The Hidden Survivor

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The Hidden Survivor Page 8

by Connor Mccoy


  Glen pulled his bivy out of his pack and popped it open. It was a tiny tent, just big enough for him to lie in, but it would give him some privacy. He too had a set of dry clothes in his bag, but unlike Christian, he had the ability to change on his own.

  When Glen was dry and in clean clothes, he checked Christian’s bandages and saw that the wound had begun to weep pus. No wonder Christian had had trouble keeping his feet in the river, his body was fighting infection. Glen felt the twinge of guilt for making the three travel farther than necessary. They could have been at the town about now had they travelled directly.

  He pushed the guilt aside. There was nothing he could do about that now, and he had every right to protect himself. They’d said themselves they were out to kill.

  Because they couldn’t communicate over the noise of the falls there wasn’t much to do but eat, relax by the fire, and go to sleep. Before they all dropped off he motioned to the women to help him slide Christian into the bivy. That way if there was rain or a heavy dew the man wouldn’t get wet again.

  Christian struggled to help, but in the end it was just easier for him to lie still while Glen took his shoulders and the women each took a leg and moved him into the tent. Then they each found a spot not far from the fire to bed down. Glen slept with his hand on the rifle, just in case.

  The next day was slow going. Christian was able to get up and move around, but he was slow and clumsy. Glen was positive he was running a fever, but there wasn’t much he could do about it besides give him over the counter pain relievers.

  By the time they had broken camp it was late morning, and Glen kept the pace slow. It would take most of the day to get there at this pace, but it was that or carry Christian. And he really didn’t want to carry Christian.

  They stopped to rest every hour, and each time Christian was slower to recover. When they broke for lunch, he didn’t want to eat.

  “Just let me sleep for a while,” he said to Glen. “I’m not hungry.”

  But Glen made him eat half a travel bread before he’d let him sleep. “Your body needs fuel,” he said. “Eat and then sleep.”

  It was late afternoon when they reached the cliff overlooking the town. They set up the bivy, hidden by bushes, and left Christian to sleep. Then the three of them crawled to the edge of the cliff to look down over the town. Mia and Sally sucked in their breath, and even Glen was surprised. The town looked like a war zone.

  About a mile from town, to the north, a fuel tanker was flipped onto its side, blocking the road. Glen couldn’t see that far to the south, but he’d put money on there being a similar roadblock down there. There were cinder block walls built across the smaller roads. It was as if someone had stood in the center of town and decided to build a wall across every road seven blocks from the center. Glen wondered what the people who lived eight blocks out thought of this plan. Not that there were many houses past that point, it was a pretty small town.

  Beyond the walls, cars had been abandoned in the streets. In fact, as Glen examined the town below him, he realized that while there were a few old trucks and station wagons in the town, all the newer vehicles, those that would have been rendered useless by the Space Storm, had been pushed out of the center of town. The older cars and trucks were apparently still useful, and they were parked around the town green.

  “Didn’t you say you had binoculars?” Sally asked. “Why not get them out?”

  “Because the sun might catch the lenses and give us away,” Glen said. “We can use them in the morning, or at dusk, but right now… I don’t think so.”

  “Smart,” Mia muttered under her breath, and Glen wondered if they’d been trying to trick him. But that didn’t make any sense. If he got caught, they got caught.

  He went back to his examination of the town. Two ways in and two ways out, at least by vehicle. On foot it might be easier.

  “I’m not getting a good feeling about this place,” Glen said. “They don’t look like they welcome strangers.”

  “Tell me something I don’t already know,” Sally said. “That place is a fortress.”

  “Yeah,” Mia added, “I don’t think we are just going to walk up and get let in.”

  “Exactly,” Glen said. “I think we are going to have to sneak in and steal what we need.”

  “That seems kind of risky,” Sally said. “Couldn’t we at least try asking for help first?”

  “We could, but if we do, they are going to be watching out for us,” Glen said. “If we sneak in and out without them knowing we are here, they don’t have time to prepare for us. If you get my meaning.”

  “I don’t know,” Sally said. “I still think we should at least try.”

  “Before we do anything,” Mia said, “I think we need to get a closer look.”

  Glen nodded. “My thoughts exactly. See down there?” he said, pointing to an area right below them. “That line of fence behind that row of houses?”

  “I see it,” Mia said, and Sally nodded.

  “It seems like there might be a break in the fence, or possibly a gate.” Glen rubbed his forehead with the ball of his thumb. “If we could get through there, we could sneak between two houses and then into the town. I’m suggesting we go down and circle the town and see what we can see from the woods. Stay under cover of the trees for now and see what the lay of the land looks like. If we split up, take thirds, we could check it out and be back up here before sunset. Are you willing?”

  “We stay out of sight and just see what we can see, yes?” Sally asked and he nodded. “Then I’m in.”

  “Me too,” Mia said. “Christian needs medicine. The sooner we get this done, the sooner we can help him.”

  “Okay then,” Glen said, “see that greenhouse there to the left? Mia, you start there and go left until you reach the main road. Do not cross that road unless you are absolutely certain no one can see you. Understand?”

  Mia nodded and bit her lip.

  “If you can cross it, go as far as the red barn. Sally, you start at the greenhouse and go right as far as the main road and then stop. I will cross the road way back into the woods and do the section on the other side. When you’ve seen all you can see, come back here.”

  They left their bags and rifle near the bivy and checked to see that Christian still was sleeping. Then Glen led the women back down the trail they’d arrived on, splitting off onto a smaller trail that led down the hill into the woods behind the town.

  They stepped as lightly as they could and didn’t speak. Glen felt hyper-alert and often stopped to listen. When they caught a glimpse of the greenhouse through the trees, he sent Mia left and Sally right. He moved back into the trees, taking a path through the undergrowth that should take him to the road, but farther from the town.

  He moved quickly on his own, having developed the ability to move silently through the woods while hunting. It was that, or starve to death. When he came to the road he spent a solid three minutes just listening. It seemed like forever, but he knew better than to rush. When the three minutes passed without the hint of a human sound, he crept to the edge of the road and listened again. He examined the road in both directions and then the woods around the road.

  When he was completely certain he was alone, he crossed.

  Back in the woods on the other side he switched direction and made for the edge of town, out where the red barn was. By now he hoped Sally had reached the road and was on her way back, Mia too, unless she’d crossed. Even then, she should be about ready to turn around.

  He spotted the barn, but not Mia. He worked his way to the left, around the edge of the town, but still hidden by the woods. He spotted the fence he had noticed from above and, sure enough, there was a path that led to a gate into the yards behind the houses. You could build a fence, but you couldn’t keep kids from exploring. And thank the powers that be for that.

  Glen grinned and kept going. It was time to make his way back up to the ridge.

  Chapter Eleven

 
; Sally and Mia were waiting for him at the head of the game trail and they hiked back up to the ridge together. The women were quiet and Glen thought they looked exhausted. The whole group had to try getting better sleep. But not tonight, tonight was for burgling.

  They stopped at the bivy to check in on Christian, who seemed feverish and restless. Glen told him to sleep a while longer and then led Sally and Mia away toward the top of the ridge again.

  “Listen,” he said. “There is a stream maybe a mile away. I’m going to see if I can collect some freshwater mussels. We all need some protein, and while you can live off travel bread for a really long time, it’s best to have a little variety. You stay here and watch the town.”

  “What are we watching for?” Sally asked. She had circles under her eyes and she looked confused.

  “Anything that might give us an advantage,” he said. “The more information the better.”

  Glen looked back before they were out of view to see the girls hunkered down, heads close together as they kept watch on the town. He was relieved. That would keep them busy and, hopefully, they wouldn’t start worrying about Christian. Glen was worried about Christian, and that was enough.

  He quickly moved through a meadow of tall grass and then ducked back into the undergrowth. He was direction finding by memory, and listening hard for sounds of water. It took him thirty minutes, but he did find the creek where he remembered it. It was moving slow and easy, so it was no wonder he hadn’t heard the water.

  He took off his boots, stuffed his socks into them and then tied his laces together so he could hang them around his neck. He walked into the water, which reached mid-calf. He was being careful not to stir up the sand and silt he walked slowly along, scanning the bottom of the stream. It took a while, maybe ten minutes or so, for him to find the first mussel. He plucked it up, rinsed it in the slow moving water at the surface and dropped it in one of his boots.

  He walked upstream for about twenty minutes, picking up mussels as he found them, then turned and made his way downstream, doing the same. On the way back up to the spot where he had entered the water he found another couple mussels he’d missed on the way down. So, when he climbed from the stream he had about forty mussels. Ten apiece. Not a feast, but with the travel bread enough to fill them up.

  He dumped out his boots, dried his feet with his socks and put the socks and the boots back on. He had damp socks, but all in all it wasn’t so bad. He took off his long-sleeved shirt, tied the mussels up in it and headed back to the others.

  Thirty minutes later he was back at the ridge and emptying his shirt onto the grass. He waved to the women to stay where they were and began building a fire. He was careful to locate it where the townspeople wouldn't be able to see the smoke, a ways back from the edge of the cliff and down the hill. Any smoke would be hidden from the town by the hill and the woods. He would endeavor to make as little smoke as possible, but it was a fire after all. There would be smoke. He struck his hunting knife against the Ferro rod over a small pile of dry grass and twigs, and then fed the fire until he had a couple of small logs burning. Then he went in search of some greens – mostly Amaranth, clover and dandelion -and a couple of good pieces of bark.

  When he returned the fire was burning hard. He prepared the mussels while it burned itself down to coals. He placed the greens on one of the pieces of bark, and then arranged the mussels on the greens. He covered the mussels with more greens, topped them with a second piece of bark and set them on the coals.

  The bark immediately caught fire, which wasn’t his goal, but wasn’t horrible. With luck the greens would keep the flames from the mussels and they would steam and not get scorched. If they did get scorched, they would eat them anyway. He banked the coals around them and left them.

  He made his way back to check on Christian, who he was worried about. As he feared, the infection was worse, red and oozing pus. Glen cleaned the wound the best he could, with Christian watching through wary eyes.

  “It’s not good, is it?” he asked.

  “You just need antibiotics,” Glen said. “But the town does not look welcoming. The plan is to sneak in tonight, take what we need, and sneak out again. But you don’t need to come, the girls and I can make it without you.”

  “I’m coming,” Christian said with his eyes closed. “There’s no way I’m staying here while the three of you break into a town. No offense, Doc, but I’m the only one with any experience in breaking and entering.”

  “It’s no good you coming if you are going to pass out. Your body is busy fighting this infection and you may find yourself passed out in the woods. That wouldn’t be helpful.”

  “Feed me. Hydrate me. I’ll be fine. I’m not staying here.” Christian opened his eyes and gave Glen a look that told him not to bother arguing.

  “Fine. It’ll be on your head. Why don’t you see if you can get up? We’ve got mussels for dinner.” Glen left Christian to pull himself out of the tent and down to the fire.

  Glen watched as Christian made his way down the hill. He was steadier than Glen expected him to be. Good. If he could be helpful, that would be a bonus.

  Glen brushed the ash and greens off the mussels with a brush made of grass. The majority of the mussels had opened, so he picked up the ones that hadn’t. He quickly tossed them in the coals, because they were hot and burned his fingers. If his bark platter hadn’t burned, he would have been able to pull the others off the fire easily, but it had. So, he got smart and pulled out his hunting knife. He used the knife to flick the mussels into a pile of clover near the fire.

  He whistled for the women, and they came down to join them. They all were quiet as they ate. Sally tore her bread open, pulled the mussels from their shells and made a mussel dandelion sandwich. Mia was a lot less bold, pulling the mussels from their shells and pretty much swallowing them whole, with a water chaser.

  “You don’t have to eat them if you don’t like them,” Glen said. “I won’t be offended.”

  “I don’t know if I like them or not,” she replied, “but this way I get filled up without knowing.”

  “Why don’t you try one and find out?” Glen asked, puzzled.

  “Because, if I don’t like them, I won’t want to eat anymore, and we all need the protein. I’ll try them when it won’t matter if I like them or not.” Mia shrugged her shoulders and went back to swallowing mussels whole.

  “Fair enough,” Glen said and went back to his own mussels.

  Christian looked as if he was eating without an appetite. Chewing hard and swallowing without pleasure or hunger. He knew his body needed fuel, so he ate. Glen thought he could have put anything edible in front of Christian and he would have choked it down. You had to admire his determination, Glen thought.

  When they all had finished, they gathered around what was left of the coals and talked town invasion as dusk fell.

  “I think we should split into two teams,” Glen said. “One team breaks into the pharmacy, while the other creates a diversion.”

  “Okay,” Mia said. “How do we keep from getting caught if we’re being diverting?”

  “By making a bunch of noise, but not being seen,” Glen said. “I bet Christian has some ideas about that.”

  “I do,” Christian said. “We don’t have any explosives, but we could light that tanker on fire.”

  “I think we should burn something closer to the village. They may not bother running down the road for a tanker that’s a mile from the village, but light up a vehicle near one of the houses and they will come,” Sally said.

  “I take your point,” Christian said. “We light an old pickup – something without a locked gas cap – the town runs to put it out, Mia and Glen sneak into the pharmacy, get what we need, and sneak out again. Right?”

  “Yeah,” Glen said, “but don’t burn down any buildings, Okay? We don’t want these people hunting us down.”

  “Are you sure we shouldn’t just go up to the gate and tell them what we need?” Sall
y asked. “This way is so intrusive, and it’s bound to piss them off.”

  “I just don’t think we can risk it,” Glen said. “We do that and they’ll not only know who we are, but what we need. If they don’t help us, we’ll be out of luck. And we don’t have time for negotiation. Christian needs antibiotics now. God knows what germs were in that river.”

  “I’m with Glen,” Christian said. “I’ve got a limited shelf life. If we don’t wrap this up tonight, I’m not going to be able to help.”

  “How bad is it?” Mia asked. “Can I see?” She reached over to lift his shirt, but he batted her hand away.

  “Leave it,” he said, and glowered at her.

  But she wasn’t looking at him, she was looking at his shirt. “Are you bleeding?” She looked closer at the stain that was growing on his shirt. “No. That’s not blood.” She leaned over and sniffed. “That’s pus,” she said. “You’ve already got an infection, don’t you?” She turned angrily to Glen. “He’s got an infection.”

  “Yes. He has an infection. Which is all the more reason for us to skip the pleasantries and cut to the chase. Christian wasn’t kidding when he said he has one shot at this. If we don’t get this treated by tomorrow, he’ll be delusional from fever. I can continue cleaning the wound with boiled water, but I don’t have what he really needs.” Glen spread his hands in a gesture of need. “In fact, if they have any antiseptic, I wouldn’t mind spraying that in there too. And super glue would be better than stitches at this point, as would butterfly bandages.”

  “That list is getting pretty dang long,” Sally said. “Are we going to be able to create a big enough diversion?”

  “Once in the pharmacy it shouldn’t take more than five minutes to find what we need,” Glen said. “The chaos created by a fire should more than cover that.” He picked up a stick and drew a circle in the ashes on the outer edge of the dwindling fire.

 

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