came through; don’t get any now.”
“Your family lives out here with you?” I asked.
“Just me and Wilma…my wife,” he smiled. “You said you’re just passing through,” his brow furrowed as he thought. “Where y’all headed?”
I shrugged, “We were hoping to make it down to Florida, but we ran out of gas. We were camping at a spot a couple miles back, but the rain and cold really got to us and our food supply started running out. Kind of forced us to move on. You’re the first person we’ve seen in almost a week. At this point, we’re just looking for a place to stay.”
“Oh, well why didn’t you say so?” he smiled. “It’d be nice to have a little company. We’d be happy to offer our hospitality, me and Wilma. We don’t have much, but we’d be willing to share what we got. How many in your group?”
“Thirteen in total,” I said.
“Heck, Jonah, just about anything would be better than what we’ve had the last few days,” I shook my head. “We’d certainly appreciate you letting us stay…just for a day or two,” I added. “We don’t have much to offer either, but we got some good strong hands.”
“That’s about the only thing that’s worth a hoot these days,” Jonah smiled.
“Tell you what,” I said. “How about we head back and collect the rest of our group? How far is your place from here?”
“Just up the road a piece,” he said. “Less than a quarter mile.”
“Well, we’ll go back, get the others, and meet you here. We don’t want to go scaring your wife by showing up at your front door uninvited and unannounced.”
“Smart move,” he nodded, grinning and patting his shotgun beside him. “She’s got one just like this, and she ain’t afraid to use it.”
This time it was our turn to be wide-eyed,
“Well then, we’ll definitely wait for you to make the introductions,” said Ray.
“We have a couple injured, so it might take us a little while,” I told Jonah.
“No hurry,” he said, picking up his ax. “No hurry at all. I’ll be here.” And with that, he went back to his chopping.
About ten minutes later, our entire group met back up with Jonah and introductions were made all around. We help him load up the last few logs into his cart and then followed him to his farm.
His home turned out to be a lovely little four-bedroom white farmhouse. There was a white picket fence with peeling paint that skirted the small front yard, and a mailbox that tilted perilously to one side near where the front walk met with the road.
“My granddaddy built this place in 1882,” Jonah smiled on proudly as we approached.
A huge red barn and aging cement silo that was missing its top along with many of its side panels sat several hundred yards from the home. A large, and currently fallow garden, lay in the space between the barn and the farmhouse. Other than that, there wasn’t much around. There was a small grove of trees out back, a mud pit that appeared to have once been a pond, a front yard of patchy crab grass, and acres of waist-high grasses surrounding the farm that might once have been cropland.
Jonah unhitched his cartful of wood down by the barn to be chopped, led his horse inside where he watered and then stabled it, and then he took us up to the house. We must have been a rag-tag looking bunch, but it didn’t seem to faze his wife Wilma who was waiting for us on the front porch.
Wilma was a motherly-looking sort with white hair on her head and a smile on her face just like her husband. She welcomed us with open arms…literally. Out on the front porch, she stood in a dusty white apron with arms outstretched to greet us.
“Welcome, welcome,” she beckoned. “Welcome weary travelers. Come one, come all, welcome, welcome.”
I felt like we were being greeted by a carnival barker, but I’d take this over gunfire any day.
The elderly couple set about trying to make everyone as comfortable as possible. It was almost as though they were treating this as a sort of big family reunion. It seemed like we were all suddenly back from a long and extremely arduous trip and grandma and grandpa were here to welcome us home.
Out of respect and safety for our elderly hosts, we decided to house the sick out in the barn. Dad was fine with it. Little Paul wasn’t too happy about the situation, but Sharron volunteered to stay with him, and Shane thought the barn looked “cool,” so he and Joanna said they’d stay there too, which made it like a big sleepover for Paul.
Jonah took the group down for a tour of the massive structure shortly after we arrived. He hadn’t lied when he said the barn was nice. For a barn, it was surprisingly orderly. It had that wonderful hay smell to it and was nothing like the shabby old lean-to we’d been forced to shelter in a week prior. There was plenty of room to spread out in, an old wood stove for heat, and the only other occupant was Jonah’s horse, whose name we later learned was Poobah. We didn’t bother to ask why or how he’d come up with the name.
After checking the place out, Joanna stayed behind with Dad, Paul, and Shane to start getting things set up for their stay. Jonah said Wilma would bring pillows and blankets out later. The rest of us were invited inside the house to start settling into our new quarters.
Wilma took an immediate shine to the children, especially Jason. She chortled, and cuddled, and petted, and snuggled, and generally treated all the kids – except for Paul, who we left to keep his distance in the barn because of his cough – like they were the only kids left on earth. She even brought out a jar of canned peaches and a small jar of raspberry jam and crackers “just for the kids” and which they “oohed” and “ahhed” over and demolished in minutes. Then she sent a special plate of the goodies down for Paul to enjoy.
“Don’t spoil them too bad,” Claire laughed. “They’ll want to stay with you forever.”
“That’d be just fine with me,” said Wilma. “I love children, just love them.”
She choked up a little as she finished the words, and I noticed a tear run down her cheek. I felt it better not to ask about her own family situation. I guessed that the flu may have claimed a few of her children and maybe even grandchildren as well.
Emily was immediately given a bed in the one spare bedroom downstairs which was absolute heaven for her considering her sleeping situations since leaving the castle. And Will was provided a comfy spot on the sofa beside the now useless television in the living room. Here he could easily lie on his stomach and alleviate some of the pressure on his still sore and healing rear end.
The rest of us were given the grand tour of the place, which took all of about three minutes. There were two bathrooms – one upstairs and one down – that were no longer used due to lack of running water. There were three more bedrooms upstairs in addition to the one downstairs. There was a nice-sized living room, kitchen, dining room, and mudroom, also all downstairs.
Wilma chortled away, pointing out old black and white family photos as she led the tour group. Jonah quietly followed behind the group, seeming almost embarrassed by his talkative wife.
As we arrived in the kitchen, Wilma said, “Where are my manners. You all must be famished. Why don’t I warm some pitchers of water for washing up and make us a nice early dinner?”
“That would be wonderful,” I said, amazed by the hospitality we were being shown. “I can’t thank you enough for this. It’s been a terribly rough week.”
Wilma toddled over and took my hands in hers, “Think nothing of it dear. Now…” she turned to Claire, Sharron, and Pam, “…if you ladies would lend me a hand, I’m sure the men would like to sit and talk a spell.”
Her attitude toward the sexes struck me as extremely old fashioned, but then again, I had to remind myself of where we were and the age of the people with whom we were dealing. And Claire and the others seemed not to mind. I think everyone was just happy to finally have food, shelter, and welcoming hosts. I know I was.
CHAPTER 15
Jake closed his eyes and waited for death to come. A second later, he heard the explosion of the shot.
He was dead.
He knew it would happen eventually, but just not this soon and not in this way; not by his lover’s hand. But if he was dead, it felt as though nothing had changed. In an instant, his eyes were open and he was looking at Ava, her gun still trained on him, but it wasn’t. It was aimed slightly to his right. As he wondered if, in some amazing stroke of luck, she had somehow missed him or if the gun had malfunctioned, he heard something heavy fal
l behind him. He turned slightly to look. The fat man lay in a heap upon the floor. The thin man stood staring down at his compatriot, mouth hanging open, wordless as usual. Ava swiftly moved her gun over a few inches and trained it on him.
“You have two choices,” she said to him calmly. “You can join us or you can join him,” she nodded to the dead fat man. “It’s your choice.”
Jake quickly realized what was going on. Suddenly the power dynamics had shifted. Ava was calling the shots here, but he wasn’t going to let on to this in front of the thin man. Instead, he acted as though this was all part of the plan.
“I…I…I’ll join you,” stuttered the thin man.
“You made a smart decision,” Jake said. “You’re with winners now.” His voice brimmed with confidence.
Ava was surprised just how unshaken Jake seemed by what had just occurred. He hadn’t planned it, and hadn’t even known what was going on, but if she knew anything about Jake, it was that he was good at adapting quickly. He had to be for his scrawny little white ass to have gotten this far.
“What’s your name?” Jake asked.
“Chadwick,” the thin man responded nervously.
“Chadwick?” Jake responded incredulously. “What the fuck kind of name is that? From here on out, your name is Wicks. Got it?”
The thin man nodded his head in silent agreement.
“Got a family?” Jake asked.
“Just a brother,” Wicks said.
“Got a vehicle?” Jake asked.
“Uh huh,” Wicks nodded.
“Jesus, you don’t talk much, do you?” Jake shook his head. “What kind of vehicle?”
“SUV,” Wicks said.
“How far is it from here?”
“Not far,” Wicks shook his head eagerly.
“Go get it.”
Wicks scurried back outside.
“Think he’ll come back?” Ava asked.
“He’ll be back,” Jake nodded confidently.
Suddenly Ava had her gun trained back on Jake.
The Systemic Series - Box Set Page 54
