by Poe, S. B.
“Fair enough.” Zachary said. “Oh and since you seem to be out checking on your surroundings, let me give you a little lay of the land as I understand it.”
“That would really be nice of you.” Evelyn said.
“Don’t worry missy, it ain’t a lot. About fifteen miles north of here is Stockburn. The town ain’t there no more. Burned out. The refugee center the same way. Went bad and the guard smoked the place up when they pulled out north. Wouldn’t waste the gas riding up there. You know more about south of here than I do. The only other group of people I heard tell of is a bunch of hippies living up where the Little Oyahusa and the Black Neck creek run together. Some kind of commune or something. Living like Indians. Supposedly got teepees and everything. Now take it for what it’s worth but this boy who lived there told me they was like a cult. Worshiping the poppers or some nonsense. Sounds crazy and I try to avoid crazy in times like these. If I were you, I’d do the same.” Zachary said.
“We’ll keep an eye out. And we’ll avoid Stockburn too. Thanks. I tell you what Zachary..” Bridger stood and slid the chair back under the table. “It sure was good to meet you.”
“You too. And you too missy.” Zachary shook both their hands.
“I guess I won’t say I’ll see ya around.” Bridger said.
“Because you won’t. Have a safe trip home.” Zachary nodded.
Evelyn and Bridger walked to the hummer and Evelyn got in the drivers seat. The headlights glowed against the side of the building in the fading afternoon light. They backed out of the parking lot and headed back towards the interstate.
“That was interesting.” Bridger said.
“You think he was lying, made it all up.” Evelyn said.
“Not sure.” Bridger said and he closed his eyes and listened to the sound of the tires on the asphalt.
A Wide Spot in the Road
The afternoon sun sank to the tops of the trees and the breeze carried just a taste of the coolness the night would bring. Ham pushed through the opening in the honeysuckle and stepped across the ditch, her feet landed on the asphalt.
“Is this the same road?” Ham said. “It doesn’t look the same.”
“We didn’t come out in the same spot is all. I mean how many roads you think run through these woods?” Scott asked.
“There only has to be two, the right one and the wrong one.” Ham said.
“Well, this is the right one.”
“How do you know?”
“I just know.” Scott sounded frustrated.
“Fine, which way?” Ham asked.
“That way.” Scott started walking. He ducked his shoulders as Ham let loose with a shrill whistle. “What are you doing?”
“You said we get to the road, I can whistle. We’re in the road.” Ham said.
“Fine. But we gotta walk too.” Scott said.
The road wound between the trees narrowing in the afternoon sun. The leafless branches cast webs of shadows across the weed dotted asphalt. Footfalls echoed back up to their ears as they made their way. The sound interrupted by the occasional sharp whistle let out by Ham.
“What’s that up ahead?” Ham asked.
“The bridge. I guess it’s a bridge.” Scott said.
“I know that. The sign. What’s the sign say?” Ham asked.
Scott walked over to the side of the road. Piles of black garbage bags, stuffed and split, were stacked around the base of the sign. They were deposited long before the world ended and nature had since started reclaiming the contents. He reached up and grabbed the vine growing up from the piles that wrapped around the green sign at the top. He yanked it off enough to read.
“Officer Pete Mallory Bridge Black Neck Creek”
“There ya go.” Scott stepped back.
“Is that the creek that runs through the town?” Ham asked.
“I don’t know. Maybe.”
“We should follow it.” Ham said.
“No we shouldn’t.” Scott said. “But just because I’m curious, why?”
“Because I don’t think we’re on the right road.” Ham said. “I think you got us lost.”
“I got us lost? I’m not the one that ran off like I was on fire. I’m not the one that kept wandering around in the woods for two hours. I’m not the one that got us lost.” Scott said, his voice rising slightly.
“So you think we’re lost?” Ham asked softly.
He looked around and the creeping feeling he had had for the last half hour overwhelmed him. They were lost. He knew it. Fear and confusion washed over him in an instant. He looked at Ham and saw the same feeling in her eyes.
“We’ll be okay.” Scott said.
“I know.” She replied. “So now what?”
“I don’t know.”
“Opa always said if you’re in a hole the first thing you gotta do to get out is stop digging.” Ham said.
“What’s that mean?”
“It means we can’t just keep walking and hoping.” Ham said. “We gotta figure out where we are.”
“How?”
“I don’t know.” Ham said.
“It’s going to get dark soon. I got some food in my backpack. We need to think about somewhere safe.” Scott said. “Just for the night.”
“What about Cheval?” Ham asked.
“Dammit, Ham I am not going to die for a stupid horse.” Scott said.
“Stupid? She ain’t stupid. You’re stupid.” She turned and started walking.
“Ham, stop. Come on. You’re not going to go off alone so just come back.” He called as she kept walking.
“Dammit” He said again under his breath as he started walking after her.
He swung off the road and grabbed the stick. She could feel him swinging from side to side of the road behind her. Finally she stopped and turned around. He was carrying a bundle of sticks in his hands.
“What are you doing?”
“We’re going to need a fire. I’m gathering what I can while I can still see out here. In a few hours we’ll be in the dark. You can be mad or not but that’s real.” Scott said.
“Say you’re sorry.” Ham said.
“For what?”
“Say you’re sorry for calling Cheval stupid.” Ham said.
“She ain’t here. She won’t know.”
“I’ll tell her.”
“She doesn’t know I called her stupid.”
“She will when I tell her.”
“Are you serious?” Scott asked. She didn’t respond. “Fine. I’m sorry Cheval. Wherever you are.”
“I’ll accept it for now. You got food?” She asked.
“Some. But we need to find somewhere safe.”
“Where?”
“Our best bet is to go back.”
“Back where? I thought we were going back.”
“Not home. Back there.” He nodded over his shoulder. “Back to that bridge.”
“Why?”
“Well we only gotta watch two ways if we’re in the middle of the bridge.” Scott said.
“Plus we can get some water from the creek.”
“Fine.” She said.
“One other thing though.” Scott said.
“What’s that?”
“You can’t whistle once we get there. We need to be as quiet as we can if we’re going to be there all night.” Scott said.
“Fine.” Ham said. She put her fingers to her mouth and whistled long and loud. “Last one.” She said.
“Let’s head back.” Scott turned and started walking, Ham strode up beside him and kept pace. They got to the bridge and Scott dropped the pile of sticks. He looked the road up and down.
“Wait here. Start getting the fire ready or something.” He said as he started on across the bridge.
“Where you going?” Ham asked as she knelt down and started separating the pile of sticks by size.
“Just checking this stuff, see if there’s anything we can use.”
“What stuff?”
“
Old pile of trash I saw earlier.” Scott said.
Scott rummaged through the pile of garbage at the base of the sign. He pulled out a few empty cans.
“What you looking for?” Ham asked from over the pile of sticks she was arranging in the middle of the bridge.
“This.” Scott held up the cans. “We can get water in these and boil it.”
“Gotta get a fire going first.” Ham said.
“Yeah, in my backpack. There’s a little purple bag with a crown on it.” He said.
“My Opa had a bag like that too.”
“My dad gave it to me. My mom didn’t like it because it’s some kind of whiskey or something. I think my dad gave it to me because he got a kick out of irritating my mom.”
Scott said.
“That’s kinda mean.”
“No not mean. My mom always kinda made bigger deals about things than Dad. He kinda liked watching her make a big deal about her ten-year-old carrying an empty whiskey bag. It was just fun.” Scott said. “Didn’t your folks pick at each other like that?”
“I didn’t really have a family like that. I remember my mother. A little. I don’t know if I ever met my dad. Opa never talked about it. Opa and Nana were my family until Nana died. And now Opa’s gone too.” Ham opened the bag. She reached in and felt the lighter. She pulled it out.
“There are some cotton balls in there too.” He said as he sat down beside her. “And some fishing line.”
“What’s the fishing line for?”
“Watch.”
He took the fishing line from her and pulled out his hunting knife. He punched a small hole towards the top of the can and ran the line through it, tying it off. He stood up and walked to the edge of the bridge and lowered the can down to the water, letting if fill. He raised the can back up, winding the line back on the spool as he went.
“Here, pour this into that one.” He handed her the can and after she poured out the contents, he repeated the process.
“Hand me those cotton balls.” He said.
He pulled one out and stretched it apart. He laid it among the small pile of twigs and lit it. The twigs caught quickly and Ham steadily fed the larger and larger branches until the fire was strong enough to sustain. Scott slid the cans next to the heat and let them sit.
“I guess we can eat. I only got a couple cans. We can split one now and one tomorrow for breakfast.” Scott said.
“Let’s wait as long as we can.” Ham said.
“I thought you were hungry.”
“I am. But I think it’s going to be long night.”
“Well let’s go gather more wood before it gets dark. We don’t have much time.” Scott said.
“What about the fire?”
“Let it burn. We need to let the water boil, anyway.” He said.
Scott leaned against the guardrail. He could hear the water bubbling below him as the creek made its way under the bridge. The fire popped the occasional spark but had settled into a dull orange glow that lit the area of the bridge they occupied but no further. The moon was half full but low in the sky. There was a clear sky so everything was lit by the dull glow of starlight. The occasional sound of frogs protesting the coming fall rang down the creek. Ham dozed next to the ambient heat of the fire. Scott shifted his seat and saw one of her eyes spring open.
“You awake?” He said.
“I wasn’t asleep.” She said. “Were you asleep?”
“No. Just sitting here, listening.” He said.
“To what?”
“Nothing. And I hope it stays that way. You ready to eat?” He said.
“Sure.” She pushed herself up into a sitting position. “Chicken?”
“Yep.” Scott pulled one of the cans out of his backpack.
“Got a can opener?”
“Pull top.” Scott said.
“Nice.” Ham said.
He popped the top and the smells of roasted salty chicken filled the air. Both of their stomachs growled in anticipation. He held the can out to her and she plucked a piece and stuck it in her mouth.
“I never ate this before the world ended.” Scott said. “Always thought it was like cat food or something.”
“I ate cat food once.” Ham said. “On a dare.”
“Who dared you?”
“A couple of boys. I was seven and they wouldn’t let me play with their cat unless I ate some of the food. So I did. It was in a bag.” Ham said.
“Dry cat food?”
“I guess.”
“How did it taste?”
“Salty cardboard with a hint of yuck.” Ham said. Scott chuckled.
The moon rose higher in the sky and the woods filled with a dull glow. The sounds of frogs and crickets reached a crescendo as the temperature slowly began to lose the last heat of the day. A low fog stretched across the top of the water slowly flowing below them.
“You think they’re looking for us?” Ham asked.
“I’m not sure. Probably.”
“You think we’ll get in trouble?” Ham asked.
“Nah, they might fuss but when we show up tomorrow, they’ll be all ‘oh we’re so glad you’re safe’ and…”
“Shhh” Ham said. She moved to the side of the bridge.
“What?” Scott whispered as he slid up beside her.
“I heard something.”
“In the water?” Scott asked.
“It sounded like a splash.” Ham said.
Below them, from under the bridge, down by the water they heard a noise. A hard tapping of stones. Tap, tap, tap. Scott slid over to his backpack and pulled out his flashlight.
“Come on.” Scott said. “Let’s see if we can see what it is.”
They used the moonlight to see their way to the end of the bridge. There was a well-worn path down from the end of the bridge down to the water’s edge where generations of teenagers had ventured below the bridge to do what teenagers do. They followed the path down just far enough to see the water below. He flipped on the flashlight.
The raccoon sat back on his haunches holding the rock in his hand. Scattered below him was a smattering of crushed freshwater clamshells. He froze in the light. Scott flipped it off. The raccoon leaned forward and dropped the rock. Scott flipped the light back on and the raccoon sat upright and froze. Ham giggled. The deadun came through the bushes behind the raccoon and fell on it. The deadun bit down into the raccoon and they both tumbled into the shallow water of the creek as the animal scratched and bit the deadun until the thing ripped the raccoon’s stomach open and buried its teeth into the soft parts on the inside. Ham screamed. They both scrambled back up the path and ran back to the middle of the bridge.
Scott could hear the deadun splashing around in the water as it gathered the floating bits of raccoon. It soon became silent.
“You think it’s gone?” Ham said.
“I don’t know. Not going to find out either. We’re just gonna sit here until the sun comes up.”
“That will be hours.”
“You got any other suggestions?” Scott said.
“I guess not.” Ham said. “Back to back?”
“Huh?”
“We can sit back to back and watch each end of the bridge. Come on.” Ham stood and walked to the middle of the bridge. She sat down facing the way they had just ran from. “Here. Sit behind me.”
Scott sat down and they leaned their backs against each other. The night slowly quieted down again and the deadun below wandered further down the creek. Ham could feel Scott leaning harder against her back his breathing became regular. She knew he had dozed off. She was fighting it herself. She elbowed him in the side.
“Ow, what was that for?” Scott said as he rubbed his side.
“You fell asleep.”
“No I didn’t.” Scott said.
“Well then I was making sure you don’t.” Ham said.
“I’m gonna elbow you good when you go to sleep.” Scott said.
“I won’t go to sleep.”
&n
bsp; “You already fell asleep once. You’ll do it again.” Scott said.