“Well, my dad, Sean, Jenna, and my cousins, Piper and Trent came out here first. I was in Colorado at school so I didn’t get here for a while.”
“Oh wow. Really? How’d you get from Colorado? Fly?”
“Maybe I should have…just worn a mask, but no, it was still very early and things were almost normal. My dad thought I could drive with no problem.”
“And…did you?”
One of Hunter’s poles twitched and he reached for it, but whatever it was didn’t hit the bait again and he relaxed. “Yeah, but things all went to shit pretty quickly. I ended up out of gas in the middle of nowhere and had to camp out near a farm. That’s where I found Buddy and the horses. The poor dog was still hanging out by his home but the people who’d lived there were already dead.”
Mike shook his head. “That’s rough. He’s a good dog—at least from what I’ve seen.”
Hunter nodded. “And then I met Sophie.” He opened his mouth to tell the story of Sophie’s run in with the men who had taken her, but instead, he just shrugged. “We made our way back here. By then, I think most people had died, but I kept my mask on any time I wasn’t out in an open field or something. I had Sophie do the same, so that’s how we made it without getting sick.”
“That’s a helluva story. A lot more exciting than mine, for sure. I survived out of pure, dumb, luck. The other guys were planning on spending a week or so up at Steve’s cabin to fish, but I was only going for the weekend. I had a job to start Tuesday morning, so I was going to drive home that Monday, only I was so hung-over from the night before, I decided to wait until my headache went away.”
“And it never did?” Hunter chuckled. Saved by a hangover.
Mike may have grinned, but he wore the mask Jenna had given him so Hunter couldn’t know for sure, but his eyes crinkled. “No, it went away about lunch time, but I wanted to send a message to my boss just in case I was late getting back. The only problem was we barely got cellphone service up there, but surprisingly, the best spot was in the middle of the lake. Since I was out there, I didn’t want to pass up the opportunity to fish just one more time.”
If Mike had been smiling, it must have faded because his voice dropped low and Hunter had to strain to hear him as he said, “The response I got back was from his wife. My boss had passed away that Sunday evening. While I’d been getting shit-faced drunk, he’d died.”
Hunter opened his mouth to offer condolences, but Mike went on, “She told me that things were going crazy and I should stay where I was.” He drew a deep breath. “So I stayed and told the others. A couple of guys left anyway, but the rest of us stayed on. Steve had good amount of supplies because he’d bought staples for most of the summer and I’m grateful that he shared it with us. I wouldn’t have survived without him. None of us in our group would have. Late summer, a couple of the guys ventured into town and cleaned out what was left of the store, gas station, and all of the homes nearby. I wasn’t with them. I stayed back to protect the cabin. Steve worried someone might come by and try to steal what little we had, but nobody ever did.”
There was another tug on Hunter’s line but whatever it was had just toyed with the bait. He relaxed and thought about waiting for thieves who never showed because they were all dead. “That’s both good news and incredibly depressing at the same time.”
“I know, right?” Mike’s pole tipped and for a few minutes the only talk related to landing the fish. Hunter had to open the hole a bit wider to accommodate the good-sized walleye. “Mmm…these are good eating.”
Hunter agreed.
After the fish was safely tucked away in the cooler Mike sat on, they resumed their conversation. “I was in the Army and did a couple of tours in Iraq. I’m pretty comfortable handling a weapon.”
Mike didn’t say anything else about either Iraq or guarding the cabin but seemed lost in thought so Hunter concentrated on his fishing. He caught a small perch that in normal times he’d have tossed back, but these days, every fish counted so he tossed it in the cooler.
“How did you cut your hand?”
“Stupid mistake on my part. I—”
One of Hunter’s fishing poles jerked and he leapt for it. “Whoa!” The pole bent—the line taut as the fish fought to escape. Hunter played out the line, worried the pole or line would snap. Whatever he’d caught, it was big. Would he even be able to haul it through the six-inch hole he’d made? As the pole jerked again, he put that out of his mind—first he had to get the fish to the hole—then worry about landing it.
“Oh man! You probably got a big salmon on there!” Mike set his pole down and stepped over.
There was no warning crack. Just one second Hunter stood over the hole he’d created fighting to land the fish, and the next, the ice gave way and he plunged into the frigid lake.
Chapter Seven
Elly lifted dirty clothes from the hot soapy water, gripping material in each hand and rubbed the fabric together. As she vented her anger and frustration on the denim and flannel clenched in her fists, she considered the risk of infection from the virus. In the past, pandemics flared up for a few years, then went dormant. This had been much faster moving than any pandemic ever recorded, though, and without a doubt, the most deadly. Would that have any bearing on whether it would continue to circulate? Were there enough people left for the virus to replicated and spread effectively?
She hated doing laundry and had always hated it, and now the hate had reached a new level. What she wouldn’t give for a washer and dryer right now. With a toss of her head, she blew a few strands of hair from her eyes.
The only good thing about doing laundry by hand was it allowed her to vent. With a wry chuckle, she tossed the clothes back into the basket of clothing awaiting a return to the huge vat of nearly boiling water simmering outside over a bonfire. They would soak for a bit, then they’d be wrung out via a couple of institutional sized mop buckets Cole had found in the kitchen of a restaurant he’d scavenged for food.
After a rinse and a second time in the wringer, they would be hung to dry in the living room. Hooks had been screwed into the walls and a clothesline with loops at each end to fit over the hooks was stretched across the room. There were three sets of hooks, and with so many people, every inch was filled, even though all of them wore clothing more than one day. She thought of all of the times she had worn a shirt for a few hours and then tossed it in the hamper without a thought. Now, she thought nothing of wearing the same jeans all week long. They had plenty of clothing, but washing it was a ton of work, so they got used to clothes that didn’t smell daisy fresh.
Not only did the chore take most of the day, it used a lot of wood for the fire for heating the water and afterward to dry the clothes. The house had to be warm for the clothes to dry quickly. On the plus side, there was the benefit of adding moisture to the very dry air.
“Is this basket ready to hang?” Piper came out and pointed to a basket of jeans that had already been through the wringer.
“Yeah. I still have towels and sheets to do, then we’re done.”
Piper examined her reddened hands. “Thank God. I’m getting chapped.”
“Why didn’t you wear your rubber gloves?” Elly dropped sweatshirt of Cole’s into the wringer and pulled the handle. There was something satisfying about seeing the dirty water squeezed from the material. She removed the item and tossed it into the rinse water.
“I hate wearing them.”
Elly started to chide her, thinking it was youthful vanity to not be caught wearing unstylish thick yellow gloves. After all, Jake always seemed to find a reason to be near the pretty young woman, but Piper shrugged. “I can’t help seeing Uncle Cole wearing gloves like them when he went out to where Trent was in isolation, after he...” She bit her lip and didn’t finish the sentence.
“Oh, hon. You saw him?” She hadn’t arrived on the island yet, but Cole had told her how hard it had been, emotionally, to retrieve his nephew’s body and safely remove it for burial.
“I didn’t mean to. I just wanted to…I don’t know…I guess to just get one last look at my brother. Uncle Cole had said that it wasn’t safe to go near the body, but I thought maybe I could see something when he opened the doors. I couldn’t see anything, but I saw Cole’s reaction and for some reason, the gloves just stuck in my mind.”
“I’m sorry. Memories are crazy like that.”
Cole grabbed his jacket. The first whisper of spring warmth beckoned him outside and he couldn’t resist the call. With his standoff with Elly weighing on his mind, his concentration was shot anyway. Icicles hung from the eaves and dripped onto the deck. While barely above freezing, it felt warmer due to the bright sunshine and lack of wind. He took a deep breath and spotted Hunter and Mike out on the ice in the bay. Hunter had said he was going fishing to try to bring in something fresh to eat. He wondered if he’d caught anything and decided to join them. He hurried to open the door for Piper as she approached with a full basket of steaming clothes in her hands. “Let me get the door. Need some help?”
“Nope. I’m fine. Elly might need a hand though.”
Cole zipped his coat and pulled on his gloves then joined Elly. “I’m sorry about earlier.”
Elly shook her head. “You don’t have to be. I’ve been thinking—”
“Help!”
The voice carried faintly over the ice, but Cole was already two steps towards the ice before he pinpointed the source of the cry. Only moments before Cole had noticed Hunter and Mike fishing, their forms were dark against the white backdrop, now they were gone and all he could see was a dark lump lying prone on the surface. “What the hell…”
Elly was at his side and gave a gasp. “I think someone fell through!”
“Get Sean and Jake!” Cole burst into a sprint, his speed hindered by the piles of hard, grainy snow, slick where it had melted on top. As he passed the fish cleaning shed, he remembered rope hanging inside, stored there over the winter. He made a quick detour and grabbed it. The distance of a few hundred yards seemed as vast as the expanse of Antarctica as Cole raced, slipping and sliding over the ice.
It was Mike who lay on the ice and Cole’s heart almost stopped. “Where’s Hunter?”
“I’m…here…Dad.” Hunter answered, his head bobbing in the water as he tread water. Mike lay almost spread-eagled face down on the ice, one hand braced out from his body as the other seemed tangled in Hunter’s coat.
Cole’s knees almost buckled from relief. There was still time, but only if they moved quickly. While the air was just above freezing, hypothermia would set in within a matter of minutes in water this cold. He circled to the other side of the hole, testing the ice before getting too close. He couldn’t rescue his son if he became a victim as well. When he was as close as he dared, he tossed an end of the rope close to Hunter. “Grab the rope!”
Hunter reached for it, but ended up pushing the rope away. If he’d been wearing gloves, they weren’t on him now and his movements were clumsy. Cole gathered the rope again, and tossed it even closer. This time, Hunter snagged it.
“Okay, Hunter, wrap your arm up in it good, and I’ll bring you to my side. When you get to the edge, try to kick your legs to get horizontal on the edge. Got it?” Hunter said something that sounded like yeah, but his teeth chattered so hard, Cole couldn’t be certain.
When Hunter was ready, Cole said, “Mike, you can let go.” It was the hardest sentence he’d ever uttered in his life, but circling to bring him over to Mike’s side to allow the other man to hang on too could put too much stress on the ice there. He spotted a web of cracks and fissures on that side and worried Mike would also fall in also.
Sean and Jake hollered that they were on the way, although Cole wasn’t sure what they could do.
Hunter followed Cole’s directions as Cole kept the line taut and moved back. Hunter had his chest up on the ice when that piece broke off too. “Damn it!” The sharp tug on the rope bit into his forearm where he’d wrapped it, but he barely noticed.
Mike moved to Hunter’s left, and lying flat, he reached out, grabbing Hunter’s left arm. “Cole, this time, I’ll lift while you pull.”
Hunter still kicked as Cole had instructed, but the kicks were weaker. The cold was taking a toll. Cole set his jaw and hauled back just as Sean and Jake reached them. Cole’s boots slipped on the ice and he started skidding, with Hunter backsliding. Then Sean’s arms locked around Cole’s waist started pulling him back. Mike lifted and Hunter was on the ice. They continued to move back until he was safely away from the edge. Jake had moved around to Mike’s side, and grabbed the man’s feet and hauled him away from the edge too. It was then Cole noticed how wet Mike was. His coat had soaked up the water while he’d been on the ice holding Hunter’s jacket.
Cole kneeled beside Hunter and unzipped his son’s coat. “We have to get you out of these wet clothes.”
Hunter sat up, nodding as he tried to shrug the jacket off. Cole unzipped his own coat and put it on his son just as Elly and Jenna reached them, each carrying several blankets.
“Can you walk?” Cole hardly felt the cold as the exertion had him sweating.
Hunter nodded and between Jake and Cole, they had him on his feet, although he shook so hard, he couldn’t take a step.
“Stand back a second, Cole.” Jenna draped a blanket over Hunter’s shoulders, pulling it up to cover his head as well, leaving only his face showing.
Elly had gone to Mike, wrapping him in a blanket as well. “Are you okay?”
Mike nodded, clutching the blanket. “I tried to get him out, but I couldn’t grip him tight enough to haul him up onto the ice.”
“Oh no. Did you break your stitches?” Jenna moved from Hunter’s side to Mike’s but he had the hand tucked beneath the blanket. “I’ll check it out when we’re back at the house.”
Sophie is probably going crazy right now. I had her and Piper stay and heat up water. It’s a good thing we have a big fire going already for the wash.”
Sean helped Mike, as Cole and Jake each took one of Hunter’s elbows and helped him back to the island. Halfway there, Cole shivered hard, the heat from the exertion gone.
“Here you go, Cole.”
He turned as a blanket draped over his shoulders. Elly straightened a fold and smiled at him. “Better?”
“Much. Thank you.”
Jenna tucked a quilt around Hunter and he tried to thank her but his jaw was too tight. It felt frozen in a clench he couldn’t relax.
He sat on a recliner his dad had pulled near to the stove before he’d rushed out to get more wood. Hunter huddled into several layers of quilts, a mug of hot chocolate clutched close to his chest, and Buddy sitting with his head resting in Hunter’s lap. Every time Hunter looked at him, the dog’s tail thumped against the floor and his whole body wriggled. The poor dog had been stuck in the house and had been barking like crazy until Hunter had stumbled in. Buddy hadn’t left his side since. Hunter took a careful sip between shivers. The last thing he wanted to do was spill the precious contents of the mug. “Where did you get this?” He thought all they had left to drink was water or a watery coffee, tea, and mint mixture.
Jenna glanced around as if checking for anyone listening, then smiled with a hint of sadness. “I’ve had a canister of the powdered mix in my room. It was something I grabbed at the last minute when we were leaving our home. The kids, but especially Trent, always loved that stuff. I know it’s not real hot chocolate—just the powdered stuff, but your cousin sure did love it.”
Hunter nodded. “I remember Trent always asking for it on Christmas Eve.”
His aunt bit her lip and busied herself with wiping up a few specks of the powder on the table. She blinked hard a few times before smiling at Hunter. “He sure did. At our house, Santa didn’t get milk and cookies. He got hot chocolate and donuts. Trent figured Santa needed something warm, and donuts were a little different than cookies. He always wanted to be a bit different.”
His dad enter
ed with yet another armload of wood as the rest of the men followed him,also laden with enough wood to last for days. “Jenna, could you check out Mike’s hand?”
Mike, almost as wet as Hunter, had changed clothes at his cabin and had returned sans mask and Hunter looked at his dad and mouthed the word. His dad shook his head. “It’s been long enough. Elly and I discussed it and while we were going to wait one more day, that was just out of an abundance of caution. We’re as certain as we can be that they’re safe now.”
Jenna dragged a rocking chair from the living room, shoved it close to the stove, and patted the back of it. “Have a seat, Mike. You can get warm while I look at your hand.”
Mike protested. “It’s fine. You were gonna take the stitches out tomorrow anyway.”
“True, but we might need to throw a little tape on it and butterfly the wound to keep it closed while it finishes healing.”
It seemed he was about to protest even that until Jenna pressed a mug into his hands. “Drink this first before I re-dress your hand.” Then Mike grinned.
After depositing his wood in the bin, his dad looked at Hunter and sighed. “I guess this means no more fishing until the ice melts completely. It also means it’s time to return the vehicles to the mainland. And also get the horses back there before they’re stuck here when the ice melts.”
Steve had met them coming off the ice and had contributed an armload of wood. He leaned against the kitchen counter, nodding. “I told Mike we should be heading back to the mainland soon. It might harden again, but no guarantees.”
“But what about the horses?” Sophie brought another blanket from somewhere in the house and tucked it around Hunter’s feet and looked up at him. “Getting warm?”
He nodded. As he warmed, fatigue threatened to overwhelm him but he struggled to keep his eyes opened. He wanted to hear this conversation.
Invasion: A Post-Apocalyptic Survival Novel (Sympatico Syndrome Book 3) Page 6
