“If you don’t mind me staying in the shop, I’d be glad to come down and stick around at night,” Hugh offered. “I don’t think you’re going to run into any trouble but it would be an extra set of hands if something did happen.”
“That’s a kind offer,” Jim said. “I appreciate that, Hugh.”
“I’m down here most of the time anyway, helping with the crops. I could help Pete and Charlie with the firewood situation if they had any trouble. I’d just need to head up to my place every so often to make sure the bears aren’t wrecking the joint.”
Jim looked at his wife, raising an eyebrow to see if she was willing to consider the offer. The fiery look in her eyes said this was far from over.
“You and I have some talking to do in private, Jim Powell.”
He understood it wasn’t over yet. “In this case, our private business affects all these people. That’s why I asked them to be here.”
“I get that, but are you seriously planning on a three-month camping trip in the woods by yourself? I won’t hear from you? I won’t know if you’re dead or alive? How do you think that’s going to affect your family?”
“Any means by which I could check in with you only presents further risk. If I come back to visit, I risk being seen. If I get within radio range and reach out to Hugh, I risk being heard. I feel like if I go, I have to stay gone until the weather turns colder.”
When Ellen replied, there were tears in her eyes. Her cheeks were flushed. In those indications that she was conceding, Jim found no victory. He felt awful. He was again reminded that the actions he’d taken had led them all to this point. This was his fault.
“As shitty as the last year has been, there have been good parts,” Ellen began. “We weren’t buried in our individual lives. It used to be that you were always at work or working here on the farm. The kids were engrossed in electronics. I was either at work, running them all over the place, or trying to keep the house from descending into chaos. The highlight of this whole mess is that we’ve been a family again. We’ve worked as a family and we’ve rediscovered each other. One day the world will get back to normal but we’ve had this time that no one can take away. Despite the challenges, I’ll always remember that as a gift.”
Jim was nodding as she spoke. “I get it. I’ve felt the same way. It’s like we were transported back to a simpler time. I’ve enjoyed parts of it too. You and I talked about that in the beginning. I felt a lot of guilt because in some ways I wanted the world to reset. Then, when it did, people died. People suffered.”
“You didn’t cause the world to reset, Jim,” Hugh said. “I wanted it too but I’m no more responsible for it happening than you are. This was terrorism and we weren’t the terrorists.”
Jim smiled at the irony of Hugh’s words. “Some people seem to think I’m a terrorist now. They hunted me down like a terrorist. Some would like to see me executed like a terrorist.”
“That will fade over time, Jim. In our grandparents’ day, and even before that, when people got into trouble they often had to go away until things cooled off. It was the way things were done,” Hugh said. “My mom’s grandfather shot a man who pulled a knife on him at a barn dance at Finney. It was justified but his family wanted to kill my great-grandfather. He went to Cincinnati and lived for a couple of years before coming home. He got some hard looks when he came home and there were some words exchanged, but the fire had burned out.”
“This fire may never burn out,” Jim said.
“There are things you can change and things you can’t change,” Hugh said. “You can’t control whether this fire ever burns out or not. If you want to get out of here for a while, I fully support that decision. I’ll do whatever you need me to do.”
“I appreciate that.”
Hugh gestured at Pete. “Let’s get out of here for a while and let the grown-ups talk.”
Pete got to his feet and Jim noticed that he seemed taller than he had even a day earlier. He was at that stage where kids changed fast, beginning to resemble the adult they would become.
“You a kid too?” Pete asked Hugh.
Hugh winked. “Always, bud. I’m never getting old.”
When they were gone, Jim got up and started pacing. He was never good at sitting when there was thinking to be done. He was startled when Ellen shot up from her chair and flew at him, arms wide. She wrapped them around him and held him tight, her face pressed against his chest. Jim held her there, feeling her tears soak through his already damp t-shirt, warm against his skin.
“This is a shitty idea, Jim.”
“Do you have a better one?”
“No,” she said, the words distorted by her anguish.
“Do you understand why I need to do this?”
“Understanding doesn’t help. It doesn’t make me feel any better.”
“I’m not sure I have it in me to make you feel better about this,” Jim said. “I only know that I couldn’t live with any of you being hurt because people were hunting me.”
“That stupid drone may not mean anything.”
Jim shrugged. “Yeah, but it might mean something. If I’m back in a few months, I can stay on the farm all winter and do a lot of my work outside at night. Who knows what things will be like by the time warm weather returns next spring? Maybe there will be enough order restored that people won’t care about me anymore.”
Jim fell silent, not believing the words even as he said them. He didn’t feel confident in the restoration of order and what that might mean for anyone’s safety. He had no faith in things ever being the way they used to be. It all depended on who was left standing when the powers in Washington finished their game of dodgeball.
“I’m going to head over to Gary’s place in a few. I want to let him know what’s going on. On the way back, I’ll track down Randi and let her know the deal.”
“Well, if I can’t talk you out of it, when are you going to leave?”
“Tomorrow night,” Jim said. “I’ll ride out around dark. That gives me tonight and tomorrow to get my supplies in order.”
“Where will you even go?”
“I want to get up on Beartown Mountain and scout out a bugout location for us in case we absolutely can’t stay here any longer. I’ll probably head to Laurel Bed Lake from there. After that, I don’t know.”
Ellen nodded against Jim’s chest, her head bobbing slightly. “Okay.”
“I need you to be strong. I need you to help the kids feel comfortable with this. I’ll need your confidence to get through it because it’s going to be tough on me too. There will be a lot of time to think. Too much time to think.”
“These will be my last tears for your decision, Jim Powell. From this point, it’s all about counting the days until you’re home again.”
Jim hugged his wife harder, trying to wring those last tears from her.
4
The Valley
The next morning, Jim was up early squaring away his gear. He’d made his visits yesterday to Gary’s family and to Randi. Both promised to regularly check on Ellen and see if she needed anything. Jim had no doubts that this was the case. With gardening season in full swing, his clan interacted daily. They’d started gardens at each house, utilizing the old garden spots that the previous residents had used for decades. They all pitched in at each other’s houses, finding that working together made the days go faster. Weeding and watering weren’t such drudgeries when you could carry on a conversation to pass the time.
Jim had decided the previous night that he’d be taking a horse and a packhorse. They had several animals now. Some had been found wandering in the hills, starving and covered in burrs. Others had been taken in skirmishes over the past year. Having a horse would allow him to travel faster and live more comfortably than if he was attempting this journey on foot. He’d be able to carry spare ammo for his weapons and take a few conveniences.
He didn’t have any traditional saddlebags or horse packs, but he had a couple of high-vol
ume packs they’d taken off the dead. He’d found an English riding saddle in an abandoned barn and used that as the basis of his system. No one wanted to ride with that saddle so he might as well adapt it into something useful. He hooked the two backpacks together at the shoulder straps and affixed them to the saddle. They would ride high and balanced on the horse, the saddle keeping them from sliding to either side.
Being an organized and methodical packer, Jim had the items he was taking laid out on the porch so he could see everything before he packed it away. He was constantly weighing which items he’d need and which he could leave behind. He had water filtration and plenty of cooking gear, including a lightweight grate from an old charcoal grill that he could cook over. He even took a cast-iron skillet, something he’d never carry on a backpacking trip. He had a small jar of lard and hoped to find some fresh fish or rabbits to cook. He had a tent, a hammock, two tarps, and plenty of rope. There was an ax and a machete. There was a fire-building kit with plenty of tinder and several methods of getting a blaze going.
Jim was taking the M4 he carried each day. He had a cleaning kit and a spare parts kit for it. He took a lot of loaded magazines and five hundred loose rounds. They were heavy and he split them between each pack but it was the minimum amount he felt comfortable taking. If he needed more than that, he’d have to make a trip home to restock. He carried his Beretta 92 because he was comfortable with the weapon. He’d carried it for years before the Army ever adopted the M9 and he never had any issues with it. He only had a couple of spare mags for it but he carried several boxes of ammo.
After a lot of waffling, he decided to wear his plate carrier with the plates in it. A man on a horse was a tall, visible target and there were a lot of people out there who’d kill a man just to see what he was carrying. Armor wasn’t a guarantee of survival but it would allow him to breathe easier.
Fixed across the front of the plate carrier was a handgun Jim didn’t usually carry unless he was backpacking. It was his 10mm Glock 29. It was a decent weapon for black bears and the mountain he was ascending was thick with them. Although Jim had hiked all over the eastern US, the majority of his scary bear encounters had been in the mountains close to home. After dealing with one persistent bear that refused to go away, Jim had purchased the 10mm to carry with him on future trips. He had two boxes of heavy cast bear loads for the weapon and they were going with him.
He packed a set of good binoculars and some of the military nightvision they’d liberated in battles with better-equipped men. It was a far sight better than the “toy” nightvision he’d used on his trip home from Richmond. The cheap stuff was better than nothing but you couldn’t walk or fight with it.
Jim was checking his spread of gear against his written list when he heard whistling in the yard behind him. He found Lloyd ambling toward him and, oddly enough, he wasn’t carrying a musical instrument slung over his back this time.
“What’s up?” Jim asked.
“I’m going with you.”
Jim was taken aback. “Excuse me?”
“I said I’m going with you,” Lloyd repeated. “I’m going stir crazy in this damn place. Randi told me you were getting away from here for a few months and I want to go.”
“Why?”
Lloyd took a seat on the steps, leaning back against a porch post. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the tail of his shirt. “This has been hard on me. Harder than I’ve let on. At the barbershop, I saw people every day. I was talking to people all day. Several nights a week I was out there playing music and meeting more new people. I’m not used to sitting around by myself. I’m used to having new blood and I’m going nuts.”
Jim considered his friend’s words. “This won’t be an easy trip. There will be months of camping, dealing with the bugs and the weather. There may be trouble.”
“I can deal with the trouble if I’m out there doing new things. It’s eating at me here. I hate this feeling of sitting around waiting for the next shootout. I hate having to be on guard against attack all the time. As I’ve said many times, I’m a lover and not a fighter.”
Jim grinned. “I thought Randi said you were neither.”
“Any response I could offer would be ungentlemanly and therefore I’ll let that pass.”
That cracked Jim up. “What does she think of this idea of you going off on an adventure with me?”
“She gets it. She understands I need the break. She also thinks we’ll both have a better chance of surviving if we go as a team.”
Jim gave him a doubtful glance. “I’m still waiting for the part about how hauling your ass along with me improves my odds of survival. You drink too much and train too little. Just what do you bring to the table?”
“Companionship,” Lloyd said. “I can also pull a shift if we need to keep watch.”
“So far you’re running neck and neck with a dog. That all you got?”
Lloyd screwed up his mouth as he searched his mental resume. “I can provide comic relief. I’m well known for my sense of humor.”
Jim conceded the point. “Okay, maybe you’re slightly better than a dog but your impression of your sense of humor is over-inflated. You’re funniest when you aren’t even aware of what you’re doing.”
“In other words, when you’re laughing at me and not with me?”
Jim smiled and pointed at him. “Exactly!”
“That doesn’t lessen my contribution to the expedition, does it?”
Jim considered. “I guess not.”
“Then can I go?”
“I’m leaving at sundown tonight. You’ll need to be ready then if you’re going. Pack carefully and make sure you have everything you need. I’m not babysitting you. If we get up on that mountain and you aren’t prepared, you can march your happy ass back home.”
“Are we walking or riding?”
“Riding.”
“Can I borrow a horse?”
Jim sighed deeply. “Yes.”
“And a pack?”
Another sigh. “Yes.”
Jim led him across the yard to the storage building that the family called The Daddy Shack. There was even a sign on the door to that effect. It was where the family stored their camping and outdoor gear. Despite the fact that the family was using much of their camping gear to survive everyday life now, the contents of the building had not dwindled. In fact, there were piles and piles of gear stacked in the building. The spoils of war.
Life in the valley had not been peaceful. They had fought off invaders intent on stealing cattle. They had fought off bounty hunters there to kidnap Jim for the reward. They had killed United Nations soldiers and private military contractors in their mission to flood the power plant. With each fight, they collected weapons and ammunition, they collected coats, packs, and gear. Everything was split between the various families of the clan and this was where Jim kept his loot.
He sorted through a stack of backpacks and selected one for Lloyd. It was high volume but cheap. It wouldn’t matter so much since he’d be strapping it to the back of his horse and not wearing it on his shoulders. Jim handed the pack over to his friend, then tugged a thick garbage compactor trash bag off a roll.
“You can’t trust the waterproofing on a pack like this. Line it with this bag to keep your gear dry.”
Lloyd shoved the plastic bag into the pack and held it aloft, like a victory trophy. “Thanks! You won’t regret it.”
Seeing Lloyd’s excitement made Jim feel bad about giving him so much shit, but he wanted to make sure Lloyd knew what he was getting into. This wouldn’t be a picnic, but Lloyd didn’t seem to care. Jim had to admit he liked the idea of having a companion on the trip. It would make things a bit less lonely. It might keep him from becoming too pensive and depressed.
He had to be careful and not give the impression he was excited about the trip though. Ellen would be pissed if she got the idea he was going off on a fun adventure and leaving her to take care of things. While he was excited on one leve
l at getting out of the neighborhood, this would not be a vacation. It would be an uncomfortable throwback to his trip home from Richmond when he was constantly consumed with fear for his family’s safety.
His only comfort was in the fact that his friends and family had grown in their level of preparedness since then. They’d all become warriors. From his children to his wife to his parents, from Gary to Randi to Charlie—they were all survivors who could think on their feet and handle any situation life threw at them. Except for Hugh, of course. He’d always kind of been that way. Years ago, when the world was still peaceful, he was always a little too intense. Now there was no one Jim would feel more comfortable entrusting his family to.
5
The Valley
As the sky reddened with the sunset, the hazy August evening glowed with golden light. Everything took on that magical quality that kept you outside, unable to tear yourself away from the closing of the day, the end of the show. The air was still and the creatures of evening were coming to life. Frogs chanted from the creek. Crickets sawed at their own symphony. Owls hooted from scattered perches on the mountainside, their sound traveling like an accusation.
A fire crackled in Jim’s fire pit, Pete feeding in small branches in an effort to drive the bugs away. The river brought its blessings and its curses, mosquitoes being among the latter. It was a somber moment. They were waiting for Lloyd’s arrival. Randi had walked a horse up to his place earlier.
“If we have to wait on him to carry his stuff down here he’ll never show up,” she complained. “He’ll fall over and get stuck on his back like a turtle.”
Her daughters were at home with her grandchildren. It was the same with Gary’s family. Only Gary and his son-in-law Will came to see Jim off. This wasn’t out of any animosity or lack of concern. Both families felt it was a personal moment, a goodbye that those less connected with Jim had no business being part of. Jim would have been fine with it either way. He wasn’t a people person but, for better or worse, they were all bonded now. They shared even when it was uncomfortable.
The Borrowed World Series | Book 8 | Blood & Banjos Page 3
