by Chris Bostic
“I doubt it. They’ll leave us out here to starve,” Dad said.
Maddie sobbed louder. I had a hard time concentrating on the rest of their conversation between Maddie’s bawling and the aching in my gut. I was hungry enough to eat bark, but the pain was from something else altogether.
There was no way we could shelter in the church anymore. Anyone could’ve figured that out. We had to move, but I had no clue what my parents had in mind for a Plan B. I was completely dependent on them, which did nothing for my confidence. Then again, I supposed that wasn’t much different than back home—only the stakes had been raised exponentially.
I walked off far enough that I could keep the others in sight, and stared into the woods wondering if it was time to ask about going to find Katelyn. I decided I wouldn’t run away, at least not then, but thought it might make sense for us to consider hiding out in her basement. Or Joe’s. The Feds wouldn’t expect to find us at either place. If only we could get there.
I shook my head, quickly realizing there was no way my parents would agree to any part of that plan. They appeared set on staying in the park, no matter how many setbacks we suffered. A sense of hopelessness crept into my racing thoughts, quickly turning me into a mindless zombie.
I stumbled a little farther away from them, and came face to face with a square chunk of rock jutting out of the ground. It was the first of many I suddenly noticed in the area. It reminded me of all the trails we’d hiked before. They were usually ledges cut into rocky ridges, and led to waterfalls or scenic overlooks. I climbed up on the rock to see what I could find.
Nothing but leaves. Then something.
Wisps of smoke rose between the branches of the hardwoods below. At first I assumed it was the typical fog-like evaporation of water from the trees, before realizing it hadn’t rained in days. The gentle breeze changed direction, and I remembered the fire below.
Thoroughly disgusted at the mess and my own stupidity, I was about to hop off the rock when a glint caught my eye. I slid over on the table-sized rock until I caught sight of sunlight reflecting off a vehicle.
Too many branches were in the way to be sure, but I counted at least two more flashes, heading downhill. I waited until my back hurt, and swayed from side to side to keep the pressure off my feet. Finally, I was rewarded with the distant sound of vehicles accelerating.
I hopped off the rock and hurried back to the others.
“They’ve got plenty of other people to round up,” Dad was saying when I returned. “It’s a huge park.”
Mom nodded. “I guess…like the tent camp Marisol was talking about.”
“Speaking of the others, I’d agree that we need to go check it out,” Dad said. “Our time alone is-”
I interrupted to let them know what I’d seen and heard.
“Are you sure they’ve left?” Mom said, clearly excited at the prospects of checking out our supplies.
I had to backtrack a little. “Some of them. At least three.” Dad shook his head. “I mean the view wasn’t great, but I heard ‘em too.”
“There were five,” Dad said.
“A couple could’ve left already,” Mom argued. She grew somber before adding, “Maybe with, uhm, Marisol and Dave.”
Austin was right over Mom’s shoulder, practically begging to go back. Mom still had the fire in her eyes, but Dad doused it quickly. “We’re not going back there ‘til morning.”
“How about tonight?” Austin said. “I can sneak in there after dark.”
My head was in no hurry to get back either, but my stomach had other ideas. It grumbled as if on cue while Dad squinted and took a moment to process.
“I suppose we could…carefully.”
Austin pumped his fist. “I’ll be super careful.”
“That would be a first,” Dad mumbled. “Until then, we’d better sit tight and rest up. I have a feeling it’s going to be a long night.”
Like normal, he was right.
CHAPTER 20
I woke up at least a half-dozen times, and finally gave up on trying to nap for longer than five minutes at a time. The sun had dropped behind the mountain behind us, leaving us with only minutes of daylight. Maybe an hour.
My mouth was dry as August cotton, but the only thing we had to fix that was stream water. The problem was we were pretty far up the mountainside, meaning the stream would be a trickle, if there even was one. It all depended on the location of the spring, which was going to be the safest place to drink anyway.
Other than the clean water pouring right out of the rocks, I wasn’t willing to drink from anywhere else. Between the dirt and the animals and everything, it needed some purification, and we had nothing to fix that problem. We had nothing left to fix any problem.
Mom was wide awake watching over us when I sat up. She must’ve noticed the frown, or maybe the way I swished saliva in my mouth trying to make enough to swallow down the stuffy, scratchy feeling in the back of my throat.
“What’s the matter, hon?”
“You seriously didn’t bring anything when you ran?” I croaked. “No backpacks?”
“Nothing.”
Even though I accepted her answer, I said, “I don’t believe it.”
“God knows I wanted to, but…there wasn’t time.”
The others stirred. Austin may have been the most ready to go back to the church, but he was the last one up. That wasn’t surprising. As Mom would say, he could sleep through a nuclear war.
“Do we all have to go?” Maddie said, finally done with sobbing, at least for a while.
“No, sweetie,” Mom said. “You can wait here.”
I didn’t want to be split up in the dark. I was tempted to volunteer to stay with her, but I was curious enough about what was left behind that I had to go. So I turned to my sister and said, “That’s not much better. I’d come along.”
She shook her head.
“C’mon. Just come with us.”
“Leave her alone.” Mom looked at the sky. “Besides, it’s not time to go yet.”
I followed her gaze and was surprised to see a different kind of grayness leaking over the mountaintop where it had been clear moments before. I stood up and gave the sky my full attention while Mom went around rousting the others from slumber.
A cool breeze slipped over the mountaintop and ripped through the trees. Any thought of being hot disappeared. I shivered and hugged my t-shirt tight to my body, noticing the tears in the fabric from my earlier runs through the woods.
Thunder rumbled, and I shot a quick look at Maddie. She’d been following Mom around, keeping no more than an arm’s length away from her at all times. They both stopped to stare at the curtain of stormy blackness falling over the mountains.
The tops of the trees beat together with a brushing sound, sweeping loose leaves and dead twigs from the branches. The debris filled the air not unlike a miniature tornado before the first drops of rain hit.
A smack struck me on the bare arm, cold as a mountain stream. Before I could slink under the cover of one of the shorter maples, I was pelted with drops. My shirt was polka dotted in dark colors, and water streamed down my face.
I leaned my back up against the smaller tree and waved Maddie over. Mom grabbed her wrist and pulled her from the taller, lightning rod oaks over to my spot.
“This just keeps gettin’ better,” Maddie said. She hung her head and stared at the ground while the rain began to pound. Thankfully, the thunder didn’t reappear, as if it had only been announcing the rain’s arrival.
“This sucks,” Austin said, agreeing with Maddie for once. He hugged his arms tight to his skinny frame trying to ward off the chill.
I didn’t disagree with them. A cold soaking was as unwelcome as talking to my parents about girls, but I soon realized something good could come out of the rain besides a soap-free shower. I cupped my hands to try to catch some of the giant-sized drops running off the maple’s leaves, and ended up getting a little bit of moisture into my parched body.
My clothes were drenched by the time the rain stopped. My boots squished as I stood up to wring water out of my shirt, but there was nothing I could do about my jeans. Damp denim was about the most uncomfortable thing possible, especially when walking, though wet undies riding up my crack was a close second.
“Might as well move out,” Dad said once the rain quit for good. “We’ll need to move slowly anyway.”
Drops from leaves still pattered the ground, adding a multitude of sounds to the once quiet forest.
Mom checked out the sky one last time before agreeing with Dad. “Yeah, the drips will help cover our movement.”
“Now that it’s rained, maybe we’ll get some cooking fog too,” I added, grasping for any hidden bright side like a lifeline.
“As if we had something to cook, dumbass,” Austin chided, and I kicked myself for thinking positively.
None of it made Maddie feel any better anyway. I offered her a hand and pulled her up before she had time to argue about staying behind. We were better off together.
She ran a hand through her hair, and gathered up the loose strands into a crude ponytail. We waited until she squeezed out the precious drops. Gross though it was, I was sorely tempted to drink from her hair. The rain I’d collected had only served to make me thirstier.
“Let’s go,” Mom said.
She took the lead, and brought us slowly down the mountainside in a weaving, slalom pattern. It was more to avoid vegetation than rock outcroppings. Overall, the path was steep, but not littered with drop-offs that would’ve forced us far out of our way.
My jeans clung tightly to my legs. We were lucky to be going slow. The heavy fabric had the insides of my thighs chafed before we got halfway back to the church.
Mom held up a hand to stop. We gathered in the middle of dark green nowhere. The shadows had closed in until I could barely see more than twenty yards through the forest.
“Everybody alright?” Mom asked. There were nods and murmurs until she looked at me. “What’s wrong?”
“These wet jeans are killing me.” I grabbed below my crotch to pull at the fabric.
“You could take ‘em off,” Mom suggested.
“Eww,” Maddie said. She turned her head away.
I wasn’t that desperate, but it was getting close. “No way.”
“It’ll be really dark soon,” Dad said.
“Still ewww. Nobody wants to see that.”
I thought about saying Katelyn might, but thought better of it with my parents around. She probably wouldn’t either.
“He’ll have his underwear on,” Mom said, but Maddie wasn’t buying it.
She refused to turn around until I assured her that I had my pants on. They were unbuttoned, though, but that was evidently acceptable to her.
I gave them a shake to try to get some cool air down there. Mostly, I needed them to release their sandpaper grip on my inner thighs.
Any easing didn’t last for long. Mom was suddenly in a hurry to get back to the church. Maybe she thought the rain had run off the rangers, but I wasn’t convinced that it made a difference. Either way, I was too busy wincing with every footstep and walking bowlegged to worry about what we’d find when we finally got there.
Austin stopped on the trail to retie his boot and looked back at me with a chuckle.
“How you doin’, cowboy?” He tipped an imaginary hat.
“Terrible.” I grimaced and ground to a halt.
“Reckon so, pardner.” He hopped up and mimicked my stance like he was straddling a barrel. “That shore looks powerful bad.”
“Your cowboy accent sucks.”
I walked off hoping to leave him behind. I couldn’t be that lucky.
He hurried alongside to say, “Git along, little dogie.”
When he added a whip-cracking sound, I turned around to snap, “You start singing whoopee-ti-yi-yo and I’ll knock your head off.”
My icy stare wasn’t enough to back up the threat. He was all laughs at my misery, adding, “Oh, I forgot about those lyrics. Thanks.”
I pushed him away from me and stomped down the hill to catch up to Mom and Dad. Maddie was still trailing her like a lost sheep.
Mom whipped around to put a finger to her lips.
I exhaled loudly, too loudly, and kept coming. I wasn’t about to let Austin catch up.
“What’s wrong with you…besides, uhm, the obvious?” Mom gestured toward my soggy pants.
“Nothing.” I stretched my legs farther apart and groaned. “Just keep going.”
“Maybe we’ll find something for you in our stuff,” Dad said.
“If there’s anything left,” I muttered.
“Think positively, “Mom chided.
I should’ve tried harder and the rest of the hike wouldn’t have been so awful.
The air grew thicker around the church. I could tell we were getting close by the musty, charred smell of rainwater mixed with burn pit. It smelled like every time we’d ever dumped a bucket on the coals to put the campfire out for the night, only tinged with the lovely scent of garbage.
It didn’t give me much hope of finding anything useful.
CHAPTER 21
We slowed to a crawl. The air was so acrid I could hardly breathe. Through the twilight I could make out smoke covering the clearing like fog. It didn’t seem to have the energy to force its way through the cloud of humidity pressing from above. I didn’t have much energy left either.
We stopped short of the clearing. I pulled my wet shirt over my nose, and that seemed to help for a while. My eyes watered, definitely from the smoke this time, as I sat and waited for someone to make a move.
Austin’s leg was bouncing with nervous energy. He thrummed his fingers on the trunk of a tree, looking like a dog ready to get loose from a leash.
I squinted around Dad trying to get a better look at the vehicles. The lumpy outline of the Jeep was a relief, but not when Dad finally waved us forward to check it out.
Austin bounded on ahead. He stopped at our ride only for a moment before continuing on to Marisol’s truck. With a shake of the head, he put his hands on his hips and spit.
I didn’t have to get all the way to the Jeep to see that the tires had been slashed. Even the spare on the back had been jabbed with a blade.
Other than a few water jugs no one had felt like carrying, we’d already cleaned out the inside of the Jeep to bring everything inside. So it made sense why Austin hadn’t lingered long there. Still I thought I heard Mom gasp when she got up close to it.
The water jugs were all skewered too, just like the tires. There were rip marks through the seats, and the dashboard instruments were bashed in with a hard object. Probably a baton, just like Mr. Clean’s head.
I remembered Marisol had said she’d left a lot of her supplies in her truck. I hustled over to it to find the tires slashed and the tailgate hanging open. The back was cleaned out. While Austin reached for the door handle, I waited with less than hopeful anticipation. It was a longshot.
“Nothing,” he called out. “The inside’s bare.”
“Figures,” Dad said. “I’m not surprised. Either they never had what they said, or the rangers packed it all out of here.”
“It could’ve been some good stuff,” Mom said, sticking up for her captured friend. “She was the best survivalist on the forums.”
“Dave said they had tons, but maybe they didn’t need much.”
“Maybe.” Mom dabbed at the corner of her eye subtly and sniffled. “I was counting on her for her survival skills, so you could be right about them not needing a lot…not like our giant load.”
I turned to the clearing to search for the burn pile. The rain had drenched any flames, which gave me a sliver of hope that something survived. But the darkness was settling in fast, competing with the smoke for which could blind us quicker.
While Mom and Dad headed off for the church, I walked into the clearing. Figuring the rangers would’ve dumped the truck’s contents close by
, I expected to stumble on it any second. Instead, I shuffled past the gravel driveway, and way out into the open area without seeing anything.
“Did they have anything worth taking?” I called through the darkness to anyone who would listen.
“Who?” Maddie said. Judging by her location, she was sitting on the front steps.
“Mr. Clean and Marisol.”
“I dunno. Why?”
“I can’t find the burn pile.”
“It’s back here,” Austin called from the rear of the church.
I left Maddie alone and followed the bulky outline of the building around back. From inside, I heard the sound of boots clumping on wooden floor boards, but no words. I figured that probably wasn’t a good sign. But I also didn’t know how they could see in there. With the night sky blacked out by fog and smoke, it was getting to the point where I truly couldn’t see my hand in front of my face.
When I couldn’t find Austin moving around, I stopped to ask, “Where you at?”
“In the cemetery.”
“Seriously?”
I felt around and followed his voice until I found him standing at the knee-high fence squinting toward the headstones.
“Looks like they shoved everything out the back door,” he said. “At least the rain put the fire out.”
I exhaled the frustration, but it seemed like more seeped back in when I took another breath. I coughed and readjusted the shirt to better cover my nose.
“How can you tell anyway?” I’d seen some dark nights, but this was like being locked in a closet. A smoky, damp closet in a house that had just burned down.
“Guessing.”
“Of course you are.”
Austin snorted. “Why not?”
I turned my back on him to feel for the rear steps to the church. “This is hopeless, huh?”
“The searching or what we’ll find?”
“Both.”
I found a step and started to climb. To my surprise, a light popped on inside.
“You’ll burn the place down, Harold.”
“Relax,” Dad said as I pulled the door the rest of the way open. “There’s a candle around here somewhere.”
