“You own all this land?” James asked, following him as they approached a path that went down into the woods. Birds chirped around them as trees swayed in the cool breeze of their sunlit morning.
“Some of it,” Larry answered, with his arms outstretched to the back yard and beyond the cabin. From where they stood, James could see his bedroom window and the tiny window in the kitchen. Every so often, something scurried from under the cabin into the nearby bush. “Bought it through a business associate of mine a couple of years ago, a native American man. Much of the land used to belong to his people.”
“Where'd they all go?” James asked.
Larry turned to him with blankness in response. “I'm not sure. I never asked.”
He turned and continued down the path away from the cabin and farther into the woods. James followed and kept a brisk pace down the slope and consumed with the quietness of nature. Larry led him through a descending curved path where he could see more hills below. A dead tree lay across the ground below, its bark colorless and not a branch attached.
They reached what seemed to be the bottom of a hill and walked a narrow dirt path on flat ground. Larry seemed to know exactly where he was going. He no doubt planned to call the forest home for the time being. For James, it felt like nothing more than a nature walk. With a shred of irony, he thought of how he was supposed to stay at a retreat cabin that weekend anyway, just not the one he was at. And certainly not under the same circumstances. Larry gradually stopped and then turned to his side, stroking his beard. His attention was focused into the woods where endless trees, large and small, extended as far as James could see.
“You see something?” James asked.
Larry stared ahead for a moment before responding. “Nah. I was just wondering where that old campsite used to be.”
James knew nothing of what he was talking about and simply nodded along. “Do you get many people out here?”
“Not if we're lucky,” he answered. “We might run into a camper or hiker. But with everything going on, I wouldn't expect to see anyone on a leisurely stroll. We have to be vigilant, regardless.”
“Agreed,” James said.
They couldn't have been more isolated in Larry's remote cabin. The most James believed they had to worry about was roaming wildlife. The facade of their surroundings gave a sense of comfort and security. He only hoped that it'd last.
Larry resumed his walk as James continued beside him. He could hear running water in the distance of the creek not yet visible. The straight path soon led to an embankment which appeared to be natural. Below it ran the creek with water glistening in the sunlight only a few feet deep. They moved down the slope across a bunch of rocks and stopped at the edge of the creek. It stretched for about twenty feet across where the forest continued upward in rolling hills.
Larry knelt and dipped his hand into the water, swishing it around. “This is the blood that runs through the veins of this place.”
James stared into the small, rippling waves of water flowing past them. Stone in hand, Larry rose and skipped it across the water, nearly to the other side. “Good fishing here.” He then pointed across the creek to the other side. “Carol and I once camped right over there before we bought the cabin. Sort of just fell in love with area soon after.”
James burrowed his heels into the pebbled ground and squatted. He cupped his hands and splashed the cool, refreshing water into his face. “What's the water system for the cabin?”
“We're connected right into the springs. Cabin has damn near everything you could need in our current situation..”
After splashing some more water onto his face, James stood up and stretched his arms. Larry turned and continued beside the creek in a leisurely stroll. James walked along the pebbled ground, observing the reddish-brown leaf-covered branches of maples, pines, and oaks around them. Willow Creek stretched from one end to the other in a straight, flowing body. The fresh water looked inviting enough to dive in, but he knew that they had work to do.
Larry came to a stop upon a shaded area off the embankment that overlooked a wondrous green valley below. The land sloped inward from between two mountainous ridges. There were tall, wavy grass amid bedrock and pine trees. James had seen nothing like it. They looked to be on the cusp of a wilderness paradise. Larry leaned against a tree, basking in the scenery. James reflexively searched his pocket for his phone, wanting a picture. He stopped and reminded himself once again to forget about his phone.
Larry cleared his throat and then motioned toward the valley and all around them. “This area is good living. We're blessed to have found it.”
“It's beautiful,” James said in agreement.
“There's a fair amount of work to be done out here as well,” Larry then began in a more serious tone.
James knew the discussion was coming sooner or later that day. It was one of the main reasons they'd been brought out there. Larry had been upfront about his intentions from the beginning, and it only made sense. Larry and Carol would provide shelter in exchange for labor. Larry began counting on his hand. “There's hunting, skinning, fishing, peeling, cooking, gardening... you name it. We're living off the land out here, James.”
“I'll try my best,” James said.
Larry turned to him with a stern finger in the air. “All those emergency perishables we brought are a last resort.”
James nodded as the seriousness dropped from Larry's face, followed by a slight concession. “We'll ration a little at a time, but that's it. Much of our sustenance comes from what you see around us. Everyone pitches in.”
“How many guns do you own?” James asked, slyly changing the subject.
The question seemed to take Larry by surprise. He studied James, almost suspiciously, and then answered in his usual vagueness. “I have enough. If we remain smart, level-headed, and conscious of one another, we'll make it through this fine.”
James glanced out into the valley with a sigh. There was more on his mind, and he wondered how much he should get into now. “Do you have a map of the area?” he began. “I was curious about where the nearest town was.”
“Course I do,” he answered, eyes forward. “Nearest town's Winslow, and it's five miles west.”
The town's name had eluded James. It must have been small, but he still wanted to see it, regardless. As if sensing this, Larry stepped into his path with another stern warning. “I'm only going to say this once, don't venture off without letting me know. And stay away from populated areas. That's the rule.”
James opened his mouth, only to be cut off.
“Because you could be followed,” Larry answered for him. “Rules keep us safe. Rules keep us alive.”
James wasn't thrilled about the idea of not exploring their surroundings, but he kept his thoughts to himself. As they continued walking, he then let Larry in on his overall plan, hoping to establish an openness between them. “We only plan to stay for a week or so,” he began.
“Then what?” Larry said, snapping a twig off a branch.
“We hope that the threat level would go down and we could return home,” James said.
Larry tossed his twig away. “I wouldn't expect that to happen anytime soon.”
James looked at him with stunned disbelief. “How can you be sure?”
For the first time since meeting Larry, James began to doubt his judgment. To spend weeks on end, hiding in the woods with no real understanding of what's going on, was absurd. Larry stared out into the valley. “I never claimed to have all the answers, James, but when I make a plan, I stick to it. I owe Carol that much.”
“You've got a working car,” James responded. “Why not take it across state lines?”
Larry just shook his head. “It's that kind of thinking that creates unnecessary risks.” He paused and stepped closer to James. “The roads are hazardous. I'd either get jacked for my vehicle or mobbed. We don't know how far this thing has spread or how long it's going to take to fix. And until we know, we stay
here.” His words stopped with a growing anger in his tone.
“I understand,” James said.
“Then why not stick to the plan?” Larry asked as though he was hurt by the idea of their leaving.
James thought to himself for the answer but couldn't come up with a satisfactory response beyond feeling homesick. He wanted his life back. He wanted normalcy, and the sooner the better. “Because we have family and friends out there,” he finally said. “And we want to make sure they're safe too.”
“So do we,” Larry quickly said. “I've got two sons out there with no idea on their status. You don't think that's tearing me up?”
“Where do they live?” James asked with increasing concern.
“Pittsburgh and San Antonio. They might be okay, we just don't know.”
“Do they know about the cabin?”
“Sure,” Larry said with a shrug. “Won't do them much good from where they're at.”
James turned toward the creek as a splashing sound followed. He saw what looked like a large-mouth bass, shuttling underwater and swimming between the rocks. He approached the rippling water and saw more fish dart past, scurrying toward the bottom.
“We're kind of friends now, right?” James asked Larry outright.
Larry looked at him with slight confusion. “Uh. Yeah, sure.”
James stared into undisturbed forest just past the creek. “Can I look at your map? I'm just curious about what's out here.” He waited for an answer and then faced Larry, who was staring in the same direction he had been. “Larry?”
“It's back in the cabin. I can loan it to you,” he said, snapping out of his daze.
James thanked him and then tilted his head up, looking into the cloud-filled sky. He hoped to see or hear an airplane or helicopter, anything that indicated an aerial presence and reminder that they weren't completely alone.
Tension Rising
Marla paced the bedroom, trying to get her thoughts straight. James and Larry had been gone most of the day, and she had spent most of her time with Carol. Their hosts were nice enough, and Carol certainly knew a lot, but Marla needed a break. She needed to get away from everyone. They were so confined inside the cabin, four grown adults living together, she didn't know how she could ever really get used to it. But Marla had adapted to situations before. She recalled that studio apartment she had moved into with her mother and three siblings after her parents’ divorce. That seemed like an impossible situation too.
Fleeing the city with a dedicated survivalist to his hideout cabin was newsworthy enough, but she had no way to capture any of it. She missed her news team. She missed every person in her life just as much. She could hear Carol sweeping the floors of the cabin outside her room. Marla had told her that she had a migraine and needed to lie down for twenty minutes or so. It was no lie. She got migraines all the time.
She had spent the morning with Carol, inventorying food rations. Later that afternoon, Carol was to show her the garden out back and how they kept the ground fertile. It was all very interesting, but nothing could quell her desire to find out what was going on in the world. As a local news reporter, the virtual blackout was driving her insane.
Marla sat at the foot of the bed, staring at the wall as a thought occurred to her. Finding their own vehicle would be a challenge, but it wasn't an impossibility. She'd suggest it to James once he returned. Getting up, she walked to the window and peeled back the curtains to look outside. The garden was sizable and had plenty of vegetables that were nearing ripeness. The plowed and evenly divided soil was enclosed in chicken wire.
Beyond the garden was the forest that surrounded them, a ground of leaves, seemingly uncharted, and a small path she saw that led down somewhere. She wondered how safe they really were. They had left their home in such haste without even discussing the risks involved. That was all James's doing. He had made the decision for them. As she observed the peace outside, Marla attempted to move past her anger toward him. She was going to try to make it work. At least for the next few days.
The sweeping had ceased along with Carol's footsteps. Marla went to the door and slowly opened it, looking down the hall.
“Feeling any better?” Carol asked from the bathroom, startling her.
Marla backed away with a gasp, holding her forehead.
“Oh, I'm sorry. Didn't mean to scare you.”
Marla smiled. “No, I scared myself.”
Carol wiped her hands on the towel, studying her with concern. “Would you like some Aspirin? We have plenty of Aspirin.”
“I took some earlier, thanks,” Marla said. “What's next on the agenda?”
Carol pulled at her overalls as though she had been anticipating the answer. “More gardening.”
“Sounds good,” Marla said, following her down the hall. She glanced inside Carol and Larry's bedroom as they passed it. She saw coat hangers on the wall near the neatly made bed.
Carol opened the front door and they walked outside with cool breeze in the air. The trees and their swaying branches offered shade between the drifting clouds. Directly parked in front of the cabin was the pick-up truck and Larry's station wagon, untouched from the night before. They walked behind the house, passing a large blue tank of a device with a hose running at the bottom.
Approaching the garden, Carol put on a pair of gloves and grabbed a handheld shovel from a nearby bucket. She opened the makeshift waist-high gate and stepped in. The garden was set up in an open space of the yard, allowing for direct sunlight to shine upon it. They had a plastic watering can and another bucket of seeds all within the same area. Against the cabin was a rake and shovel. Carol grabbed a small shovel and knelt next to the sweet potatoes, stabbing around them.
“You can start by helping me pick these caterpillars off some of the vegetation,” Carol said, tossing Marla a pair of gloves.
Marla's own experience in gardening was next to nothing, but she was a quick leaner. Carol pointed to some fresh tomatoes in the corner and asked if she could start there. Marla knelt next to them and saw small, black caterpillars, barely noticeable upon a first glance, eating the leaves. She pulled them off as Carol called out to her, “Make sure you kill 'em. Snap their heads off good.”
Marla pulled another one off a leaf with tiny parts already eaten. It looked so tiny and helpless. She winced as she crushed its head with her fingers. Beneath her friendly facade, however, was fear and uncertainty. Their neighborhood had climbed into military trucks the night before. She lost her news team in the chaos of downtown. There was no telling how many people were injured or dead. It was unreal; all of it. But just as soon as she tried to make sense of it, Marla knew there was no point. She had to pretend that the situation was manageable and that they could go on with their lives at some point.
“Hello, ladies,” Larry's voice called out from the bushes. She looked up to see Larry and James walking together. James looked tired and there were smudges of dirt on his cheeks. They had been gone for hours. She assumed that they had gone hiking, because of the backpack on James's shoulders.
“Well, if it isn't the men of the house,” Carol said, standing up. “Did you catch us a nice buck to skin?”
Larry put an arm around her, squeezing her closer. She took her sun hat off and swatted at him in response. “No time for that today. We'll catch something nice by the creek tomorrow.”
James approached Marla with a look of surprise at her dressed-down appearance in an old T-shirt, jeans, and wearing work gloves. He then extended his hand to help her up. “Carol's already putting you to work, I see.”
Marla stood and brushed the dirt off her jeans. “Having a blast. What about you?”
“Larry was just showing me around,” James said. “Took me to the creek and this beautiful valley. It's really nice out here.”
“Oh?” she said, crossing her arms. “Do you think maybe I can see some of it?”
James took her arm, laughing. “Of course you can.” He paused and turned to see Larry help
ing Carol examining their sweet potatoes. “How about a walk through the woods?” he asked with a wink.
Marla scanned the garden before them and nodded. “Sure.”
James led her away from the garden and toward the path into the woods. Larry took immediate notice of their walking away, to which James remarked that they were going for a walk.
“Don't be gone too long,” Larry said in a fatherly tone.
“What time is it anyway?” Marla asked, looking around.
“About 4:30,” Larry answered.
He resumed his work as James and Marla continued down the path under the shade of looming tree branches. James held onto her hand as they traversed down a rocky slope that led to a straight narrow path, seemingly carved from the forest, to lead the way.
“The creek’s just beyond here,” James said.
He was moving fast, but she managed to keep up without a fuss. The dirt path with its sporadic weed patches and gopher holes soon curved and then inclined. Marla felt better the farther they got from the cabin. She couldn't quite explain it. As they reached the top of a hill with the creek below, the answer came to her. She was tired of putting a happy face on everything. She was tired of acting polite and congenial when all hell had broken loose in their city. She didn't know how much longer she could do any of that. The glistening creek below ran far in both directions, flowing like veins. Marla stood, mesmerized, as James placed his hands on her shoulders. She turned to him and noticed him looking around in all directions. He then spoke softly in confidence.
“We need to talk.”
“What is it?” she asked.
He stepped away and leaned against a tree. “Nothing. Just wanted a little chat.”
“About what?”
James scratched his scruffy chin. “Larry has a map. There's a town not far from here. I think I'm going to check it out.”
Hideaway (Book 1): An EMP Thriller Page 7