Beyond the New Horizon (Book 2): Desperate Times

by Conaway, Christine

  “Well, I provided the goods, but Dave set it up.”

  Sam shook his head, repulsed by her words, “Dave traded you for this gun? Is that what you’re saying?”

  Amanda tipped her head down and looked up at Sam. She batted her eyes again. Gina wanted to slap her and had to turn away.

  Against everything reason that Gina could think of to not do it, she knew one of them needed to look at the bodies. If one was another neighbor as Sam thought, they needed to know who the other body belonged to and how he had died.

  Sam nodded as she left the room as if he thought she couldn’t stomach listening to Amanda. Realizing she had no way to see into the dark stall, she went back for the lantern.

  “Can I use this for just a couple minutes?” she asked.

  Sam looked at her, and his face paled. He must have known what she was thinking. He swallowed several times and nodded.

  “I’ll just be a moment, and I’ll leave this door open.” Gina took the lantern by the bail, propped the door open and walked into the stall. Simply opening the top door and looking in was not acceptable. Gina needed to see the bigger of the two bodies up close.

  With the top and bottom doors opened, Gina held the lantern high and went in. She had thought to hold her breath get in, roll the bigger body over, see if she could determine the cause of death and get out. Nothing was as simple as she thought. The stench of death and decay had multiplied with both doors being closed even for the short time that they were. Gina’s breath exploded from her mouth as soon as she saw the man clearly. His face was frozen in a rictus of surprise and pain. Gina wondered if Amanda had even waited for him to die before removing his left arm. It looked to Gina as if it had been ripped away or hacked off with a dull knife. Gina had to assume the man was her husband, Dave.

  Against her better judgment, Gina set the lantern down and rolled the man up on his side. She let his body flop back to the floor when she’d seen what was there. From the size of the exit wound on his chest, Gina was pretty sure he’d been shot in the back. She had seen enough injuries to know that his were catastrophic, but the expression on his weathered face made her wonder.

  Gina stood up, breathing into the crook of her arm, she looked around. A pile of rotting material lay on the ground under what was left of their neighbor. He had been gutted and dressed much like a hunter would do to an animal. Like the deer, John had hung from the tree at the cabin.

  Gina grabbed the wire handle on the lantern, and it came away with a sucking sound. The heat radiating from it had melted the area under and around the lantern. Gina stepped back and away, from the body. One last quick look told her all she needed to know. As she’d looked at him, something wiggled in the back of her mind, but wasn’t released until she’d picked up the lantern.

  The body hadn’t frozen yet. The cold temperature would have delayed de-composure to a certain extent, and freezing would have stopped it completely, but this body was neither frozen nor decayed.

  The light from the lantern showed her something she had missed on her way into the stall. Laying on the ground just inside the door was a rusted machete. Nothing could have forced Gina to pick it up, and she left without it. She closed up both doors and slid the locks into the locked position.

  Gina leaned against the door as if knowing what she had seen had depleted the last of her strength. Weak-kneed, and feeling sick Gina moved to stand in the sliding doorway.

  Through her mouth, she breathed in the cold air, expelling it through her nose to wash away the stench of death. She needed to compose herself and find the right words to tell Sam her thoughts. Right then, Gina didn’t feel capable of talking. She only then realized tears ran down her face. Gina hadn’t noticed when they’d started and wiped them away. She felt as if the smell of death had permeated her clothing and would be with her the rest of their trip as a reminder of the two men.

  Chapter Five

  John jumped up, knocking his camp chair over backward, “What’s the matter?” He asked, his voice panicked.

  Sherry shrugged, “I don’t know. She just said to come get you and to tell you to hurry.”

  “What now?” John grunted as he left the tent.

  “I don’t think it was anything too serious or she would probably have asked for me too,” Journey said.

  “You’re probably right. There hasn’t been another tremor the past few minutes, unless something happened during the last one that we’re not aware of,” Andy looked at Sherry and waited.

  “I don’t think so. Mom was laying down with Nathan, and she sounded excited. She was laughing and talking baby talk to him. Abby and I got the giggles listening to her.”

  “Well, maybe it’s something good then. I never hear Mary laugh. And right now we don’t have a lot to laugh about.”

  Andy tapped his fingers on the table. Journey reached across and stilled his drumming with her hand. “Please? I can’t think when John’s doing it, but I know he has a lot on his mind right now.”

  Andy had the grace to flush, “Sorry. A nervous habit I guess. I didn’t even notice I was doing it.”

  “It’s okay. Now, we need to figure out the food situation and how we can get word to Sam to see if he can find that dynamite.”

  “Knowing what I know now, there’s so much at the ranch we could use. When Matt and I left there, we were just trying to find anyone else who was alive. It was Matt’s idea to come to Carlos. If I had any idea it was going to get this bad…in one of the cupboards in the tack room, there’s a set of walkie-talkies we used for moving the cows around and…”

  Journey butted in, “And also no good without electricity.”

  “Let me finish woman. There’s also a mini solar set up, to recharge them in camp. At this point, we don’t know if they can make it there, let alone if they’ll make it back here. We don’t know anything, but what’s right here.”

  Journey let out a disgusted whoosh of breath. “We do know we are short on food and long on theory. We have to figure it out.”

  They were surprised when John came back after being gone only a short while. He wore a grin when he opened the tent flap. He looked at Sherry, who had slipped over to the stove. “Mom needs you.”

  “She probably wants me to milk that stinky goat. She said Abby and I needed to…take a more pro-active role in doing the chores.”

  “Yup, sounds like something she would say. If you and Abby would take some time and give that nanny some brushing, you might get all that old dead hair off her, and she’d smell better.”

  John’s attitude had changed from frightened or worried, to contented. He had a smile on his face as he added wood to the stove, and it sounded like he was humming under his breath.

  He filled his cup with more of the hot water and sat back in his chair. He didn’t say anything but sat with a stupid grin on his face.

  “Are you going to tell us or should we start guessing?”

  “Andy,” Journey admonished, “Leave him be, we have little enough to be happy about right now, so let him enjoy the little he’s found. And if he doesn’t tell us within the next two minutes, then you can hit him.”

  Andy’s eyes popped open as if he believed she wanted him to actually do it. He shook his head emphatically, no. Journey laughed, “Don’t take everything I say so seriously. I was lightening the mood before I have to dash it back down.”

  “Nathan smiled. A real honest to goodness smile! Not gas pains or anything.”

  “John, he’s what…five months old now?”

  “Six, but honestly, we’ve never seen him smile like that. He’s always just eaten, just vomited or slept. Mary thinks the difference is the milk.”

  Journey nodded in understanding. They had the goats for almost a week, and with the few days on canned goats milk, Nathan had finally made the turn for improvement. Nathan had been on the fresh goat's milk for only two days, but the improvements were already noticeable. Nathan smiling was another step forward.

  Now, if they could fin
d a way to keep the goats properly fed, they would keep Nathan healthy and happy. Another week, and they would begin giving him oatmeal and whatever else they could mash up for him to eat.

  Already Nathan’s smile had brightened someone’s day. Journey decided if they could find one good thing each day, before long it could improve the moral character of the group. Even if it was something, as simple as a laugh, or a funny story it would go a long way to improving their lives. To bolster her thoughts, John’s laughter had made everyone feel a little better.

  As much as she hated to destroy the mood, it was time to deal with reality.

  “John, we really need to deal with the food issue.” with a sigh, Journey added, “Two months. That’s all we’ve got before we run out. Matt hasn’t been able to look for the box of books yet, but I think we need to at least consider the pemmican. We could limit our meals to one a day and use the pemmican to fill in. That should get us into spring. We can’t plant anything until April or May, but we could start some of the carrots, potatoes, pumpkins and turnips in containers. That would give them a head start.”

  She sat, waiting for someone to say or add to what she had said. When no one did, Journey picked up her paper and pen, “If no one else has any ideas, or wants to give any me any insight, I guess I will turn in. Tomorrow we have to deal with this. Food is not going to magically appear on our shelves or the root cellar. If we wait until we are covered in three feet of snow, it’ll be too late.”

  “Wait for a minute Journey, give me time to think.”

  Journey sat back down. She knew nothing about planting or growing things. Mary had a garden in the past, evident by the jars of canned food, but lately, Mary had been occupied with Nathan and hadn’t shown any interest in their food situation. It wasn’t that Journey thought Mary cared any less for the rest of her family but had dedicated herself to Nathan’s survival. Maybe she thought that John would be responsible for the older kids, or that they could fend for themselves. Journey didn’t know where Mary’s thoughts were. She did know that Mary seemed disconnected with the rest of her family. With Nathan’s health issues, now being resolved to a certain extent, Journey hoped Mary would take a bigger role in their food supply.

  John interrupted her thinking when he began to speak.

  “Okay.” Was all he said and looked at Journey as if she should know what he was talking about.

  Journey frowned, trying to think of which issue he approved off and was giving his consent to. “Okay, what?”

  John screwed his face up in distaste, “Okay to making pemmican. The day after tomorrow, I’ll pick out a barren cow and Andy, Ben, and I will get her butchered. Tomorrow, we need to work on adding to the smokehouse.”

  “We need a smokehouse to make pemmican?” Journey reached for the journal, I don’t know why I thought…”

  “No. We are going to have to smoke what we can. We won’t use the whole cow for pemmican. If the weather holds, we may be able to freeze some of it, but smoking will preserve it pretty well, and we can use the dried meat for snacks or flavor stew and soups.”

  “Okay, that’s a start. We need to find the book on survival and see what we can harvest from the woods or plant life around here. At least we could supplement or replace some of our vegetables with wild growth.”

  Journey yawned, she wanted to take the journal to bed with her and read up on the process for making the pemmican. She thought it was a long drawn out process, but wanted to know every thought Carlos had on it. She would also look back through the book for any other long-term survival suggestions. Already she felt better knowing that they were going to take a more hands-on approach than waiting until they’d completely run out of food.

  Journey looked around when she didn’t hear muffled or any kind of conversation between Lucas, Andy or Matt. The three were stretched out on the bunks asleep. She caught John looking longingly at the one he had claimed for himself.

  “Okay. Tomorrow we can take this up again.”

  Journey laughed when she saw the look of relief that crossed his face. She shook her head and left.

  Before she had gone a half dozen feet the glow from the lantern in the tent went out, and Journey found herself walking in the dark. The wind had died down, and the snow had stopped, if it had not been so cold, she would have enjoyed looking at the night sky.

  The stars, without ambient light, looked close enough to touch and if she knew the stars at all, Journey was sure she would see stars never visible until now.

  She had just turned toward the trailer when she heard someone laugh. Journey froze in place and waited to hear it again. The sound was as foreign as she had ever heard. Lucy had never laughed like that before, that she had ever heard and remembered that Lucy and Ben had gone out to close up the goats. Journey remembered hearing Lucy say she wanted to check on the horses and Gus, but hadn’t realized they had been gone so long. Ben and Lucy spent more time alone as a couple than with the group.

  She could see Ben and Lucy silhouetted against the lake water, and watched as Ben put both arms around Lucy. When he bent his head, his intentions were clear, Journey didn’t want to be a voyeur, and turned toward the trailer.

  Journey felt a twinge of jealousy that lasted as long as a second. She knew she should be happy for her friend, and she was, but it seemed like they were no longer the three musketeers, as Gina had once dubbed them.

  With Gina and Sam looking like they were a couple, it made her wonder what was in store for her. Gina had teased her about Andy, but she wondered about their age difference. His touch earlier had sent shock waves and heat up her arm, but she wondered how much of it was circumstance. It wasn’t like he had many choices now that they were all trapped together, and apparently cut off from the outside world.

  Journey had dedicated the last few years to helping veterans and the preceding years before that with nursing school. She hadn’t had enough time for dating or relationships, and she wasn’t into one night stands.

  She didn’t know Gina’s history other than the gossip are the hospital, and until she heard it from Gina’s mouth, she wouldn’t believe any of it. In fact, Sam was the first person Gina had aligned herself with as long as Journey had known her. Then, with Ben and Lucy, that left her as being the old maid. Journey huffed. She wasn’t going to lose any sleep over it.

  Early the next morning, Lucy and Journey were both jolted awake by the sounds of someone whooping and hollering. Rubbing the sleep from her eyes, Journey was surprised to find herself standing on top of her blankets, looking down at Lucy, who was sitting up, looking bewildered.

  “What the heck is that? Or who is it?” Lucy mumbled, clearly not understanding what had awakened her.

  Journey dragged her pants on, slipped her feet into her boots and grabbed her coat, all within seconds of finding herself wide awake. “I am about to find out.”

  Outside, the cold air took her breath away. She buttoned up, her eyes searching for whoever had made all of the noise. She thought it sounded like Lucas, but couldn’t understand all of the excitement. The sun hadn’t risen yet, but the early morning dawn provided just enough light to see her surroundings.

  She turned in a circle trying to see where Lucas was. Stepping further away from the trailer, she saw Lucas and Matt and understood what the ruckus was all about.

  She ran to where Matt and Lucas stood looking up at Gus. Somehow he had gotten himself up on top of the ridgeline of the newly formed cliff behind the trailer.

  “Gus, you idiot, get back down here!”

  He brayed loudly and disappeared from sight.

  “Wow, it was almost like he understood you,” Matt exclaimed.

  “It’s either that or he is running away, so he doesn’t get in trouble,” Lucas replied. “I wonder how he got up there?”

  “I think we are about to find out.” Journey turned to the tree line and waited. They could hear Gus coming through the brush. With the sounds of breaking branches, they saw Gus threading his way through the
bare underbrush.

  “Well, however he got there, he probably came down the same way. You guys want to follow his tracks and see how he did it?”

  Gus came up to Journey and nuzzled her pockets looking for the treats she used to carry there. “Sorry, buddy, not this time.” Journey scratched all around his ears while he rolled his eyes and stretched his neck out, seeming to enjoy the attention almost as much as he would have any of the treats that she used to give.

  He must have spotted the horses when he gave out one of his obnoxious hee-haws and trotted away. Journey turned to see where the horses were and gawked. She turned to get the boys attention, but they were disappearing into the brush.

  “Be careful,” she yelled instead. “Well, son of a gun!” Journey had no idea how it could have happened unless it was the result of the tremor last night, but the lake had drained. The stream that had filled it was still there, but the body of water wasn’t.

  The cows grazed on the land that had, just the day before, been under water.

  Outside the tent flap, Journey asked, “John, are you awake yet?”

  “Who could sleep with all of that caterwauling? What’s going on?”

  “You won’t believe it unless you see.”

  “You don’t have to stand out there yelling. Come on in, we’re decent.”

  Journey relished the warmth as soon as she stepped inside. She hadn’t realized how cold she was until the heat from the stove hit her.

  The trailer was kept warm from the wood stove in it, but it was well insulated, but she wondered how they were going to keep the tent warm when winter finally hit. She didn’t think, no matter how good a stove they had in the tent, it wouldn’t heat more than the area directly around it.

  “Are you going to just stand there or are you going to tell us what’s going on?” He filled a cup and set it on the table. “I made coffee this morning.”

  Andy and Ben were sitting on one side, their hands gripping their cups possessively. Neither looked well-rested, and neither had combed their hair.

  She saw their metal wash basin sitting on the end of the stove with steam rising from it. The shine on John’s face said he had already made use of the hot water, and his hair was combed.