EMP (Book 3): 12 Years Old and Alone

by Whitworth, Mike

  And the venison roast was delicious, far better than the freeze-dried crap of Al’s. Even he said so.

  I gave in and gave Sackett some. The girl ate some too. I wondered if she’d ever be able to kill and skin a critter, or if she would always be a burden on someone else.

  I remembered a slide show on the web about social media blunders. Someone who was criticizing hunters had posted something to the effect that hunting is bad and no one should kill those cute critters. Instead they should buy meat where it is made, in the grocery store. I wondered if this girl Zee was one of those clueless ones.

  After we ate, sitting around the room on whatever, since there were only two chairs, Mr. Z suggested Al go shoot some more deer with his gun.

  “If someone heard the gun, that would give our location away,” I said.

  “What does that matter?” Mr. Z asked.

  I looked at Al. He was looking at the girl. “There are people out there who would kill us for what we have.”

  “Nonsense, Boy. Not everyone is bad.”

  “Then why is Zee’s mom dead?” I asked.

  Zee gave me a look, a look full of sorrow and pain that melted my heart even though I thought she was crazy. “Trevor is right Dad. You know he is.”

  Maybe the girl wasn’t so crazy after all.

  I got used to having people around me again, but I couldn’t go back to being a kid. I went out of my way to maintain my independence, and I refused to do the newcomer’s bidding. After a while I think they got it, but Mr. Z slipped sometimes and still tried to order me around.

  What I couldn’t get used to was the way that Al was always looking at Zee. I figured he was too old for her. Shit, he must be past thirty. Besides, he had just lost his wife and kids. Zee didn’t seem interested in him.

  I hoped Al’s interest in Zee didn’t mean trouble. Girls were always trouble. I learned that at home watching my sisters and in school. When guys got sucked in by a girl, they stopped thinking straight.

  We all slipped into a routine that grew increasingly comfortable. I found I enjoyed talking to people again, even Zee—sometimes. Jerry knew a bit about archery and taught me a couple of things. And I had the freedom to hunt every day or make venison jerky and didn’t have to do any of the cooking if I didn’t want to. I had it made.

  And then Tolliver came.

  Chapter 17

  I saw Tolliver and his men before they saw me. I motioned Sackett to remain silent. He knew my hand signals well now and I took him him hunting with me every day. With six mouths to feed, including Sackett, I needed his help dragging a deer back to the cabin every now and then. And man, could Sackett pull. He really liked that. It was almost his favorite thing to do, his favorite being eating. Mr. Z said Sackett was a Bernese mountain dog, but I already knew that. He also said he was bred to pull carts and that’s what Bernese mountain dogs were used for overseas, before people started having them as pets here in the States.

  Tolliver was walking in lead position. He was followed by four men. Each man was armed with a long gun, but I was too far away to tell what kind of other weapons they had.

  They were headed in the direction of the cabin. I snuck away and me and Sackett ran back to the cabin.

  The weather was warmer. Al said there would still be a snow or two before spring, but there was no snow on the ground now. There was nothing to impede us as we ran.

  I burst into the cabin breathing too hard to talk.

  Al was splitting firewood beside the cabin and came through the door only seconds after me. I was folded over with my hands on my knees trying to stop breathing like a locomotive.

  “Tolliver?” Al asked.

  I nodded and Al grabbed his rifle.

  “Where?”

  I pointed and gasped, “coming this way.”

  Al ran out of the cabin with his rifle. Our visitors stared at him and then me like both of us were stars of some soap opera, or something. I caught my breath and stood.

  “What’s going on, Boy?” That was Mr. Z For some reason he thought Boy was my name no matter how many times I told him different.

  “Y’all just wait here. I’ll be back.”

  I ran after Al not having a clue what I would do.

  I finally caught up with Al. He was crouched in some bushes looking down the hill at Tolliver and his men. He motioned me and Sackett down. “I’d say you hit Tolliver with that first arrow. See how he’s holding his arm against his side. He still has a bandage where you skewered his right forearm too.” Al paused. “Too bad you didn’t kill the son of a bitch.”

  “What are you fixing to do?” I asked.

  “I’m not sure. If they stay on the path they’re on, they won’t see the cabin.”

  “They outnumber us. Shouldn’t we just let them go?”

  Al looked at me with a fierce grin, one I’d never seen. “For now,” he said. “Just for now. I’ll take care of them later.”

  I put my hand on his arm. His eyes were full of crazy. “Al, let them go. We can move on and find a place where we will never see them again.”

  “You’re right, Trevor. That’s just what we should do.”

  “And are we?”

  “No.”

  There was too much crazy in Al’s eyes for me to convince him of anything right now. I just hoped he wouldn’t open fire. He might get Tolliver, but the other men would take cover and it would be a fight that one rifle and a bow couldn’t win.

  I hunkered down in the bushes with a hand on Sackett’s neck. There was nothing else I could do at the moment.

  Everything would have been fine if that stupid Mr. Z and his daughter hadn’t started hollering after us.

  “Hey Al, Trevor, where are you guys?” Mr. Z yelled.

  “Yeah, where are you Al?” That was Zee. Her voice cut the air like a knife. I think her mother must have been part klaxon horn. Her voice was grating, but her yell was horror-film-worthy.

  Tolliver raised his head. He had heard them.

  Shit, I thought just as Al fired his rifle—and missed. He completely fucking missed.

  In ten seconds Tolliver and his men were hidden and bullets were punching through the bushes around us. I grabbed dirt with my face.

  Al fired his rifle again but I couldn’t see what he was shooting at. I crawled away and Sackett followed me. I saw a dog crawl one time on TV, but I’d never seen a dog do that in real life. But Sackett did. He kept his head down. He weren’t no fool. But I wasn’t so sure about me at the moment, with bullets flying and all.

  When I thought we were out of the line of fire, I rose and ran toward the cabin and the shouting fools wanting to know what’s going on. Damn, it seemed to me sometimes that only dumb shits survived the lights going out.

  I got to Mr. Z first.

  “Shut up,” I said.

  “Why you impertinent…”

  “Shut the fuck up unless you wanna get shot, you dumb-ass.” Okay, maybe I didn’t endear myself to Mr. Z But I wasn’t planning on marrying his granddaughter or anything like that, so it didn’t matter.

  Once Mr. Z was quiet I found Zee and told her the same thing. She shut up right away.

  I gathered the two shouters and took them back inside the cabin. “Stay here and be quiet,” I said as I left again.

  I went back to Al. He was still exchanging the occasional rifle shot with the men below.

  “Al, let’s get outta here.”

  “When I’m ready.” Al had all kinds of crazy in his eyes.

  “You’ll be dead before you’re ready. Those guys are probably circling around to get a better shot by now. Let’s leave.”

  About then a bullet slapped into an oak tree not two feet from Al’s head. That got his attention when I couldn’t.

  “Let’s go, Al.”

  “Okay, Trevor.”

  I could tell that Al was shaken by the near miss. He followed me with no complaint. What was it with people? They think they can be Rambo or something and always win against any enemy.
I’d seen too many dead bodies since the lights went out for me to believe that shit.

  Once inside the cabin, I noticed Al was shaken. I couldn’t tell if he was scared or mad. Sackett voted for scared.

  It took twenty minutes for the crazy to leave his eyes. Once I thought Al was okay, I took Sackett and we found a hiding spot on the slope above the cabin where we could watch for Tolliver and his men. I kept an arrow nocked, just in case, even though I didn’t think it would do any good.

  An hour later I was still watching for Tolliver and his men.

  Two hours passed and still no sign.

  It would be dark in a couple more hours. Then maybe I’d go back in the cabin and get something to eat.

  I had no idea what Al and the newcomers were talking about in the cabin. I thought all the men should be armed and on watch. But I wasn’t the boss. Nobody listens to a kid.

  Tolliver didn’t show up that night, or any time during the next week. Al said it was safe to resume our regular activities. I couldn’t tell if he wanted to hunt Tolliver down or not, but he never let that big rifle out of his sight.

  I went hunting and killed a deer. My bow was holding up well. I rubbed it and my arrows with deer tallow to help them shed water, but I couldn’t use the bow much on rainy days because my string was made of twisted sinew and it stretched when it got wet. I had another string made of braided nylon mason’s twine just in case I needed to use the bow when it was wet but I liked the sinew string better. It gave the arrows a sweeter cast.

  That afternoon, Zee was cooking a deer roast in a Dutch oven on top of the wood stove. My mouth watered at the thought of having some of that roast for supper. Al, Jerry, and Mr. Z were talking around the table. I suddenly realized nobody was on watch. I didn’t think King would have allowed that to happen, but Al was a different person. I went outside to stand watch myself. Sackett followed after a long stare and drool session with the deer roast.

  Ensconced in our hidden spot, I watched for anything unusual. “What are we gonna do, Sackett? Should we stay with these people or go back out on our own? I think Al’s wound is better, besides Zee takes care of it now.”

  Sackett was too busy sniffing deer roast from the cabin two hundred feet below us to answer. Right now I think he would have voted to stay.

  But it was a dilemma for me, to stay or leave. If I stayed I’d have people to talk to and I didn’t have to do the cooking. If I left, I’d be free again. Free of other people’s expectations. Free of their schedule. Free to decide my own fate.

  As it turned out, the decision was made for me.

  The attack came while I was hunting. I heard the gunfire from two miles away. I didn’t run back to the cabin this time. There was too great a chance of running into someone who might shoot me, and maybe even Sackett. But I didn’t tarry either. I made good time.

  It was over by the time I got to the cabin. Mr. Z lay dead on the ground in front of the cabin. He had been shot. Jerry and Al were lying on the floor inside the cabin. Half of Jerry’s head was blown off. Al was shot four times in the gut.

  Son of a bitch. I wanted everything back to normal. I wanted to be home with Mom yelling at me and my sisters making enough noise to drown out a bulldozer. I was sick of the killing. There were too many monsters in people form now, and it seemed like they were winning.

  I managed to get Al onto the bottom bunk. I looked at his wounds. When a deer was shot like that, it took a long time for them to die. Shit.

  I cleaned and bandaged Al’s wounds as best I could using the cabin first aid kit. Then I dragged Jerry out of the cabin and laid him out beside Mr. Z There was no sign of Zee.

  I was sitting beside Al when he woke.

  “Is that you, Trevor?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Trevor, I’m gonna die.”

  I kept silent. No need seconding the obvious.

  “I want you to know something.”

  “Yeah.”

  “First, all of my stuff I leave to you.”

  I nodded.

  “Second, you know that my dad liked you a lot?”

  I nodded again.

  “But he loved you, Trevor. He loved you like a son. He was going to adopt you.”

  I sat as still as I could. I was afraid if I moved the tears would start. It didn’t matter. They started anyway. First rolling down my cheek and then splashing on my lap.

  “Trevor, for my dad, and me, would you take our name. You will be the last of the Kingcades if you do.”

  I couldn’t answer Al at first. My voice wouldn’t come and my chest felt constricted as the flow of tears increased. I didn’t even know my real last name, just the name of my mom’s second husband. I never met my real father and I knew nothing about him. My stepdad was mostly a nice guy when he was sober, but he wasn’t a tenth the father King had been to me. When I found my voice, I said.

  “I will.”

  Al lay back on the bunk. I could see weakness gathering in his eyes.

  Trevor Kingcade. It had a ring to it.

  “I’ll try and make you and King proud,” I said.

  “I know you will.”

  “Where’s Zee?” I asked.

  Al said, “Tolliver took her.”

  “That doesn’t sound good.”

  “It’s not. She may be dead by now.”

  I said nothing, mostly because I had no idea what to say.

  “You should try to save her,” Al whispered. Then he died. So much for lasting a long time like a deer.

  I buried them by the cabin. The graves were shallow, but it was the best I could do. I stuck Al’s BAR barrel in the ground at the head of his grave like I had seen in the old black and white war movies.

  Once they were buried, I put together a pack of food and gear. I debated taking a rifle but decided against it. My bow and arrows were lighter and much quieter. I did take Al’s hunting knife. It was a good knife with a leather sheath. I also took a small revolver I found below the floorboards and a handful of cartridges for it.

  When all the gear was in the rucksack, I left the cabin. I found myself following the trail Tolliver’s men left. I wasn’t sure why.

  Their trail was easy to follow. They weren’t trying to hide their tracks. Zee was with them. Her small shoe prints paced the others. As odd as Zee was, I doubted she'd gone willingly.

  Chapter 18

  “Sackett, if I had any sense, we’d be going the other way.”

  Sackett rolled his eyes at me and plodded along. He wasn’t in the mood for conversation. I could tell.

  “Tell you what Sackett. We’ll just follow along and see if we can sneak Zee away from them.”

  Sackett seemed happier now that we’d settled the matter.

  Me and Sackett tracked Tolliver’s bunch for two days and couldn’t catch up with them. The sky looked like snow and the temperature was dropping. Al had said we had at least another snow coming. But the last snows usually only stayed around for a day, so it should be no big deal, except that I might lose Tolliver’s tracks.

  I walked faster, almost at a trot, hoping to catch up with them before the snow came so I could keep an eye on them. Three hours later the sky was solid gray, what the old folks call ominous gray, whatever that meant. Then the snow started like scattered grains from a salt shaker. The temperature dropped twenty degrees as quick as my little sister could talk me out of my ice cream cone.

  “We better find some shelter, Sackett.”

  Sackett just kept plodding along, a black blob with a white face and paws, sprinkled with snow. I noticed his face was serious though. That was unusual.

  It was snowing harder with every passing minute. I led Sackett up from the trail in the valley toward a rock outcrop near the top of the hill. We followed the rocks looking for shelter. I stumbled and fell face forward, right into a cave entrance. At least I thought it was a cave entrance. When I got up and peered at the wall, I saw pick marks. Maybe it was an old mine? The entrance was two feet lower than the surrounding
ground and a four-foot-high tunnel led back into the rock.

  Sackett and I entered the tunnel and found it went only ten feet back into the hillside. In the dim light I could see a big old sheet metal cooker, and some other metal stuff scattered around. One wall of the tunnel was lined with firewood cut to only a foot long. This was an old whiskey still.

  But it was shelter. I dragged the old cooker out of the way and started a fire in the stone ring the cooker had sat on. Pretty soon we were warm. As I suspected, there was a smoke hole in the roof of the tunnel with good draw, even in the snow.

  My dad used to talk about bootleggers and homemade whiskey, and how smart they were at hiding stills. He should know. He drank a lot of moonshine.

  After a cold supper eaten by a warm fire, Sackett and I slept like babies, well, except for when I woke up worried about Zee.

  The next morning, I peered out from the tunnel mouth onto a fairyland. The landscape was white as far as I could see. There was more than a foot of snow on the ground. The trees were plastered with heavy snow that dragged their branches almost to the ground. The pines and cedars were as pretty as any Christmas tree I’d ever seen. I just sat down and stared for a while.

  Sometimes nature has a way of calming the soul. That’s what King said. Now I understood. I couldn’t stop staring. It was beautiful. There wasn’t a man-made anything anywhere in sight. Was this what it looked like when the Indians hunted here?

  Then I remembered Zee. What could I do? Would Tolliver and his men be hunkered down somewhere like we were, or would they move out through the snow?

  I didn’t think they believed they were followed. That meant they would likely find a good campsite and stay there until the snow melted.

  The big question was, if I went to find them, would they spot me? I didn’t have white clothes to act as camouflage in the snow, and Sackett would stand out in the snow like a housefly on a white china plate.