Prepper Mountain

by Chris Bostic

  “Just wait here,” the man told us. “Spotted Fawn will be over in a second.”

  He gestured to the two adults as if we couldn’t have figured it out. One was a woman who was apparently giving orders to the other man. He hustled off toward the back of the camp, and she turned to face us.

  I had to hold my jaw to keep it from dropping open.

  The middle-aged woman, dressed in camouflage like the others, strolled over to us with a welcoming smile. I was too dumbfounded to speak when she said, “Welcome. Who do we have here, John?”

  “This lady was looking for Spotted Fawn,” the bearded man answered.

  “That’s right,” Mom answered. “I’m Sunning Bear.”

  While I held back a chuckle at the name, Spotted Fawn spoke up.

  “Awesome! You found us, and brought your fam…” The woman paused when our eyes met. “Don’t I know you?” she said, and I nodded stupidly. “You were at my house a couple days ago.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Mom and Austin turned to look at me, but I ignored them to finally ask the question I’d been dying to get out. “Is Katelyn here?”

  I may have said it too eagerly, but Mrs. Jennings didn’t seem to mind. “Of course.” To my relief, she kept the smile on her face. “It’s Zachary, is it?”

  “Yes, ma’am. That’s right.” I tripped over the words trying to find out more. “Where, uhm, is she…Mrs. Jennings?”

  My eyes darted around the campsite, but she was nowhere to be found. A handful of adults were scattered around tending to supplies or moving things around, but no one younger than twenty-five seemed to be in camp.

  “Just a second, hon,” Spotted Fawn said, echoing my Mom’s favorite nickname.

  Mrs. Jennings asked Mom about Marisol, and I tuned out much of the following conversation, preferring to search on my own for any sign of Katelyn. My eyes passed over another leafy hump, and I stepped away from Mom’s discussion with Katelyn’s mother to check one out. Buried underneath a mountain of small branches, it turned out to be a green vinyl dome tent.

  I jumped when the bearded man said, “Nice camouflage, huh?”

  I turned to find him right over my shoulder, apparently giving the women time to talk.

  “Wh-why so much?”

  “Too many eyes from up above.” John looked up at the bits of blue sky peeking through the tree cover. “You’ve seen the planes, right?”

  How could I forget them? “Too many.” It reminded me of the explosions I’d heard earlier. “We heard bombs and thought maybe they’d hit you guys.”

  “It was kinda close.” He grinned. “You should’ve seen everyone come running out of those tents. Like a fox in a henhouse.”

  “But everyone’s fine?” I said, even though he’d already answered the question. I needed to know about Katelyn.

  He nodded. “Sound travels weird in the hills. I reckon it was probably somewhere west of Elkmont, so not that concerning.”

  I wished Dad was there with the map. We needed to go back to find him. “We’ve got two more of our family waiting in the woods. Can we go get them?”

  “Show me the way,” John said, and we walked off to fetch Dad and Maddie. I didn’t bother to check on Austin before we left.

  John whistled to the sentries like before. Along the way, I asked, “Where’s everyone else at? Like the people my age?”

  “Working, just like everybody else.” He sized me up. “Everyone has a job to do.”

  “That’s not a problem,” I said. “I expected as much.” It certainly hadn’t been a picnic up to that point, and vacation—or rebellion—with my parents was sure to entail a ton of work, with or without company.

  “That’s good.”

  “So what kind of jobs are they out doing, like maybe Spotted Fawn’s daughter?”

  He eyed me suspiciously, but with good reason. That wasn’t very subtle.

  “Washing clothes at the creek, bringing back water. Maybe gathering berries or scouting.”

  I could see Katelyn handling any of them, though the scouting I wasn’t quite as sure about. But I got the impression she wasn’t afraid of a little work, and not at all prissy like my sister.

  I pointed to the left, and veered off toward the trail where we’d left my dad and sister behind. We kept our voices low as we tromped along, and I wondered how we’d keep from frightening them.

  “You mind if I call for them?” I asked.

  “That’s fine. Just don’t shout.”

  Maddie replied as soon as I said her name. She sounded timid, but at least awake and alert. John and I stepped onto the trail, and she rose up with Dad right behind her.

  “You found them,” Dad said, and walked over to pat me on the shoulder.

  “Yep. Mom’s talking to Spotted Fawn.” I didn’t volunteer that the apparent leader of the camp was also my prospective girlfriend’s mother. Nor that she seemed surprisingly more in charge and at ease in the wild than Marisol had indicated earlier.

  John introduced himself, and we chatted as we walked back through the woods.

  “Why aren’t we taking the trail?” Maddie asked. John whistled at a sentry, and I thought it would answer the question for her. She swatted at a low hanging limb and huffed. “Seriously, why?”

  “Just trying to keep a low profile,” John deadpanned, but seemed to add on the next part for shock value. “No need to tip off the drones. We don’t need a missile attack.”

  Maddie pinched her mouth shut and didn’t say another word the rest of the way. Dad talked to John about the camp, and I came to find out there were at least five different families holed up there, all from the Knoxville area.

  At first, it didn’t make sense based on the larger number of tent mounds I’d seen.

  “Big families,” I remarked. “I would’ve guessed more like forty people.”

  “It’s not just parents and kids,” John explained. “We’re talking grandparents, aunts and uncles. If you knew the end of the world was coming, you’d bring everyone you knew.”

  Good point, scary though it was. Only we didn’t have any family left, at least not close to us. Grandma passed away at least ten years before, and Grandpa was probably still driving around his farm in a beat up old truck. Too stubborn to leave, as Mom had told Dad recently.

  “So they’re all related to Spotted Fawn?” I asked, imagining this was a lot like one of those giant family reunion parties I’d seen at a park pavilion before.

  “Sort of, I guess,” John said. “Keep it down for a second.” He whistled as we halted about thirty yards shy of the edge of camp, but no one replied.

  John frowned but didn’t say anything at first. He motioned for us to stay put while he crept forward for a look.

  “What’s up?” Maddie whispered.

  “I don’t know.” I rocked on my feet, fighting a losing battle to keep my muscles loose. “There were all kinds of people around when we left.”

  I made a mental note to ask for water when things got sorted out. Before my legs completely cramped up, John waved us forward. “Hurry up.”

  We jogged to the edge and looked at the ghost town of a camp. The adults were gone, but everything still seemed to be in place. I noticed Dad and Maddie looking at the camouflaged tents curiously before turning my eyes back to the campsite. All the supplies were still stacked under the tables.

  Dad showed no willingness to add his duffel bag to the pile. I was sure that was going to the tent with him.

  “This way,” John said, pointing across the camp toward an outhouse building like the one at Nineteen.

  I turned my nose up, but froze when a frazzled Spotted Fawn emerged from the woods behind it.

  “Hurry, John!” she called. “There’s been an accident.”

  CHAPTER 29

  “What’s going on?” John said as he sprinted toward Mrs. Jennings. I was right on his heels.

  “At the waterfall,” she replied, pointing at a faint trail leading off into the woods behind the crapper. “They
need help.”

  As frantic as Spotted Fawn seemed, we didn’t wait around for more information. John flew down the narrow dirt path, pushing aside branches. I heard Maddie get smacked, but didn’t turn back to look. All I could imagine was Katelyn stretched out at the bottom of the falls, her body wrenched into opposite directions.

  We heard the shouts before we got close to the group. They easily overpowered the sound of falling water, which was more of a muted rumble like our shower at home, but the voices blended together until I couldn’t make out the words.

  “John, thank God,” a grandfatherly man said when we met him on the trail. He leaned against a rock outcropping, seemingly winded. “Someone’s fallen up there.”

  I saw Katelyn again, cartoon flat at the bottom of a ravine, water pounding her bloody body. I kept pace with John, not caring if Dad and Maddie were still close.

  The trail narrowed to where we had to put one foot in front of the other. To our left side, the ground dropped into a ravine that had to be hundreds of feet below. It was all green leaves with sporadic glimpses of a stream running way at the bottom, but far from a pillow if we tripped.

  John slipped, sending gravel pattering onto the leaves below like raindrops. He kept his footing and moved impossibly fast toward the falls. Somehow I managed to keep up with him.

  Through a clearing, I spotted a giant, flat rock outcropping sitting at the end of our path. A thin stream of water crashed onto the rock from a hill behind it, and reformed to spew again over the edge of the rock into the ravine below.

  Not much of a waterfall, I thought, wondering if the drought had robbed it of its potential. But I didn’t linger on those thoughts.

  A crowd had gathered on the ledge. Off to the side, a boy not quite a teen was stretched out on the ground. Two women leaned over him. Another pair of grade school kids was pressed up against the base of the rock cliff forming the upper falls, rubbing bruises.

  “We can’t get down there,” an adult was saying as he peered over the edge on hands and knees. He didn’t even have to shout to be heard.

  “You need a rope or something.” A woman in the crowd turned to John and lit up with relief when she spotted him. “You have anything?”

  “Not really.” He hustled to the edge of the drop off, and I stayed right on his heels. “What’s the situation?”

  The kneeling man pointed into a field of boulders and fallen logs. “We’ve got two over the side.”

  I nearly jumped over to follow them down when I heard a girl from below shout, “Please hurry!”

  Her voice sounded strained, but there was no doubting who said it. I laid on the rock and stuck my head over. A boy in shorts and a t-shirt was motionless on a flat rock immediately below the falls. It wasn’t as far as I’d expected, but was still a fifteen foot drop to solid, jagged rocks.

  “Katelyn!” I yelled. “Where are you?”

  “Zach? Is that you?”

  I followed the sound of her voice underneath the falls. “Yeah. I’m coming,” I said confidently, though I had no idea how.

  I spotted a fleck of yellow through the water and crawled around the kneeling man to get a look on the other side. Katelyn was in a sunny, happy-colored shirt while lying crookedly on the boulders. I couldn’t see one of her legs.

  “Are you okay?” I shouted though I didn’t really need to in order to be heard over the water.

  “I can’t move my leg,” she said.

  “I’m coming to get you.” I looked up to find a way down to her.

  “Bring up Jonas first, okay?” I could almost hear her swallow before she added, “It looks bad. He’s not moving.”

  Movement off to the side caught my eye. A group of several adults were trying to work their way into the ravine from the right. It was a treacherous side hill, and I wondered if they wouldn’t fall and end up even deeper into the ravine. It seemed to drop all the way to Knoxville.

  I thought back to the path John and I had used to get there. Right after the narrowest part of the trail, the slope had flattened out before we’d reached the waterfall. I had to try to get to Katelyn from there.

  “Don’t move,” I shouted to Katelyn, not really meaning to be a smart-aleck. I stood and offered a hand to pull John up. “Come with me.”

  He was eager to follow my lead, surprisingly not asking any questions as we went back to the trail. We ran forty yards back to point where the slope fell off about six feet to a dirt landing.

  “This way.” I sat on my butt and slid off the trail. I landed on the dirt, jarring myself but it was easy enough. Smashing my way through the brush was going to be harder.

  “Follow us,” John called back to the others after he landed behind me.

  I kept my eyes on my feet and raised an arm to shield my face. Like a fullback, I plowed through the brush until a thicker tree fought back and stopped me in my tracks.

  “Watch that one,” I called back to John, but there was no reply. He was still where we’d slid off, waiting for the others to catch up. When he hollered at the others to follow him, I turned my attention back to finding Katelyn.

  I readjusted course around the big tree, ducked under another, and soon found myself at the edge of the stream. Up ahead, the falling water slammed onto boulders.

  “Katelyn,” I called. “Almost there.”

  “Thank God.”

  “Are you okay?” I asked again, not knowing what else to say. All the while I searched for the quickest path through stones of varying sizes from medicine ball to Volkswagen.

  “I don’t know.” The pause made me pick up my pace. Finally, she added, “I’ll live. I’m just wedged tight.”

  She told me to check on the boy again, and I hurried to him, leaping from rock to rock, praying they wouldn’t shift on me. As big as they were, they looked stable enough.

  I knelt at Jonas’ side, but couldn’t bring myself to touch him. I thought I should try to check his pulse but settled for watching his chest.

  Someone hollered from up above, but I ignored him to stand up and search for John.

  “He’s breathing.” There was still no sign of help, though I heard rustling from the bushes. “John! Where are you?”

  “Coming,” he said, and he burst out of the woods with two other men in tow.

  “He’s still alive,” I said. “I saw his chest move.”

  John rushed past. “I’ll get him if you want to look after Katie.”

  Ignoring the unexpected nickname, and without giving him an answer, I hopped over the stream to get to her. At least I knew what to do for her, more or less.

  Katelyn’s brown eyes met mine as I slid in next to her. Her face was damp, presumably from falling water splashing on an adjacent rock. I wiped the spray from the side of her face and put my back between us and the waterfall.

  “What hurts?”

  “Everything,” she replied. “He was too close to the edge. I tried to grab him, but I was too late.” She wiped at her eyes, close to sobbing.

  “He’s gonna be okay,” I said. I had to believe that. “John has him, and he’s breathing. Probably just knocked out.”

  “Good. That’s real good.” She looked down at her lap and took an unsteady, deep breath.

  I noticed her left leg was twisted awkwardly underneath her. “Can you move?”

  “I’m wedged tight. I can’t push it off.” She patted a round rock leaning against the back of her other leg. It was big enough to make a nice seat had she been standing. “The rock rolled when I landed.”

  “That’s all though?”

  “I think. I landed on my feet.”

  “Luckily.”

  “Very.” She looked over toward John who was telling the other two men to lift the boy. “More than Jonas.”

  “I’m gonna get you outta here.” I moved behind her to get a look at the boulder. “Get ready to move when I say.”

  She pressed her lips together and nodded. I threw my weight into the rock. It weighed a ton, perhaps literally
, but I was able to make it shift—barely.

  “Pull your leg out,” I said through gritted teeth.

  “I can’t.”

  “You’ve got to!” I yelled, not meaning to raise my voice.

  I kept shoving against the rock, but it wouldn’t move farther. It was lodged in a gap between two others and wasn’t about to budge.

  Thankfully, John appeared at my side. We double-teamed the rock and the second I felt it lurch I took off a hand to yank Katelyn from the trap.

  “Go, girl!” John encouraged, grunting against the rock.

  She crawled out, and the rock settled back into the groove with a thump. I slid to her side, almost knocking her over in my haste. She gripped her right leg with both hands. Her round cheeks gave a red color to her flawless face, which twisted into a grimace.

  With a clenched jaw, breathing through her teeth, she turned to me frantically. “I can’t feel my toes.”

  The leg looked fine through her jeans. It wasn’t bent to the side like a wicked football injury. I tried to think what to say and finally managed, “It’s probably numb. The blood flow was cut off for a while, huh?”

  I reached for her pant leg, and she put a hand over mine, pinning it to her thigh.

  “Let me check, okay?”

  “Fine.” She looked away, and I hoped that would keep her from flinching when I touched her.

  I gently pulled her pant leg halfway up to her knee. There was a heavy purple line cutting across her calf from the left side of her shin all the way across the back. The skin was indented, deep as a pencil, from being pressed against the rocks. But there was no blood running all over.

  I pressed gently on the gouge. “Can you feel this?”

  “Barely.” She looked down and turned up her nose at the sight. “It’s just a dull ache.”

  “I’m not saying it’s not broken,” John said softly, reminding me he was still there, “but I’m thinking it doesn’t look too bad.” He stood up. “We’re gonna get you back up to camp, alright?”