by Hunt, Jack
“He deserves to know, don’t you think?”
Tyler never replied to that. He didn’t think about what Andy deserved, at least in terms of anything good. The man had been a thorn in his side for as long as he could remember. Tyler shifted the topic back to Andy’s cancer. “I don’t get it. He could have told me this at the camp. Why here?”
“You don’t remember, do you? You were too young.”
“For what?”
“This place.”
“Oh I remember this place, Corey.”
“Not that. Before then.”
“We never came here.”
“We did, with mom. You were just a toddler. But I remember. I remember them together.” He smiled. “It’s probably the only memory I have of anything good.” He dipped his chin. “For now let’s keep this between us.”
“What happened to ‘he deserves to know’?”
“He will but now is not the time.”
“Then when is?”
“Give him a chance to say what he wants. Hear him out.”
They gathered up what wood they could find and dumped it in the fire pit. Corey circled back for some more while Tyler lit the fire and set up a pot to make some coffee.
“Reminiscing?” Tyler asked as he poked the fire.
“Huh?” Andy replied looking back at him. “Ah, yeah, I guess. I have some fond memories of this place.”
“Can’t say I have,” Tyler muttered.
Golden sparks floated in the air as he stabbed the fire.
“Tyler. I know you and I haven’t seen eye to eye, and…” he trailed off. “I was hard on you as a kid.”
“Please. You’re about twenty years too late for that little speech,” Tyler said rising from a crouched position. He cast a glance back at Corey. “I know about your illness.” He paused looking at him. “Yeah. Corey told me.” He scoffed. “Fate has a wicked sense of humor, doesn’t it?”
Andy frowned.
“Look, you might have got the sympathy of Corey, and who knows, maybe you had some epiphany from God himself now that you’re staring at death’s door, but know this, to me, you will always be an asshole. It would take you another lifetime to make up for the shit you put me through. So, if you’re expecting me to shed a tear, don’t hold your breath.” Tyler scoffed. “Hold your breath? Wow, I can’t help but see the irony in that after what happened out here. But then again, you’ve probably forgotten that, haven’t you? Explained it away in your mind as another one of your rules of survival. Well you know what. I survived. I survived you. You didn’t break me.”
It felt like a load had lifted off his shoulders telling him that.
He had a good mind to drop the whole “mom’s alive” on him but he withheld. It would only give him reason to get angry or seek sympathy and he was done dealing with his mood swings. In some ways, he expected Andy to come back at him with some witty remark about how he’d made Tyler strong, or some other off-the-cuff comment to try and maximize himself, and minimize Tyler, but he never did. He just nodded slowly and turned and looked back out at the water.
“You’re right. I…”
He was at a loss for words. For the first time in over nine years, the great Andy Ford didn’t know what to say. Right then Corey returned with an armful of branches. He dumped them on the fire and smoke billowed in the air. “What are you two talking about?” he asked, his eyes bouncing between them.
“Oh you know, just reminiscing about the good ol’ days,” Tyler said. “Isn’t that right, Andy?”
Andy stayed quiet. Over the next thirty minutes Corey prepared some breakfast, a simple array of beans, jerky and fruit. Once their bellies were full, they sat in the peace and quiet, listening to the water gently lap up against the shore, hearing birds chirp and the wind rustle the trees. Each of them relished the quiet, aware that it would be short-lived. When Andy was ready to talk, he turned the conversation to the situation at hand.
“I’ve never asked either of you for advice, but this is one situation that I never expected to be in,” he said.
“Are you serious?” Tyler asked.
He turned toward him. “Of course I prepare for the unexpected. Different events, scenarios, and outcomes but it’s one thing to do it with your family in mind, another when more lives are at risk.”
“You’re referring to Whitefish?”
“No. Camp Olney. Those people are some of the closest friends I have ever had. I realize in walking away I made a big mistake. The fact they welcomed me back, and stood beside me when dealing with Jude, speaks volumes of their integrity as people, and friends. My life. It’s drawing to an end.” He glanced at Tyler before coughing again into his handkerchief. “I can deal with that. But others. Losing them. I…” He took a deep breath.
Corey leaned forward. “Tell us what you want?”
“I want peace but it’s not going to happen. A war is coming whether we take action or do nothing. I…”
“Spit it out,” Tyler said.
“I’ve made mistakes. With you two. More so with you, Tyler. And, um, I’m not asking for forgiveness, as it’s a little too late for that. Right now I can’t change the past but I can do something about the future. I want to save them but I don’t know how.”
For the first time, both Corey and Tyler were stunned. This was a man who always had an answer for any situation. He didn’t back down nor was there much that scared him. They’d always seen him as this strong, resilient ship, even if misguided. That was why they knew he wasn’t saying he didn’t know how to save them, as it was a simple matter of weighing options and taking the one with the least amount of risk. He was hesitant. Hesitant to lead. Reluctant to make a decision that could be a mistake.
“Wasn’t it you who said the risk of a wrong decision is preferable to the terror of indecision?” Corey asked.
“That was a quote from someone else,” Andy replied. “I don’t have a problem making a decision, I have a problem living with the outcome of it,” he said.
“Do you think we stand a chance?” Tyler asked.
“If there were more of us. Yeah, but…” He gazed out across the water.
“What if there were?” Tyler added.
“What?”
Tyler stepped forward. “More of us… many more.”
“Who? What did you have in mind?”
10
The water was freezing. Erika splashed a bucket of water on Nate’s face to bring him back to the land of the living. She then gave him a couple of slaps. “Hey. Come on now. Wake up.” Nate bolted upright, gasping for air. The world around him came spinning into view along with a flood of memories. Entering the home. His attackers. Bleeding. Then passing out. “You okay?”
Nate rolled over onto his side, coughing and spluttering. Across the floor he saw the two dead men, and another two farther down the corridor. “You think you could have used something other than water?”
She rose from her crouched position beside him.
“We need to leave. There was another guy in the attic. He escaped before I could reach him.”
“Ah well don’t worry about him, I’m sure he won’t be coming back.”
She was now standing at the window, holding down one of the blinds and gazing out. “He might not but the militia will. Shit!” She hurried away from the window. “Come on, let’s go.”
“What?”
“He went straight to them. Three of them are coming this way now.”
Nate scrambled to his feet, and they bounded out of the room and down the stairs. They were about to head out the back when they heard one of the soldiers. Nate grabbed Erika and pushed her into a room and closed the door. They quickly crossed the room and lifted up a window just as the soldiers entered the home. Their boots echoed on the wooden floor, getting louder. Erika was out first, Nate next. They hurried away from the house. No sooner had they got a few feet away than they heard a guy yelling.
“There they are. Hey. Stop!”
Nate cast
a glance over his shoulder before directing Erika to hop over the chain-link fence and seek cover in the rear yard. The fence was at least chest high so as soon as they were over, they dropped to a crouch and hurried to the back of the house. Erika tried the door but it was locked. Hearing the sound of men approaching, Nate eyed the swimming pool. It was covered by a large blue pool tarp. Nate lifted a portion of it and gestured for her to get in.
“Are you serious?”
“Do we have any other choice?”
There was no time to argue. Erika slipped beneath and sunk into the cool water. Seconds after, Nate joined her, bringing the tarp down. He was sure they were made when he heard the soldiers’ voices. “They’re over there.”
Bobbing in the water with only their eyes and nose above the surface, Nate felt Erika grip his hand. Seconds turned into minutes and they could hear two of them above the tarp talking about how they hadn’t seen them, and perhaps the guy was sending them on a wild goose chase.
“He’s a crackhead. Did you see his arms? Or the state of that home?”
“We were told to follow every lead.”
“Well I think we’re wasting our time with this freak.”
Their voices got quieter as they jogged off into the distance. “You head that way.” Even though Nate was sure they were gone, they waited for at least twenty minutes in that pool before he snuck a peek. He looked back at Erika.
“They’re gone.”
Soaking wet, they crawled out of the pool looking like two wet river rats.
“I left the clothes in the house.”
“What?” Nate asked.
“The clothes. In the rush I forgot them.”
“We just went through all that for nothing?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. Did I inconvenience you while I was fighting for my life?”
He blew out his cheeks, and they hurried around the house and across the street, making their way back to the café. Within minutes they were on the roof, and Helen helped them back over. “What happened to you?”
“Don’t ask. We don’t have your clothes. And now, we need some for ourselves,” Nate added.
“I told you it was a bad mistake taking her,” Erika said, no longer able to hide her frustration. She sank down, a look of defeat on her face, her clothes torn by that crackhead.
Helen pulled a handkerchief from her pocket and began dabbing the wounds on Nate’s face. “You need to get this looked at it. It’s bad.”
“You should have seen the other guy,” he replied.
“Look, I hate to be a buzzkill on your sweet reunion,” Erika said. “But we’ve got to move. They’ll see the water trail.”
She thumbed over her shoulder and Helen peered over. “She’s right.”
“Shit!” Nate said hammer fisting the roof of the café.
“Let’s wait until it’s dark,” Helen said.
Nate shook his head. “No, we need to keep moving.”
“Then maybe you two should go on without me. I feel bad holding you up.” She glanced at Erika. Nate knew she was only saying it because of Erika’s comments. He got up and felt a shot of pain go through him from head to toe. He staggered a little and Helen caught him as he lost his balance. “You need to rest,” she said.
“I’ll go,” Erika said. “Just stay here.”
“Erika. No.”
She glanced at him before going over the edge and climbing down to the stairwell.
The odds were stacked against her but she didn’t think she could endure any more of Helen’s nauseating puppy eyes. She would rather be captured. Making her way to the ground, she glanced up for a second to see Nate looking over. “Be careful,” he said. Oh, no, he wouldn’t send Helen out to go find clothes. Not her. Nope. Erika shook her head as she darted across the parking lot, behind Glacier Bank, and then raced over to the next block of buildings. She’d seen a sign for a clothing company by the name of Chill Clothing, that operated out of the building two blocks down. Erika figured there shouldn’t be anyone inside and the chances of finding something for all of them were high. Militia were posted on all the main corners throughout Whitefish. Crouching and darting between stalled vehicles, she made it across to the back of a building and scaled up the fire escape that led to a window above the store to the left of it. A quick glance around and she took the end of the Glock and used it to crack the glass, then unlocked the window and slipped in before anyone could spot her.
Inside she crouched on the floor, staying quiet and listening for anyone. It was a fancy apartment, expensive furniture, the kind of stuff her mother would have bought. Now it was all going to waste. It was silent. After having experienced the same thing in the crack house, she pressed forward slowly. Crossing through the upper floors of the building, out the window and down onto a one-story building which led to the clothing store, Erika moved in, her Glock at the ready. Andy had given both Nate and her a crash course in clearing a house to make sure they were safe when they went out scavenging. She wouldn’t have minded if she had backup but this was the first time she’d gone out alone. Her pulse sped up as she rounded a corner from the living area into the small hall. Stopping for a second, she listened. Still nothing. She figured the occupants were probably out working under the thumb of the militia. Erika spotted the window that would lead out to the roof of the clothing store. She made a beeline for it. Just as she holstered her weapon and proceeded to unlock the window, a dark figure shot out from her right. She didn’t even register who it was until she felt an arm around her throat and began to choke. Clawing at her attacker, she pushed back causing both of them to land hard on the floor. She could see darkness creeping in at the corner of her eyes. Any second now she’d pass out and then it was game over.
Using her nails, she dug into her attacker’s leg and they let out a scream. The grip around her throat released enough that she was able to lunge forward away from them. In one smooth motion she pulled her gun and turned to shoot her attacker when she recognized him. It was Danny, the same guy that had come to Nate’s aid, the same one she’d been introduced to in the hospital before he was discharged.
“Danny?”
“Damn,” he yelled as he gripped his leg. “You need to cut your nails.”
“What are you doing in here?”
“I should ask you the same thing. My mother owns this store. What’s your excuse?”
“Trying to find clothes before you nearly choked me out.”
“The only thing you’ll find in here is cosmetic injections like Botox. Where’s Nate?”
“Two blocks down, on top of the café.”
He coughed and leaned back against the wall. “What’s it like out there?”
“Pure hell.”
“Looks like it. You been running a marathon?”
“Swimming,” she replied.
“Oh, good for you. I’ve been stuck in here hiding away from those assholes out there,” he said shuffling across the floor and peering out the window.
“Where are your parents?”
“Out there. They told me to wait but I get the feeling they aren’t coming back.”
“Probably not,” Erika replied as she rose to her feet. Danny scanned her body. “You mind?” she asked.
“Oh I was just wondering if you were my mother’s size. It might save you from breaking your neck trying to get into that store.” He got up and led the way into his parents’ bedroom. It was a simple room, tidy, white, the kind of bedroom that might have been seen in a home décor magazine. White fluffy pillows, accented by patterned ones, high-end furniture.
“Your mother has a taste for the finer things in life.”
“That she does,” he said pushing open a door that led into a walk-in closet. “Here we go. Knock yourself out.”
“Thanks.”
He stood there leaning against the door.
“You think I could get some privacy?”
He smirked. “Oh. Right. Yeah, sure.”
He backed out and closed the
door behind him. On either side of the room were clothes on hangers, and then on the floor, more than fifty pairs of shoes. Erika snagged out a few items and held them up to her body to check on sizing before stripping down and sliding into a figure-hugging long-sleeved top, and a pair of jeans. The jeans were a little on the tight side but they were dry and warm and right now that was all she cared about. She slipped out of her water-soaked boots and tossed her socks. She was just in the middle of trying out a pair of sneakers when Danny knocked on the door.
“Yeah?”
“You hungry?”
“Famished.”
“I’ll get you something.”
As she tucked a few items in a bag for Helen, she spotted a gun case. It was locked. Scooping it up she took it out and laid it on the bed. Danny returned with a plate of jerky. It was the staple diet of survivors, that plus fruit and veggies.
“You got the code for this?”
“Nope. My parents are a little high strung when it comes to things like weapons. Besides, you look like you already have one.”
“Yeah, except it probably functions better as a water pistol now,” she said.
Danny frowned then chuckled. “Oh, right, yeah.” He sniffed hard. “However, I do know where they store the bullets. If you can get into the case, feel free to have it.”
“What about you? You got any weapons?”
“Hell yeah. Not guns but I’ve got some gnarly shit. Come, I’ll show you.”
He headed out of the room and she followed, munching down jerky like a starved animal. Danny’s bedroom was typical for a teenager. A desk with a computer tucked in the corner. On the wall, a small flat-screen TV. Drapes were pulled closed giving the room a depressing appearance. Posters of bands, movies and young women lined the walls. There was a bass guitar at the foot of his bed, and an empty box of pizza sticking out from under a pile of dirty clothes. It reeked like armpits. Danny opened his closet and reached inside. He pulled out a bowie knife. “My parents don’t know I have it. I use it for hunting mostly but after the shit I’ve been through in this town, I’m taking this.” He went back into the closet and came out with a five-foot pole with a blade on either end. It had been wrapped with black masking tape. He spun it around a few times. “This is my latest invention.”
