by A. American
Mixing his potato with the melted butter on his plate, he said, “Man, what are we going to do when there’s no more butter?” Taking up a scoop of the mash, he said, “How are we going to eat potatoes with no butter?”
Bob laughed. “Don’t worry, Gene. Potatoes won’t last long either.”
“Once the food we have runs out, we’ll be down to eating whatever we can find,” Teague said as he chewed on a bite of steak.
“Hopefully, we’ll be in Texas by then,” Daniel replied.
Bob nodded. “Hopefully.”
When dinner was done, Teague volunteered to clean up the plates and forks. Daniel left the grill in the fire to burn off whatever might be on it. Then, the sleeping arrangements were discussed. It was decided Bob should sleep in the van because of his injury. Daniel said he and Christy would set up his tent and sleep in that. Teague, being Teague, decided to sleep on the roof of the van. Gene would recline in the passenger seat and sleep in that.
Daniel set the small Northface tent up quickly, having done so countless times before. Christy inflated the sleeping pads and unrolled the bags on top. With the light fading and little else to do, she bid everyone a goodnight and went into the tent. Daniel and Gene helped Bob into the van and onto the small bed that folded down.
Teague and Daniel sat by the low glow of the coals of the fire for a while. Daniel was still a little shaken up and tense from the ride. Teague was relaxed and acted as though it was nothing unusual. Maybe it wasn’t for him, but this lifestyle was going to take some time for Daniel to get used to. Daniel stretched out a foot and pushed the end of a limb into the fire.
“You ok?” Teague asked.
He shrugged. “I guess so. This just seems so, I don’t know, weird I guess. Hard to imagine something like today happening and there are no police or anything, or that people would actually do something like that in the first place.”
“The only thing that held the animals in check was the thought there was a limit, that they could get caught and caged for a while. Now they know that’s gone, people are going to do the things they’ve always wanted to. Others, just more of what they’ve always done.”
Daniel shook his head. “You sure have a shitty outlook.”
Teague leaned forward, resting on his elbows, and spat into the fire. “It’s realistic. Even you. Why did you drive the speed limit? It’s an arbitrarily imposed limit on your actions. Why do it? Because you didn’t want a speeding ticket. This is the same thing, just on a more violent scale. Someone wants something, they’ll just take it. See a pretty girl, no sense trying to get a date. Just knock that bitch down and take it. That’s how they’ll think.”
“I guess I hoped for more from people.”
Teague cocked his head to the side and looked down his nose at Daniel. “You, my friend, lived in a fantasy world. That whole, let’s all just get along, only worked for those that obey the law in the first place. If you’re inclined not to follow the law, then none of that means shit to you. So now you have to decide how you’re going to deal with people.”
Daniel leaned forward and picked up a small twig with several dry leaves on it, tossing it into the fire. After a brief moment, it flared it into a bright flame. “I guess we established that today.”
Teague snorted and sat back. “I don’t think you have yet. I’ve known you for your whole life. You’re a decent guy. You don’t have that mean streak in you.” Looking Daniel in the eye, he said, “But you’d better develop it.” He pointed to the tent where Christy was sleeping. “You’ve got to protect her. I mean, she did a good job today, but you know what men would do to her. She’s beautiful.”
Daniel looked at the tent and nodded. “You know, I took her for granted for a long time, but this,” he waved his hands in the air, “whatever this is, woke me up. I know now what she means to me, and I’ll do everything in my power to protect her.”
Teague nodded, a thin smile cutting his lips. “She’s a prissy little thing, but I will to.”
Christy’s muffled voice came from the tent, “I heard that, Teague.”
Daniel shook his head and Teague laughed, saying, “You were supposed to! No go to sleep, Miss Priss!”
“Screw you, Teague,” came the muffled replied.
“Love you, too,” Teague replied.
Daniel’s head was hanging and he was shaking it. “How much you think she heard?” He asked.
“All of it,” Christy replied as her sleeping bag rustled inside the tent. “Come to bed.”
Teague laughed. “Sounds like the boss has spoken. You better get going.”
Daniel looked at the tent. “Yeah, she has.”
Chapter 10
The next morning, everyone was up early. Christy insisted they eat breakfast before leaving, and she prepared a pot of oatmeal from the large cardboard container they had brought with them. As they ate, Bob commented on the flavor, asking what she did to it.
“I added a little salt. No one thinks of it, but it really sets it off. Plus, I made it with milk and not water. Add a pinch of sugar and you’re good to go.”
“Salt. Really? Never thought of it. I only ate this stuff because my doctor told me to. Said it would help my cholesterol, but this,” he held up a spoonful, “this is really good.”
Christy smiled. “Thanks, Bob. It’ll stick with you for a while.”
Once breakfast was done, they quickly rinsed the bowls and loaded up in the van. Gene had cleaned the passenger seat before going to bed the night before. He started a pot of coffee on Daniel’s gas stove and took the time to make the seat presentable. With everything ready, they loaded into the van and drove around the station and headed back the way they came into town.
Southerland was at the roadblock when they pulled up. Daniel stopped beside him. “Thanks for letting us stay here last night. We appreciate it.”
Southerland nodded. “No problem. Good luck to you folks.”
Bob leaned forward and asked, “Where’s that paramedic?”
Southerland looked back towards town. “He’s probably getting some sleep. We had someone get burned last night, so he was up pretty late.”
“Pass along to him my appreciation for his help yesterday. You guys went out of your way for us.”
Southerland waved him off. “It’s what we do. We’re here to help.”
“Best of luck to you, Chief,” Daniel said as he started to pull away.
As they left Whitesburg in the rearview mirror, Christy scooted up between the front seats. “How far down here are we going? I don’t want to get near those guys again.”
Daniel pointed up the road. “This isn’t the road we came in on. This one heads kind of west. We came in from the south.”
Her relief obvious, Christy sat back in her seat. They were on the GA 5. A rural route that ran through lightly populated areas. The idea was to stay away from interstates and cities. Daniel pushed the van up to about sixty-five as farm fields and pastures rushed by. The air coming through the many broken windows was cool and refreshing.
Roopville was the first settlement of any size they came to. But they cruised over South Park without incident. Bob was navigating and told Daniel to make a left when Hwy 5 dead ended into GA 100, which was also Hwy 5 until it crossed the Alabama line and changed to Hwy 48. They passed through many small hamlets in Alabama like Graham, Hawk and Morrison Crossroad. The road was empty for the most part, though they occasionally passed another car or truck. There seemed to be many more tractors moving around than cars.
Passing fields and farms, they saw many tractors out working. From the newest GPS-guided industrial machines to turn-of-the-century Farmalls. For their part, farmers were still going to work every day.
After a few hours of driving, Bob asked Daniel to pull over. They were between Lineville and
Ashland. Christy seconded Bob’s request. It was time for a pee break. Daniel picked one of the few places where the trees came right up to the road, as most of the area was farm fields. As soon as he stopped, Teague was out the rear door with his carbine at the ready. Gene and Christy helped Bob out, since he was stiff from sitting. As soon as he was on his feet, he waved his helpers off. “I can walk.”
Christy retrieved a roll of toilet paper from the van and grabbed Daniel’s arm. “I’m going behind the van. Keep everyone over here, please.”
Bob laughed at her modesty. “You ain’t got nothing I haven’t seen before.”
TP in hand as she rounded the van, Christy replied, “Maybe not. But you haven’t seen this one, and you’re not going to!”
Bob laughed as he shook a cigarette from his pack and lit it. He leaned against the van and asked Daniel to get the atlas. Daniel grabbed it and opened it up on the hood. “Where are we?”
With the cigarette pinched between his fingers, Bob pointed at the map. “We’re about right here on Hwy 9.” He ran his finger along the road. “The problem is up here. We’re not too far from Talladega and Birmingham to the north. I don’t want to go anywhere near those two. We can go south down here to Sylacauga, but we’ll need to cross the Coosa River at some point. We need a bridge on a secondary road.”
Daniel studied the map. “If we go south towards Rockford, we can pick up twenty-two there and cross the river. Doesn’t look like a major road. Better than going north and running the risk of having trouble and being forced farther north towards Talladega.”
Bob finished his cigarette and flipped it into the road. “I like that. It keeps us to the south and away from any craziness around these bigger cities.”
Hearing a noise on the roof of the van, Daniel looked up to see Gene. “What are you doing?” He asked.
Gene was struggling with one of the drums of fuel they’d tied up there. “Since we’re stopped, let’s top off the fuel. Better to have it in the tank than up here. Plus, we never know when we’ll really need to be able to outrun someone.”
“Good idea. Let me help,” Daniel said.
Christy was finished with her task and came around the van with a camp chair, telling Bob to sit down. He protested until her hands landed on her hips and she cocked her head to the side. He knew he was beat, and sat as instructed. As much as he hated it, Christy insisted he wear shorts to make it easier to clean his wounds. The pants he’d been wearing were lost to the shears of Jason.
Bob plopped into the chair and Christy went to work cleaning the wound. She removed the dressing and inspected the gouges the bullet had torn into his leg. She took a bottle of contact lens saline from a bag and a small bottle of betadine solution. Using a Styrofoam cup, she poured a couple of fingers of saline and added the betadine, mixing the two.
Bob watched what she was doing and asked, “Is that safe to use on an open wound? Isn’t that for your eyes?”
Christy didn’t stop her work and replied. “It’s just sterile saline. Same thing they give you in an IV. This is great for irrigating wounds. Now that the bottle isn’t full, I’ll add the betadine directly to it and be able to squirt it right into the wounds.”
Christy took a couple of four by four gauze pads and soaked them in the solution. She used these to clean Bob’s legs, removing dead tissue and dried blood. Bob tolerated the discomfort without complaint. Once the wound was clean, she placed a couple non-adherent pads on the canal the bullet cut and wrapped them with gauze. When she finished, she looked up at Bob and smiled. “All clean now.”
Bob smiled back at her as she knelt in front of him, packing up her supplies. Bob took her arm. “Thank you, Christy.” It was a simple statement, but she could tell from his eyes he really meant it, and probably didn’t know how exactly to express himself. She patted him on the leg. “No problem, Bob. Someone’s got to take care of you.”
Through two failed marriages, Bob never managed to have any kids. Mainly because of what he’d always thought of as prudent planning on his part. But looking at Christy, if he had a daughter, she was what he imagined. Maybe he should have had some kids. But then he thought about those two evil bitches. No, he was far better off. And, considering the current situation, he wouldn’t want to be worrying about kids who could be God knows where.
Gene finished transferring the fuel and asked Daniel to help get the drum back on the roof of the van. No reason to leave it behind, they might need it again down the road. Once the drum was secure and the chairs were loaded back up, everyone returned to their places in the van and Daniel pulled back out onto the road.
They drove into Ashland without issue. It was as if nothing out of the ordinary was going on. Bob laughed as they passed the post office and a man was mowing the lawn of the house across the street. At the Mapco convenience store caddy corner from the courthouse, the parking lot was crowded with cars and trucks. It appeared some method had been devised to pump fuel from the underground tanks. The residents of Ashland were lined up and patiently waiting their turn for fuel.
The van drew several looks from those waiting in line, but nothing more than a long stare. Here at least, things seemed normal. The parking places in front of the courthouse had a number of police and sheriff cars occupying them, the officers and deputies milling about with little show of ambition. They too turned to watch the van as it rolled by. Daniel worried they would see the bullet holes, or maybe the screens over the windows would draw their curiosity. Bob waved at them and a couple of the officers waved back.
Highway 9 had become 1st Ave in Ashland, and it became Hwy 77 that continued west, while Hwy 9 broke off and turned south just past the courthouse square. Daniel made a left onto 9 South. They hadn’t even made it to the NAPA half a block down when a country sheriff suddenly rounded the corner behind them with his lights and siren going.
“Oh shit,” Daniel said, looking in the rearview mirror.
Teague quickly shifted his position at the rear of the van. “Should I take him out?” He shouted.
Bob spun around in his chair and screamed, “Hell no! Just pull to the side, Daniel.”
Daniel did as Bob said, hoping the patrol car would pass them. But it pulled in behind them and stopped. Bob lowered his weapon to the floor between his feet as the deputy got out of this car in a rather casual manner. Daniel watched as the deputy adjusted his gun belt while he walked up. The deputy gave the van a thorough look as he approached. Coming up to Daniel’s window, he looked in at the occupants.
In a thick southern Alabama drawl, he asked, “Where you guys headed?”
“To a friend’s place southwest of here,” Bob replied.
The deputy had a thick pinch of snuff bulging his cheek. He adjusted it with his tongue. Christy had a full body shiver at the disgusting habit. The deputy nodded down the road in the direction they were traveling. “You folks are headed into a pretty rough area. There’s some boys out there, waylaying travelers. They’re looking for cars, fuel, food, guns an,” he paused, looking at Christy, “women.” Tipping his hat, he added, “Sorry, ma’am.”
Bob looked down the road. “That’s unfortunate. We need to get through here. We don’t want to go north. The big cities are probably a pretty rough place.”
With a quick snap of his head, the deputy spat a brown slug into the dirt. “Well, we’ve had several folks come in here after running into them. Some of them didn’t live long. If you continue out there, we’re not going to come help you.”
Bob nodded. “We understand, and wouldn’t ask you to.”
The deputy rapped a knuckle on the expanded metal covering Daniel’s window. “Some pretty serious hardware you folks have on here. Where’d you come from?”
“Atlanta. We were downtown when it all happened. Had to take precautions.”
Looking the van over, he replied, “Can
’t say I blame you. Just be careful. From what we hear, they’re dropping trees over the road making people stop, and then they ambush them.” He stepped back and tipped his hat. “Good luck to you folks.”
Bob waved at him. “Thanks for the info.” Then he nodded at Daniel to proceed.
As they pulled off, Christy climbed up between the front seats. “Is this a good idea? Maybe we should find another way.”
Bob shook out a smoke and lit it, causing Christy to wave the smoke away. “It’s the only way, Christy. We certainly don’t want to go north. Just keep your gun handy.”
The reply didn’t give her any comfort, but she sat back in her chair, checking her Glock to make sure it was there. She had a bad feeling about this, but there wasn’t anything she could do.
It was about halfway between Harkins Crossroad and Millerville, where the trees grew within feet of the road, that a large tree came crashing down onto their path. Daniel instinctively hit the brakes, putting the van into a slide. Bob shouted to get off the brake and speed up, actually reaching over and pushing the wheel to steer the van towards the canopy of the tree that reached all the way to the other side of the road.
Daniel did as instructed, mashing the accelerator to the floor. The van belched black smoke as diesel poured into the cylinders. They were nearly to the tree when men appeared from either side of the road carrying rifles. But the van was now going in excess of sixty and they didn’t get too close. The big Ford crashed into the canopy of the tree and, for a moment, Daniel couldn’t see anything but leaves and limbs as they scraped over the metal screen.
“Keep going! Keep going!” Bob shouted as limbs scraped and scratched down the side of the van.
Forward momentum suddenly stopped as the van strained against a large limb. Daniel paused long enough to shift the van into four-wheel drive and got back on the gas. The van began to creep forward when a shot rang out. Bob looked over his shoulder to see Teague shooting from the rear windows. Whoever had sprung the trap obviously thought the van was hung up and this was the time to hit it. But they didn’t count on the people inside being ready for it.