by Doug Kelly
The tallest of the scouts got to the truck first, and pleaded for help. His shirt had a patch with the name Ryan embroidered on it.
“We need help! Can you help us?” Ryan begged breathlessly.
Dylan got out of the truck. “Calm down. We all need help. What do you need from us?”
“We’re starving, all of us are starving, and two of us are really sick. They can’t walk anymore. We need food and help getting back to town.”
“What happened?”
“We went away for a camping trip, but didn’t bring a lot of food with us,” said Ryan, lethargically. “It was supposed to be just a week in the wilderness. Our vehicles went dead, so we’re stuck out here. We hiked to the road to get a ride, but no one has showed up except the three of you. Our troop leader left days ago to get help. He told us to stay at our campsite, but he never came back.”
“Let’s stop here, and get them some food and water,” said Dylan to his companions.
Ryan pointed to the two boys lying on the ground. “They’re really sick and too weak to eat. We need to get them to a hospital.”
Everyone’s eyes turned toward Dylan for a decision. He covered his face with his calloused and dirty hands, subdued a scream of frustration, and moved his hands back through his now longer hair, then rubbed his beard. He shut his eyes tightly as he tried to think of a solution, or more likely, a compromise. Getting involved was not part of his plan. He knew that avoiding people was their safest option. Nevertheless, when he saw those young boys in trouble and desperate for help, his isolationist resolve quickly vanished.
“That does it. Let’s get our gear out of the truck,” Dylan said, as he started to remove his pack from the bed of the truck. “We all won’t fit, so it’s back to the rafts for us, except you, Richard.”
“Me?”
“You get those two kids to the dam and find help. Get them into the town and wait for us there. It might be a couple of days. I don’t think you’ll mind not rowing for a couple of days.” Dylan then turned toward the boys who were still standing. “Let’s get you something to eat, and then you go to work.”
Dylan pointed toward an inlet that was surrounded with trees. “Take your gear over there. We’ll set up camp. Some of you pick cattails from the shoreline. I made a couple of bows and some arrows. Some of you need to hunt for any kind of game animal; we’ll cook it all up later. While you’re out there, look for nut trees. Get as many nuts as you can. Ryan, can you shoot a bow?”
“Yes, I have my archery badge. I can do it.”
Dylan pointed to the bows and river-cane arrows on the rafts. “The arrows are blunt tipped. Look for frogs, rabbits, and squirrels. Just the small stuff. It’ll only stun them, so be quick to grab what you shoot.”
Richard drove away with the two sick scouts, leaving the others to set up camp by a row of trees near the inlet. Six scouts remained with Dylan and Kevin.
Ryan told the two men that they had walked here from north of the road. The area they walked through was full of large game. He pointed to Dylan’s rifle and said, “With that rifle you could bring down something big, like a deer or elk. We saw plenty on the way over here.”
Dylan looked at Kevin and smiled. “Let’s go for a walk in the morning.”
Kevin gave Dylan’s rifle a pat and eagerly agreed to the plan.
At sunrise, the smell of cooking fish woke up all the hungry campers. Kevin had been the first up and brought the fish back to camp. He reset the fishing lines because they were going to be there until they could build up the food supply. Breakfast was fish, more cattails, and the remainder of the nuts found the previous evening. When everyone was done, Dylan shared his plan for the day.
“Kevin and I are going for a walk toward where Ryan said he saw those big game animals. We hope to get something big, and quickly. If we do, we’re going to need help bringing it back to camp. While we hunt with the rifle, I want you boys to scavenge for as much food as you can find, like you did yesterday. We’ll need to dry the meat when we bring it back to camp. Some of you find tree branches you can make drying racks out of for the meat. When we have a good supply of food, we’ll take the rafts on the lake and row to the dam. I think the town is just past the dam. You should be able to get help from there.”
Dylan and Kevin walked in a northerly direction away from the lake. It was not long before they came upon a herd of deer, grazing on the side of a hill. The two men decided to go around the hill and shoot the deer as they crested its peak. The deer were facing down the hillside as they grazed the slope. Dylan slowly crawled to the top of the hill to peer down the other side. His stealthy movements went unnoticed by their prey. From a prone position, Dylan aimed at the closest deer. He wanted a side profile shot to get both lungs. The deer turned slightly, and at just the right moment, Dylan squeezed the trigger. The crack of the rifle sent all the deer running away, back toward the lake. With the binoculars, he watched the wounded deer run, then stumble and collapse to the ground about one hundred yards from where it was shot.
After they all helped drag the deer back to the campsite, the boys helped to fillet strips of meat from the deer to start the drying process. The scouts had made several drying racks and poles to hold the meat over the fire. They spent the entire day collecting nuts and drying meat, so they could be ready to leave for the dam in the morning.
The next morning the scouts were up first, right at sunrise. They cooked the fish that had been caught overnight, and processed the pile of walnuts and acorns. After everyone got their fill at breakfast, the scouts pushed off the shoreline with Dylan and Kevin. Each person had a turn with the oars and they rowed continuously until late afternoon. That was when the dam came into view.
“There it is,” said Ryan, pointing at the dam. “It’s a hydroelectric power plant. See all the buildings around it.”
Dylan stopped rowing and turned to look at the dam. It was big; the complex of buildings meant one thing to him, trouble. There were probably still people there and he would like to avoid them. He just wanted to get Richard and be on their way after they let the scouts out on the shore.
They landed the rafts on a gravelly section of shoreline and got out. Dylan went up the hill and looked around. A road went across the top of the dam, and from this road, he could see down into the shallow valley behind the dam, with the town below. Scanning the whole area, he did not see the truck or Richard anywhere. He did see a road that would take them around the dam. That was where they would need to get the rafts to in order to continue their journey downstream. They carried the rafts up the hill to the asphalt road atop the dam. Dylan pointed toward the road that would guide them to their entry point on the river as it meandered through the valley below. Walking toward this road would take them in the direction of the complex of buildings at the power generating station. With the help of the scouts, they would be able to get the rafts to the next section of the river that was their pathway to home. Now they needed to find Richard. He might have gone into the town to get help for the two sick children.
They all walked past the rear of a car that was next to a building with a large open metal garage door. As they came around the vehicle, they noticed a man bent over the motor, working on it. He saw them at the same time, and jumped backwards, startled.
“Oh, shit, you scared me,” gasped the man. He quickly took another step back when he saw Dylan’s rifle.
They put the rafts down on the asphalt and sat on them to rest.
Carefully watching Dylan and the rifle, the man said, “I’m an engineer here at the plant. I’ve been stuck here for weeks. I thought I might be able to get this car running again in spite of what’s happened.” He threw a greasy rag at the motor.
“We’re using the river to get back home.” Dylan turned and looked in the direction of the lake. “It’s a good way to avoid people.” Realizing what he had just said to the man, he turned back toward him and said, “No offense to you.”
“None taken.”
The man’s expression changed. He took another step away, so that he was completely on the other side of the stalled car. Dylan did not like the man’s body language. The engineer looked downward, avoiding eye contact and began to speak.
“I was out here working on this useless piece of junk. A truck pulled in, and that caught my attention. The driver saw me and immediately drove over here.” He picked up a wrench and fumbled with it as he continued to speak. “I let him know that all we have here is a first-aid kit and some old civil defense rations we’ve been living on. Some of us are trying to get power back on for the town while we’re stuck here.” He cleared his throat and became noticeably nervous. “A sheriff’s deputy has been going back and forth on horseback to check on our progress. He showed up when I was talking with your friend. The deputy recognized the truck and accused him of stealing it. He handcuffed your friend and took him to town. He found your friend’s pistol.” The man finally looked up, not knowing what kind of reaction to expect from the men. “Here’s the worst part. The deputy said he was going to hang your friend Richard. Sorry to have to tell you this.”
Dylan immediately stood up and turned to Kevin, “We have to get going. We’ll explain what happened so they don’t hang Richard.”
The man spoke again, looking back at the ground as he did. “The truck belonged to the deputy’s brother. If something happened to his brother, I don’t think you’re going to get him to understand.”
Dylan sat back down on the raft. He buried his face in the palms of his calloused hands. Think…think…what can I do? After several silent moments, Dylan stood up. “Let’s get going. We have to hide these rafts down in the valley, and then go to town and get Richard. We’ll ask nicely, and if that doesn’t work, we do it the hard way.”
They found a secluded location by the river near a narrow road that led to town. They concealed the rafts and walked toward town with the scouts. Dylan explained to Ryan they were going to find out where Richard was being held, which was probably the police station. He wanted them to stay back because he did not know what was going to happen. Ryan gave the message to his fellow scouts as they walked toward town.
The town was not that large and it was easy to find the red brick building with a police headquarters sign on the front. Directly in front of the police station was the truck Richard had been driving. Dylan motioned for the scouts to wait across the street at a city park. He told them not to go near the police station until they left with Richard.
Dylan buried his hands deep into his pockets and followed Kevin through the glass front doors. The entry way had a reception desk that was empty. In the reception area were two uniformed lawmen, a sheriff’s deputy and a city policeman, sharing jokes between themselves and laughing. The officers immediately got quiet at the arrival of the two men.
“We found some scouts stranded by the lake. They need some help getting home,” said Dylan quietly.
“Send them in,” said the deputy. The nametag on the front of his shirt was Murphy.
Dylan and Kevin noticed the deputy’s name and realized that this must be the ranger’s brother. The police officer sat down in a chair and pretended to ignore the conversation. He picked up an old magazine and flipped through the pages. He was squinting at the pages, struggling with the thin light getting through the open windows.
“I told them to wait outside,” said Dylan. “I need to clear something up first. There has been a terrible misunderstanding. We heard that you are going to hang the man that had that truck out front. All he did was drive those sick kids to get help.”
The police officer stopped looking at the magazine. He peered over its top and continued to listen, as he remained seated.
“How would you know that? Are you with the guy we have locked up?” asked the deputy, now visibly angry.
“You could say that. We know he didn’t do anything wrong,” said Dylan, in a more assertive tone.
The deputy drew his pistol and aimed it back and forth at Dylan and Kevin. “Get your hands up. That’s a bullshit story. I found my brother’s pistol on your friend. A hanging is too good for him. Maybe a hanging is too good for all of you!”
Dylan and Kevin did not move.
“I said get your hands up now!”
Kevin’s hands went immediately up. Dylan had buried his hands deep into his front pockets, but he began to remove them, slowly. As his right hand cleared his pocket, he turned his hand to show an object, tightly gripped in his right hand, to the deputy. His other hand displayed the pin from the hand grenade, which he had already pulled.
“Drop it now!” commanded the deputy.
“I don’t think you want me to do that,” said Dylan, as he dangled the grenade pin in front of him for the deputy to see. “If you shoot me, I’ll let go of the grenade. Is that really what you want?”
“Everybody calm down,” said the police officer, getting up slowly from the chair. “Let’s just take it easy and work something out. Murphy, you need to put the pistol down before this situation gets worse.” He tossed the magazine to the floor. “I’m going to release their friend, and they’re going to leave.”
“We’ll take the keys to that truck out front, too,” demanded Dylan.
“I’m going to get your friend now, okay?” said the police officer, holding his hands up.
“Follow him, Kevin. We don’t want any funny stuff.”
Within a few minutes, Richard was in the lobby with Kevin. Richard was wearing an orange jumpsuit and carrying a bundle of the clothes he had been wearing when he was arrested. Kevin used a set of handcuffs to restrain the deputy and the police officer, cuffing them to each other. Kevin and Richard ran to the truck, piled in, and waited for Dylan. Seeing that Richard had started the truck and was ready to go, Dylan dashed to the street, jumping into the bed of the truck, and Richard hit the gas. Dylan went flat on his back and carefully replaced the pin back into the grenade. Kevin gave Richard directions to the road leading back to the river where they had hid the rafts. The three men jumped into the rafts and headed downstream.
Chapter Twelve
As the endless days turned into weeks again, the men noticed the surrounding terrain gradually change. They saw more farmland with abandoned crops, and the arid grassland faded away as trees became a common sight along the riverbank. Although the men were able and motivated to avoid direct contact with people over these weeks, they did see people with increasing frequency. Some were walking in the fields and others were on horseback. The closest they came to contact, recently, was with a man chopping a tree near the river. They had drifted too close and the man with the axe had his back turned, oblivious to the rafts floating downstream.
On a cloudy morning, the men came upon a bridge crossing the river. It had been weeks since they had seen a bridge. This was a steel-framed bridge supported by large concrete pillars. It was a wide bridge, and because of the billowing dark clouds behind them, they decided to stop beneath it to rest and determine whether a storm was actually on its way. The men pulled their rafts out of the water and tethered them to the riverbank in case of heavy wind from the possible storm. Dylan climbed up the embankment, staying under the bridge, looking for an area that would remain dry if it began to rain. He sat down in the dirt and the other two men joined him.
“Anybody want to guess where we’re at?” Dylan asked.
“It’s hard to say without a map,” Kevin replied. “I know we’ve covered a lot of distance and the river has turned south now. My guess is we’re deep into the Dakotas.”
“It won’t be much longer before we go through some bigger cities,” said Richard. “We’ve been able to
avoid people for a while, but I’m afraid when we get closer to a city, that’s not going to work anymore.”
Dylan reflected in silence on what Richard had just said. He knew that Richard was correct. They would not be able to avoid people much longer. The larger cities were getting closer and it would not be long before they had to pass through them. He looked up at Richard, nodded, and then spoke to Kevin. “He’s right. We can try to keep our distance, but when we get to Omaha, we’ll start to get into the thick of this mess. You said you live in the downtown area. My guess is that by now chaos has reached your town. We’ll need to go in fast and get right back out. I plan on carrying the rifle in plain sight to deter the criminal element.” Dylan stood up and brushed dirt off his pants with his hands. “Kevin, how do you think your wife is doing?”
“She’s a smart person, a science teacher, so I’m sure she figured out what happened faster than others. She’s thrifty, too. When we went grocery shopping and she saw a good deal on something we could stock the pantry with, she loaded up.” Kevin’s voice trailed into a depressed tone. “There was plenty of food in the house when I left.”
“Kevin, is there something wrong?” asked Dylan.
Richard stood up. “Just leave him alone. We’re all in a shitty situation. This sucks for all of us,” said Richard, as he started to climb to the top of the bridge.
Kevin’s silence answered his question. There was something wrong. Kevin glanced up and watched Richard walk away. He then turned to Dylan and said, “She’s pregnant. My wife is pregnant.”
“I can’t believe you didn’t tell me this before,” said Dylan, shocked at his confession.
“There’s nothing you could do about it, and I didn’t want to talk about it. It bothers me to be this far away when I know she needs help,” replied Kevin, showing frustration.