by Victor Zugg
She thought about what Chet had said earlier about luck—about how Tiff seemed like the lucky type. Maybe so, with Duncan at least. She shivered with revulsion when she thought about how close he had come to getting what he wanted. But for whatever reason, luck or not, it didn’t happen.
Sam and Chet remained quiet as the buggy raced north. Tiff appreciated the lack of conversation. She glanced up occasionally and saw that Sam was able to keep the speedometer at around fifty. He pretty much maintained that speed even when he swerved around the occasional car or truck stalled in the roadway. Most were pulled off to the side and abandoned. Except for an infrequent walker, the road was deserted.
After nearly an hour of no talking, Tiff saw Chet glance back at her and then looked over at Sam. “How far have we gone?”
Sam looked down at the speedometer. “About forty miles. In another twenty miles, we’ll be in Georgia.”
“Maybe we should look for a place to stop?”
Sam pointed ahead. “Remember that time we hiked the Florida trail?”
Tiff knew of the Florida trail—Okeechobee to Pensacola. Tiff had wanted to do the whole thing but never got around to it. The whole idea of hiking, especially to Ohio, made her appreciate the buggy and the hard crowded space she occupied in its bed as they cruised down the road. Most of all she appreciated Sam and Chet.
“That was years ago,” Chet said.
“Yeah, but remember when the trail crossed 75 along the Suwannee River?”
“I do. I remember thinking we should stop along there to camp,” Chet said.
“That spot is up the road from here, not far. What do you say we camp there for tonight?”
Tiff saw Chet glance back at her. “Feel like stopping for the night, Tiff?”
Tiff raised her head and looked toward the sinking sun. “Yeah, sounds good.”
***
Sam steered the buggy across the bridge for the Suwannee River and then continued another hundred yards in order to get past the steel barrier on the side of the road. He slowed and turned off at the end of the barrier, made a U-turn to the right, and drove back to the bride along the grassy verge. Tiff sat up in her seat and faced forward.
For her benefit, Sam pointed ahead. “The trail runs along the river and passes under the bridge right at water’s edge. Actually under the bridge might be a good place to camp.”
Tiff shifted forward. “If people come along and need to stop for the night that’s where they would go.”
Sam glanced at her. “Good thinking. I know of another spot.”
Sam turned under the bridge, half expecting to see people there. The spot was vacant. He drove on, creeping along at barely an idle, passing under the north and southbound lanes and into trees and thick brush on the west side of the interstate. About two hundred yards up, where the river made a bend to the right, Sam pulled to a stop in a clearing along the river. There was even a small beach of white sand that contrasted sharply with the dark water.
“We’re home,” Sam said with a smile, as he opened the door and stepped out. “We have plenty of room for the tents and we’re out of sight from the bridge.”
Chet and Tiff hopped out and immediately walked up to the water’s edge.
“The first thing I need is a bath,” Tiff announced.
“I think we could all use a bath,” Chet added.
Sam joined them at the water. “Watch out for wildlife—there are plenty of snakes and alligators around here.”
“And the sooner the better,” Chet said, as he turned back to the buggy. “Mosquitoes will be out early along this water. And if you go into the thick of it, the bushes are loaded with ticks.”
All three began untying their packs and sifting through gear.
“Tiff, let me have your tent and I’ll set it up while you wash up,” Sam suggested.
Tiff handed Sam the nylon bag and then opened her pack.
Sam took the bag and walked to the other side of the buggy, away from the water. He opened the bag and pulled out the contents.
Chet joined him with a similar bag and began setting up a second tent. “This will be plenty big enough for the both of us,” Chet said, as he unfolded his tent.
Sam nodded as he continued with Tiff’s tent. He could see Tiff rummaging through her gear near the water and saw her pull a change of clothes from her pack along with a small nylon bag, a camp pot, and a small piece of canvas. The last two items piqued his interest, but he turned his focus to setting up the tent.
“I decided to avoid the ticks so I’ll be right here,” Tiff said, loud enough for Sam and Chet to hear.
Sam and Chet both paused, looked at Tiff to see her beginning to strip, glanced at each other, and then resumed their work without saying a word. Ah hell, Sam thought, he might be an officer and a gentleman, but he wasn’t immune to the fact that Tiff had a body that would stop a truck. So he couldn’t help but glance in Tiff’s direction every few seconds.
Tiff stripped naked and carried her shorts, panties, and sports top into thigh-deep water. She began sloshing the clothes back and forth, washing them the best possible given the circumstances. After a few minutes of this, she wrung as much water out of the clothes as possible, walked back to the beach, and hung them on a dry branch at water’s edge. She then unfolded the canvas, which turned out to be about four square feet, and laid it on the sand, several feet from the water. She then obtained a bar of soap from her nylon bag, picked up the cook pot and waded calf-deep into the river. She filled the pot and poured the water over her head several times. She then filled the pot again and walked back up to the beach away from the water, put the pot on the ground, and began soaping up. Once well lathered, including her hair, she poured the pot of water slowly over her head to rinse. She walked to the river, filled the pot, and returned to her spot to continue rinsing. She did this several times until all the soap was rinsed from her body and hair. She then made a final trip to fill the pot and walked to the canvas where she rinsed the sand from her feet. Sam chuckled when he realized this was the slowest he and Chet had ever set up a tent—easily triple the time it would take if a naked woman wasn’t bathing in front of them.
Sam and Chet were about to slide the last tent pole into place when Tiff walked up wearing long tactical pants, fashionably tight, a dark green sports top, and her holstered XDs.
Chet greeted Tiff with a smile. “What was all the back and forth down by the water?”
Tiff smiled. “Something my Dad taught me. He believed it was bad for the environment to bathe with soap directly in a body of water. He taught me to soap up and rinse out of the water. The fish appreciate it.”
Chet glanced back at the river. “Never thought about it, but I guess you’re right.”
“Let me finish up here while you guys wash up,” Tiff said, as she reached for the tent pole.
“Deal,” Sam said. And both he and Chet turned toward the river.
They stripped naked and went through pretty much the same process as Tiff, including washing the clothes they had been wearing for the last two days.
Cleaned, dressed, and sporting their side arms they returned to the tents to find that Tiff had a pot of chili boiling over the fire.
Sam sniffed the air. “Smells good.”
“Hope you don’t mind, I went through both your food bags and found two cans of chili. Thought we could have that and the bagels you found.”
“Perfect,” Chet said, as he turned back to the buggy. He returned a second later with camp plates and three bottles of water.
“I thought a fire would be nice, plus it saves the gas for our stoves,” Tiff said. “And it will help keep the mosquitoes at bay.”
“The fire is a nice touch, thank you,” Sam said.
Tiff took the plates from Chet. “I normally try to eat organic, heavy on fruits and vegetables, but this is better than starving.”
While Tiff dished out the chili Sam brought out a 5X8 foot piece of tarp and spread it on the ground in front of
the tents. They sat on the tarp to eat.
Sam took a couple of bites and paused. “About today—“
Tiff cut him off. “No need to talk about it. It happened, shithead got what he deserved, and that’s that. I’m ready to move on. Duncan was not able to do to me what he had in mind. I’m fine.”
Sam continued, “What I was going to say—you saved our bacon today. Had you not been there, Duncan would have shot us,” nodding at Chet, “and our time here would have come to an end. Thank you.”
Chet, with his mouth full, nodded. “Ditto.”
Tiff put her spoon down. “Actually, you guys did the saving. If you had not come for me my life would have been worse than death.”
Chet spoke up, “It’s just a good thing they stopped for the trailer. This is what I meant by luck. Survival is at least fifty percent luck.”
“Yeah, three gun battles in two days with no serious injuries—I’ll take luck over talent any day,” Tiff said. “By the way, where did you guys serve?”
Sam put his empty plate down next to his leg. “We both joined the military out of high school. I picked the air force, Chet here wanted to slosh through the mud. We caught the Gulf War, Afghanistan, and Iraq, but in radically different roles as you can imagine. What about you?”
“Afghanistan and Iraq. A tour each. That was enough for me.” Tiff looked at Chet. “I was lucky to survive. What about wives?
“Guilty,” Sam said. “Twice actually. Divorced the first one. Lost the second one ten years ago. Cancer.”
Chet slapped his neck. “Mosquitoes are out.”
“What about you?” Tiff asked Chet.
“Yeah, I was married once. Didn’t take. I guess I was gone too much. I heard she married an accountant.”
“Kids?”
“Nada,” Sam said, “Same with Chet. You?”
“Engaged once. Couple of boyfriends. Nothing serious. No kids.”
Chet slapped at another mosquito. “Engaged sounds kind of serious.”
“He showed his true nature just before we were to be married. I called it off.”
Sam got to his feet and picked up everyone’s plate and the empty chili pot. “I’ll wash these in the river and put the fire out before I turn in. I think we should be safe without a watch for tonight.”
Chet got to his feet and headed for the trees. “Little boy’s room.”
Tiff slid inside her tent and zipped the netting closed.
Sam scrubbed the pot, plates, and utensils with sand from the beach. He thought about Tiff’s reaction to the ordeal—actually, two ordeals. Kidnapped and on her way to being raped and probably killed twice in two days. She was either putting on a strong front or she really was a tough little cookie despite the nice packaging. Hopefully, things would level off and the rest of the trip would cruise along without further incident.
***
Shortly after daybreak Tiff awoke to the aroma of food cooking. She unzipped her tent, crawled out, and saw Chet hunched over a small frying pan and a camp stove. “What smells so good?”
Chet looked up while continuing to stir the contents of the pan. “Powdered eggs, the cheese left over from yesterday, and bagels. Egg and cheese sandwiches.”
Tiff heard the other tent being unzipped and saw Sam crawl out. “Smells good,” he said. “I’ll start tearing down these tents.”
Sam and Tiff had barely started on the tents when Chet called them to breakfast. All three sat on the tarp and ate.
“What’s the plan?” Chet asked, looking at Sam.
“Pack up, get back on the highway, and get through Valdosta as quickly as possible.”
Tiff emptied the last of a water bottle into her mouth. “How are we on water?”
Chet got up, started toward the river with the frying pan in hand, and peeked in the back of the buggy. “We still have four jugs of water plus whatever’s in your personal water bottles.”
Sam stood up. “I think we’re good for now. Filtering would take too long; I’d rather get on the road.”
Tiff nodded and then rolled up the tarp while Sam finished taking down and packing the tents. Chet returned from the river with a clean pan and packed it along with the stove. The three of them retrieved their now dry clothes and stuffed them in their respective packs which they reattached to the top of the buggy.
Chet stuck out his hand to Sam. “I’ll drive.”
Sam tossed the keys to Chet and then slid into the passenger’s seat. Tiff took her position in the back while Chet made a final scan of the camp area to ensure nothing was left behind. He then jumped into the buggy, started the engine, and pulled away.
Chet steered the buggy back through the trees, under the bridge, and made the left turn in the grass to parallel the bridge back to the northbound lanes. He accelerated when he reached the asphalt and fell into a steady pace at fifty miles per hour. A few miles up, stalled vehicles completely blocked the northbound lanes and Chet had to veer into the wide median. Except for an occasional lone walker, they passed no one.
“Welcome to Georgia!” Sam said, as they passed the state line.
Chet smiled. “The peach state is on my mind,” he added.
Tiff perked up. “Glad it’s not a rainy night.”
Sam and Chet did a slow look back at Tiff and frowned without a word.
Soon the Valdosta city limits sign came into view. “I was stationed here, twice, at Moody,” Sam said. “I enjoyed the small town atmosphere back then.”
Tiff shifted forward in her seat. “I’ve driven by a few times but never stopped.
Chet glanced back. “Add another drive-by; we’re not stopping.”
The number of stalled vehicles increased when they passed the Madison Highway exit, but there were no people around. The same was true for the airport exit. But as they approached the route 231 exit, a line of military Humvee’s and trucks, including a military ambulance, came into view. They were parked alongside the road just past the northbound ramp. Some were painted desert tan, and some were dark green.
Chet let off the gas a bit. “What do you think?”
Sam leaned forward in his seat. “I think we have come upon a military presence.”
Three men in desert BDU’s stepped onto the roadway and motioned for the buggy to pull over. All three wore side arms and one carried a rifle.
Sam glanced at Chet. “Better do what they say.”
CHAPTER 9
Chet came to a stop ten feet short of the three men. Sam opened his door and stepped out as two of the men walked up. The one with the rifle hung back. Chet and Tiff remained seated.
In an authoritative voice, one of the men said, “I’m Lieutenant Jensen. This is Sergeant Thompson, army guard. Need to see some ID.”
The lieutenant’s tone brought back memories of a time Sam missed. He cherished the time he spent in the air force and often wished he was still a member. Wearing the uniform meant being part of something big and important. Decisions could mean the difference between life and death. There was nothing like it on the outside.
Sam put his hands up to chin level, palms facing out. “We’re just passing through.”
“ID, sir,” Jensen said, with even more authority.
Sam dropped his hands and pulled out his wallet. From the wallet, he produced his military retired ID card and handed it to Jensen.
Jensen inspected the card and then looked up at Sam. “Major, US air force?”
“Retired,” Sam replied.
Jensen handed the card back to Sam. “Sorry, sir. Just being careful.”
“No harm done.”
Jensen looked at the buggy. “Who are your friends?”
“The driver is Sergeant Major Chet Stevens, army retired. In the back is Tiffany Conway, former US marine corps.”
Jensen nodded to Chet and Tiff and then looked back at Sam. “Where you headed?”
“Tennessee. I have a cabin up there. Plan to wait out this situation in the cabin.”
“Probably a smart mo
ve,” Jensen said.
Sam pointed to the convoy. “Where are you guys headed?”
Jensen jabbed his thumb back over his shoulder. “Be glad to let you speak to the captain.”
“I’d like that.”
“This way,” Jensen said, as he and Thompson turned to leave.
Sam motioned to Chet. “I’ll be right back.”
Chet nodded.
The soldier with the rifle stayed put.
Jensen and Thompson led Sam to the lead Hummer where a group of men in uniform stood. When Sam got closer, he could see that some were army, and some were air force. As he reached the group, three of the men standing with an army captain saluted, turned and walked away, leaving just the captain and an air force lieutenant. The captain was a little shorter than Sam; the lieutenant a hair taller. Both were in excellent physical shape with flat stomachs and broad shoulders.
Jensen saluted. “Sir, this is retired Major Sam Pratt, US air force. He’s traveling with two other former military on their way to Tennessee. Major Pratt here wanted to speak with you.”
“Thank you, lieutenant.”
Jensen and Thompson saluted again and then walked away.
The captain turned his attention to Sam, “I’m Captain Frank Jeffries, army guard. This is Lieutenant Tom Harvey, US air force. What can I do for you major?”
“I was hoping for an update on the situation. We’ll be driving around Atlanta on our way to the Knoxville area. Any word on what we can expect?”
“Well, what the president said has come to pass. Except for most military and some government facilities, the country is without power. And it’s expected to be that way for a couple of years at least. That’s a conservative estimate.”
