Torn Apart (Book 2): Dead Texas Roads

by Hoaks, C. A.

  Harry looked over Liz’s shoulder. “I’ll find something to wrap his ribs.” He disappeared into the back of the camper, returning with a sheet in hand. After a few swipes of a knife, he began tearing six-inch strips of fabric.

  “I'll be all right,” John commented through clenched teeth.

  “When we get that rib stabilized, I think you’ll feel better,” Liz agreed. “Sorry, we only have Tylenol.”

  Harry brought soap and a bowl of water. Liz carefully cleaned the abraded flesh, then dried the area and gently smeared on antibiotic ointment. When she was finished, she gave John the end of a fabric strip to hod against his chest, then wrapped around his chest and the broken rib again and again. When Liz reached the end, she grabbed another piece and wrapped again. After the third piece had added to the binding, she glanced around for a way to secure the wrapping and heard a ripping sound. She turned to Harry and accepted a strip of duct tape with a tilt of her head.

  “What?” Harry pulled the second strip of silver tape from the roll, handed it to Liz and grinned. “Duct tape has a million uses.”

  Liz smiled and anchored the binding, then pressed several more strips on John’s rib to add more support.

  “Well?” She asked. “Is it any better?”

  “I think so.” John huffed. He got to his feet with Harry and Liz’s help. He made his way into the bathroom to clean up. A few minutes later, he reappeared still wiping at his face with a towel. “I’m gonna lay down for a while.”

  Liz followed him into the back bedroom and opened windows on either side of the bed. A gentle breeze began to dissipate the heat that had built up during the day. She disappeared for a minute and returned with a glass of water and two white pills. “I’m closing the door, so you can rest.” John nodded, and she continued. “I’ll bring you something to eat in a few minutes.”

  Liz stopped at the restroom to wash her hands and used the water sparingly since she wasn’t sure how long they would have to stay put with John’s injury. She walked out of the bathroom to see Harry riffling through the supplies.

  “I put the food in the kitchen and the bottled water on the cabinet by the door,” Harry announced. “We got some soups, but most is snack foods.”

  Liz walked to the bag, opened it and pulled out the content. She found beef jerky, pasta and soup cups, dried fruits, crackers and cheese, and boxes of candies and chips. After the perusal, she opened a cup of dried soup, added bottled water, then used the microwave to warm it. She used a box lid as a tray and carried the soup with crackers, and a bottle of water back to John. He ate quickly then lay back too exhausted to keep his eyes open. Liz picked up the remains and left the bottle of pain pills and a second water bottle next to the bed before leaving. She closed the door and walked to the front of the camper.

  “How is he? Harry asked as he finished a cup of soup.

  Liz shrugged. “He ate. I think that’s good.”

  When Harry finished cleaning up, he walked to the front of the camper to stand at the window and pealed back the corner of the plastic to study the parking lot. “Looks quiet,” he commented over his shoulder.

  “Do you think they’ll find us?” Liz whispered as she made her own cup of soup.

  Harry pressed the tape back into place. He shrugged as he settled at the table. “Hopefully, they’ll give up. They wanted what we had. They have it now. No reason to keep chasing us. At least, I hope.”

  “I’m not really sleepy. Why don’t you try to rest? Use one of the bunk beds. I’ll keep watch and wake you around two.” Liz said.

  “That works. John needs to stay as still as possible for a few days to give his ribs a chance to heal.”

  “What about you?” Liz asked. “Your ankle?”

  Harry glanced down at his boot and stuck his foot out from under the table. He leaned down to pul off his boot. He groaned in relief. “It’ll be okay if we can stay put for a few days.” He reached into a bag of dried fruit Liz had opened. He tossed a handful into his mouth and chewed. After a full minute of chewing, he took a gulp of water and scowled. “This stuff tastes like shit. I wish we had some beer.”

  “It’s good for you,” Liz commented. “Enjoy it while I get cleaned up.” She walked back to the bathroom and filled the sink with a couple inches of tipid water. She used a wash cloth and cleaned up as much as the limited water would allow.

  When she reappeared, Harry grinned. “You smell better.”

  Liz laughed. “You don’t. Get cleaned up and try to rest. I’ll wake you up later.”

  Harry settled on the narrow bunk outside the back bedroom and within minutes was snoring. Liz woke him around two, and she made her way down the darkened hall to climb to the top bunk. The next morning Liz woke when a shaft of sunlight invaded the camper from the edge of the plastic. She looked around the narrow bed and sighed. She hadn’t slept in a bed, since leaving Benny and Hazel’s farm. She curled up under the sheet and tried to recapture the dream of her husband and children, but it was lost. All that was left was the stifling heat of the sun beating down on the camper.

  “May as well get up,” Harry called from the dining room. He limped to the small table and sat down. “I think John looks a little better.”

  Liz found a package of animal cookies and bottle of fake juice from the supplies and began eating. “How’s your ankle?”

  “Not great, but if I can stay off it a couple more days, I'll be all right,” Harry answered.

  “Hmmm. Well, let’s hope we don’t have to run again anytime soon,” Liz replied as she handed Harry a bottle of juice.

  He took a big gulp, then flexed his ankle. He winced and frowned. “I was looking at the navigation on the dash. The parking lot backs up to a country road that heads west. I think we could take it to state road 54, then to 180 and head north. That should get us to the Guadalupe National Park area. Then it’s up to you.”

  “We can’t just leave my daughters,” Liz protested.

  “And where do you think we should look for them?”

  “I….” Liz looked at her clutched hands on the table.

  “The girls are in God’s hands. Your son is in ours. We’re continuing to your dad’s place.”

  The third morning they woke to the sound of breaking glass in the distance. Harry had nodded off near dawn while John and Liz were sleeping. John lumbered from the back bedroom rubbing at the stubble on his chin. “Did I hear something?”

  “Fucking getting old. I fell asleep,” Harry groused as he peeked out of the plastic.

  Liz slipped her feet into her boots. “What is it?” She pulled the laces on her boots tight and made a quick bow in each.

  “What are we doing here?” John asked. “What’s happening?”

  “Wait,” Harry answered. “Maybe it’s just a lone scavenger looking in the office. That’s why I wanted to leave it as undisturbed as possible. Didn’t want anyone to think there was anything worth breaking in for.” He looked toward the gate. “They busted the lock on the gate. Fuck.”

  John responded. “It might have backfired. Most offices have at least a vending machine or two and a kitchen.” He moved the edge of the plastic aside, then let it drop. “I’m going to get a better look. Be ready to take off.”

  John adjusted the handgun at his side and grabbed his knife. He opened the camper door and stepped outside, then turned and gently closed it. He walked to the back of the row of campers and disappeared.

  Harry nodded at the back fence. “I’m going to cut the fence. Get the plastic down so you can see to drive, but wait to get behind the wheel. For now, stay out of sight.”

  Liz nodded and quickly stowed a few supplies in the cabinets and behind rails along the shelves. She slowly cleared the windows around the front of the camper and waited.

  Harry jogged to the back of the camper and crossed the twenty feet of asphalt to the fence. He crouched low and made his way to the center of the fencing between two posts and took out the wire cutter. He began at the bottom, cutting ea
ch of the wire loops. The sound of the wire snapping seemed to echo across the yard like a gunshot. He cut two or three wires, then glanced over his shoulder. When no one appeared to investigate, he resumed cutting.

  When Harry glanced toward the camper, he could see Liz slowly open the screens and ready the camper to leave. He clipped half a dozen more wire loops and heard more glass break, then a terrified scream. Harry finished cutting the fence, then ran back to the camper and reached inside to grab his machete.

  “Stay put. Get behind the wheel and duck down. If you see us running, crank this bitch and get ready to get the hell out of here.”

  Harry jogged after John, looking between campers for his friend. He rounded a camper parked thirty feet from the office just in time to see John enter the building.

  Chapter 30

  The Future

  Zack pulled into the small yard in front of the hunter’s cabin. He turned off the engine, and the six travelers sat quietly in the fading light studying the cabin. The simple structure was unpainted wood, dulled into shades of gray by years of sun and rain. A porch stretched across the front and protected a sturdy wood door flanked on either side by darkened windows. The corrugated tin roof showed signs of rust, but no visible holes.

  Millie leaned forward. “Don’t y'all suppose we’d better get settled in before dark?”

  “Let’s check it out, Zack,” Steve answered with a deep sigh.

  The two men got out of the truck, Zack carrying a crowbar and Steve his handgun. They crossed the small, packed-earth driveway to the front porch. Oak leaves danced across the faded planks of the covered porch. The weathered wood door had a gate latch with a padlock for security. The windows at the front of the cabin were dusty but intact.

  “Someone’s hunting camp. If we’re lucky, there’s a cistern or water well,” Steve whispered as they each crossed the porch to a window.

  He pointed to the window closest Zack, then two fingers to his eyes. He turned to the second window and leaned over the edge of the window and peeked inside. The waning light exposed the minimalistic furnishings inside.

  Zack watched and repeated at the window on the left side of the door. “Nothing here,” he whispered.

  “Stay here,” Steve mouthed.

  Steve stepped off the porch and stumbled to the ground then around the side of the building. He followed the solid wall to the back of the structure. Looking through the back windows, he realized the structure was a single room with a ladder access to a loft overhead. The back of the cabin included barn doors on an overhead track. He made his way around the corner and a massive stack of firewood at the side of the house. He stepped back up to the porch with Zack.

  “Anything?” Zack asked.

  “Looks good. Let’s get inside. It’s almost dark.”

  Zack picked up the padlock and shoved the crowbar through the hasp. With a snap of his wrist, the lock popped open. He pulled the lock off the door and laid it on a window sill.

  Steve opened the door, leading with his gun. He snapped on a light and fanned the beam of light and his weapon from left to right and then back again as he studied the shadows inside. The building was set up with a sink, a few cabinets, and a table at one end. The rest seemed devoted to providing sleeping quarters, with two bunk beds, and a couple more twin beds overhead in the loft, from what he could see.

  “Let’s move ‘em in,” Steve stated as he stowed the weapon in his waistband. He gave a wave to the women, and they climbed out of the truck, each taking an armful of supplies.

  Zack went to the truck, while Steve lit a kerosene lamp on the table. He limped to the sink and examined a hand pump at the edge of an enamel sink with a hole in the middle. He pumped the handle a few time and rusty water spilled from the spout. After a few more pumps of the handle, the water flowed clear and clean. He dipped his hand in the stream and brought it to his nose. It smelled fresh.

  Zack and the women walked into the cabin. Millie released Penny’s hand and crossed to the sink when she saw Steve leaning against the sink. “Young man, you need to sit down.”

  “I’m fi….” Steve wiped his arm across his forehead.

  Millie interrupted. “Young man, I’m not suggesting. I’m telling.” Millie looked under the sink and found a pan. She pushed Steve toward the chair and filled the pan with water, then looked in drawers until she found a dishtowel. When she turned back, she glanced at Penny. “Child, tell that boy to bring us that chair on wheels.”

  With another glare from Millie, Steve settled on a chair at the table. Millie nodded toward the prosthetics and Steve removed the right leg, then the left. Both silicone cuffs were smeared with blood inside when he pulled them from his stumps.

  Della came in carrying an armful of supplies. She saw Steve’s ulcerated legs and gasped. “I told you. How could you let it get this bad?” She set the supplies on the counter, crossed the room to press the back of her hand against Steve’s forehead. “You’re running a fever.”

  Steve shrugged. “I didn’t see I had much choice.”

  “Well, we do now. We stay put until you’re healed,” Della announced.

  Millie sat the pan of water on the table and another pan on the floor at the front of the chair. She soaked the rag and dribbled water over the angry red flesh. Steve blanched at the shock of ice cold water against the wound. After the first couple passes of cold water over the angry red flesh, the pain lessened and grew numb. Steve sighed in relief. Millie looked up when Della walked in the cabin with another armful of supplies. “You got medicine for this?” she asked.

  “Yes, ma’am,” Della answered.

  Penny came in with Zack carrying the wheelchair. He looked at Steve’s legs and cringed. “Man, that looks painful.”

  “A day or two and it’ll be fine,” Steve began, but Della interrupted.

  “NO! It’ll take at least a couple weeks.”

  “Mommy? I really gotta go to the bathroom,” Penny announced.

  Darlene looked around the room, then to Steve.

  He grinned. “There’s an outhouse in back. We got running water, though.”

  “Running water is nice to hear, but an outhouse?” Darlene groaned. “Gross.”

  Zack laughed. “I saw it out back. It’s close to the shed. I thought I’d make sure no rats were inside, but I’ll show you, now.”

  They walked to the sliding barn doors, unlatched one door and slid it open. Zack pulled a LED light from his pocket. He led Darlene and Penny through the back door out into the fading light.

  “When we get everything inside, let’s keep the lights low until we can cover the front windows and close the door. I don’t want to advertise we’re here,” Steve announced.

  Della placed a tube of ointment on the table with two rolls of gauze. “We have what we need inside. I’ll cover the windows.”

  Two hours later, Millie had schooled Zack on starting a fire in the wood stove in the kitchen. They found kindling in a bucket at the side of the stove and brought in wood from the side of the cabin. She pulled a pot from a cabinet and dumped an assortment of canned vegetables from their supplies into the pot and added a can of diced chicken. She made a thick flour based gravy and covered the mixture. When she was finished, she added flour, salt, a couple tablespoons of shortening and water together. Millie finished by cooking the flat Mexican bread on the top of the stove.

  The remains of the day slipped into the night as the small gathering sat around the cabin eating bowls of Millie’s concoction with tortillas.

  “Do you think we’re safe here?” Darlene asked.

  “Safer than we’ve been since we left San Antonio,” Steve answered. “I can you take first watch, Zack?” He rolled the chair to one of the windows. “I’ll wake you at midnight.”

  “No problem,” Zack answered.

  “When we turnout the light we can open the windows,” Steve added.

  Della helped Millie settle on one of the lower bunks while Zack pulled a mattress down and laid it near o
ne of the windows to catch the evening breeze. Della, Darlene, and Penny made their way to the loft. After everyone settled Steve and Della opened windows, and a faint breeze wafted through the cabin. The cabin filled with the sounds of crickets and night creatures. A distant howel let them all know they were not alone.

  Within a short time, Steve could hear both Millie and Zack snoring. The warmth of the cabin was stifling. Steve opened the front door and rolled the wheelchair outside. He pulled the handgun from under his leg and rested it on his lap. Just moving his leg caused a flash of pain. He wiped t the moisture on his face and tried to enjoy the quiet and night breeze. He looked out over the valley beyond and realized how high on the bluff they had driven up. He could see a few lights and wondered if they were fires or people running generators.

  A little before midnight, Zack stumbled through the opened door while wiping the sleep from his eyes. “All quiet?”

  Steve answered. “Yeah. Not much to see out there. A few fires in the distance. There must be a blacktop about six miles north. I saw headlights.”

  “Heading this way?”

  “No. Headed north,” Steve answered as he rubbed at his eyes.

  “Get some rest, I got this. Use the bottom bunk on the right. It’s not so hot. I’ll be out here.”

  “Thanks.” Steve handed Zack the handgun. “Remember, aim for the head and keep your eyes open when you pull the trigger.”

  “Got it.” Zack chuckled as he laid the gun next to him on the top step of the porch. “I’ll get you if I hear or see anything.”

  Steve rolled inside the cabin. After the breeze of the porch, the room felt like an oven. He went over to the bunk and pulled himself into the bed. Despite the warmth, he closed his eyes and was fast asleep within minutes.

  The sound of whispered voices woke Steve sometime after dawn. He opened his eyes to see dust motes dancing across the first rays of the sun shining through the back windows. The smell and sound of something cooking filled the little cabin. He threw his arm over his eyes as his stomach rolled. He swallowed hard as he listened to the voices coming from the kitchen.