Forager (9781771275606)

by Scheer, Ron

  I looked at the faces around me. Sawyer’s, though pale, showed a soft glow of hope. Frank’s face was wrinkled with concern, and Dr. White’s shone with eagerness.

  “Do you remember where the house was, Dillon?” Sawyer asked.

  “Not exactly, but I can find it again. I’m positive it was on that first road east.”

  “What about those bandits? Will you have to risk running into them again?” Sawyer asked.

  Taking a minute, I thought long and hard. The road where the Scavengers shot at me was a mile south of the road the pharmacist’s house was on. Even if the two properties stood directly across from each other, I’d still have most of a mile between them. “I’ll be okay.” I wasn’t quite sure it was true.

  “Dillon, there’s one other thing,” Dr. White said. “I’m not sure the medicine will work. It might be too old.”

  Sawyer’s face fell.

  Frank piped in, “Not only that, I can’t keep the mayor from coming after you for your jolts. He’s going to take his anger out on someone. You’re the handiest target.”

  “If I’m not here, he can’t jolt me.”

  “True, but if you’re not here when he comes looking, he’ll probably banish you,” Frank said. He and the doctor both had grim expressions.

  I looked at Sawyer, and he was shaking his head. “I appreciate you wanting to help me, but I can’t have you risking your place in this town. Besides, Dr. White is right. Even if you found the right medicine, it might not work.”

  Glaring at the three of them, I said, “I can’t believe that you can sit here so calmly and tell me no. If somebody doesn’t do something, Sawyer’s going to lose his leg!”

  “I’m sorry, Dillon,” said Frank. “There’s just no guarantee the medicine will work.”

  “There was no guarantee I’d find the alternator either, but I did!”

  Sawyer put a wall of steel in his voice. “Dillon, stop! I’ve still got one more day to fight this infection.”

  Let them think I was beat. I lowered my head, and with all the regret I could muster, I said, “I would have risked going out there again. I’d have found the medicine just like I found the alternator, but I won’t go, not if all of you don’t want me to.”

  All three of them shook their heads. Sawyer reached out from his bed and grasped my hand. “I do appreciate the thought.”

  I didn’t wait for the others to say anything. Laying Sawyer’s hat on the bed beside him, I walked out of the hospital, retrieved the empty water bucket, mounted Fred, and headed for home.

  Only the topmost rim of the sun was visible. I kept Fred’s pace nice and casual—I didn’t want anyone suspecting that once it was dark, I’d be gone again.

  My stomach grumbled, reminding me I hadn’t eaten dinner. The Dining Hall was out. It would take too long, plus I was afraid I might run into the mayor or one of his Bulls. I’d been lucky so far, but sooner or later they’d find me and drag me off for my jolts.

  The food bag Millie gave me still held plenty. The bread and cheese would last for several more days, but I’d eaten all the apples. Feeling a little guilty for not returning the food to the Dining Hall, I tore off a hunk of bread and ate while I rode.

  I wanted to rush back to the pharmacist’s house as fast as Fred could get me there, not wait for full dark. I couldn’t, though. I needed a book, one that belonged to my mother.

  A block from the RV, I spied Kurt pounding on my front door. Quickly, before he looked back, I turned Fred onto a side street. Hoping to muffle the sound of her hooves, I rode through the overgrown lawns until the surrounding houses blocked my RV from view.

  Had the Bull heard Fred’s hoofbeats? I hoped not, but the streets were quiet and sound carried. Would it carry a full block?

  What was I going to do? I couldn’t let Kurt find me, but I needed that book. There was no point leaving town without it.

  As I tied Fred to a mailbox post, with enough slack to let her graze, she rolled her big brown eyes at me as if to say, You’re crazy. You know that?

  I patted her neck. “Stay here, Fred. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”

  One quiet step after another, I slunk through the tall grass between an unoccupied house to my left and my closest neighbor, Martha, on my right. Martha was a feisty old woman full of whine and moan, but, thankfully, she wouldn’t be bothering me tonight. She always took her supper at this time.

  I reached the back of Martha’s house. From there, I could see the front of my RV, but not the door. An overgrown bush at the far end of Martha’s backyard was blocking my view. Stealing over to the bush, I lay down in the tall grass.

  The gnats immediately made a feast of my skin. I tried to remain still and unseen, but the bugs made me squirm. It didn’t matter. Kurt was gone.

  Cautiously, I walked up to my RV. I didn’t put it past Kurt to be hiding somewhere, ready to sneak up on me. Reaching the door safely, I went inside. In the kitchen, I opened the cupboard with Mom’s old medical kit in it. Underneath her bag was a heavy three-ring binder. Prescription Guide for Doctors.

  The light was fading. There wasn’t time to leaf through the book and memorize the names of every kind of antibiotic. Instead, after opening the rings, I took out that section. There must have been fifty pages. It was more than I wanted to carry, but I didn’t dare leave a single page behind. I grabbed a candle and four boxes of matches. Sometimes it took a full box of the decomposed things to find one that would light.

  I had what I wanted. Now I needed to get out of here before Kurt or one of the other Bulls came back. I almost made it to the door when a pounding from the other side made my heart leap. Panic welled up inside me.

  “Dillon Montgomery, come on out. I know you’re in there. Don’t force me to ruin your door.” It was Kurt. So he hadn’t left. Was I that important?

  Easing onto the floor, I slowly and quietly grasped the lock between my thumb and forefinger and, as gently as possible , turned it. I winced at the click. Had Kurt heard it too?

  “I know you’re sick. The mayor sent me to check on you.”

  Rolling the pages from Mom’s book into a tube, I placed the matches and candle inside, and stuck the bundle down the front of my shirt, making sure to tuck my shirt into my pants. A tricky feat while on my knees.

  Kurt blocked the only door in the RV. I decided to try a window, thinking the one in the kitchen was my best bet. It was already open for the water hose that ran from my parent’s old house, and it faced opposite the door.

  “C’mon kid, open up. I ain’t leaving again. You should know that the mayor instructed me to kick down the door if necessary. He’s worried about you. I don’t want to ruin your property, but I will if I have too.”

  The mayor was worried about me? More likely, he wanted to know when I’d be well enough to receive my jolts. I shook the thought off. I had to help Sawyer.

  “Last chance, kid. I’m counting to three. Open the door, or I’m kicking.”

  Kurt sounded so sincere. I think he honestly didn’t want to break down my door. I didn’t want him to, either. Neither of us was going to be happy. Crawling into the kitchen, I stood up, and slid the window open.

  I put one leg through, and then the other.

  Kurt started to count. “One…two…three!”

  When he said three, I waited just long enough for him to plant his foot solidly in my front door. Flinging myself out the window, I used the noise of the crash to cover my escape. Kurt’s foot smashed into my door again. I eased around the RV and peeked my head out. I was just in time to see Kurt’s back leg disappear into the doorway.

  I took off running.

  I made a beeline for the bush I’d hidden behind earlier. It was too bad professional baseball was long gone. The slide I made to get behind that bush would have made a highlight reel.

  The gnats were happy to see me. As soon as I was down, they began munching away. I didn’t like being supper, but I couldn’t risk moving until Kurt left.

  I slow
ly counted to one hundred. The gnats were all over me. I was dinner, and apparently, I tasted good. I stayed down long enough to watch Kurt exit my RV. He even tried to close the mangled door. Standing up, I brushed the bugs away from my face, and walked to where I’d tied Fred. It must have been my day for unwelcome guests.

  Josh Mason looked down at me from Fred’s saddle.

  Avoiding Kurt and getting the things from my RV hadn’t taken long at all. Where had Josh come from? Had he followed me?

  Fred tossed her head and stamped her left front hoof. Get this overgrown lump off of me.

  “So there you are, Orphan Boy. I knew you were around here somewhere. Hiding from my dad’s Bulls, were you, you little coward?”

  I couldn’t exactly deny that I’d been hiding from Kurt. It just wasn’t for the reasons Josh thought.

  “What do you want Josh? Are you following me?”

  One corner of his mouth turned up in a cruel grin. “Yeah, I saw you leave the infirmary. When you didn’t turn toward the Dining Hall, I guessed you’d be heading home.”

  “What do you want?”

  “Revenge. See, it couldn’t have been the Forager that pulled a gun on me the other night. He was in the infirmary.”

  I drummed my fingers against my thigh and let out a heavy breath of impatience.

  Fred snorted. Come on, already.

  Josh continued, “Funny thing is, I was headed to your place to pound you for that cheap shot you gave me before those Scavengers attacked.”

  “I don’t have time for this, Josh.”

  “Too bad. You were already going to pay for the punch, but pointing that gun at me? That’s real pain.”

  I itched to get out of town and find the medicine. “Can’t this wait?”

  “I’ve waited long enough. After I plant my fist in your face a few dozen times, I’m going to personally drag you to my father. Look on the bright side—once I rearrange your face, he might not recognize you.”

  Under ordinary circumstances, his words would have opened a pit in my guts. Not tonight. All I wanted was to get him off of Fred. There wasn’t time to let him bully me.

  Boldly, I took two steps to the mailbox. “Get off the horse, Josh.”

  “Oh, I’m coming down. You ain’t gonna’ like it much, but I’m coming.”

  “Not now, Josh.”

  “I don’t like your tone, Orphan Boy. It’s time to shut you up.”

  I’d had enough.

  I waited until he swung his leg over Fred’s back and was balancing with his left foot still in the stirrup. Then I reached up, grabbed his shirt with both hands and pulled—hard. I took a quick step back, still pulling, and he landed face first on the road. Not wasting time, I planted my foot on his back and leapt for Fred.

  Fred whinnied. Finally. She didn’t wait to be prompted with a kick. I was too busy trying to get my rump in the saddle to look, but I hoped Fred’s hooves were pelting chunks of black asphalt all over Josh’s face.

  “Get back here, coward!” Josh yelled into the night.

  The only answer he got was the sound of Fred’s fading hooves.

  It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t nice, but the thought of face planting Josh made me grin all the way out of town.

  I didn’t bother to be quiet. Josh wouldn’t be, not after what I had just done to him. It was a small victory. I hadn’t stayed to fight, but what sane person would?

  Where had the courage for my actions come from? Every other time Josh bullied me, he’d left me paralyzed with fear. Was it different because I’d spent the last two days totally on my own? Or because Sawyer needed me, even if he didn’t want me to go? Or was it being shot at by Scavengers? I didn’t know, but my grin turned into a broad smile. Even bigger than the one I wore when I had pulled the gun on Josh. This time, he knew it was me.

  The sun had dipped below the horizon, but it was still light enough to let Fred run. We raced out of town, but night was closing fast.

  Chapter Nineteen

  With Fred at a run, sticking to the dirt along the side of the road, we passed the cornfields and soon came to the intersection where the house with the caved in roof stood. I turned Fred east and kept her running.

  Even with the light fading, I didn’t slow down. I needed to get us as far as possible before darkness slowed Fred. We passed the underground house and kept going. The pounding of Fred’s hooves on the dirt lane was a steady drum.

  The shadowy spaces between the trees and at the bottoms of the hills grew larger and larger. I kept a wary eye out for Scavengers. Getting shot at was not an experience I wanted to repeat.

  The light faded away. Darkness forced me to pull back on the reins. Fred was blowing fairly hard, so I dismounted and let her catch her breath. My legs ached, but I walked Fred until her breathing was easy and relaxed.

  The darkness brought on the noise. The constant chirping of crickets was accented by the occasional hoot of an owl or the cry of a coyote. All the sounds were familiar, but out here in the wide open spaces, they were clearer, purer, rawer.

  It surprised me when, right around when the moon set, I arrived at the pharmacist’s house. It had taken me half a day to get this far on my first trip. Stopping to inspect all those barns and sheds for combines had taken longer than I’d realized.

  Fred grazed in the tall grass of the front yard, while I tried the three doors leading into the house. None of them would open, not even with the pry bar.

  I didn’t want to waste the time, but I decided to check the windows. If they were locked, I’d go ahead and break one. Weather would get in, and in a few years the house would be a ruin, but the sacrifice would be worth it if I saved Sawyer.

  Slipping the pry bar in my back pocket, I squeezed behind the bush blocking the closet window. Branches scratched my arms and snagged my clothes. As I shuffled along in the tight space, I kicked over a rock about half the size of a loaf of bread.

  The window was, as I expected, locked. Working my way out from behind the bush to check the next one, I happened to look down. The moon was in exactly the right place for the object under the rock to flicker. I got a nice long scratch on my forearm bending down to get the item, but it was worth it. The key looked as new and shiny as the day it was made. I hauled myself out from behind the bush and raced to the front door.

  I put the key in the lock, gave it a turn, and I was in.

  I opened every curtain I could get my hands on, but the moonlight coming in wasn’t enough to chase away the darkness of the room.

  I took the candle and matches out of my pocket and began the slow process of trying to get a flame. The head of the first match disintegrated as it slid over the rough striker on the side of the box. After the tenth match, a spark ignited. It fizzled for a split second, but no fire.

  With only two matches left in the first box, one finally lit. The flame surprised me so much that I almost dropped it. I fumbled with the candle, trying to find the wick for so long the match nearly burned out.

  One candle didn’t put off much light, but it was far better than the scant moonlight coming in through the windows. I began to search the house. In here somewhere was the medicine that would cure Sawyer. It had to be.

  What if it wasn’t?

  Don’t think about it, you idiot. Just find it.

  I couldn’t stop the wild pounding of my pulse, or the fear and excitement of the search. The flickering flame threw huge, distorted shadows on the walls and ceilings. I even spooked myself with the wavering shadows from the furniture. Thinking I knew what I was looking for, I searched for small blue bottles with child-proof lids. I’d seen enough of them around my parents’ house, as Dad used to store old quarters in them.

  Holding the candle low—so it lit up the largest possible area—I pointed it forward. The arc of light only illuminated the room for about eight feet, but it was enough to let me distinguish the furniture, a built-in bookshelf, and a couple of doorways.

  The first closed door I tried led to a coat closet. Next w
ere two open doorframes set at right angles to each other. One led to the kitchen, the other down a long hallway. I tried the kitchen first.

  One by one, I opened the doors and drawers. I found a blender, a toaster, a coffee maker, and numerous other kitchen appliances. Plates, bowls, drinking glasses, wine glasses, and coffee mugs stacked the shelves in abundance. Pots and pans of every shape and size twinkled in the candlelight, but nowhere in the kitchen did I find a single pill or bottle of medicine.

  The only good thing to come out of my searching was a stainless steel five-gallon stockpot with a lid, and several sharp knives. I put them on the counter. Even if I failed with the medicines, at least I wouldn’t be going back empty-handed.

  Two doors led out of the kitchen. The first led to an attached garage, the second to the basement. I decided to try the garage.

  A car took up the space in front of me. The same advertising was on the door of this car as those in the shed. The one window in the garage let in a small amount of moonlight. That, and the candle, helped me see a workbench, a pegboard full of tools, and two large metal cabinets.

  I went straight for the cabinets. Inside the first was shelf after shelf of painting supplies. The second was full of small gardening tools and equipment.

  A pile of small containers on the bottom shelf made my heart jump. Cautiously, I brought my candle as close as I dared to the first bottle on the shelf. The label was yellowed and faded, but I was able to make out a bush with pink flowers on it. The next bottle showed a picture of a tomato plant. Darn. Closing the cabinet doors, I went back into the house.

  In the hallway, I checked a closet and an office and found nothing of use. Further down the hallway was the bathroom. The medicine cabinet made my blood pump. Inside were several small containers and jars of what I thought might be medicine. Reaching for the rolled up papers inside my shirt, I realized that there was no way this could possibly be the cache of remedies from the closed up pharmacy. There wasn’t enough here to fill this cabinet, let alone a whole store full of shelves.