Looking down at her flat tummy between the suspenders, “Can’t say I would recommend the diet and workout program, but it damn sure works,” Sandy giggled.
“If I hadn’t lost weight, I wouldn’t have gotten pants. They didn’t have any in my original size,” Johnathan said, then looked over at stacked rolls of paracord. “What are you going to braid now?”
Shrugging, “Don’t know, but it takes your mind off things you don’t want it on,” Sandy answered as Mary walked over, putting her bow down.
“One more time. You’re sure those suppressors you put on the ARs won’t blow up?” Mary asked, sitting down. One thing Johnathan had wanted was just small folding chairs and they now had three. He was so sick and tired of sitting on the ground.
“Mary, those aren’t .22 suppressors, Doug transferred those over from his company to Sam. The suppressors on the 10/22s are AR suppressors. That’s why the 10/22s had big muzzle breaks,” Johnathan explained. “Now, the small ones on the pistols are .22s, but Doug talked a manufacturer into giving him a deal and then donated them to Sam.
Leaning back in her chair, “Just wanted to make sure,” Mary said. “You know you loaded up over a hundred pounds of freeze-dried food, right?”
“Yep,” Johnathan nodded, picking his notebook up. “We save the rice and beans.”
“Amen,” Sandy sighed in agreement.
Writing in a new notebook, Johnathan glanced up at Mary and then back down to the page. “Mary, did Bill tell you he wrote a note to the kids?” Johnathan asked.
Hearing that, Mary gave a jerk in shock and almost fell out of her chair. “No!” she gasped.
“He did in Nevada when I started hauling around this messenger bag,” Johnathan said as he continued writing. “The reason I mention it, is because I don’t want you to bite my head off when I said something about it after we get home.”
Taking a deep breath, Mary let most of it out and then looked down. “Only the kids?” she whispered.
“Don’t know,” Johnathan said, looking up and Mary jerked her head up to look at him. “I haven’t read them. Bill gave me a bunch of folded pages and said it was for the kids if he didn’t make it.”
“May I see them?” Mary asked. “I’m not reading what he wrote for the kids. I just want to see if he wrote something for me.”
“Of course, but please give them back. I gave my word,” Johnathan told her, grabbing his messenger bag. “You can give them to the kids, but he entrusted me to carry them.”
As Johnathan pulled out a large Ziploc bag, “Why didn’t he give them to me?” Mary asked.
“Because it would’ve made you think about what could happen,” Johnathan admitted, passing the bag over.
Taking the bag, “What did happen,” Mary corrected.
“Yes, but that’s why he gave them to me,” Johnathan told her.
Reaching out and squeezing Johnathan’s hand. “Did you give one to Bill?” Sandy asked.
“No,” Johnathan answered, and Sandy felt energy rush through her. “I carry mine in my messenger bag, and everyone knows to get it home.”
The energy turned numb, as the elation fell like a rock. “Oh,” Sandy said. Hearing Mary opening the bag, Sandy looked up.
When she saw Mary smile, Sandy felt joy for Mary. “He did,” Mary sobbed, but didn’t cry. Putting the folded pages back in the bag, Mary closed it. “Here,” she said, handing the bag back.
“You’re not going to read it?” Sandy asked.
Shaking her head, “No, he meant for me to read it when we got home,” Mary said with a smile. “Besides, I can wonder what he said and I’m not sad out here. It really feels like that will help.”
“We swapping horses?” Sandy asked. “My pack horse has barely carried any weight, but I don’t like the way he rides.”
“Up to you, but I’m swapping,” Johnathan said as he continued writing. “Who wants to go first?” Johnathan asked.
“I will,” Sandy said, and started reciting. Johnathan looked up and saw Mary was mouthing the words to the route with her.
When Sandy was done, Johnathan held up his hand. “Mary, I saw you mouthing word for word,” Johnathan grinned.
“But we have a topo for Kentucky now,” Mary said. “Two in fact, and we know to never mark them.”
Putting his notebook down, “And you only look at them if you absolutely have to, and never turn to the page the cabin is on,” Johnathan said. “Ladies, it’s very easy to take a map and look at it from the side to see where fingers have run across the pages. Or where a finger had stopped on a page,” he said glumly.
“Oh,” Mary said. “So, we should lose the Kentucky map?”
“Hell, no!” Johnathan snapped. “That was the main reason I stopped here. The rest of the stuff is great, but I wanted to have a topo map, in case we find a million stinkers in a valley blocking our route. Now, I can find another valley around them.”
Leaning over Johnathan, Sandy grabbed the Missouri topo book and reached into a small pocket above her thigh pocket, pulling out her new compass. Like her old clothes, the old compass had been tossed aside. Sandy hadn’t used it in weeks, relying only on the stars.
Holding her chair as she stood up, Mary moved over beside Sandy and sat down. With them going over the route, Johnathan put his notebook away. Moving over to the clothesline, Johnathan folded the washed clothes and packed his.
Grabbing the others, he put them on Mary and Sandy’s backpacks. Moving back, he found Sandy lighting the stove as Mary studied the route. Loading stuff in the duffel bags, Johnathan carried them over to the horses.
The mound of stuff they’d shed amazed him, but they’d still added more than they were leaving. The only thing the pack horses had been really carrying was food. Now, they were carrying ammo and lots of extras. Putting the duffel bags down, Johnathan chuckled.
Sandy pulled out a small black case that held fingernail and toenail clippers, a nail file, and other grooming items, and Johnathan and Mary reached for it. They had been using the knives to keep their nails trimmed, but since they didn’t have anything to sharpen the knives with, their nails were long and broken.
Holding up his hand with the back toward him, Johnathan smiled at his trimmed nails. “Don’t like claws,” he said, dropping his hand. “Now if I could only shave my damn face,” he grumbled, taking his cap off and brushing his hair back.
Putting on his cap, Johnathan put his tool belt on and checked his gear, then saddled his horse and pack horse. With his done, he moved to Mary’s and Sandy’s horses. Finally, he loaded up Bill’s horses. Checking the saddles and new gear, Johnathan looked at the arrows they were leaving.
As much as they wanted to, they couldn’t take six hundred arrows. It wasn’t the weight of the arrows. They just occupied too much space. But they were still taking three hundred.
Walking back to Sandy and Mary, Johnathan remembered grabbing another water filter and holding it like the Holy Grail. They had used the three filters for the one they’d grabbed in California and Johnathan had really started getting worried. If they hadn’t found a filter, he would have insisted on boiling the water after they’d filtered it, just to make sure.
Handing Johnathan a bowl of stroganoff, Sandy laughed when Johnathan held the bowl under his nose, inhaling deeply. “Yeah, we did the same thing,” Sandy admitted, holding out a cup of coffee. “We can fill the thermos again.”
Plopping down in his chair, Johnathan smiled contently. “I love the coffee breaks when we ride.”
They ate in silence, listening to the river and the dogs crunching their dog food. “You forgot the shower bag,” Sandy told Johnathan.
Looking over at the silver bag with a tube running out of it, “I think you would beat me, if we had left it,” Johnathan grinned, taking off his sunglasses and looking down, picking food out of his beard.
“No. I was packing it, then beating you,” Sandy corrected. Putting her bowl down, Sandy reached down for a small shaving bag and p
ulled out a pair of scissors. “Move your hands.”
Seeing the scissors, Johnathan sighed. “Please cut this shit away from my lips,” he begged. “I haven’t seen my lips in months.”
“I know,” Sandy chuckled, clipping the hair around Johnathan’s mouth. When she was done, Johnathan reached up to touch his exposed lips and sighed.
“Thought I had lost them,” he sighed, making them laugh.
“Want me to trim the beard?” Sandy asked, holding up the scissors.
“Maybe tomorrow,” Johnathan said, nodding toward the sun. “We need to pack up.”
“I have never worn a watch,” Mary admitted, holding up her left hand and showing them a watch she’d gotten last night. “But since this started, I’ve almost taken one from a stinker a dozen times.”
Packing the last of the stuff, Johnathan turned to them. “Shoot your ARs one time to hear the difference, then grab your 10/22 and make sure it’s sighted in. Then your 22/45 pistols,” Johnathan told them.
When they shot their ARs, they could tell a difference in the noise level with real suppressors but when they shot the 10/22s, they were amazed. “At least here, we got twenty-five round magazines,” Mary said, shoving her 10/22 in her rifle scabbard.
“With eleven magazines each, we can put a hurt on stinkers now,” Sandy added, pulling out her 22/45 pistol. When she pulled the trigger, she could tell a difference in the sound compared to the suppressors Johnathan and Bill had put together, but the real difference was the weight and the length.
“Aren’t you going to shoot yours?” Mary asked.
“I know how an AR handles with this suppressor and I shot my .22s while you two slept,” Johnathan told her, and noticed Sandy tying the bundle of arrows they had left. “What are you doing? We said we were leaving them.”
“Oh, I am,” Sandy said, tying another cord around the bundle. “One at a time, in a stinker’s head, from the back of our horses.”
“That’s a fabulous idea,” Johnathan laughed.
“I’ll say,” Mary said, checking the gear in her tool belt. “I’m so tired of climbing off my horse with this damn backpack just to grab an arrow, I could beat a stinker to death with my bow.”
“That’s three hundred times we won’t have to stop and get off,” Sandy said, tying the bundle to her pack horse.
Putting on his new gloves, Johnathan smiled. His old gloves only had the pinky and ring finger attached on each hand when he’d thrown them away. “Everyone ready?” he asked.
“Yep,” Sandy grunted, climbing up on her horse.
“Want me to lead?” Johnathan asked.
“Nah, I have arrows we need to get rid of and a new bow to use,” Sandy grinned, adjusting her sunglasses on her nose.
“I’ll take rear cover,” Mary said, tightening her gloves as she sat in the saddle.
Putting his foot in the stirrup, Johnathan grunted and climbed on his horse. Settling in his saddle, Johnathan tightened the backpack straps. “I’m ashamed I didn’t think of leaving the arrows one at a time,” he mumbled.
Seeing the others ready, Sandy kicked her horse. “Dan, heel up,” she called out as he sniffed at a tree. When Dan trotted over, Sandy looked back and saw Ann beside Mary’s horse.
With the soft grass, the horses’ hooves didn’t make a sound. The sun was just dipping below the horizon as they reentered the scout camp. Looking at the long camp houses, Sandy smiled and then looked out to a field that had a huge stone fire pit. “My baby boy had fun here,” Sandy mumbled, remembering Lance telling her about his trips.
Crossing the valley, almost at the same time, each person turned their ball cap around and took off their sunglasses. Reaching the trees at the base of the hill, Sandy guided her horse up the slope. When she reached the top, she looked back at the camp, then looked south and saw a large burnt home. “That’s where Sam lived,” Johnathan said, stopping beside her.
“You don’t think he was there, do you?” Sandy asked.
With a sorrowful face, Johnathan nodded. “I know he was. Sam starts stocking in March and stays here until the end of summer,” Johnathan told her.
Kicking her horse, Sandy crossed over the ridge and looked up, checking the sky again. Seeing only a few clouds, she looked around while adjusting her AR and bow that were hanging off her saddle horn. When Sandy led them out of the trees onto a dirt road, she guided her horse to the right.
When they reached the big highway, Sandy paused in the trees while looking each way and only saw a few stinkers, but they were all heading south. “Move to your right about a half a mile,” Johnathan said behind her.
Looking to her right, Sandy saw a dirt road passing under the four-lane highway. Keeping in the trees, Sandy moved south and rode onto the dirt road. Seeing a stinker under the bridge, she grabbed her bow and nocked an arrow.
Pulling it back, she sighted in on the back of the stinker’s head as it walked under the bridge. Releasing the arrow, Sandy chuckled when the stinker fell flat on its face. “Two hundred and ninety-nine before we have to get an arrow,” Sandy grinned.
Coming out the other side Sandy sped up, seeing it was open ground for several hundred yards. Glancing back, she saw Johnathan and Mary looking around and then a stinker flipped over the guardrail of the bridge. Falling head first like a dart, Sandy watched the stinker fold down like an accordion.
“And they took over the world,” Sandy snorted, turning back around. Hearing an engine in the distance, Sandy kicked her horse hard and the horse lunged forward, covering the last hundred yards to the trees in a gallop.
When she reached the trees, she pulled back and turned around to see Johnathan and Mary ride in to the trees. “I didn’t know why you took off at first,” Mary panted.
They all looked over the field they’d crossed to the highway. Shadowy forms were on the highway moving toward them and from the south, they heard the engine noise getting louder. All the stinkers heading for them stopped and turned south, moving back to the road. “I like the fact they are easily diverted,” Sandy said, looking south.
“Yeah, that is a great advantage for us,” Johnathan admitted, turning south with Mary. They could see headlights in the distance and Sandy shook her head.
“I heard it from that far away?!” Sandy gasped.
“No, sweetheart, you heard it a lot farther,” Johnathan said as the lights continued toward them. “That’s a semi and it’s hauling ass.”
The closer the lights got, the taller the vehicle seemed to get. “Don’t look at the lights,” Johnathan told them. “Look off to the side, so you don’t lose your night vision.”
When the semi was a mile away, they saw spotlights mounted on the roof aimed down at the road and a massive V-shaped plow. The shadowy forms of stinkers were sailing through the air as they met the plow.
Roaring past, they then noticed a line of big pickup trucks behind the semi and none of the trucks had headlights on. “Wonder what that’s about?” Mary asked.
“None of our business,” Johnathan replied as Sandy started off into the trees. “They were doing eighty easy, so that means they know the road, and that’s what I don’t like. They are moving around with engines, unafraid of being attacked.”
They rode through the woods and Sandy climbed off her horse, pulling out the bolt cutters Johnathan had found at the camp. Cutting the strands of barbed wire, Sandy started wondering how she could cut barbed wire from her horse. Climbing back on, Sandy moved into the next field.
“You know,” Mary blurted out behind them. “I’m almost to the point if I see people, I’ll just shoot their asses.”
“Mary,” Johnathan called over his shoulder. “If everyone thought that way, we would’ve died long ago. We’ve been spotted by four people that I know of, and they didn’t kill us. Lord only knows, how many we don’t know of that were hiding in houses we passed.”
Thinking on that for several minutes, when Sandy climbed off her horse to cut open another fence, Mary moved up beside
Johnathan. “Okay, how about anyone in a vehicle?” Mary offered.
“Now you’re being more reasonable, but I’m sure there are some in vehicles just trying to find a place to hole up. I’m of the mind, leave me alone and I’ll do the same. But if I can see they pose a threat, it’s time for them to take a dirt nap,” Johnathan told her as Sandy climbed back on her horse.
“Even when we get home?” Mary asked.
“No. There, if I even feel they are bad, I’ll kill them. When we get home, we aren’t running anymore,” Johnathan said.
“You got that shit right,” Sandy said, kicking her horse and guiding it through the fence. “I’m sick of barbed wire.”
Chapter 10
Cabin in Kentucky
Lilly was pulling her hair back in a ponytail when she walked downstairs and saw Lance brushing the ladybugs’ hair. Freezing on the stairs, Lilly looked at the pouty faces on the girls. “Lance, what the hell did you do to them?” Lilly demanded, jumping off the stairs and walking over.
“We want to meet the little girl, Jodi,” Allie pouted, looking up at Lilly with sad eyes.
“Oh, baby,” Lilly said, dropping down and wrapping her arms around Allie. “Maybe another day, but not today.”
“She doesn’t have anyone to talk to,” Carrie whined as Lance finished brushing her hair.
“Yes, she does,” Lance laughed, getting up. “Dwain is staying at Heath’s house and Heath has two kids, Denny and Lori.”
Last night, they’d escorted the bear trap group home and met the wives and Dwain’s little seven-year-old girl, Jodi. Lance didn’t want to, but Lilly told him it was nonnegotiable. After Lilly had looked at Lori’s dog and told her it was okay, then Lilly said they could go home.
“Lance, they are old, and I bet they are mean to her,” Allie predicted, stomping her foot.
Stopping, Lance turned around to say something but stopped. Turning back around, Lance headed into the kitchen. “Lance!” Ian shouted from the basement. “Come down!”
Lance took off running, as did Lilly with the ladybugs following. They found Ian sitting at the control desk with Jennifer. “What?” Lance asked, and Ian tapped the keyboard.
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