by J. R. Tate
For Cecilia, for Ty, the looters, and to keep the animals from trailing them.
Chapter Seventeen
As expected, Ryan hadn’t slept a wink. He laid on the ground, staring up at the stars and the bright moon, and when his two hours were up, he stood guard the rest of the night, allowing Steve to get rest. A few other coyotes were spotted in the distance, but they never got close enough to pose a problem.
He pulled his handgun from his pocket and slipped the magazine from the handle. It was full, but it was all he had. At least the shotgun could be used as a weapon without shells. It would just require getting closer to whatever nuisance was causing problems, whether it was another person or rabid dogs.
The sun slowly came up over the top of the mountains. There wasn’t a cloud in the sky, and for a moment, Ryan hoped that the weather would be perfect to cover several miles. He had a hard time getting a good vantage point, but Harper Springs was still probably a good seven to eight miles north of their location. If everything cooperated, they could get there by later in the day, of course, if they kept a good pace. Having a decent dinner the night before was helpful, he just wished he was able to get more sleep than he had.
He gathered up some pine needles for kindling, stacked some wood, and got a fire going. Coffee sounded good, and he poured some water and grounds in the percolator. It was becoming their biggest necessity. It’d be his saving grace after a crazy night that almost ruined his plans. With so much on his shoulders, he had to be smart. If only he could reach his dad on his cell phone and see how Ty was doing.
Steve stretched out and tossed the blanket aside, grumbling something about how early it was. “What’s for breakfast?”
“Bacon, eggs, and hash browns,” Ryan replied, smirking. It made his mouth water, and he pulled a package of pop tarts from his bag, compliments of the looters. They were brown sugar and cinnamon, and would taste great with the coffee.
Tossing Steve a foil pack, he opened his and dipped it in his drink. He looked over at the dead coyote he had shot just hours before. Too bad it wasn’t edible. The more they used the land, the less they’d have to dip into their reserve food supply.
“Bacon and eggs sound amazing,” Steve said as he poured himself a mug of coffee. “How low are we running on this?”
“Half a bag. I guess we better cut down and not have it every morning.”
“You look exhausted, Ryan. Are you okay?”
“Couldn’t sleep.” Ryan shrugged and stoked the fire. “You see anything when you were on lookout last night?”
“Not a damn thing. I know you care about that woman over there,” Steve pointed and diverted his attention back to Ryan, “but I think it’s making us a sitting duck for animals to come up.”
“I’m planning to head north after we finish with breakfast. By the time we get back to fix the car, her body will likely be gone anyway. You’re right, I do care for her, but she’s gone. I have to wonder how many more folks we’ll run across that I know.”
Steve didn’t say anything, and Ryan gathered up their supplies. Sloshing the propane bottle, they still had a good supply of it. He looked over the car one last time, assessing the damage. By the time they got back, maybe it’d be completely dry, but interior damage was already occurring. Maybe he’d find what he’d need on the way to town and this was a non-issue. But having a car sure would solve a lot of problems. He could drive his family out of here and to a place of safety, where the weather hadn’t completely destroyed everything around it. Did a place like that even exist anymore? He’d never know until they actually could be mobile and leave.
“We’ll follow the highway today. I think we might have a better chance of running across others, and maybe a functional car too. We can zig-zag toward the river if we are running low on food or water, but if we move fast, that won’t matter.” Ryan approached Steve and tossed him his bag. “If you have any ideas on anything, let me know. But we gotta get going.”
“There’s not a cloud in the sky. It’s nice to see some blue for a change.”
There was a dusty haze at eye level, but it did seem pretty. “All the more reason for us to keep going. A clear morning is a huge ingredient in an active afternoon. I know of a few farms between here and where we are going, so if need be, we might have a cellar to get to just in case.”
“And in town? Are there storm shelters?”
Ryan nodded and sipped from the canteen. “There’s a community cellar and a few of the churches had basements. Lots of the houses do too. That’s where we might be able to find more supplies. People use them as storage rooms, and if they haven’t already been ravaged, it’ll feel like a gold mine.”
He took one last look at Mrs. McElroy, the reality finally setting in that the casualties were outnumbering the living. Weaving down a trail, Ryan was satisfied with the immediate boost of energy. A combination of coffee, a good dinner, and a game plan made him feel inspired. He tried not to think about the past. He was going to get help and find Cecilia, come hell or high water, and luckily for them, he was already enduring both.
~~
Darryl spent most of his time walking around, seeing what he could find. He had gathered up a pile of junk that might eventually serve as things they could use. He had gotten Ty out of the cellar, spending a little more time each day in the fresh air, but making sure he took it easy. The boy seemed dizzy and confused at times, and since he claimed he couldn’t feel his arm, he was moving it around more, which Darryl feared would cause even more damage.
What would Ryan do in this situation? There was a small infection right near the bone, but it didn’t appear to be spreading yet. He didn’t know where to begin when it came to amputating. What would be worse? He was damned if he did and damned if he didn’t.
“So what all do we have, grandpa?” Ty stood over the pile of things. It was like a scavenger hunt for the little guy, and it was getting both of their minds off of everything else.
They both sat beside the pile, sifting through it. “Well, there’s a hammer, a wrench, a leather strap, probably for the horses, and a hair brush.” Darryl held it up and ran it through Ty’s hair. It was starting to get shaggy, and he scrubbed his hand down his own face. His beard was full now and he probably looked like a mountain man.
“That looks like my mommy’s!” Ty’s eyes lit up. “She will want that!”
Darryl nodded and looked away. To have the ignorance of a child would be what got him through this, but instead, he knew about reality. Ryan and Cecilia were gone. It’d kill him when Ty followed, all because he didn’t know a damn thing about medicine and keeping his arm healthy. He was so used to Googling things, and now without the internet, they backtracked into the nineteenth century again. How did people back then survive? Their lifespans were a lot shorter, probably for the very reason that they just didn’t know things. Losing a five-year-old boy wasn’t something out of the ordinary like it was nowadays.
When he looked back at Ty, his heart skipped a beat. A man he didn’t recognize stood at the opening of the cellar, his hands shaking. He was covered in dirt and grime, and his expression was full of hate. The man was on the edge of doing something crazy – times like this brought desperation out in some of the most honest people.
Darryl stood between him and the boy. There were about forty yards between them. “Mister, can I help you with something?”
“No. You can’t help me with a damn thing.”
“What is it that you need?”
“The man that lives here. Where is he?”
Darryl looked down at Ty, who watched on like it was a movie playing out on the big screen. How did he know Ryan, and what did he want with him?
“He’s not here.”
“I can see that! Where is he?”
Darryl tried not to make any sudden movements. He didn’t know if the man was armed or what he might be capable of. “He went to get some help. He’s trying to find his wife.”
“Everyone is dead. He’ll be
dead soon too.”
“Everything will work out, mister.”
“Stop calling me mister! My name is Doug, and I’m looking for the man that lives here! He killed my brother and he locked me in a cellar!”
Did Ryan really do that? Maybe he had the person mixed up. How did he know Ryan even lived here? “Are you sure you’re looking for the man that lives here? That doesn’t sound like something my son would do.”
“So he’s your son, huh?” Doug’s eyes widened and he looked down at Ty. “So that makes that little kid his son? I ought to shoot him like he shot my brother! I should take away something of his since he took away something of mine!”
Darryl was aware of the gun in his pocket. It was just a small, twenty-two caliber pistol, but if he needed to use it, it’d at least slow Doug down. He wouldn’t allow anything to happen to Ty.
“I’m going to ask you again, Doug. How do you know that the guy who did that to your brother is the man that lives here?”
“We came by a few weeks ago. It was him! He chased us off. And now I’m back to finish it all off.”
“Why did he kill your brother? Ryan isn’t a killer. There must have been a reason.”
Doug shook his head and tears rolled down his cheeks. “That doesn’t matter. None of this matters. We will all be dead soon. If your son is out there right now, he won’t make it back anyway. But at least I’ll have the satisfaction in knowing I got revenge for my brother!” He pounded his chest with his fist and spit escaped from the corner of his mouth. “I can’t let him die in vain!”
“And you’re not going to kill a kid,” Darryl said, staying between Ty and Doug. “I know you’re desperate. We all our. Going around looting and wreaking havoc is only going to make it worse. Coming together and being a team is what will make us overcome all of this.” Darryl spread his hands, motioning toward their surroundings. “I’d say sorry for Ryan killing your brother, but he did it for a reason. My best guess is he did it because you were about to kill him, yeah?”
“He was a threat to our plan.”
“And what plan might that be? World domination? You saw a chance to take control and Ryan was stronger, is that it?”
Doug’s eyes widened at the assumption, shocked that Darryl wasn’t that far from the truth. “We figured if we got the upper hand, the strong would survive. We didn’t want to be weak. We wanted to survive!” He pounded his chest again. “And now my brother is gone and I have no one.”
“I don’t know you from Adam, but I bet there’s some good in that heart. Help is coming. Don’t you want to be on the right side of the law when things get back to normal?”
“Normal? What does that word even mean? The life you knew before is gone. This is how it is. Ain’t no one gonna give a damn about the law. All that matters is who is strong and who can survive. Killing my brother knocked me down for a bit, but I found a way out of that cellar and here I am. I am a thorn in your son’s side. He will not become the leader. It’ll be me! Taking something near and dear to him will knock him off his high horse, and that is why I’m here! If it can’t be him that I kill, at least I can get the next best thing.”
Doug looked at Ty and took several steps forward. Darryl pulled the pistol from his pocket and aimed, taking a moment to comprehend what was happening. If he hesitated too long, it’d be too late, and Ty would be gone. Just as he swore to Ryan, he wouldn’t let anything happen to the kid. He aimed low and pulled the trigger. A loud shot echoed and Doug fell to the ground, his face in the mud below.
“Grandpa, you shot him!”
It wasn’t a life-threatening wound, but one that slowed him down. Rolling on his back, Doug let out a yell and held his leg. Darryl had hit him in the shin, and a small spot of blood soaked into his pants.
Standing over him, Darryl aimed the gun between Doug’s eyes. “You come any closer to my grandson, and I’ll make sure this one kills you.” At point blank range, even the twenty-two was strong enough to finish the job.
Doug crawled away, leaving a blood trail in the dirt. It didn’t seem that serious, but with the lack of healthcare and emergency personnel, it could pose a problem. He put his hands over the wound and refused to make eye contact with Darryl.
“I don’t have enough food to support you here, but I’m going to make damn sure you don’t go hurt anyone else, you get me?” Darryl knelt beside him and offered a piece of gauze. “It’s going to hurt for a while, but you’ll live. You better be glad I didn’t have a bigger gun on me.”
“If you expect me to say thank you, you’re mistaken,” Doug said through clenched teeth. “Your son left me some food when he locked me in the cellar. I put some in my bag over there.” He pointed to the duffel bag by the cellar door.
“I told you he wasn’t a killer. Ryan’s a good guy.”
“I don’t share the same opinion. So, what now?”
“I mean what I say. You’re not going to go hurt anyone else. And from the looks of things, you won’t be walking that far for a while.” Darryl grabbed some of the rope that Ryan had made and secured Doug to a tree. “There’s only a few men I trust in this world, and you ain’t one of them. With my grandson being threatened, I’ve gotta keep you tied up.”
He double checked the knots. They weren’t the strongest, so he’d have to keep an eye on him. They’d serve as decent restraints temporarily, but Darryl wouldn’t be surprised if Doug had managed to break loose. He patted him down, pulling a knife from his pocket. Past that, he didn’t have anything useful on him.
“You really think I could hurt a child?” Doug asked, glaring up at him.
“I don’t know what to think. I don’t know you. But you came here with a plan to hurt Ryan, and that is enough evidence for me to know that you’re capable of just about anything. I’d rather not take a chance.”
“And what if a storm comes? I’ll die tied up to a tree like this!”
“I guess you should’ve thought about that before you decided to go mess with people.” Darryl turned his attention back to Ty. “Hey buddy, let’s get the stuff you found gathered up. It’s about time to get something to eat.”
Chapter Eighteen
The sound of silence was deafening. Ryan and Steve were quiet for most of the day, but one thing that bugged Ryan was the lack of weather. Daytime temperatures easily climbed almost to one hundred, but the sky was as blue as a normal day. It felt weird to complain about something like that. It was allowing them to cover several miles without having to outrun shards of hail and lightning. He didn’t dare say anything out loud and chance jinxing it, but this wasn’t normal.
There wasn’t a single abandoned car or sign of life for miles. Every other tree seemed to be uprooted, aiding in the assumption that the area they were in seemed to have gotten hit even worse, if that were even possible. Ryan used the spear he had made as a walking stick and adjusted the strap on the shotgun. As they gathered supplies, their load was getting heavy, but he wasn’t willing to part with any of it, even if it was something as simple as a screw or nail.
Jabbing the point into the mud, he pushed harder with each step. It was a good stress relief and it kept his mind from running in a million different directions. The sun beat down on them and he licked his lips, but no moisture was left on his tongue. He drank from the canteen and offered some to Steve, who obliged. It wasn’t cold anymore, but at least it was wet. He was definitely getting dehydrated, but until they went back toward the river, it would have to do.
“I never thought I’d say this, but I wish it’d rain. Nothing crazy, just a nice rain shower to cool us down some.”
“Look over there!” Steve pointed to the west. It was an old farmhouse, half-way standing. It was the only structure Ryan had seen that hadn’t been completely swept away. It wasn’t liveable, but two of the four walls were still intact. Maybe someone would be there.
Hurrying his pace, Ryan jogged, yelling out for anyone. No one answered and as he got closer, he realized it was one of his customer
s. Taking his cap off, he felt the emotions well up inside him.
“Larry?”
“You know who lives here?”
Ryan nodded and stumbled up the rickety steps. The roof was caved in and bricks had toppled over in large piles. A large tree cascaded over what was left. If he was ready to stop for the night, it would’ve served as the perfect shelter.
“He was one of my frequent fliers. He had several old trucks he used on his farm.” And as luck would have it, there wasn’t a single truck left. How could a storm be so random in its destruction?
“He have a cellar?”
“No, I think this house had a basement.”
Ryan was careful where he took his steps. A nail through the sole of his boot would be painful. Broken glass crackled under his feet, and in the middle of the wreckage laid an old picture of Larry and his wife. Picking it up, Ryan wiped the frame with his index finger. Droplets of condensation were inside the glass, but the picture seemed to be okay.
“That’s him. His wife died a couple of years ago. Car wreck. Ever since then, he spent a lot of time at the shop. He always wanted someone to talk to, and I didn’t mind the conversation.”
“Maybe he’s in his basement waiting for someone to come get him.”
Ryan dug through the mess. He hadn’t ever visited Larry at his house, but he found an opening in the floor that revealed a big staircase. It was pitch black and he flipped on a flashlight as he went down.
“Larry!”
There was no sound, and when Ryan reached the floor, he flashed the light beam in every corner, stopping when he saw something crouched on the ground. Approaching slowly, he remained cautious. With all of the looters and uncertainty, he didn’t want to walk right into a trap.
“Larry?” He pushed on the man’s shoulder, and the body fell to the floor. It was Larry, and he was dead. Ryan took a step back, his breath catching in his throat. “Son of a...”
