Prepper Mountain

by Chris Bostic

  “We’re gonna do it?”

  “Why not?”

  She shrugged. “Yeah, why not.”

  Maddie gathered up the other kids and started explaining the rules to them. I pulled Katelyn aside to discuss strategy.

  “We’re not goin’ easy on these guys,” I said. “We’re gonna smoke the field.”

  Her eyes narrowed, though I caught the trace of a grin. “You really need to beat a bunch of kids? Whatever happened to letting ‘em win?”

  “Hard lessons,” I said, mostly joking. “We can’t baby ‘em.”

  “I think they’ve been through enough.”

  Though it was the truth, she didn’t convince me to keep from giving it my all.

  Maddie lined everyone up on the east side of camp and headed off to the west to a finish line she drew on the ground with her boot. Katelyn got into position on the ground in front of me, and I bent over to grab her ankles. While we waited for Maddie to start the count, I made grumbling, zooming car sounds and furrowed my brow until my eyes squinted in a paper thin line.

  Jonas and his partner looked a little freaked out by my pretend intensity. I pointed two fingers at my eyes and turned them on him to let him know I was watching. He grinned.

  “You guys are going down,” I taunted all the youngsters playfully.

  “Yeah, right,” someone smarted off from the far end of the line.

  “We’ll see,” I replied, but missed Maddie starting the three count. She was only to two when the other racers took off. “Hey! Cheaters.”

  I pushed Katelyn forward, and she jerkily put one hand in front of the other. With her long body, we easily caught up to the others before they were halfway across the campsite.

  “Go! Go! Go!” I shouted.

  “I’m trying,” she said, but stumbled again. I ended up pushing too hard. Her arm buckled and her shoulder plowed into the ground. I kept going, and slid on a knee to keep from landing all the way on top of her. The other kids raced on.

  Jonas stared at us with triumphantly raised arms from the finish line while I untangled my legs from Katelyn’s with a groan.

  “Nice job, Zach,” she said, voice dripping with sarcasm.

  “Same to you, Katie,” I shot back. “We lost to a bunch of first graders.”

  “What did you call me?”

  The intensity of the question made me pause before saying, “Katie.”

  “Where’d you hear that?”

  “John.” My fake frown turned into a real one. “Was that wrong?”

  “No, it’s just most people call me Kate.” She looked into my eyes and leaned in until her lips were millimeters away from mine. “I don’t mind whatever as long as you call me something.”

  “How about girlfriend?”

  She scooted back a fraction. “I kinda thought I was.”

  I panicked but tried to play it off nonchalantly. “Of course, of course. That’s what I meant.”

  “Very smooth,” she said. “Now help me up, okay?”

  “Sure thing, Katie.”

  She grinned and said, “I can think up a couple nicknames for you.”

  “I’ll bet you could. Let’s save that for later.”

  “You’re no fun,” she teased.

  I pointed toward the old lady. She’d left her seat to go to the kitchen. “I think Granny needs your help over there.”

  She jerked my arm, dragging me to the back of camp with her. “Then you’re helping too.”

  I followed reluctantly and ended up getting assigned a sack of potatoes. “Peel those up, please,” the woman demanded, and I found myself a spot at the closest table.

  “Is there a cutting board?” I asked, remembering that we’d always used one at home or Mom would flip out about scratches on her countertops. It reminded me that she was still gone to town, and guilt seeped into my body like the cold once the sun sank below the hills. I’d been playing around all day, and couldn’t believe I’d temporarily forgotten about the adults, particularly since they were late. At least Katelyn was good at keeping my mind off other, darker things.

  “Just use the table,” the woman was saying as I refocused. She turned back to my girlfriend to give her something to work on.

  I interrupted one more time. “How about one of those peeler things?”

  “That’s what the knife’s for,” she said sharply and shook her head.

  Katelyn made a face at me and mouthed, “Duh.”

  I sliced off the end of the closest potato and threw it at her. She ducked and stuck her tongue out. If the old lady hadn’t been around, I would’ve left my seat to do something unkind.

  I probably took a lot longer and wasted more potato than I was supposed to, but they were hard to peel with a knife. The woman had come over clucking her tongue and shaking her head more than once, but I finally got the job wrapped up.

  Granny pointed to a cast iron pot sitting on top of a gas burner. “Slice those up thin, and bring them over to the grease.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  I lost track of Katelyn while I went to work on the slicing. They came out in all sorts of weird sizes from triangular to paper thin to pencil thick, but I finally got an approving nod from Granny when I finished.

  “You’ll get the hang of it,” she said. Her wrinkles deepened as she dropped the homemade chips into the hot grease, and the calm liquid bubbled fiercely. “I’d say it’s plenty hot.”

  I nodded, and took a step back to keep from being splattered. Flaming oil was serious stuff, and it gave me an idea.

  Katelyn stepped out from behind the supply tent with an armload of plastic plates and dish rags for napkins.

  “C’mere,” I said softly.

  She deposited the fine china on the table next to Granny and stepped over.

  I pointed at the fryer. “Do you have more propane bottles?”

  “Yeah, I think so. Both sizes.”

  “A lot?”

  “I guess. There’s at least three or four more of the big ones back there.” She gestured behind the supply tent, and paused to scratch her head. “But, you know, it seems like we had more than that yesterday.”

  “Really? How many?”

  “Like twice as many. I can’t remember.”

  That got me wondering if our parents had come up with the same idea. “You think our folks took ‘em with them?”

  “I didn’t notice. Anyway, we’ve still got a ton of those little ones.” She held her hands out to make the football shape of the little green ones like the portable bottle Austin had brought over with us.

  “Perfect. Those could come in handy.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

  “If it comes to it, the soldiers aren’t the only ones who can use bombs.”

  CHAPTER 37

  Dinner was another solid meal, but it set just about as hard in my stomach. I should’ve expected it. Once the games and dinner chores were over, the doubts crept back in again—along with the fear of drones.

  I spent a lot of time looking at the sky, wishing I had something useful to occupy my thoughts. It was a calm evening, completely in contrast with the storm raging in my mind. I thought maybe starting a soothing campfire would do the trick, but I knew I could only stare at the glowing coals for so long. I wouldn’t be able to keep the darker thoughts away no matter what I tried.

  Even if a little fire would’ve calmed my nerves, we’d already decided not to waste the wood. Granted there was a forest of potential firewood surrounding us, but not much had been done to split it yet other than the Olsen family’s attempt during the daylight hours. If they had been friendlier, I might’ve considered grabbing an axe and helping out. Even Katelyn seemed apprehensive of those two, who sat off at the edge of camp, still keeping to themselves.

  I supposed each person dealt with the challenges differently. Some clammed up, while others seemed to babble for the sake of making noise. Rather than dwell on our current company, or lack thereof, I found myself wondering why the other
adults hadn’t returned.

  I sat on my hands at the picnic table and kicked a pebble with my boot. A muttered curse snuck out along with an exaggerated exhale.

  “What are you thinking?” Katelyn asked in response to my not-so-subtle invitation to talk.

  “You really wanna know?”

  She looked tired, but probably as much mentally exhausted as physical. At least that’s how I felt, though my sore legs and aching back were giving my brain a run for the money.

  “Of course,” Katelyn replied softly.

  “That we need to leave.” I shot a quick glance toward Maddie. She was trying to corral the little kids for story time. “I’m still thinking about that smoke. We’ve gotta go find the others.”

  “They said they’ll be back. It should’ve been sooner, but…” Her reply contained the same lack of confidence I felt. We needed to be doing something. Sitting around wasn’t good for me. I had to know what was going on.

  “Maybe we don’t have to go all the way to town. I just need to get outta here for a while.”

  “I get that. But what if we miss ‘em? We could go off one way, and they’d come back a different one. One of a thousand. It’s a huge park.”

  “Sure. That’s possible, but maybe not that likely.”

  She shook her head. “How so?”

  “Hear me out. There’s only one road into town, and that’s the big highway from Gatlinburg to Cherokee. Surely they’ll try to get into the city that way.” An image of the park map ran through my head. It was easy to remember the best route seeing how I was more familiar with the park closer to Gatlinburg. “And the only way from here to there is the trail to Elkmont, then on a side road that turns into Little River Road. And that one runs out to the main highway.”

  “I guess. Makes sense as long as you know what you’re talking about.”

  “I do. I can get us to town. That’s not a problem.” I struggled to put my thoughts into words. “I just…I just have a bad feeling about that smoke.”

  I got the impression she was about to come over to my side, but the doubts were keeping her rooted to camp. She paused for a long time before saying, “But what can we do?”

  “Maybe nothing. But I’d rather see for myself than wait here.”

  “I get that. I wouldn’t mind…”

  “Maddie’s got everything under control here.” I gestured over to where she sat at a table, the kids gathered around to listen to her read a story. “She can get them to sleep while we roll out, and,” I scoffed, “the Olsens will never know we’ve left.”

  “Maybe.”

  I looked at the western horizon and was unsurprised to find the sun below the ridgeline. “It’s a good time to go. A little daylight for the first part, and darkness for cover when we get close.”

  “My mom will freak if she gets back and I’m gone,” Katelyn said, throwing up her last line of defenses.

  “Mine, too.” I flashed a rogue grin. “They’ll get over it.”

  “They’ll be pissed.”

  “Wouldn’t be the first time, would it?” I retorted.

  She frowned. “I’m not like that. I don’t get in trouble…much.”

  “Me, either.” I leaned over to retie my boots. “C’mon, let’s do this.”

  “Fine,” she huffed, “but you’re taking the heat.”

  I had to tease her. “Are you so easily persuaded?”

  She slugged me on the shoulder. “Very funny. I’m not answering that.”

  I hopped up from the table and offered her a hand. At my suggestion, we headed off to the kitchen area to gather up a few supplies for the hike. We each grabbed a couple granola bars and an apple.

  Granny looked at us curiously, but didn’t offer more than a nod as we slipped the granola into our pockets. Her husband dozed with his head down on the picnic table, and she went back to weaving together a couple rolls of colorful yarn into an elaborate pattern. If we camped out there long enough, she’d have enough scarves and mittens made for everyone. I figured we might need them eventually, and reminded myself to ask her later to make me a blanket.

  As we cut back across camp to grab water bottles, I veered over toward the outhouse. Maddie had the kids lined up for bathroom break, though it seemed the boys preferred peeing in the woods to the stink house. I couldn’t blame them.

  “We’ll be back, sis.”

  “Where are you going?”

  I pulled her over to the side and let her in on my plans. Surprisingly, her reaction seemed no worse than when I’d told her we were going to get water.

  “Just be careful.”

  I tried out the rogue grin on her too. “You know me. My middle name’s careful.”

  “I thought it was dumbass.” She laughed at her own joke.

  “Yeah, that’s what Austin says,” I scoffed. “We’ll see what happens after I save his sorry butt.”

  Maddie’s eyes narrowed and she returned to serious. Not terrified, but concerned. “Please don’t do anything stupid.”

  “Stupid’s my middle…” I quit smiling and found myself giving her a hug. “Don’t worry, sis. We’ll be extra careful.”

  “You better.” She looked back over at the kids. They’d started to get a little rowdy without her supervision. “I should go, okay?”

  I nodded, the bobbing of my head driving nails into my stomach. I hated to leave Maddie behind, but I sure didn’t want her with me either. We needed to move quickly and quietly, not slow and whiny.

  I motioned for Katelyn to start walking and met up with her at the edge of camp.

  “Back down the trail one more time, then I finally get to explore new territory.”

  “You okay?” Katelyn asked, seeing through my false bravado.

  “Yeah.” I took one last look at camp before it disappeared. “Just feeling bad about leaving Maddie behind with the kids again.”

  “It’s for the best.” She paused, and I heard her gulp over the sounds of our boots pounding the ground. “I wouldn’t mind staying back with her.”

  I slowed. “You can.”

  “No, that’s not really what I meant. Besides, we’re a team now, right?”

  “I thought it was boyfriend girlfriend,” I said, teasing her about our earlier conversation.

  “Team’s better than that, silly. Don’t forget it.”

  She took off walking faster, and I had to jog for a moment to catch up. In no time, we crested the hill and started down the steep trail to the creek.

  We went ahead and ate our apples as we hiked. I couldn’t stuff mine in the pocket of my borrowed pants, and there wasn’t any point carrying it around all night. As I munched on the apple, I thought about the trail ahead.

  I ran through a bunch of different scenarios in my head, trying to plan an alternate route should we run into unexpected trouble. I regretted not having a copy of the park map, since my father had run off with the only one I’d seen. I should’ve asked Katelyn if she knew where there might have been another one before we’d left, but I’d been too excited that she’d actually agreed to go with me. Until she’d cracked, I’d figured we were stuck in camp all night waiting.

  “Looking for something?” she asked, apparently noticing the way I double checked every pocket hoping directions would magically appear.

  “I really wish we had a map.”

  “I thought you said you knew where we were going?” She eyed me suspiciously. “You made it sound awfully simple.”

  “It is…for real.” I hesitated as I tried to hide my bigger concerns behind something believable, but less concerning. “I promise I know how to get there from Elkmont. I just, uhm, kinda don’t know where that first turn is at. I’m good after that.”

  I mentally kicked myself for hiding the truth from her, but justified it by not wanting to alarm her.

  “Yeah, that’s easy.” She pointed beyond the pile of rock denoting the stream. “The trail’s not too far past on the other side.”

  “Jack’s Creek?” I asked,
trying to remember how Dad had described it earlier.

  “Jake’s Creek. We’ll take the trail in to where we parked.”

  I nodded confidently. “Perfect.”

  We crossed the creek with a careful choosing of rocks, meaning my socks remained only slightly damp. My forehead was speckled with moisture too, like standing in the spray of a waterfall.

  The sun inched farther away by the second, sending cooler nighttime air our way. I figured on at most an hour of daylight, but it turned out to be longer than my estimate.

  We took the Jake’s Creek Trail and hiked at most a half mile before the woods suddenly opened up in front of us.

  It wasn’t a bare patch without trees. Rather, there were just a few giant shade trees spread out over a vast area. In many ways, it was similar to our shaded clearing back at site Twenty, but much larger in scale.

  “What’s that?” I asked as we continued toward the clearing. My eyes scanned as far as they could see, which was becoming increasingly less by the step.

  “There’s a huge campsite here. A real one, with roads and everything.” Before I could ask, she added, “My mom said it was way too close to civilization to stay here. That’s why we took off for the woods.”

  “I can see that,” I said, and moments later I took my first step out onto a paved road. We stood at the edge of the asphalt and stared into the camp. There were concrete pads where families might’ve once parked campers. Next to those, each spot had a picnic table and a built-in iron grill box mounted on a pole. At initial estimate, there could’ve been a hundred or more.

  “Huge campsite, huh?” I whispered.

  “You ever stay in one like this?”

  “No. Mom said they’re too soft, too citified. She always made us stay at primitive sites, kinda like Twenty.”

  “Oh, well that sucks.” Katelyn edged over to the side of the road and slowly began walking along the fringe of the deserted campsite. “If there wasn’t a hotel close by, we might’ve considered staying in a place like this. Maybe.”

  I never assumed she was super outdoorsy, not that it mattered to me. Mom might’ve thought Katelyn was too soft and suburbanized for us, but I didn’t let those kinds of comments change my mind. No one else was responsible for making me happy or telling me what I liked. That was my job.