by Linda Barlow
“Stop that,” I said softly.
He raised his eyebrows.
“I’m talking to my vagina, not to you.”
A grin slip his face. “What are you saying to your vagina? Or is that too personal a question?”
“I’m telling it not to get all gushy. Because I don’t want to waste body fluids!”
“We’ll find water,” he promised, “And then we can let your vagina have some fun.”
Chapter 36—Shane
I tramped up the wash, which sloped at a gentle uphill angle toward a rocky outcropping and some higher hills. The land here was greener than the flatter area where we had camped last night, but so far I hadn’t found any moist ground.
I grasped my small folded shovel, a tool I’d nearly left at home. But I knew from long experience that it was unwise to take a road trip without a few basic tools. It wasn’t just my SEAL training that had taught me this. My mom and I had camped in the Montana wilderness frequently when I’d been a boy.
She was a skilled outdoorswoman, and she had taught me to love and respect nature. We’d always spent considerable time planning our hikes, and she’d always insisted on having a well-stocked emergency kit. SEAL training had taught me to survive in all climates and all terrains. But when you were running low on water, the need to find it trumped everything else. Not even a highly trained Navy corpsman could keep people alive without adequate hydration.
I was pretty impressed, actually, with the way Cassie had behaved so far in this mess. She hadn’t bitched or complained, at least not out loud. If clowning was her way of coping, that was a helluva lot better than tears.
I tried to imagine one of the girls I occasionally fucked marooned in the desert. Those women would be useless. Nothing but a burden. But Cassie had drunk what water I’d ordered her to drink and she hadn’t complained when I’d offered her little in the way of food. She understood what we were doing and why. She obviously knew the dangers, too, but she was keeping it together.
In a way, she reminded me of my mom.
At the base of a broad-leafed tree, I unfolded the shovel and dug a hole, trying not to expend too much energy. The earth was moist a few inches down, so I dug a little deeper. Water didn’t start rising in the hole, but it might if I waited a bit. Promising, but not great. I left the hole open and moved on.
I examined rocks and crevasses, looking for hollows where rainwater might have collected. But it must not have rained for a while. Frequently, I looked back in Cassie’s direction and listened in case she was calling or whistling for me. I could no longer see the camp because of the twists and turns of the wash and the outcroppings of rock.
A rock cliff rose around the next bed, falling from a large outcropping of granite. I stood still, listening. Overhead I saw a dove, and I thought I could hear the buzzing of bees.
I scanned the rock surface. Pigeons and doves required a water source. Bees built their hives within reach of one. The cliff wall was sheer, but I could scale it with some effort. I hadn’t brought climbing rope, and doing it without Cassie nearby would be foolish, because if I fell and hurt myself, she’d be left alone out here without water. That wasn’t an option.
I prowled around the side of the outcropping, noting the greenery and listening for the sound of flowing water. An aftershock shook the earth, and stones crumbled from overhead. I ducked out of the way as a rock the size of a baseball just missed hitting me.
Fuck. I hoped Cassie was okay. That had been a big damn aftershock. I listened for her when the earth gods quieted again.
I was listening so hard for any trickle of water that I was startled when I heard a different sound. It sounded like an engine. It was coming from the other side of the ridge, off to the north. I recalled from the map that there was a large peninsula up that way that was pretty undeveloped.
I wasn’t sure if there were any roads there. Well, more dirt roads, probably. Those weren’t all on the map. Could we be near someone who could help us? If I didn’t find some water soon, we were truly fucked.
I climbed a little higher, but except for the cries of the birds and the buzz of insects, all seemed quiet. Then I heard it again, far in the distance. The revving of an engine—a car, or maybe a motorcycle. Sounded like it was headed in the opposite direction from us, though.
I remembered those two hulking motorcycle club dudes we’d seen a couple times. Those guys had been bad news. I wouldn’t want to run into them again while Cassie and I were strung out like this.
There could be other bad guys around, too, especially on these less touristy shores. Baja was a popular place for bikers, both the good and the bad kind. I wished I’d stayed on the highway. In a disaster, there would be military vehicles on the roads and planes overflying the area, assessing the damage.
That’s what comes of trying to do Cassie a favor and taking her to visit her damn whale-watcher dude. I couldn’t believe I’d been such a sap.
And we would’ve been better off driving down in my truck, but there was no way I could have anticipated this disaster.
There were no more engine sounds. But when I walked a little farther, what I heard was a trickle. It took me a few moments to locate it—it was around yet another granite outcropping: a small flow of water was sliding down over the rock face from ledge a few yards above. It wasn’t much, but it was water. I propped one of the canteens under the flow and waited for it to fill. Then I bathed my hands and face in the moisture.
I leaned against the cliff in the shade while the canteen filled. It took about twenty minutes to fill my 40-ounce container. I also had a gallon container that I decided to leave here to catch the flow. There was a risk that animals would knock it over, but I propped it up as well as I could.
I needed to get back to Cassie. The water was cool, so it was probably coming from a spring, especially since I didn’t see any other sources of rain run-off. If it were a spring, it would probably keep producing.
I’d hoped for a creek or a stream, but this was good. We could survive with this, as long as the spring kept flowing. But we were in the middle of nowhere, and we couldn’t count on being rescued out here. Unless cellular came back or I could repair that satellite phone.
Feeling tired and hot but reassured, I headed back to Cassie. Like I promised her, we were going to be okay. Nothing was going to happen to Cassie, not on my watch.
Chapter 37—Cassie
Shane came back before I got too antsy, thank goodness. It was nerve-wracking, but apart from a couple more aftershocks, nothing horrible happened while he was gone. I hated that I felt so dependent upon him.
He smiled as he handed over a full canteen. “Oh my God! You found some!” I jumped up and hugged him hard. He hugged back, and then pulled away.
“A small spring. It’s not great, but it’s better than nothing. I left the gallon container there to fill. In the meantime, we have to purify this.”
Right. We couldn’t just drink it.
Shane removed a small plastic bottle from his emergency pack. “Bleach. A few drops will do the trick. I’m going to strain it first, though. Give me that other empty container.”
He used his bandana to strain the water. He then added the chlorine and let it sit. We’d be drinking water that tasted like a swimming pool, but at least it would be free of pathogens.
“You rock.”
We both drank, and I felt a whole lot cheerier. Dying of dehydration a couple days before my father’s wedding had really seemed an unpleasant fate.
“We should probably move closer to the sea. If we cross that ridge, it’ll be downhill to the ocean.”
“Cool. We can catch fish and suck fresh water from their eyes and spines.”
He looked at me. “Have you ever done that?”
“No, but my dad and I took a survival course once.”
“I’m trying to imagine you sucking on a fish eye.”
I gave him a big grin. Finding water had made me feel a whole lot better. “I can think of
things I’d rather suck on.”
He laughed. He hadn’t laughed that often since the earthquake and it lit up his face. “So you’re game for setting out for the sea?”
“If you think it’s our best bet, yeah, I’m game.”
“Okay. We have water and can get more, so let’s stay here for a siesta and then head out. I think we can get to the shore before nightfall. Where there’s water, there will be wildlife. I don’t want to run into something in the dark that I might not be quick enough to protect you from.”
I was beginning to realize that he was all about protecting me. I liked it. But I knew it was the SEAL thing. It wasn’t as if he actually cared about me. It was his duty to protect someone he figured was weaker than he was.
He went back to the spring to fetch the container he’d left there. When he returned, he was excited. “I went a little higher, to get a better look. We’re even closer to the sea than I thought. There’s a creek—almost dry but with a trickle of fresh water. But better still, I saw smoke.”
“What sort of smoke?”
“I couldn’t see. It’s behind a ridge near the shore. I think it’s a camp of some sort. Maybe it’s your whale-whisperer.”
“Oh, I hope so!”
“Whoever they are, they might have supplies or communications. We’ll have to be careful, though, in case they’re unfriendly.”
“Will people really be unfriendly in a disaster zone?”
He looked at me with eyes that had seen a lot of nasty stuff. “You’d never know,” was all he said.
Chapter 38—Shane
In my line of work, there was no room for luck. We trained extensively; we were intricate machines, human terminators. Part of the reason that BUD/S training was so intensive and brutal was that we were taught to survive anything. SEAL: Sea, Air, Land. But today, I prayed for some good fortune.
We were dehydrated and hungry. Cassie’s lips looked ashen, her eyes tired. I was dizzy and had a headache, not sure if it was from the extreme heat, the rationing of water, or limited food, more likely from a combination of all the elements.
I motioned for her to get back on my bike. She seemed a bit shaky and I wanted nothing more but to hold her in my arms, promise her I would keep her safe. I had a fleeting thought what it would be like to protect her not just through this trip, but forever. But I didn’t make promises I couldn’t keep.
A mile turned into ten, my eyes focused on the road. Hoping for some sign of life or the smoke I’d seen in the distance.
But what I found was something better. A sign. An actual sign.
A sign with no letters—just a pictograph of a crescent shaped moon with a whale underneath.
I kicked down the stand.
Cassie’s lips brush over my ear. “Shane! This is the place I was telling you about. A moon! Meztli means moon in Nahuatl.”
Nahuatl? At this point I didn’t care what the fuck language this guy spoke, as long as he had water. But as we exited the road, the first thing I noticed was bricks—huge adobe bricks, collapsed over what seemed to be some type of dwelling.
Cassie and I drove up and took off our helmets. I pulled out my knife, I didn’t know who I was going to encounter here, even the so-called whale-whisperer. Besides, I hadn’t forgotten those motorcycle engines I’d thought I’d heard.
I motioned Cassie to stay silent. There was a decaying truck with what looked like herbs growing out of its back, a broken down motorcycle, and a stacked rock fence. I heard the distant sound of a coyote baying; the howl almost soothing. The ground had no fresh tracks, so I assumed that no one else had been here since the quake, which alleviated my fear of looters.
I decided it was safe enough to call out. “Hola. ¿Hay alguien ahí?”
Silence. I held Cassie to my side, and pushed in the door to the hut.“Hola.”
A Chihuahua seemed to fly out of dwelling, running frenzied in a circle, nipping at my ankles, as if she were pulling me inside.
I scanned the house, clay pots strewn everywhere, broken stone dishes. I waded through the mess to the back where I spotted a man, early fifties, long black hair streaked with silver, an ice chest pressing on his chest.
I lifted it off him, noticing the gash on his leg. “Cass, get my kit and our water.”
She ran to the bike as I laid the guy out and elevated his legs with a chair I found. I reached down to his wrist and detected a pulse. Airways, Breathing, Circulation. I pressed my ear to his mouth, and could hear a shallow breath.
I tilted his head back, and he coughed. I checked him all over for broken bones. He was lucky—I found none.
I noticed the man’s tattoo, some Aztec god. “You’re gonna be fine, old man. I’m a medic.”
He didn’t say a word but squeezed my hand. After he had a sip of water, and I cleaned and bandaged the wound on his leg, he finally spoke.
“Tlasohkamati. Thank you. You have a polished eye. Your woman looks like an angel.”
“Well we’ve had it pretty rough last few days. You may be able to repay us. Do you have food and water here?”
“Mi casa es su casa. But you’re going to have to help yourself.”
I kissed Cassie. I helped the old guy up and then I transferred him over to his mattress so he could rest. He said his name was Meztli. He told me the layout of the place; where he kept the food, the supplies, the well out back, the outhouse. I told him we’d take care of him.
My first stop was the well.
The cold water tasted so fresh and sweet. After I was hydrated, I got down to business. Still no reception on our phones. I needed to get in touch with my command and also see if my mom was okay. But for now, I just wanted to stare at this glorious sunset and drink some more water, with my angel by my side.
* * *
Meztli had recovered well enough to move around. But the best news was he had an extensive tool kit. After an hour of work, I was able to fix my satellite phone and check in with my command.
My command was fine. I had taken official leave after all and had asked for permission to come to Mexico, so I was in the clear. My buddy gave me the 411 on the quake: the epicenter had been in the desert very close to our location, and the quake registered at 7.2 on the Richter scale. There was extensive damage and casualties throughout the Baja region, but due to the ruralness of the area, the full impact of the quake was not known yet.
Of course, my buddies offered to sweep in on a helo and save us, but Meztli had an extensive supply of water and food and believed he could find the parts to fix my bike. So Cassie and I decided to take a day to rest and head to Cabo tomorrow.
We hadn’t been able to get hold of our parents. I tried to assure Cassie that they probably were also lacking reception, but Cassie was worried sick that they’d been stranded at sea, the result of an earthquake-related accident.
Cassie, Meztli, and I settled around the campfire. Some Aztec music consisting of flutes and drums played on a battery-operated tape deck. Meztli was dining on raw food, like our ancestors had. Paleo before it was trendy. I’d made some hash, smoked chicken, corn, and eggplant from his stock. I worried that Cassie would protest and refuse to eat the meat, but she must have known our bodies needed protein because she didn’t complain.
She excused herself to try the satellite phone again to call her dad. “So,” Meztli asked while he sipped his homemade blend of medicinal tea, “how long have you been together?”
“We’re not together. She’s my stepsister . . .well will be in a few days.”
Meztli gave out a hearty laugh. “Stepsister? I see the way you look at her. Your heart has become white, her heart has become white.”
I took a sip of the tea he’d made me. Tasted like licorice. “Well, it’s complicated. We met before our parents did, but I don’t need a girlfriend. She’s cool, though.”
Meztli slapped my leg. “Listen, Huitzilopochtli, you scratch the jade, you tear apart the quetzal feather. She is worthy of honor.”
I finished my crappy t
ea. Needed a break from his new-age crap. “Thanks for dinner. I’m gonna check on Cass.”
My job pressures were different than from other men’s. It would never work with Cassie. I didn’t even know how to be in a relationship, and I had no examples to emulate. Fuck ‘em and leave them. On to the next. No worries about her cheating when I was thousands of miles away from her, unable to even call. No worries about not being around to protect her. Who would want to date me anyway? I was gone most of the year, and when I was home, I was training. Cassie deserved someone who could listen to her, share her interests, someone better than me.
Besides, she was about to be my stepsister. She’d claimed I was in denial about that, and maybe she was right. I sure didn’t want to think about it. Or face it. It was too fucked up.
Now was not the time to worry about our future. I rummaged through Meztli’s tools and started working on my bike.
Chapter 39—Cassie
A little later that evening, while Shane was tinkering with his motorcycle, I sat in Metzli’s hut with him and chatted a bit. He seemed remarkably revived for someone who had been injured in the earthquake, especially considering how old he was. But I noticed that despite his age, he had strong ropey muscles, proving, I guess, that if you use it, you don’t lose it.
Metzli spoke a combination of Nahuatl, Spanish and English. When he discovered how bad I was at his two primary languages, he lapsed into English for my sake. Shane was much better with Spanish than I was.
“Is it true, sir, that you are a whale-whisperer?” I couldn’t resist asking.
His wise old eyes gazed deeply into mine. ”What the whales say to each other is beyond my understanding. But sometimes they grace me with a song.”
“What do they sing to you?”
“They sing of friendship and fellowship and long journeys through waters cold and warm, turbulent and still. They sing of love and sorrow, loss and joy. Their songs are much like the songs of men. They sing of fear, for they notice changes in the seas that they do not understand. They dream of refuge, but the race of man has taken over the seas and they know not what to do.”
