by Ellis, Tara
The park where they’d originally stored their things, near the small town of Honeyville, had become a sort of refugee camp. With the temperature around a hundred for several days and no running water or power for air conditioning, some residents were also turning to the park and had started to clash with the drifters.
Danny wasn’t surprised things were coming to a head, it just would have been nice if they’d gotten out of town first. She reached to extinguish the small candle burning on the dirt floor. She still wasn’t sure how Sam managed to get her down there in her weakened state. Rather than trying to go back through the main part of town, he’d opted to get her as far north as he could. It turned out to be a great refuge, without any windows to reveal their light and a stream close by with fresh water.
“Why are they looking for us here?” she asked, frustrated
Sam cautiously pushed the cellar door open while Danny crept up the steps behind him. Grace whined as the sounds above them intensified and Danny stopped to rest a hand on the dog’s shoulders to quiet her. The last thing they needed was for her to bark.
Sam surveyed the field before waving for Danny to follow him. Thankfully, the storm cellar was behind the barn and the men looking for them probably didn’t even know it was there. “Someone must have seen me earlier when I got your bike.”
Danny fought against a wave of dizziness as she scurried after Sam. They made their way through the field and into a cluster of nearby trees. She leaned against the trunk of a pine and took a breath to settle her stomach.
“You good?” Sam asked. He sounded skeptical and was eyeing her closely while uncovering their bikes.
“Good as new.” She’d been on the antibiotics for almost thirty-six hours and her fever had been gone for twelve. If her nose was a good judge, the meds were knocking out the infection in her arm. She’d be okay, and in a couple of more days she’d have her strength back. Dehydration from the high fever and vomiting was her concern now. Without the option of IV fluids, she had to conquer it the old-fashioned way. She rummaged for her water bottle at the thought and gulped as much as she could stomach.
A flicker of light caught Danny’s attention as she wiped at her mouth and she looked to the south with growing astonishment. “Is the park on fire?”
“They were starting to burn the tents when I left,” Sam replied. “It…was an ugly scene.”
Danny watched as the growing flames licked at the tops of the trees lining the creek. They’d gone insane. If it crossed the water, the rest of the town could burn as well.
“How long do you think it’ll be before we see some sign of the military?” Danny asked as she lifted her bike. The growing chaos was a poignant reminder of the government’s lack of response. She strained to see Sam’s expression in the early pre-dawn light. She’d come to know the older man fairly well over the past five days and she could tell something else was up. “Sam?”
Sam silently straddled his bike and looked over at her. “There might not be much of a government left. I’m not sure who’d be giving the orders, how they’d give them, or how what’s left of the military would organize and deploy.”
They remained hidden in the trees, waiting for the men searching the barn to leave. Danny rubbed absently at her arm, wishing she’d taken some more Advil earlier. “Wouldn’t the military have equipment that was shielded from the EMP?”
“Probably,” Sam agreed. “Although, this wasn’t a normal EMP, and if there isn’t anyone alive to operate what does work, then it doesn’t matter.” He dropped the bike and attempted to walk past her.
Danny stopped him with a hand on his arm. “Talk to me,” she said to Sam’s back.
Shoulders sagging, Sam took an audible breath before turning to face her. “There’s a rumor going around…from more than one source, according to the person I talked to tonight, that everyone on the East Coast is—dead.”
Danny recoiled. “Dead? How could everyone be dead?”
“Radiation.” Sam reached out to pet Grace, unable to meet Danny’s eyes. “They’re calling it the flashpoint, the point of impact of the gamma-ray. We were right about where it struck. It was far to the southeast, beyond our continent. But we’re over two thousand miles west of the coast, Danny, and apparently that distance makes a big difference in the amount of gamma radiation exposure. We might have mild illness, but the eastern half of the country wasn’t as lucky.”
Danny refused to believe that millions were already dead. “How can anyone be sure?”
“Radios.” Sam jammed his hands into his jeans’ pockets. “Ham radios. I guess it’s common practice for enthusiasts to shield their radios. It’s easy to do and they can communicate over long distances.”
Danny struggled to absorb the information. Everyone on the East Coast was dead. Gasping, she dropped her bike and stepped in front of Sam. “Your wife!” She knew they’d been visiting his in-laws on the Florida coast and he’d left early to return for a chemistry convention. His wife was still there. “I’m so sorry.”
“It doesn’t change anything,” Sam said gruffly. “She’d want me to survive. So…let’s survive.”
The door of the barn slammed open and Danny could see two people walk outside. After a few tense minutes they headed in the opposite direction, back toward town. Relieved, she glanced over at Sam and her smile faded when she saw that he was holding the gun he’d gotten at the pharmacy. “Would you have shot them?”
Sam stared down at the gun, turning it over in his hands before sliding it into his back pocket. “Like I said, Danny. Let’s survive.”
Once they were safely peddling up the dirt road that would lead them back to the interstate, Danny looked over at Sam. The sun hadn’t crested the horizon yet, but the intense northern lights were still bright enough that she could at least see his silhouette. “Thank you for taking care of me.”
Sam chuckled. “I figure you’ll probably get the chance to repay me at some point.”
Danny smiled at her friend, although she doubted he could see it. Another wave of dizziness forced her to concentrate on the road in front of her. She’d been taking Zofran, a strong anti-nausea medication, but it made her light-headed. Guilt tugged at her as she thought of the hoard they had stashed in the bottom of her pack.
They’d been lucky to find several useful things in the pharmacy, although there wasn’t very much of it. As a paramedic, it went against her nature to withhold it from other people who needed it just as much as she did. Nevertheless, Sam was right. They were in a fight for their lives and whether it be passive or aggressive, she was already in survival mode.
For whatever reason, not everyone was as sensitive to the radiation as others. Danny suspected it had to do with the immune system and underlying illnesses or conditions. She figured that, given where they were when the gamma radiation had hit, it was mild enough that so long as they could keep some water down while their bodies repaired whatever damage was caused by it, they’d be okay.
Sam’s symptoms hadn’t progressed beyond a mild headache and some nausea. Grace had thrown up twice but appeared to be doing better, despite a bout of whining and whimpering. Danny didn’t dare push things by turning and looking behind them; she knew the golden retriever was back there, plodding along after them. She had amazing stamina.
“We should make it into Idaho by tonight,” Sam offered.
Danny smiled. Idaho. Although it was an imaginary line, it still meant they were getting closer to home. Closer to Mercy.
Chapter 3
ETHAN
South of Idaho Falls, Idaho
“They’re freaking gardening shears, man. It isn’t going to work!”
Ethan cringed as spittle flew from Billy’s mouth and spattered on his forehead. He resisted the urge to wipe at it and instead concentrated on the task at hand. It had somehow become his responsibility to free Decker and Billy from their shackles. Well, pretty much everything was his job. Including caring for the horses, starting a fire, tending the fi
re, cooking all the meals, cleaning up, packing…and stealing whatever the convicts told him to.
They were kneeling in brown, brittle grass surrounding an old barn. It was early morning and the sun was just starting to paint the tips of the trees at the edge of the sprawling farm. They’d come upon it in the middle of the night and stopped next to a pond to sleep. As soon as Decker woke and saw the tool shed, he’d sent Ethan looking for something that might break the chains.
Ethan gave in and wiped at his forehead when a bead of sweat mixed in with the spit, and was rewarded with a slap to his ear from Decker. The bigger of the two men was also the smarter and meaner one. He enjoyed intimidating both Ethan and Billy, and Ethan’s ear was raw and bleeding from the number of hits it’d taken over the past two nights. But Ethan knew it could be worse. It could be a lot worse. He tried not to think of his dad, lying there in the road, shot and unconscious. Was he even still alive?
“Hey!”
Ethen ducked in anticipation which elicited an unsettling laugh from Decker. He hated the man.
“Concentrate, shrimp. Unless you want to wake our hosts up.” Decker drew the Glock he’d taken off the dead guard from the bus and waved it towards the small farmhouse before putting it away again.
Ethan swallowed. He’d been doing his best to keep the two convicts from interacting with anyone else. So far, he’d been lucky. The stretch of freeway they were backtracking was still relatively barren and most of the people they passed were happy to keep to themselves.
They were headed for Pocatello. Ethan had warned Decker that the city was literally on fire, but the man was adamant. His destination was actually a place south of the bigger town, but they still had to go either through it or around it.
The first thing Ethan learned after being taken was that Decker had a poor sense of direction. He didn’t believe Ethan at first when he told the escaped convict that he’d been heading the wrong way ever since he walked away from the bus crash. It wasn’t until Ethan dug the map out and showed him that Decker grudgingly turned south, threatening to permanently silence Billy if he said anything about it.
Ethan made sure to trot Tango in loose soil whenever he had a chance. He knew his dad would track them and since they were on a freeway, horse prints along the side of the road weren’t that hard to spot. He also said hello and smiled at anyone they passed, hoping they might remember him. If his dad was alive, he’d be coming for him.
There hadn’t been much in the way of options the past day, as far as looking for tools. They’d ridden past Idaho Falls in the dark the first night and since then, things had been sparse. As they got closer to some other, smaller towns, the fields were becoming dotted with more houses and Ethan had known the time was coming when the men would get more insistent on being freed. He stayed awake the first night, waiting for an opportunity to run, though it never presented itself. Last night he’d been too tired and fell asleep. Now, if he somehow managed to get their cuffs off, he’d probably never get away from them on his own.
“You try, Decker!” Billy urged. “The kid isn’t strong enough.”
Decker grunted and shoved Ethan aside, knocking him onto his back. A rooster crowed and he looked nervously at the farmhouse. He wasn’t sure what the men would do if they were confronted by someone. He’d tried at first to stay in the barn, but it was too dark in there to see what they were doing. Although, that also had its advantages.
“Ugh!” Decker grumbled. He threw the shears, now in two pieces, onto the ground.
“You broke ’em!” Billy wailed. “Man, it didn’t hardly even dent the chain.”
“Shut up!” Decker yelled. He strode over to a wood pile up against the barn and pulled an axe from a stump. A ray of sunlight glinted off the sharpened blade as he made his way back with it. “You want ’em off?” He lifted the axe. “Then stick your hands out, Billy! Come on!”
Billy scooted backwards in the dirt; his eyes wild with fear. “You’re crazy! Get away from me with that. You’ll miss and cut my hand off!”
“Then I won’t have to listen to you moan and complain about it anymore!” Decker swung the axe, and Ethan thought he might actually do it, but it struck the ground at the other man’s feet.
“What’s going on out here?”
Ethan’s stomach went cold when he saw a middle-aged man coming down off the porch of the house, a rifle in his hand, although it wasn’t raised. He jumped to his feet and tried to intervene. “It’s okay! We’re just leaving. Our…horses needed water.”
The man hesitated and looked from Ethan to the other two rugged men. They’d changed out of their prison garb and into his dad’s spare clothes they’d taken, but their cuffed hands were clearly on display. He started to raise the rifle. “I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you to be on your way.”
Decker took two long steps in the homeowner’s direction, pushing Ethan out of the way and knocking him down again. As he did so, Ethan saw the Glock in his hand. “You wouldn’t happen to have a blowtorch hidden around here somewhere, would you?”
“A blowtorch?” The man looked pointedly at the cuffs on Decker’s wrists, and the gun clutched in his hand, and made a motion to pull the bolt action on the old .22.
“I didn’t think so.” Decker took another quick step to narrow the distance and then shot twice, dropping the man before he’d completed the action. His body fell silently, an almost gentle gesture that added to Ethan’s confusion. How could a man’s life be taken with such little fanfare?
“No!” A woman had appeared in the doorway, a small boy at her side. “What have you done?”
Decker pulled the rifle out of the man’s hands, ignoring the woman. Turning away from her, he walked purposefully back to Billy. Handing him the rifle, he then bent over and yanked the axe out of the dirt. “Let’s get going.”
Ethan crawled over to the man’s still form and placed his hands on his chest. He wasn’t breathing. He sat back and wiped at his face, leaving a streak of blood on his cheek. The woman and child had reached them and were trying to roll the man over, sobbing and wailing his name.
Wesley. His name was Wesley.
Chapter 4
TOM
North of Idaho Falls
His head still felt like someone was using it for a drum. Tom moaned and pressed against his temples, willing it to stop. He had a decent concussion and was still somewhat disoriented, but it didn’t matter. He had to keep moving. He had to find Ethan.
The mid-morning sun beat down on him and he was grateful that he at least still had his cowboy hat. Stumbling over a rock, Tom went down to a knee and he stayed there for a moment, gathering himself. He’d been in and out of consciousness the first night after they were attacked. He’d managed to drag himself to the river and then spent half of the next day there, cleaning out the flesh wound on his right shoulder and rehydrating. He knew he might eventually regret drinking so much unfiltered water, but his options were limited.
Tom looked idly over at a man and woman walking by on the other side of the freeway, likely intentionally giving him a wide berth. He had a week’s growth of beard, an oozing wound over his eye, bruising on his forehead, a bandaged arm, and dirty clothes. Given his size, it was a reasonable assumption that he was a potential threat. He staggered to his feet. “Hello!”
The woman moved closer to the man, who glanced at Tom and kept walking.
They were on the same open stretch of Interstate 15 that he and Ethan traveled two days earlier, just north of Idaho Falls. Tango, Ethan’s horse, left a distinct track that Tom had spotted several times going south, so he was certain they’d also come back through this way. However, confirmation that Ethan was on the horse would be a relief. “Please, I just want to ask a question. Have you seen two men and a teenage boy on horses?”
While Tom had encountered several bikers and a couple of people on horseback, he was hoping the larger group of horses would stand out.
The man ignored Tom and the woman shook her h
ead. “Sorry. No, we haven’t. We just left Idaho Falls a couple of hours ago. You…shouldn’t go there.” The man pulled at her and they hurried away, their arms laden with duffel bags.
Tom had no intention of entering the city, and could only pray that he’d pick their trail back up on the other side, on the same highway. He was already half a day behind and at a huge disadvantage being on foot and without much for gear. The convicts had left his pack on his back, but dumped the contents out and taken his clothes and water bottle. A small fire-making kit and some other essentials were still in the zippered pockets.
By the time he’d been steady enough to walk back up the trail to the rest stop, Tom figured close to twenty hours had passed since the ambush. They likely stopped and slept at some point, but he was still going to be far behind. He broke into an abandoned semi in the parking lot and found two empty bottles of water and a decent first-aid kit in the glove box.
The gunshot turned out to be a flesh wound, although it could have used a few stitches. After some carefully applied butterfly Band-Aids, antibiotic ointment, and a few Advil, Tom filled the water bottles at the river and then set out. He didn’t make it more than a few miles before he got dizzy and had to stop. He woke up hours later, in the dark, confused. It happened one more time during the night, but hopefully, the episodes were behind him.
The terrain was basically flat, so Tom could see the ominous dark haze hanging over Idaho Falls from far away. As he got closer, it looked like the fires had only grown in size. Since the Snake River wasn’t far from the highway, more tents and obvious camps appeared along its banks as he neared the city. In the day and a half since he’d last been through, the outskirts were beginning to look more like a warzone. It was time to find another road, and now that he was on foot, he’d like to give the main part of the city an even wider berth.
His map was gone, but Tom remembered that the airport was just ahead and there should be a side road that went around it. It meant adding some time to his journey, though in addition to the fires, the streets were guaranteed to be dangerous and he was unarmed and certainly not at a hundred percent.