by Ryan King
Chapter 3 – Roadblock
Nathan and his family continued steadily west after leaving the shack. They used a variety of routes, trying to avoid the major highways. Nathan decided to have them turn south in order to avoid the larger cities of Charleston and Huntington, West Virginia. He hadn’t heard anything about those locations, but was unwilling to take a chance they were uncontaminated.
On the roads, they spent most nights in abandoned cars along the road because these afforded shelter and security. Bethany didn't like to sleep away from the boys, but she understood the rationale of having her and Nathan in one car, and the boys in another a good distance apart in case someone surprised them.
The going was difficult after the luxury of the hunting shack. Nathan and his family were walking in the West Virginian Appalachians in late fall, but this was also a blessing. They saw few people and smoke from fires normally warned them when they were getting close to others.
Joshua was visibly relieved when they turned south off the interstate that led through Huntington. He'd been planning on going to Marshal University the next year. Nathan wanted to say something to comfort his son, but didn't have the words.
They followed the Appalachian Trail for a few days, staying in the hiker cabins located at regular intervals along the well-worn path. Nathan, Joshua, and David had always planned to walk the Appalachian Trail. It was going to be his retirement gift to himself and his boys. A couple of more years and they would have spent a long wonderful summer together. The worn trail was now cloaked in an ominous heaviness as if they were trespassing.
Eight days from the shack they came upon the town of Branchland, West Virginia. The checkpoint surprised Nathan so much he almost walked upon the sentries unawares. The men and young boys looked more frightened than aggressive. Nathan spoke to Wendell, the leader and one of the town’s deputy sheriffs. He was courteous enough, but refused to let them enter the town, saying a roving band of thugs came through a month ago stealing their food and gas, looting their shops, and killing one man. Since then, they closed the town borders, “until better times.”
Wendell kindly gave them a milk jug full of cold, earth filtered water and showed them on a battered road map how to backtrack around the town. It was plain that his courteous manner would vanish in an instant if they didn't move along, so they thanked them and departed.
“Toll” points became more frequent, manned by individuals with wild eyes and desperate natures. Nathan could have easily overcome these wretched poorly-armed wraiths, but Bethany usually took pity on them and tried a softer approach. Where Nathan would have likely shot them just to be safe, Bethany gave them a little food and talked to them. Although they pointed farm tools or shotguns at Nathan’s family, threatening to kill them when they arrived, they usually departed with kind words and hesitant smiles.
Nathan was thinking of these encounters as they finished making their way through the deserted town of Fort Gay. It was like many other pitiful towns they saw. Shops were looted, especially liquor stores, and any survivors were hiding. Nathan felt eyes upon him, but kept a steady pace, trusting anyone watching was deterred from aggression by their intentionally visible guns. He spied a bridge spanning a broad icy river through the thick wood line ahead. A road sign told him it was the Big Sandy River, the border between West Virginia and Kentucky.
He stopped and listened, hearing faint talking coming from the direction of the bridge. He did not intend to backtrack again. They needed to get across that river, the weather could turn against them any day now. None of them possessed the energy to waste in extra walking to the next bridge. Hopefully it was simply a group of people looking for a handout in the form of a toll which they justified with “guarding the road,” but Nathan was not willing to gamble with his family by walking up unprepared.
He turned to Joshua and motioned him forward from the rear. “Go find high ground over there and remember the signal, just like the other times. We’ll rally at the last road intersection if things go badly.” Joshua nodded without question and moved off at a run carrying the Weatherby .270 rifle, his long blond hair flying out from under a knit cap. Nathan smiled in approval. Joshua had proven steady and reliable since the incident at the shack.
Bethany and David moved up to Nathan as he crouched near the edge of the road. They all dropped their heavy packs in a ditch and covered them with snow. Nathan quietly told them the rally point and their role in the bridge approach.
Bethany looked worried. “I don’t like you walking up to them alone. Maybe we could go with you.”
Nathan shook his head, “I won’t be alone, and you’ll be there and can cover me if I need help. Believe me, it’s much better this way.” He whispered in her ear, “Don’t worry, I’ll be fine.”
He covered the plan again while he switched weapons with David. Nathan took the shotgun and gave David his M4 assault rifle. Bethany and David crept slowly along the edge of the wood line out of sight. They would set up at a good defensive position where they could provide support to Nathan. With any luck, this would turn out as it had several times before. The men would talk, ask for something in return for crossing, and the family would make it through unscathed.
Nathan waited in the ditch by the side of the road near their gear, giving everyone else time to move into position. He let fifteen minutes pass on his watch and then stood and walked to the middle of the road. He looked both ways, but could not see much. This section of the road was in a curve with wooded hills rising on both sides of him. He took a deep breath and stepped off.
As he rounded the corner he noticed the tall steel structure of the bridge, arching in the middle so that the other end was obscured. He also saw several cars blocking all lanes across the bridge. Six men were visible, only one of them looking in his general direction. They were talking and laughing about something and appeared totally engrossed in doing nothing in particular. Nathan felt unusually nervous and almost slipped back into the woods out of sight, but he knew they needed to cross the river.
He wanted to get as close as possible before the men noticed him, but he did not want to frighten them. Frightened men with guns usually shot before thinking. He walked purposefully and quickly towards the barricade. Nathan felt the presence of his family off to his left and slung the shotgun over his shoulder. It was a Remington 870 riot gun, and the weight felt awkward on just one side, but he wanted to be able to use the shotgun quickly if needed. At the same time he loosened the pistol in its holster on his hip.
Nathan stopped about fifty feet from the road block and stood silently. He was not sure how long he waited, but patience was a trait he had learned over the years. He did not fidget or look around, simply remained still and stared calmly at the men.
Nathan deliberately removed his hat and held it out in his left hand. Part of him wanted to rush the men now and try to kill them all unawares, but he decided to take the more cautious approach.
After what Nathan guessed was perhaps two minutes, one of the men looked in his direction, started noticeably, and yelled out, “Holy shit!” He scrambled to pull up his rifle. The other five men turned quickly to look at him and also grab their weapons, pointing them over the parked vehicles.
One large fellow with a beer belly yelled out, “Don’t you move mister, not a muscle, or we’ll blow your damn head off.”
Nathan remained still and silent, which seemed to confuse the men. The big man spoke again after some hesitation, “You lay that shotgun on the ground slowly, the pistol too, partner.” Nathan hesitated a moment and then complied. He was getting an even worse feeling about this. After laying the weapons down he stood back up with both hands in the air and his hat in his hand in what he hoped was a harmless pose.
The big man seemed to relax a little. “Now walk over here…carefully.”
Nathan started walking and saw the men smile and start chuckling. Instead of being nervous and uncertain about his approach, they now were relaxed and eager. They obviousl
y had something in mind for him. Nathan didn’t like that.
He stopped walking. Big Man’s smile vanished in an instant. “You just keep on walking there friend. I don’t want to have to blow your head off before seeing what kind of goodies you brought us.”
Nathan ignored the order. “I’m looking to cross the bridge; I’ll pay whatever toll you’re asking for.”
The men laughed. “That’s good,” Big Man said. “Because the toll is everything you got. Afterwards we might let you go on your way.”
Nathan smiled slightly himself, “Well in that case, I’ve obviously made a mistake, very sorry to bother you gentlemen, I’ll go back the way I came.”
He walked backwards two steps before one of the men fired a shot which ricocheted off the road to his left surprising the other men as much as Nathan. “You move another step and you’re dead.” Big Man promised him with a shaky voice after cuffing the shooter angrily on the back of the head.
Nathan’s heart sank. This was the dreaded scenario, but the response was already decided. There was only one way out. Nathan breathed a deep breath and then let go of the hat in his left hand.
Before the hat hit the ground, the side of Big Man’s head exploded, followed by the sound of the rifle’s roar from the hill to the left. Nathan felt a moment of pride in his son. Joshua had always been an incredible marksman. This shot was followed by two from the M4 with David hitting another man square in the chest. Bethany also opened up with the .22 rifle. The men forgot about Nathan and dropped behind the cars to seek cover.
Nathan knew this was his only opportunity; he certainly didn’t want to get into a shootout where his family was outgunned and without the element of surprise.
He drew the large hunting knife out of the back of his belt and charged the cars. He was almost there before one of the men peered over a car hood with his rifle. The weapon was pointed directly at Nathan, but the man was so surprised that he froze. Nathan ran around the front of the car and jammed his knife into the man’s eye while grabbing the barrel of the rifle and yanking it away.
He saw Big Man laying dead and another dying to one side. Two other men had not even seen him yet; they were trying to shoot back at David and Bethany from under the cars. Another did see him though, and drawing a pistol, fired at Nathan from about ten feet away. He felt the bullet graze his shoulder as he charged forward grabbing the man’s wrist and lifting the smoking pistol high. He then jammed his knife into the man’s exposed armpit.
Both of the other men on the ground must have heard something because they turned and saw Nathan covered in blood behind them. One scrambled up and started running across the bridge, but only got about twenty feet before Joshua shot him with the rifle. The other man crawled under the car and out the other side where he was met by several carefully aimed shots from David and Bethany.
Then the shooting stopped and silence was soothing. The men were all dead or dying.
Nathan stopped and leaned against one of the cars after gathering up all the men's weapons. He gave his family the signal that he was okay. He almost motioned them to come out of hiding when he heard alarmed cries from across the river.
Damn it! he thought. Why didn’t I think that there might be other men at the opposite end of the bridge? It’s what I would have done. He could hear them running and yelling as they made their way across.
Nathan ran back to the middle of the road, grabbed his shotgun and pistol and sprinted to where David and Bethany lay. He slid in between them saying breathlessly, “Get ready, it’s not over yet.”